The Ultimate Case of Shameless Copycatting

If you’re an only child then you’ll understand that sharing is not in our nature. “Get your own blocks” is a motto that has stayed with us since pre-school when, unlike the rest of the kids, we had a hard time dealing with someone else handling our toys. It has translated into adulthood as a quiet frustration — due to common decency we’ve learned to adopt coping mechanisms that allow us to not throw a public fit when someone uses the pen we’ve just put down — but we’re never fully comfortable.

We’re basically always lying when we say it’s fine to use our chargers. We cringe when friends borrow our Chapstick but they probably don’t notice since they’re in that “Oh thank God” stage of lip-hydration reverie. Loaning clothes gives us tiny eye twitches. The strongest force of my only child syndrome, however, is that I cannot stand when someone copies me; and copying is more or less borrowing an idea, no?

Which I guess makes everything I just said kind of funny considering the fact that I am about to straight up plagiarize this woman above in the dark camel blazer.

[image error]
Turn on your JavaScript to view content

She looks as though she’s been plucked off Manhattan’s Upper West Side somewhere between the wide sartorial gap of 1975-1990-something. There’s the denim skirt of an awkwardly modest length that is both very Stella McCartney and my 3rd grade teacher, Ms. Shannon (who was probably younger than I am now; a total non sequitur but super weird to think about).

[image error]
Turn on your JavaScript to view content

There’s the black turtleneck that lives in each and every one of our closets, and then that oversized blazer that looks like it was kind of a boring purchase (she probably didn’t run home to show everyone its brown coloring and standard lapels, that’s for sure), yet thank god she owned it because otherwise this outfit wouldn’t have come together.

[image error]
Turn on your JavaScript to view content

And though plenty options could have worked, it’s the open toed shoes that make the whole thing breathe.

[image error]
Turn on your JavaScript to view content

What I like about her outfit is that the pieces are unremarkable — so much so, in fact, that if she were your friend getting dressed you’d be thinking, “Really? That skirt?…Seriously? With a turtleneck?”

And if she were a less confident woman, perhaps she’d agree. Maybe she’d question her own choices and swap out the skirt for something shorter, or the coat for something with more shape, or the top for something less bookish. But she didn’t. She knew this would work. How? I have no clue. Maybe she copied someone else, and therefore hopefully she won’t mind me copying her.

[image error]
Turn on your JavaScript to view content

I think it’s fine though. We probably don’t even live in the same city.