Good things come to those who wait

This past month, I've been mostly watching football and curating my burgeoning collection of Ann Demeulemeester masterpieces. In other words, I managed to snatch a couple of past season goodies that had been loitering in my Yoox dreambox, at a very agreeable discount price.

As someone whose income doesn't quite meet the requirements of her expensive taste, I've long since given up trying to buy on-trend pieces. Can't really afford the designer garb and don't really feel satisfied with high street knock-offs. Instead, I tend to look at my favourite designers' collections trying to identify pieces that could become my wardrobe classics and try to get them later. Fortunately, my conception of must-have pieces seems to be a bit odd, so I usually get very lucky at sales and discount stores or second-hand shopping.  Of course I'm still very much affected by trends, for instance this summer I want to wear trousers with floral or abstract prints and something that floats behind me, just like all the other cool kids in flower jeans or mullet skirt.

I fell in love with Demeulemeester's hazy black-and-white print as soon as I saw the spring-summer 2010 collection. Now that I have these stove-pipe pyjama pants in black silk satin, I still don't know whether the print is a bird or a flower, but I love love love it.

(If I ever get married, I'd love to do it in the long skirt from the same collection, white or black.)

The other thing I got is an off-white version in silk chiffon of this wrap-around thing from s-s 2011. It's actually cut like a wrap mini skirt with a long asymmetrical side/back hem. I'll probably wear it on top of a black dress or trousers, or peeking under a longer dress.

(catwalk pics from Style.com)


But enough about me, have you dolls been successful treasure hunting during the summer?

Sweet shine

I've come to realise that I make most of my fashion choices based on how things feel on my skin. My hypersensitivity/neurosis (a rose by any other name) guides me naturally towards flowing lines and soft fabrics. A touch of silk next to one's skin has proven to be nature's strongest antidepressant. To balance all this softness and flowy-ness, my feet are happiest encased in leather, with a tall heel underneath.

The neurotic fashion fan gets into trouble when it comes to accessorizing and jewellery. Forget belts, forget skinny scarves - both are suffocating. Forget any bag you can't wear across your body - my hands and arms need to be free! All the time! (Hats and large scarves provide safety, as do big sunglasses, so they are ok - but never wear all three at the same time.)

As to jewellery, I can wear rings on all my fingers, but bracelets are a no-no - My arm looks and feels like it's cut in half, you know? (What do you mean, you don't?) I adore combining necklaces, pendants, chains and chokers - on someone else. On me, large necklaces feel heavy and bounce awkwardly on my chest and I hate seeing shiny bits when I look down. And the clinking sound they make! On the other hand, tiny, fragile, dainty pieces look a bit funny on someone emphatically not tiny and dainty.

Or so I thought before falling in love with a very special, tiny bit of oxidized silver (by Andromedii, at Etsy).



It has "random patterns on each of its wild yet soft triangular shape".



Despite its shortish chain, it doesn't choke me. The hollow pendant swings and sits beautifully on my collarbone - and I can play with it when stressed.



(All photos courtesy of Andromedii)

In short, I've found something to wear around my neck almost daily. It makes me feel a bit poetic, fragile even, and want to listen to this Sonic Youth song on repeat. What more could you ask from a piece of silver?

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GTWSYQjrDU]

Soft like a pillow

One can't have escaped noticing that for a few seasons now - or ever since (Etoile by) Isabel Marant became the nom du jour to drop  in the blogging circles - it has been all about The Sweater. You know, the kind of almost anonymous, almost basic knitted tops in soft shades of gray or creamy beige, that you think you can find in a dusty corner of a thrift store or  amongst your mum's nineties "treasures". But there's always something a bit off with the originals - the cut too boxy, the sleeves too short, the neckline too tight - or they've been machine-washed into a hard, cotton armor. Or, they contain an unforgivable amount of acrylic fibres.

In short, the best designer sweaters remind me of something my skilled and elegant mother would've knitted and worn in 1991. Luckily, she's still available and eager to work her magic with fine yarns and bambou needles. She gave me this pure merino sweater a couple of months ago and I have worn it almost daily. It feels as tender and warm as a mother's embrace. I don't think you could buy that even for designer prices...



As you can see from the evening sun in the photos, the spring is finally, definitely here, and I can contemplate wearing something less woolly. My mum's already at work with some linen-cotton mixes. The summer looks promising.