Look at me, slacking on the second day! Yes, I didn't post at all yesterday, after promising a post a day. I guess my true nature will be revealed to you right off the bat -- where there is writing involved, I will procrastinate. Yes indeedy, I certainly will. But here I am now, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on a Saturday morning and ready to blog!
The thing I was doing other than posting yesterday was cleaning the bedroom. In doing so I rounded up some dresses from the back of my closet to take to the thrift store. They were all from the '90s, stuff I hadn't worn in forever but that I either liked too much or spent too much on to give away yet.
I noticed a definite pattern with these dresses. I guess I had a signature style and didn't know it. There was a lot of black velvet, and a lot of vintagey florals, dark roses and baby's breath on black backgrounds. Usually some kind of crinkly-wrinkly fabric. All of the skirts were long, too long, really; I'm 5'2 so that's a given. I had a thing for patchworky skirts -- a square of the vintagey floral stuff, a square of black velvet, a square of some random art deco-ish print or something vaguely Asian....oh, and some black lace somewhere. Maybe peeking out from a hem or in the V of the neckline. And a bunch of those little elastic clip things you use to nip the waist in. I wore these dresses with black leggings and black boots, always black boots -- cowboy boots, motorcycle boots, granny boots, but definitely black boots. Apparently I either thought I was Maria McKee or Molly Ringwald. At least I didn't wear them with a big straw hat with a cabbage rose on it.
One of the dresses was gothy-goth black but still the patchwork, and with mismatched vintage buttons. I bought it for a Type O Negative concert in 1996 where I was supposed to interview the band afterwards but for reasons I can't recall, the interview did not happen. There was one pants outfit in the whole bag, a dark green Indonesian (guess what) patchwork outfit with coins sewn onto the hem and used as toggle fasteners. My dad bought me that at a little boutique sometime around 1992 on the condition that I never wear it in public with him. He also suggested that we leave the boutique and go to CVS to buy a Spiderman costume, which he felt would make the same fashion statement for a lot less money. Shopping with my dad is always an adventure.
Guess what? They're all going. They're in a Trader Joe's bag by the door. Look for them soon at a thrift store near you.
(Day two and it's already come to posts about cleaning out my closet. This is going to be one fascinating blog.)