Flare Jeans in Real Life: Boots, Tops and the Right Hem Length
I was on my knees on the kitchen floor last Tuesday with three pins in my mouth and a tape measure looped around my neck like a stethoscope, trying to…
I was on my knees on the kitchen floor last Tuesday with three pins in my mouth and a tape measure looped around my neck like a stethoscope, trying to…
I own nine denim dresses. Nine. I counted them properly last weekend while doing a closet cull that was supposed to result in donations, and instead resulted in me standing…
My brother in law Rob caught me halfway across his living room at Thanksgiving two years ago, glanced down at my feet, and said, “Are those brown with a navy…
My friend Dana walked into my kitchen last spring, took one look at my outfit, and said, “Okay, but why does that gray look so much better than your other…
I bought my first long denim skirt in a hurry, in a dressing room with terrible lighting, because a friend of mine had one and looked effortlessly put together in…
My friend Marisol walked into my kitchen last spring, looked at my jeans for a solid three seconds, and said, “Wait, are those flared? I didn’t know we were doing…
Shorts get treated like the easy part of getting dressed in summer, the thing you throw on when it is ninety degrees and thinking is optional. And for years I…
I was standing at the ironing board at seven in the morning, coffee going cold on the counter, running the tip of the iron along a sleeve that had picked…
I own fourteen pairs of joggers. Fourteen. I counted them properly last Sunday, laid out on the bed like some sort of intervention, and stood there doing the math on…
I once showed up to a friend’s engagement dinner wearing a lavender shirt with charcoal gray pants and what I can only describe, in hindsight, as a general air of…