Aight, I think I’ve officially run out of ideas.
This is an epiphany made abundantly clear by the fact that I’ve resorted to wearing my shirts backwards in order to breathe new life into my wardrobe. I’m aware I may look subjectively stupid. It’s ok. Fashion is art and art is subjective so therefore this is… artistic liberty?
Yeah, that’s a stretch. But that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Though the vast majority of shirts are, shockingly, meant to be worn in their front-facing natural state, I actually think that button-downs tend to look quite cool if worn unorthodoxically. This button-down in particular, since it’s kind of shorter and has funky sleeves. They detract attention from the fact that I look like I’m wearing a straitjacket because people look at the sleeves and go huh, what a fashion-forward top, it’s probably from Zara!
But it’s not. It’s from my mother’s closet circa 2004 and when she saw what I had done to her beloved button-down she looked at me with the same disappointment she had when I told her I was quitting piano in high school because Chopin was, like, so not cool mom.
I’ve styled my shirt with inoffensive black trousers and heels and added a black clutch because, in the immortal words of The Devil Wears Prada, an accessory is merely a piece of iconography used to express individual identity. Or something like that. I’ve recently been feeling like a blogging fraud since I rarely ever accessorize and own approximately 2,5 bags, so I’m making an effort. If you want some insight into how bad I am at accessorizing, you should know that the last time this clutch came out of my closet was when I was moving to Lyon two years ago and needed something to store my sunglasses in for the trip over.