first you shop, then you return, then you re-shop, then you re-return

I'm in Christmas shopping recovery this week, and I'm hoping that the to-do list du jour will soon cease to feature the words "return," "take back," "send back," and the like.
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
shirt!"

If you've been with us for a while, you might recall that I regularly become  annoyed when still another hopeful publisher blesses the style-seekers with still another instruction manual on how to look like A Parisienne. A Parisienne, I might say, who lives within a very small defined area of Paris and works, if at all, in one of only a few very small defined areas of endeavor. A Parisienne, I might say, who isn't easy to fool. But you buy this latest book anyway, and what does it tell you to do? Buy a white shirt! Buy a white tee! Buy a black tee! These can be worn with jeans! It's enough to make me want to crawl back into my cave and hibernate until a new generation of Intergalactic Explorers tempts me out with goose liver. Doesn't everyone have these items? Yes, you want to try several manufacturers, several fabrics, etc., etc., but please. Enough.

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,
and so, too, does the Copywriter From Space. That bathing suit doesn't look risk-free to me. Unless you like to wear adhesive tape to the beach.

Update:  My friend Yippee insists that the shirt in this picture is the Platonic ideal of a white shirt.

It's a great picture. I still don't get what you wear with it besides narrow pants. Oh, well.

long, long ago, in a universe far away: an inspiration to the ill-clad masses

The question "Who thinks this stuff UP?" is often heard around here, and unsurprisingly often preceded by an expletive. Now, honestly, most people have no idea how to dress. Go to any Panera (in the interests of research I did, twice, and the lobster salad sandwich - seasonal only - is not bad). While you are standing on line, look around. You will find yourself saying the Panera Grace, or the MickeyD Grace, or the Boston Chicken Grace: you will wonder how so many people could have left the house like that, and then you will find yourself giving thanks to a gentle and merciful heaven that at least they are not bare screamin nekkid. Although if you do your research at or near lunch time, you will no doubt wonder just what these folk are taking a lunch break from.

I feel entitled to speak, well, write, thus, because in a past life I was asked to participate in a panel hosted by a women's group at an old school of mine. The topic was "Dressing for Interviews, Dressing for the Call-Back." Catchy title. I made the mistake of telling my boss about the invitation, and how I shrank from that kind of stuff, and he said, "But we interview there. You should go. You look OK."

Actually that was a good opener, because as I explained to the 2d and 3d-years, you don't want to be remembered for your clothes. This was helpful advice, because many of these kids didn't own anything you'd wear to a job that included daytime hours, and in the context of these interviews, being remembered as the girl with the thighs would not get you far. We discussed the not-tight black pants with plain-ish top, me helpfully pointing out that if you are unhappy about wearing work clothes to work, you have wasted 2 years of your life and should have gone to fashion school. My personal mission succeeded: I was not asked back.

Some odd trends are "trending" these days. First, naturally, is that sneaky word morph where nouns become verbs.

Next up is the thing where "day clothes" and "office wear" are confused with what teenagers wore to pajama parties in old Sandra Dee movies. Here, despite the best efforts I made in that past life, I regret to say that I may have to own up to a share of the blame.

close-up of some of the flowers

Look! these are my pajama bottoms, snatched from the markdown rack at Anthropologie a couple of years ago and freshened up by being run through the washing machine at Flintstone Towers. The background is a much more emphatic green than I was able to photograph, and some of the flowers are really cute. I haven't worn them out of the house, but I did wear them on the terrace, with t-shirt in solid color, to drink coffee and read the papers. The print reminded me of old-lady-housedresses.

Hold that thought, as we fast-forward to:

the J.Crew show, Spring 2013

I imagine, from the jacket, that someone thought these pants should be worn out of doors. I on the other hand think they'd be perfect for lunch at Panera, extra bread and dressing please. And I'm planning to use the money I don't spend on clothes to get a medium-range telescope so I can track down whoever likes to watch grumpy old ladies read newspapers. And to replace my pajama pants, now that they're going to be all over the place.

Recently I wore this tee, not to an office but out of doors. I was asked if it was available through any of the Star Trek sites, and if I was a trekkie. With respect, no and no.

But the intergalactic influence over at J.Crew is definitely getting more pronounced. Trending, as they say.

Update: I am so impressed by the comments that have been posted that I'm updating the main post rather than say, yeah, you right, yeah, momma, you right, all those times. You are all thoughtful, and you are all right. It is a kindness to others to avoid looking ugly, it is a sign of respect to one's upbringing to avoid the look of staggering home after having been dressed by slutty elves and woodland creatures.✳ No matter what went on between you and your mom, in your junior high, in your house when your awful aunt was visiting, that's between you and your therapist. When you come to work for me, tuck your shirt in, don't get your clothes caught on the binder clips, stand up straight and pick your feet up when you walk.

Now to the wonderful comments! xoxo and cate rightly point out that one of the reasons people "dress funny" is to attract attention. Of course noone likes being ignored: but what kind of attention are these people seeking? Who wants to meet a potential employer who likes the sight of you in bedwear? Didn't think so. Who wants to meet a guy who thinks it's cute that you voluntarily dress like a confused hooker? Probably nobody. And yet... there's a continuum that runs from the legible t-shirt to the Enterprise uniform to the sequin business suit (with shorts and tank) that should not be considered clothes.

Getting dressed in the dark: well, I've always been very careful about what I do or don't do with or without my clothes in the dark. I was raised with that superstition about inside-out clothes, you know:  it is lucky to put on an item of clothing inside out by accident, although you must not change it until the time you would normally take it off, for the luck to hold.  To avoid teachers making ethnic cracks about belligerent attitudes, and detention for playground fights, I risked the loss of that potential good luck by carefully shaking out clothes before airing them for the night. The superstition doesn't seem to care about wearing Mardi Gras colors - purple, gold, green - on Veterans' Day, or Easter egg colors as we trudge towards December. So if we accidently put on too many pops of color, we should feel free to start over.

The pajama party: FFM has noticed it at the mall, I've noticed it on Madison Avenue, we've all noticed it in the media. Friends who live in LA tell me PJ's are replacing yoga pants at evening gatherings. Well, in LA, it's all about the body, not the clothes. Our friends go to great pains to take us to interesting restaurants when we visit, as a consequence I can tell you that we saw Brooke Shields at dinner in very casual attire and there's still nothing between her and her Calvins. True. 

The pajama party, part deux: My sister supervised a department that included 2 dozen or more clericals. They spent their money on make-up, not clothes. I picked her up at the office once and met a number of ladies who were wearing those nylon dresses that close with snaps, or tracksuits. Backless footwear. When her office introduced Casual Fridays, they switched to shorts and the kind of sweatshirts that come for free with every 10th fill-up. Then the department was moved to another part of the building and the clericals were told they had to pack the contents of  their own desks for the move. With unprecedented initiative, a delegation approached my sister and complained that (1) this was not in the job description (surprise!), (2) they would ruin their good clothes putting their desk stuff into boxes, and (3) they should get half a day off in compensation. Sister suggested referring all of the issues upstairs, and pointed out that they didn't really want the movers going through their desk drawers, now, did they? I was astounded by her patience, and then her motivation became clear : she wanted to see what they'd wear when they weren't wearing their "good" clothes. You got it - pajamas and slippers.

WMM has inadvertently revealed a secret pleasure: PeopleofWalmart.com. Every time you don't feel like taking up a hem, every time you feel like another brownie or maple bar, go there! fast!

And everyone else is just as puzzled as I am. Cheap American pj's are popular street wear FOR MEN in certain parts of the world because they are CHEAP and comfortable. Please don't let it happen here.
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✳I figured out why I'm entranced with this expression. It reminds me of the "Robin Hood meets Edie Beale" catalog from a few years ago. I hope I get tired of it before you do.