Peanut Butter Syndrome Strikes (er, Skirts) Again
The last time I mentioned peanut butter syndrome, I eschewed its power to boast about the gumption, conviction and rigor with which I wear double-breasted blazers. This skirt over pants trip I’m on, though, which I can’t seem to shake off (blame fashion? Blame fashion week? Blame jeans-as-jeans becoming increasingly boring?), I don’t know. Am I going to look back at photos of myself a month, a year, two years, decades from now and think: what the hell was I thinking?
Frankly, I hope so.
That would have meant that I tried something out of my comfort zone, that I experimented with the accoutrements that cloak my body and most importantly, that I found a freshly alternative use for my pants through at least the former half of 2014. At least! But getting it right can be tricky (if not completely impossible — the jury is still out on this point) so here you’ll find two different skirts (dresses, actually) that evince different personalities worn over pants and delivered to you, by me.
In the first look, I’m wearing a striped Vince sweater over an incredibly 90s-inspired dress that is actually floor length with spaghetti straps on top. I pulled the dress’s waistline up and pulled the sweater down to create this dropped-waist effect and then put on pink Aperlai mule/pump hybrids, coupled them with an Olympia Le Tan book clutch and posed for you. The skirt is slightly fuller and certainly quite formal so a striped sweater and ripped jeans seemed equal parts an opportune and dichotomous compliment.
In the second look, for which I used an old, decidedly more casual neon Proenza Schouler dress (this is slowly but surely becoming another round of Make an Old Dress New Again, eh?), I paired said neon with a blouse-cum-pinstriped blazer by 3.1 Phillip Lim and black pants by Mina and Olya.
Then I slipped me’baby-sized feet into white mules by Tibi and have been trying to convince myself that I look like someone who might wear head-to-toe The Row through the lens of someone on Acid.
I, of course, can’t determine that, so…
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