You wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but I have a great affinity for clothing. Sometimes I look at J.K. Rowling–she of the vast wealth–and think, “Were I suddenly to find myself in a position to not think about money, I would most likely look as good as she does.” Not that it’s that easy, of course, but the money does help. I could have a good hairdresser that didn’t just disappear, I could schedule Pilates sessions with Deanne, I could have someone else do the cooking, and I could hire someone to find me incredibly beautiful clothing that looked great on me. Don’t get me wrong, I think I do okay clothes-wise, but my wardrobe is quite minimal and largely consists of second-hand goods, because that’s what the budget provides.
Which brings me to this shirt. I found it in a consignment store (the spendy one I don’t go to anymore, partially because we’ve moved and it’s not in my normal trajectory of things and partially because the prices are a bit high) and loved it, both for the designer name and for the colors and the fit. Alas, the fit is no good anymore so it needs to move on to brighten someone else’s day. The material feels great. Quality material makes such a difference.
I’ve rarely been the kind of girl that guys notice and comment on. This is okay by me, as I place the random guy commenting on the random girl in the category of I have named: sexist things we are hopefully moving beyond as we slowly but steadily progress to a gender-neutral society. (A girl can dream.) I can report that guys adored this skirt. I have never had so many random comments (“nice skirt!”) as when I was wearing this. It was bizarre, as it seemed to be no different than any other skirt I owned, none of which invited comment. I told a friend of this strange phenomena and once she found herself walking behind me she understood and explained. Apparently the two separate layers shift with the normal walking motion and make a rather mesmerizing spectacle. Ah.
Good to know. And since it doesn’t fit me anymore, someone else can enjoy the ogling.
Good to know. And since it doesn’t fit me anymore, someone else can enjoy the ogling.
You and I are on the same wavelength about wealth. If I were wealthy, I wouldn't want THINGS. I'd want a personal chef, personal trainer, personal tailor, and an on-call stylist. Haha. I love both of those pieces that you're having to give up. It's sad, but life moves on and you have to move on with it I suppose. I wish I could teach my husband that. I think I'll have to pry his old clothes from his cold, dead hands (I hear, "But it has sentimental value!" a lot).
I hate saying good-bye to great pieces. But I am with you and always do an at least biannual purge/donation. Everything fashion would be my rich person downfall. Though handbags and shoes would really do me in!