It Happened One Wifebeater

I wasn't expecting an excess of white tank tops to inspire an emotional reaction. They did, though. As I cleaned out my closet and armoire last weekend, I saw myself as if from a distance, and it was embarrassing.

Anyone experienced in periodic closet rejuvenation can testify that the mess gets worse before it gets better. At the apex of my task, there were mounds of clothing covering the bed as well as the floor. Gobs of hangers everywhere. And ultimately, a feeling of apathy and futility hanging in the air.

There is something inherently sad about sorting though old clothing. It is looking at who you were not too long ago, but long enough to give you a bit of objectivity. Kind of nostalgic, and also bitter, because these are ultimately parts of yourself that you don't wish to revisit, and are throwing away.

I counted 20 identical white tank tops and about 40 pairs of black tights, some still in their packaging. The tank tops and tights spoke clearly to me of a person who was and is afraid of falling into disrepair and shabbiness. I began to think about my buying habits, which are often about obtaining multiple versions of the same garment. While I can justify this ad nauseaum, I know that there is a thin line between having a closet full of uniforms and closet full of the fear of never having enough.

White Collar Crimes

Tomorrow begins the second of Gap's design editions, a collection of white shirts, dresses, and tanks designed by Phillip Lim, Michael Bastian, Band of Outsiders, and Threeasfour. There will also be some jewelry, designed by Phillip Crangi.

Strangely enough, there is no information to be found on Gap's website. Unfortunately, as with many designer collaborations with low-priced retailers, the results tend to be disappointing. Gap's last design edition project, with Thakoon, Doo.Ri, and Rodarte, produced a collection of ill-fitting, unexciting white dresses that looked a little unfortunate lumped together on a relatively innocuous rack. Perhaps a simple white shirt is a better starting point for this particular type of collaboration.  

Gap's practice of using top models in their ads is an obvious attempt to lure shoppers into their stores, but their consistently drooping sales begs the question- there must be something wrong with the clothes. Still, the lure of a designer name can be enough to increase traffic and sales temporarily. But I wonder if these designers, popular among fashion insiders, but still relatively unknown to the buying public, will be the shot of fashion credibility Gap is desperately seeking in the age of H&M and Forever 21.

"And that's another thing. I don't know what allowance my uncle makes you, but I don't mind betting you're spending double. All this," he said, including in a wide sweep of his hand the evidences of profligacy about him. It was true; my room had cast its austere winter garments, and by not very slow stages, assumed a richer wardrobe. "Is that paid for?" (The box of a hundred cabinet Partagas on the side board). "Or those?" (A dozen frivolous, new books on the table.) "Or those?" (A Lalique decanter and glasses.) "Or that particularly noisome object?" (A human skull lately purchased from the School of Medicine, which, resting in a bowl of roses, formed, at the moment, the chief decoration of my table. It bore the motto, Et in Arcadia ego inscribed on its forehead.)

"Yes," I said, glad to be clear of one charge. "I had to pay cash for the skull."

From Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh

I see, I desire

Obsession and desire- integral parts of love, as well as shopping. Every week I find myself feverishly searching google or eBay for some random thing that all of a sudden, I must have. Kind of a Daisy Buchanan/ Telltale Heart thing.

For the past two weeks I have been looking for the perfect pair of brogues (or oxfords, whatev). I think they are a refreshing and more polished option to accompany a skinny jean, or a short skirt instead of the ubiquitous ballet flats or keds. Needless to say, they can not be of the 80s Capezio or Repetto jazz shoe vein. Anyway, I stumbled across a great pair when I stopped into a store in the west village a few weeks ago. The owner of the store was kind of nuts, and more than a little rude, so I made a mental note of the name inside the shoes while making my escape.

A google search later, I found out they are on amazon:
I like almost everything about them; the textured upper with patent wingtip, the shoelace-lessness, and the brown leather sole. Summer!