There's a Fiery Ball in the Sky!!!

   Lately a lot of the kids at my work place have been asking me, “Why is it still light out?  Will this day ever end?!”  Of course, this question always comes just about the time our staff is trying to round everyone up for supper.  “Observant little buggers,” I thought the first occasion this inquiry was made.

   I’m fairly certain that young Rayna never paid this much attention to her surroundings.  To be totally honest, old Rayna is more concerned about whether the cafeteria will be serving those adorable smiley faced french fries with her mini turkey corn-dogs.  As a result, the first time one of the tykes mentioned the sun should not still be out at 5:30 PM I was totally taken by surprise.  “Finally, spring is coming,” I thought between bites of the cutest food one will ever enjoy.

   I guess I state, “finally,” because I’m really starting to get tired of this weather.  Winter is a time that I can’t help but feel sheepish about posing as a, “style blogger.”  Admittedly, there is very little styling going on in my closet right now.  While I have a pretty decent collection of vintage sweaters and coats, I feel unable to feature them correctly since I basically have to pile everything on at once in order to brave the elements.  In addition, I haven’t even looked at my jewelry in forever because, what’s the point of accessorizing when you’re just going to cover it all up with knitwear? 

   Thank God over the years I’ve developed the sense to stockpile images of fall ensembles.  I can state, “I’m thankful to post an actual outfit today instead of simple coat and hat combination shots taken while huddled in the dicey protective structure of Al and I’s dilapidated barn."  Side note, when I finally run out of fall pictures, this is what you will be subjected to.  I apologize for the monotony in advance.  However, I do feel like I have a legitimate excuse.  The weather is just too damn cold here to realistically traipse around outside for glamour shots.  Besides I don’t know what it is about that barn but the lighting in there is magical.  The day it collapses I will be eternally dismayed on where to take portraits.  Who knew I would look best in a barn?  Wait…that last statement seems like a set up for mean farm animal comparisons.  Ah, well…

   The upside to this dismal weather is that I have the PERFECT excuse to buy as many coats as my heart desires.  Clearly I can’t take my outerwear off during glamour shots this time of year.  In addition, I can’t possibly wear the same coat in every post.  Although soon it’s going to be clear what my favorite thrift store find was this season.  Some coats are just too good not to photograph over and over.  

   Lately, I find myself continually trying to justify my thrifting habit to my boyfriend, “This coat cost me $9.00 at the thrift store.  $9.00 bought me a kick ass blog picture that I will be able to enjoy when I’m 80…and taking glamour shots of myself wearing yet another $9.00 vintage treasure!”  I simply don't get what he doesn't understand. 

   Of course, right now my readers...reader?...is able to enjoy what I define as a, "styled," outfit.  Except really, the only noteworthy thing I have on in the above images is my favorite new vintage sweater…but hey, it’s okay if that’s what carries the look.  Besides, I stand behind the fact that I’m dressed up in these pictures.  It’s called a Canadian Tuxedo baby, and I’m ready to hit any snowy northern town in it!

-r.

Dear Dirtball...

   Last night a long lost friend of mine messaged me an old picture of myself.  I literally gasped upon viewing it.  I barely recognized the girl staring back at me.  “Wow, how time has changed me!”  I wondered. 

   I would first like to thank this friend for sending me such a lovely reminder of who I used to be.  This comment may sound sarcastic when reading it, but I assure you I’m very sincere.  My friend captioned the image, “Another world, another time.”  I can’t help but agree with his sentiment.  I must state, while the high school girl in that photograph may be long gone, it sure was nice to see her again.

   My brother always teases me that, “back in the day,” my friends and I looked like real dirtballs.  Gazing at pictures from my youth, I’m inclined to agree with this statement.  However, I stand by the argument that it was the 90’s for God sake!  Everybody looked like a bum back then.  High end fashion designers like Marc Jacobs were sending collections down the runway that appeared to have been salvaged from Goodwill. Likewise, popular musicians like Dave Pirner, Evan Dando, and Courtney Love were living proof that it was okay…wait, more than okay…it was mandatory to look like hell in order to receive, “street cred”…and receive, I did…oh yes….

   …because I looked like crap!  For example the, “back in the day,” Rayna was privy to wearing her father’s old clothes.  She had an affinity for his old bell bottoms, which despite his skinny butt, were still too loose for her to properly wear.  However, she often did with the help of one amazing 70’s three prong biker belt she stole from him as well.  Interesting fact, I still wear this belt today.  In addition to these items, 90’s Rayna also often wore about three of her dad’s old plaid cotton shirts at one time.  Unfortunately, she had to buy her own flannel apparel since her dad’s librarian garb did not include this fabric.  However, plaid cotton often got the job done and it ripped easier too.  This added additional potential to my grunge look…a look that I constructed mostly out of over-sized band t-shirts, black on black converse high tops, and one enormous brown corduroy trench coat that young Rayna often conveniently used as a sleeping bag during her many high school shenanigans.  I think it’s also notable to mention high school…and admittedly, early college Rayna…refused to wear any makeup…okay, and often didn't comb her hair.  Again, I blame Dave Pirner.  

   I guess the reason I have my former self on my mind is due to the fact that I look at the above pictures and can’t believe the girl in my friend’s image is the same person.  The woman in the images above is wearing a tediously coordinated outfit.  Her hair is not only combed, but also straightened into a totally controlled bob.  She is wearing full makeup, and do I even start with her nails?!  Man, that third picture is almost spooky!  No wonder the kids at my workplace are obsessed with touching them…not that I’m going to stop growing them long.  I have a sick obsession with 80’s claws, but that’s a whole separate blog post. 

   I guess my overall point is while I’m pleased to see how my appearance has greatly improved in my older age, I can’t help but notice how much happier I appear in the images of my youth.  Looking at the photograph that was sent to me last night, I see a girl wearing a haphazard peasant top paired with windblown chaotic hair.  An awkward smile can be seen from a face bearing not a trace of makeup.   This girl is sitting in a field…actually, I was at the first Lilith Fair at the time...man, the 90’s were awesome!...with many other similar individuals and an unseen person’s hand is thoughtfully touching her arm.  While the girl in this image isn’t very special to look at, there’s something extremely alluring about the happiness she obviously feels.   I can’t help but think I’ll never be able to experience this kind of honesty again with all of this make up covering me up. 

-r.

By Jeorge! It's Jordache!

   Looking back at these pictures I can’t help but admit there was a time, not all that long ago, that I actually considered hanging up my thrifting habit.  As any avid thrifter can attest, the fruitfulness of secondhand shopping definitely ebbs and flows.  In other words, sometimes the magic is simply not there.  Of course, when one has been thrifting as long as I have they definitely don’t NEED another successful shopping trip.  In fact, if I have many more of these my closet is going to collapse...again...and let me tell you, I need this event less than anything.  There’s nothing that pisses a man off more than the unbelievably loud sound of wood cracking at 2:00 AM.  At least, that’s what I gathered by my boyfriend’s reaction to the last time one of my closet bars snapped in half from the weight of my clothes.  Who the hell knew mohair was so heavy?

   Yep, there’s really no better buzzkill for a thrifter than the idea that they may have crossed over from being a quirky collector into the horrific realm of hoarding.  Thank you A&E for, yet again, scaring the living crap out of me!  In addition to not wanting to succumb to a terrifying mental disorder, there is also the fact that I find myself making the statement, “It’s about quality over quantity.  I’m going to stop buying so much stuff in order to save up for those big special purchases.”  This is a statement I utter so often I almost should have it carved on my tombstone.  Actually if I was being totally honest it’s more likely to be etched on my urn, considering some of us are completely creeped out by the idea of being locked in a box underground to rot for eternity…just saying. 

   Returning to the topic at hand, I’m shocked to be able to report that for quite a time I was able to adhere to my, “Save for the special stuff,” mantra.  I had been experiencing a rather rugged dry spell on the thrifting circuit…actually, let me rephrase that…I was drowning in a river of ho-humness known as Coldwater Creek and I couldn’t face another day of mining it for gold.  I would like to extend an apology to anyone who may appreciate the apparel that Coldwater Creek provides.  I’m certainly not trying to offend.  However, despite my impending middle-agedness, I’m just not ready to drink that Kool-Aid yet.

   As a result of my break up with thrifting, I was able to collect more than a few designer pretties to add to my closet.  However, each time I look at them there is simply something missing.  They’re too pristine?…they’re too perfect?...hell, they’re just too damn normal!  The problem with designer merchandise if that even if each piece comes with an elitist status all one needs to possess these items is money.  Not that this is an easy task…especially for someone who works for a nonprofit organization like I do.  However, even after finally scraping together enough clams to earn one of these pearls there’s a certain letdown in the knowledge that a million other women who possess more money than I do bought it on a whim.  Mass produced items…even luxury ones made in Italy…are still intended for the masses.

   In closing, I’ve come to the conclusion that my perfect dream closet can only be achieved by a careful balance of hard earned luxury items and secondhand secrets.  One of the first items I bought after my thrifting hiatus is the faux fur coat I’m wearing in the images above.  I decided to give, “the hunt,” one last whirl when I ran straight into the best 80’s Jordache I’ve ever encountered.  Suddenly the drought was over and a floodgate of cheap faux fur carried me to a land that was no longer perfect…and I fit right in.

-r.

Too Much Tofu!

   

   Recently I came across an interesting post on one of the many talented blogs I follow.  The title was something like, “Skirts in the winter…it’s a thing!”  To be perfectly honest I have no idea what the exact title of this amusing rant actually was.  In fact, if I was really going to fess up I would admit I didn’t even read the actual article but merely scanned it while thinking, “Yep, I knew it.  I knew I wasn’t the only one!"  Sometimes the tiniest bit of vindication is the only thing a lady needs.  

   I freely admit I love wearing long, flowy, bohemian style skirts and honestly think I could convert to solely them if not for the plunging South Dakota winter temperatures.  However, in my mind that’s why God made leggings.  Let me state that again.  God made leggings in order to have something warm to wear under a vintage skirt in the winter…as an undergarment…not a primary piece of clothing.  If I want to wear a pair of comfy pants I bust out the Champion brand sweats…coordinated with a pair of baggy gym shorts over them…and a sweatband around my head.  Okay, maybe I don’t go all hardcore, “Goonies,” on my days off, but I kind of want to. 

   Actually, it wasn’t so long ago that I was on the hunt for a new pair of Champions.  I was standing in the middle of Kmart, feeling defeated, when I ended up calling my brother in a tizzy seeking comfort for the fact that there was not a pair of drawstring sweats to be found in all of town.  “All I see is freakin leggings and yoga pants,” I raged.  At this point he had to, yet again, remind me that it was no longer 1984.     

   I think it’s obvious I can’t stand the athletic wear movement that has taken over mainstream women’s clothing.  This is probably a statement that will not earn me a lot of popularity.  However, I just feel like these garments have become a uniform that makes the general public extremely boring to look at.  I mean what ever happened to individuality?

   I experienced this firsthand the day I wore the outfit in the above images.  I had dressed to meet a friend for the afternoon and decided to get groceries after.  Unfortunately, I ended up going to a store that I usually don't frequent since I was closer to it's location.  Basically, I’m super cheap when it comes to food and I don’t see the point of buying Ben & Jerry’s for twice as much, simply to be seen shopping with the, "Who’s Who."  As I was walking the aisles I began to feel self-conscious of what I was wearing.  “This is odd,” I reflected.  "I thought this outfit was dynamite twenty minutes ago.  What the heck is wrong with me,” I wondered.  At this point I took a good look at my surroundings and noticed the glaring fact that I wasn’t, "in uniform."  Every female who walked by had on a pair of leggings, a back puffer coat, and a pair of Sorel boots.  The fact that I was wearing a now embarrassingly loud 90’s, relaxed fit, leopard print jumper with fringed cowgirl boots suddenly seemed tacky.  “This would have never happened at Walmart,” I silently cursed.

   This last statement brings me to the real issue I’ve been pondering.  I can’t stand it when people mock the style sense of those who shop at good ol’ Wally World.  While I understand that Walmart is the ultimate evil that puts many beloved mom and pop shops out of business, I also acknowledge that this company employs and empowers a lot of individuals that otherwise may have a hard time finding a job.  Lastly, I'll admit that I make fun of Walmart.  A lot of strange stuff can happen at that store…especially if you find yourself there in the wee hours of the morning.  However, I will never speak evil of what people wear while shopping there.  I can honestly state I have never seen such a fascinating mix of style.  Whether it be good or bad, there is no better place to witness individual character on display through fashion.  Most importantly, one can wear a leopard print jumper to Walmart and fit right in.

-r.