I put an end to one on-going excuse for neurotic hand-wringing today, I sent back the 2 Everlane silk blouses (gray, navy) in size Small. Everlane does not pay the postage on returns, even though I was technically exchanging the Smalls for the Mediums (which so far I'm keeping, more on that in a minute.) So I packed the Smalls up and printed out a Priority Mail Flat Rate label, insured the blouses for another $3, and handed the completed package to our long-suffering postman. That's that. You can see a discussion of the blouses in this post.
Anyway, definitely keeping the navy blouse, but the gray has unidentifiable undertones that don't tone in with any of the other gray things that I already have - gray tweed pencil skirt, gray slacks, other gray slacks, darker gray slacks, other gray pencil skirt, longer gray a-line skirt -- you can see why I don't want to buy this blouse another gray bottom. Nor does it work all that well with the one thing I thought was made for it -- the black/cream (read gray) herringbone hacking jacket, which was a new purchase this season also. The fabric of the blouse is too thin and floppy to look good with the heavy and very very slightly hairy fabric of the jacket. A pity, because the jacket fits perfectly. But the jacket doesn't go with any of my grays either! Annoying, because many of them are from the same merchant - guessing they were manufactured in various different provinces of Our Great Creditor To The East. I don't like the jacket with the peculiar green double-serge pencil skirt, the jacket's fabric is too itchy to wear without some kind of collar or turtleneck at the neck which leaves out all my cashmere tees and shells... I really have enough jackets that I can wear with chambray shirt & chinos, or jeans and white shirt. And that seems to be the extent of the socialization of which this jacket is capable. I'll be returning it. With a sigh.
Which brings me to another moan.
|"This will work until someone|
invents a really great white
White shirts, of course, have to be replaced from time to time, and so in one of the last great pre-Christmas sales, I ordered two of the same white shirt from J.Crew. They are going back. The fabric has no body. The collar flops. The front band is a wrinkle magnet.
Imagine my surprise - no, can't say I was surprised. In a recent Message from Beyond the Black Hole that Terrifies Venusians, our favorite Intergalactic Stylist showed a Look We (well, she) Love. I like the look, too, I just don't see how you get it with the merchandise she claims she used.
OK, around here "crisp" means, when applies to items of clothing, "holds a press" or "holds its shape." The white shirt that the Look (above) links us to is this one:
This is the shirt I sent back because the last word anyone with fingers would use to describe it is "crisp." And although I would never admit this to anyone of the male persuasion, I am a pretty good ironer. Of women's clothing, all those seams and reinforcements and detailing of men's clothing defeats me. And I am also familiar with starch, now known as spray-on finish. It's about $6 a can around here, and you'd need half a can per wear. Nuh-uh.
There's this ongoing thing with my sister and a velvet jacket that I sent her in early November, the idea being that she'd have it in time to enjoy for Christmas parties. She doesn't live far from me at all, I sent it so I wouldn't have to discuss the pricetag with her. I was a little extravagant because she's celebrating another milestone at WeightWatchers, which is a very celebratory group of people, bless their skinny little hearts. Perhaps we celebrated a little early, because the size she admitted to was too small. It went back, and a larger size that fit "just OK" arrived. She thought it was a different jacket. Why? Because the other one had a tighter waist. This one just looks different, she told me. I could have said maybe that's because it fits, but I am a Good Sister. "Look," quoth I, "why don't you take the store credit and we'll hit the sales together after Christmas?" So that's where we are now. You probably have relatives of your own, most of you, so I'll spare you the updates.
Meanwhile, January and February cruise wear approaches,
Update: My friend Yippee insists that the shirt in this picture is the Platonic ideal of a white shirt.