Au Revoir, Mon Amie

It was an outrageous find—a black pleated wool crepe Chanel skirt.  Gold plated buttons with the trademark interlocking “Cs.” Originally sold at Nan Duskin, the legendary women’s clothing store on Rittenhouse Square that specialized in the exceptional, exclusive, and expensive.  I was dazed and amazed to find it while browsing through my neighborhood Village Thrift Store a few years ago.  I immediately yanked it off the rack and tucked it under my arm.

Can you imagine?  Chanel—the epitome of aspirational brands—at Village Thrift!  French chic, classic lines, sophistication.  Rich fabrics and construction that justify the lofty price tags, here in my scruffy little ‘hood, with a $5 price tag!  Be still my heart!  I tried on the skirt in the store over my jeans; it fit well enough to buy. 

The skirt was flattering and added an extra swish to my walk.  It looked great with silky blouses, cute little sweaters, and fitted jackets.  Worn effortlessly from day into evening with a simple accessory swap.  I got tons of compliments wearing that skirt, and I always enjoyed sharing where I found it and what I paid for it.  I don’t know how many people I converted to thrifting, but that purchase certainly cemented my deep and abiding relationship with consignment, resale, and thrift stores.

It was recently attacked by a group of hungry moths that left it looking like Bonnie and Clyde’s sedan after the shootout. As a result, it will be going to that big cedar closet in the sky. Au revoir, mon amie, and many thanks for the brush with the inimitable Coco. 

Let’s Hear it for the Boys

In the 1980s I curated a collection of men’s white tuxedo shirts from thrift stores that I wore tucked into everything.  Men’s white Hanes tees were a staple of my casual wardrobe.  I was thrilled when I learned to tie a tie.  I wore tweedy men’s jackets and topcoats, including an oversized black tuxedo jacket that reminds me of Ricky Ricardo, and a beloved brown wool tweed 1950s-era coat with leather buttons.  So, imagine my unadulterated delight with one of this fall’s hottest trends, borrowing from the boys.

Menswear. The Dandy Look. Think of Katharine Hepburn, Marlene Dietrich, Annie Hall, Jonelle Monae.  Remember how fabulous Julie Andrews looked at dinner with James Garner in Victor/Victoria wearing a tuxedo with white tie and vest, cuff links, and boutonnière?  How about when she donned a charcoal pinstriped suit with a white dress shirt and orange paisley tie?  Incredible, indelible style images.

This look capitalizes on floppy bowties, slim or flowy trousers, silky shirts, vests, and oxford style shoes or loafers.  Raid your man’s closet if he’s got an item that you covet. Consider tailored pantsuits paired with feminine accessories, or items in traditional tweeds, pinstripes, or plaids. 

Wearing clothes cut for a man requires a shift in perspective and lots of attention to proportion.  It’s a good idea to have a tailor handy if you’re planning to shop in the men’s department.  The boy’s department may be a better option if you’re slim.  Try out several different pieces to find what works best for you.  Start slow--layer a tweed vest over a white button down shirt, or just slip into a pair of Bass loafers.

So, dive in, and keep it girly with a slick of bright red lipstick.  You'll be the talk of the water cooler!

Happy Birthday To You

My Mother and Me

Today would have been my mother's 87th birthday.  I last wrote about her on my birthday in April, but there was more to say...so here's another tribute to this fabulous woman.

I learned about the timeless beauty of blackness and black culture from her.  Because of her I heard the poetry of Paul Lawrence Dunbar, and learned the lyrics to the black national anthem, “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing.”  She and I were frequent and enthusiastic patrons of the historic Howard Theater in Washington DC, and were riveted by the electrifying live performances of James Brown, Little Richard, The Temptations, and many, many others on that stage.

Because of her love of music our house brimmed with the musical power and sass of Ruth Brown, BB King, Billy Preston, Ray Charles, Dinah Washington.  Our Sunday morning soundtrack often featured Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, The Edwin Hawkins Singers, Aretha’s “Amazing Grace.”  Gray days brought Jimmy Reed into the mix.  Our stereo often blew the roof off the sucker; she predated Spinal Tap by “turning it up to 11.”

She loved to laugh and from that I learned that there is joy to be found everywhere.  She was an easy giggle and one of my favorite audiences. She laughed as hard as I did at the antics of Bugs, Daffy, Wile E. Coyote, and Tom & Jerry.  She adored the silliness of The Three Stooges and Benny Hill.

She was an old school romantic who loved vampires (especially Barnabas Collins), Wuthering Heights, and sentimental greeting cards.

She made personal fashion statements.  Made herself a leopard print corduroy pantsuit and wore it proudly at a time when most women were still wearing demure shirtwaist dresses for day.  She entertained in bold print jumpsuits.  Made dashikis for her husband.  Outfitted me in t-shirt dresses and Mexican style-tiered skirts.  Stitched up dotted swiss dresses with Peter Pan collars and back ties, and sweet little pastel dresses to squelch the blue jean-clad hippie chick that was growing in front of her.

She taught me how to walk in heels; how to stand and sit.  She taught me courtesy and decorum.  Most importantly she taught me to be proud, make waves, and always show some spine.

I miss her, and am grateful for her lessons. She taught me never to be ashamed of the little black girl that I was, and I know that she would beam with pride at the woman that I've become.  Happy birthday, Mom!

Cover Your Tracks

“Now arriving on Track 1, Section B is the scheduled 6:27 express to…”  I hear that announcement whenever I’m standing behind a sista with exposed weave tracks. Casual Friday followers know that I’m anti-weave so today’s post should not be a shocker.

Sistas!  If you choose the weave PLEASE check your entire head before leaving the house.  Right after you apply the Pretty Girl cosmetics and run your tongue over your teeth to remove lipstick smudges, grab a hand mirror, hold it to the back of your head, and turn your back to the door of the medicine chest.  Shine a really bright light on to your head and fix the problem areas. I shouldn't see where your hair and weave meet.  And, please make sure that I can’t see your natural naps ‘cause believe me, if the two hair textures are not a good match, there’s just no way that’s gonna look anything but mangy and nasty. 

The mess on your head is distracting.  I can't help but stare at you--for the wrong reasons.  And yes, your "oh, no she didn't" weave will become dinner conversation.

The "It" Bag

Pretty psychedelic, huh?  This grandma-on-acid vintage bag is not the latest Prada, Dooney & Bourke, or Louis Vuitton. This bag has no pedigree, but it has plenty of attitude. The outside feels like an old school chenille bedspread; the inside is lined with a heavy navy blue taffetta that is remarkably still intact.

I nabbed this at The Wardrobe Boutique.  This is my "It" bag for fall.  Love it!!