Not even meaning to, I picked out an outfit that (minus the boots) cost me about $10. And the boots were even obtained on clearance at Marshall’s (yes apparently stores as lowbrow as Marshalls have clearances)…oh the joys of being frugal to balance out the handbag binges.
Flannel shirt, secondhand. Dress, vintage Ferre. Boots, some Italian brand. Tights, F21. Bag, likely faux Chanel.
Geraldine Saglio, assistant to Emmanuelle Alt (I think), and winner of the Hottest-Girl-Ever-to-Never-Change-Her-Shoes award. She seems relatively conscious of the fact that her legs are her best accessory (what is that, a 50″ inseam?), and therefore rocks the opaques like no other, favoring simple, loosely silhouetted tunics whose only risque factor is their micromini length. But, being the French Vogue-ette that she is, she also pulls off the monochromatic jeans ensemble like it’s child’s play, looking chicly ’70s in the subtlest way manageable in her midrise flare/wideleg hybrids. Also appreciated is the giant hardware Balenciaga clutch (one of two styles in which I actually secretly desire the semi-obnoxious studs) and her simple canvas military-inspired jacket. I’m even going to admit that she’s on the verge of inspiring me to break out the Levi’s mini I made out of my brother’s old jeans and wore to death in 2004. Dangerous territory indeed.
Pics courtesy of The Sartorialist and Vogue Japan.
Perfect for a day of coffee shops and boutique browsing…
Dress and jacket, Topshop. Bag, MJ. Shoes, Burberry. Scarf, Urbn.
and if I could transmogrify (Calvin and Hobbes would understand) to the southern hemisphere.
Dress, Chloe. Bag, Topshop. Shoes, Bebe. Cuff, Hermes. Sunnies, Ray-ban.
I always prefer sequins in a less “done-up” way, with some texture mixing and a beaten up bag.
Dress, some random boutique in San Francisco. Blazer, Ralph Lauren. Socks and tights, F21. Boots, Marc by Marc Jacobs. Bag, vintage.
I’ve always loved floral prints with black backgrounds, there’s something darkly romantic (well, and Kate Moss-reminiscent) about the combination. So I was understandably overjoyed to find this little vintage number at an out-of-the-way Norcal Goodwill for a trifling $4 or so. As I gleefully added it to the heap in my basket, my boyfriend blandly commented that it looked like every other random floral dress in there. Though it’s frumpy knee length might have obscured it’s charm, I saw the light and shrugged off his shrewd analysis, taking it home to put my newfound sewing skills to work. A lot of pinning and not too much sewing later and I had my English tea garden dress, complete with a moderate amount of slouch. The triumph was of course topped off by a celebrational cavorting amongst the trees.
Dress, vintage. Coat, secondhand. Socks, AA. Boots, vintage. Ring, F21.