Homeboys Vs. Homebodies

   I’m not entirely sure when it happened, all I know is at some point I decided I was seriously comfortable hanging out by myself.  This realization was strange for me.  I guess deep down I’ve always considered myself a fairly social individu… pfff…I can’t even finish typing that.  The truth of the matter is, I’m just more comfortable when I’m alone…in the company of others.  “How is it possible to be alone with others,” you ask?  “Well, I’ll tell you how,” I answer. 

   I guess this topic came to mind the other day as a result of a conversation I was having with my brother.  He and I are infamous for discussing extremely random subject matter that often results in us comparing our often equally, “unusual,” behavior.  Keep in mind I wrote the word, “unusual.”  This is a characteristic that can also be referred to as, “eccentric,” which is often perceived as, “charming,” by polite society.  Anyway, during this particular exchange my brother was explaining how he would rather go to public functions with a companion.  He was of the opinion that there’s strength in numbers and he felt more confident in social situations when among others he knew.  It was at this time that it occurred to me that my preference may be a little odd.  While I consider myself exceptionally lucky in regards to the fact that I have many close friends, I couldn’t help acknowledging the fact that I possess more confidence while alone in public.  “What the heck does that say about me?” I wondered.

   The whole topic began to consume me, (in between daydreams of new spring sandals, of course.)  "Why would I feel more comfortable by myself," I questioned?  I considered it for days and the only answer I could come up with was, control.  I like to be in control of every situation.  A good example of this happened frequently while I lived in Minneapolis, MN.  During that time, I often found myself going to the movies alone.  Thankfully, this wasn’t a result of not being able to find someone to go with me.  It simply was because I preferred to engage in this activity by myself.  I reasoned, when alone, one can choose any movie they’d like to go to, whether it’s the artsiest hipster flick or the crappiest mainstream flop.  In addition, while flying solo, one can choose any seat in the theater they’d prefer and spread out as wide as they like because there's no one else to contend with.  Let me tell you, this is a perk to consider since some of us are extremely OCD and demand to always sit in the very back row of the theater, despite the wishes of anyone else attending.  In addition, certain individuals may be guilty of carrying enormous handbags that require an entire seat of their own.  Let it be known just because I went to the movies alone doesn't mean I didn’t bring a close companion.  I mean come on, Coach has been by my side through a lot of bullshit.  Lastly, if I start questioning my sanity because I’ve finally become lucid and realize I’m sitting in front of a movie starring Ashton Kutcher, I can bail with no explanation because, “Hey, Coach doesn't care!” 

   One of my favorite memories from my time spent living in the cities was when I went alone to the Uptown Theatre in Minneapolis in order to see the movie, “Lost in Translation.”  I remember I had the day off work and had wanted quite badly to see this particular film.  At the time, it was newly released and I knew little about it except the fact that I was very drawn to the movie poster and had heard the soundtrack was exceptional.  Many individuals had volunteered to go to this picture with me. However, for some reason I knew I had to see this one alone.  I will never forget leaving that theater by myself at dusk.  I walked down that sidewalk located in the heart of, what had always seemed to me, a giant city and I felt completely at peace with the idea that I was alone among all those people.  I certainly didn't overlook the fact that the movie itself was largely based around the theme of feeling isolated around others.  At the same time, this movie displayed the beauty one can enjoy all around them despite being alone.  I guess remembering the serene way I felt that night makes me feel comfortable with the idea that I immensely enjoy spending time by myself. 

   Of course, there was that one time I decided to attend a showing of, "The Amityville Horror," alone.  I love scary movies and was not at all intimidated by going to one solo…until I realized I was the only one in the entire theater.  I will admit that got a little creepy.  I guess there can be too much of a good thing.

-r.

Poncho:  Wildfox

Jeans:  Liverpool

Boots:  Miss Sixty

Necklace:  Thrifted

Ring:  Nine West

Sunglasses:  Vintage  (Anne Klein)

"What a difference a day makes!"

   Lately, I’ve been experiencing some pretty funky mood swings.  This is not because I’ve been obsessively listening to the Parliament album I reviewed this week on www.fitgap.blogspot.com.  Although if you want to discuss strange behavior, a solid example of it can be found in this bands' founding member, George Clinton.  Of course, Clinton combined eccentricity with enormous talent in order to create a persona for himself that is widely respected throughout the music industry.  Unfortunately, my strange behavior just makes me well…strange.

   The people who know me personally are probably reading this and thinking, “So? You’re always going through mood swings Rayna.”  I’m willing to admit that this statement is fairly accurate.  However, lately I feel like my emotional state has gotten even more unpredictable.  “Not possible,” you continue to think.  “Scary, ain’t it?” I answer. 

   Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m running around laughing hysterically at inappropriate things while mumbling curse words to myself.  In fact, that would be an example of extremely predictable behavior for me.  For the record, I see many individuals doing this type of thing and nobody seems to think they’re weird.  Yep, people just don’t judge at the public library. 

   Lately my, "mood swings," have been more subtle.  One afternoon I’ll be on top of the world about something funny I wrote, or how great my eyebrows looked in, “that one picture.”  Of course, the very next day I’ve already defined myself as a no talent hack who is way too old for a fashion blog and is two days shy of a unibrow.  Seriously though, I pluck my eyebrows daily and if I didn’t God only knows what my face would look like.  I worry about becoming elderly and how I'll be able to maintain my eyebrows if I’m too feeble to take care of them on my own.  Interestingly enough, I don’t worry about who will actually take care of me.  I just worry about my eyebrows.  Hey, I have priorities.

   Returning to the topic of moodiness, the other day I was on my way out the door in order to take pictures for this blog when I realized I just didn’t give a crap.  I had spent a decent amount of time putting on my makeup and picked out a fairly snazzy ensemble.  However, when I walked out the door I was greeted with those familiar howling prairie winds and another dreary day.  “That’s it!,” I thought and quickly folded up my tripod, walked immediately inside the house, and hopped back into bed, fully clothed, in order to take a nap.  Yes, I chose a nap over glamour shots!  What?!

   I guess if I was forced to define something as the cause of my recent woes I’d blame the weather.  A good example of this can be found in the above photographs.  These images are pictures I took of two consecutive days.  One of these mornings was full of gray skies and snow covered ground.  The very next day BAM!!!... “It’s spring lady!  There’s no snow so you better be happy!”  I guess I just can’t operate that way.  I need to ease into transitioning seasons.  There’s too much pressure to be in a good mood when the weather's nice.  Keeping this in mind, in the state of South Dakota “good,” weather never lasts too long.  

   Recently, the outdoor conditions have returned to doom and gloom.  This is the kind of weather I'm currently accustomed to. Unfortunately, I still feel like taking naps during the middle of the day.  However, my opinion of naps has now altered.  Seriously, what could be more glamorous than indulging in a midday snooze?  What adult really has the luxury to do this?  In addition, I can think of nothing more frivolous than dressing for bed.  In other words, for one to take the time to make up their face, fix their hair, and pick out a well-coordinated outfit simply to, “hit the hay,” is ridiculous…ly awesome.  I gotta say those soap opera stars are really onto something there.  Not only do they always look fantastic while waking up, they too, often find themselves laughing at inappropriate times and mumbling crazy things to no one.  I’ve concluded one can do all of this and not be judged if they're simply able to maintain fantastic hair...preferably while at the public library.

-r.

Outfit #1

Sweater:  Caslon

Jeans:  Liverpool 

Boots:  Vintage

Purse:  Vintage (Coach)

Scarf:  The Limited

Sunglasses:  Kate Spade

Outfit #2

Sweater Vest:  Fossil

Shirt:  7 for all mankind

Jeans:  Gap

Boots:  Ugg

Purse:  Sundance  (Gift from Mom)

Earrings:  Local artist

Necklace:  Thrifted

Sunglasses:  Vintage

Bob Dylan's Boots

   If you happen to be one of my regular readers, (a.k.a. my Mom or Dad), it’s probably not surprising to hear that I fully admit I can be a little strange at times.  I mean, so what if I’m prone to, "cooking up," bizarre stories behind the objects I thrift?  Okay, so maybe these fantastic histories come to mind so easily that I’m likely to accept their validity without a second thought.  Is it that big of a deal to think of oneself as slightly psychically linked to certain items?  Reading this last statement now all I can think is, “Man, I will do anything to justify buying a pair of boots.”

   Of course, this is absolutely true.  Not only do I own up to my multiple eccentricities, I also confess to my extreme decisiveness when it comes to something I want.  It’s shocking to me when I find myself confronted with an individual who can't make up their mind.  Multiple times I’ve gone shopping for clothes with different friends who simply can’t decide if they like something.  In the 36 years that I've been living I can't recall one instance when I couldn’t decide…well…anything. 

   So I guess here’s where I make another little confession, “I have absolutely no problem making decisions.”  In fact, I seem to be able to make them for myself and others, whether they ask for my opinion or not.  For example, you find yourself wanting to go to a restaurant and aren’t sure what you’re in the mood for.  This is not a problem if you happen to be dining with me.  It's a fact that I've already decided where we’re going long before I was even officially invited.  Likewise, imagine you happen to find yourself thrifting with me at St. Vinny’s.  While picking through the $2.00 bin you come across a pair of vintage black leather gloves that you think may be a little too, "old lady," for your liking until I cut into your thoughts with, “Oh my god!  Those are so perfect!  I can’t wait to pair them with that wine colored corduroy blazer I have!”  As a side note, I did find these gloves at St. Vinny’s last winter and they do look fantastic with my blazer.  Luckily, I didn’t have to rip them out of one of my friends' hands that day do to the fact that I attempt to adhere to a, “Friends don’t let Rayna thrift with them,” policy.  Basically, as a result of my, “charming decisiveness,” I acknowledge the fact that I should shop for vintage alone if I would like to maintain treasured friendly acquaintances.

   Could it be that I’m just a brat who attempts to get what she wants as much as possible?  Most likely…but here’s a thought, maybe I’m so decisive about shopping because I somehow psychically know that certain objects are meant to be with me.  Yeah…that sounds a little more realistic.  For instance, not so long ago I found myself, thankfully shopping alone, at the Ragstock in Duluth, MN.  While I was there I came across many vintage items that I immediately liked and considered taking home with me.  However, there was only one thing in the store on that particular day that I was certain was absolutely waiting for my inevitable arrival.  My thoughts sounded like this when I was cruising around the racks, “Sweater, sweater, ugly sweater…wait, what could I pair that with?  I think I can make this work.  Sweater, sweater…Oh, and there’s Bob Dylan’s old boots!”  Literally, that’s the immediate thought that popped into my head when seeing the boots I'm wearing in the above pictures.  Instantly, I knew Bob’s boots were going home with me.  Now, did I find them super attractive?  Meh…not really.  In fact, I already had several pairs of cowboy boots in my closet that were much nicer than the pair that confronted me that day in Ragstock.  Did I find these boots exceptionally comfortable?  Not really, despite the fact that Bob Dylan seems to have the same size feet as me, these boots have actually been well worn by the previous owner and as a result have molded to their particular foot shape.  So why you ask, did I end up leaving the store that day with a pair of uncomfortable, “Meh,” looking boots that I was ecstatic about?  Well, I guess because I’m a dreamer who likes to concoct stories to make myself smile.  Also, sometimes even the most decisive individuals need a reason to justify why they're so attracted to an item.  However, I’ll have it known that Bob Dylan is originally from Duluth, MN.  I’ll also mention that at least two of his album covers are the exact same color as my Ragstock boots.  Coincidence?...I think not!

-r.

Sweater:  Ralph Lauren

Dress:  Vintage  https://www.etsy.com/shop/ELOFSON

Boots:  Vintage  (Thanks Bob!)

Purse:  Gift from my Mom  (Okay, really this time…Thanks Mom!)

Necklace:  Thrifted

Earrings:  Handmade by local artist 

Sunglasses:  Roberto Cavalli

Hey! Don't cramp my style!

   Lately I’ve been doing a lot of deep thinking about shoes.  I partly blame this on my obsessive complaining about UGG boots.  Now don’t get me wrong, I love all things UGG.  However my affection for this company runs so deep that I seem to exclusively wear their footwear between the months of November through March.  Over the years I’ve begun to realize that one of the main drawbacks to having a style blog is self-critique.  It’s just so darn easy to go through old posts and notice, “Wow, horizontal prints really are a horrible thing!” and, “Anything involving the word Bubblegum, cosmetic product or not, is not meant for a 36 year old woman.”  Of course, this year my biggest criticism so far has been, “How many consecutive days have I worn the same UGG boots?”  I know what you’re thinking.  “Poor privileged style blogger is tired of her designer snow boots.  What a rough life.”  You know, I’m inclined to agree with this sarcasm.  Have I become so superficial that my biggest problem is wearing the same pair of shoes in every glamour shot?  Uh…yep.

   As a result of all this serious contemplation, I’ve decided to shift my focus on footwear for awhile.  It’s strange how I go through stages of obsessing over certain aspects of my wardrobe.  For many years I was, “crack addict,” crazy over purses.  While I still love all kinds of handbags, ranging in quality and quirk, I seem to have recovered from the severity of this addiction.  Of course, like any true addict I’ve continually replaced my former problems with new obsessions.  First it was handbags...then it was sunglasses...until it was necklaces...followed by belts...now replaced by shoes.  “When does it end?!” I ask you.

   It’s not like I don’t have enough shoes already.  I’m willing to guess any person who walked off the street and into my closet without knowing me would immediately label me a shoe diva.  Ironically enough, on several occasions I’ve literally come home and found strangers standing in my closet with my significant other.  It’s like every time he has guests over he decides to give them a tour of my closet!  His justification for this has always been he likes to show off his handy work at building walk-ins, but honestly I think he does it to simply get a rise out of me.  I mean, who wants the world to know their dirty little addictions, despite the fact they're covered in fantastic fringe and sequins?

   I guess what I’m getting at here is that even though I’m pledging to pay more attention to the aesthetic qualities good footwear can add to an outfit, I don't necessarily intend to suddenly go insane and buy four new pairs of sandals.  Did that sound believable to anyone, I was too busy, “yucking it up,” to tell.  Honestly though, I don’t need any more shoes in my closet.  I simply should pay more attention to the ones I already own.  Okay again, for the last two sentences I was in some type of fugue state.  Have I already mentioned the amazing Frye sandals I NEED for this season?

   You know composing this post now really makes me realize I might have a problem.  I mean sometimes one just needs to sit quietly and write it all down for the world to read.  Is it possible that I’m using this blog post as some sort of public confession?  Here’s a thought, was my special man friend simply trying some new type of therapy on me while he was traipsing everyone and their dog through my closet?  Could it be that all along he was waiting for me to acknowledge an issue that has plagued me for years?  My God, I feel like such a weight has been lifted off of me.  I want to run to him now and have him sweep me up into his strong arms so I can let him know I finally realize, “I think it’s my high heels that are causing me to get severe leg cramps at night!  The next time I buy a pair don’t let me forget to pick up some Dr. Scholl’s.” 

-r.

Shirt:  Old Navy

Skirt:  Vintage

Boots:  Thrifted  (Sporto)

Purse:  Loop NYC  (Andy Warhol collection)

Necklace:  Made by a friend.  (Thank You Fay!)

Dress for S...ilence

   Okay, so obviously I took the above pictures a few weeks ago, when there was still snow on the ground.  Now that the weather has significantly improved please expect to see photographs that don’t include me standing in front of a garage door.  Sorry about that folks, but there’s only so far one can traipse out in the yard without a coat during a South Dakota winter. 

   In addition to the improved scenery featured in my posts, I hope that this warming trend will also motivate me to get out and socialize a bit more.  Already people seem to be coming out of the woodwork, burrowing out of the hidey holes they hunkered down in for the past few months.  I'm certainly no exception.  Unfortunately, I have an awful habit of strictly hanging out at home, Starbucks, or the public library on my days off work.  If a person can’t find me at one of these locations wait about two hours for me to finish up thrifting at Savers or St. Vinny’s and I should eventually appear.  Yep, that’s how predictable my late-thirties have gotten.

   As a result of my lackluster social life, I’ve decided to try and get out a bit more.  You know, like…live a little instead of just read or write about it.  Not too long ago I challenged myself to attend a gathering of ladies that I was graciously invited to by someone I've never really socialized with.  Now I must confess this introvert was slightly nervous at the idea of hanging out with a crowd of people I did not kno…Oh, who am I trying to fool?  I was uncomfortable with the idea of hanging out with a group…period.  Let’s face it, some of us individuals just do better with one on one situations at hmm….I don’t know, Starbucks?  Yeah, I’ve heard that’s a lovely establishment.  Seriously though, if I don’t have a grande decaf vanilla latte in front of me as a shield from the outside world I get a little shook up.  Hey we all have our crutches, right?

   Returning to my story, on the day I took the pictures above I was anticipating the early arrival of spring.  Even though there was still ample snow in our yard I found myself excited at the prospect of warmer weather, finally ditching my Ugg boots, and of course, a more comfortable walk from my car to the door of Starbucks.  All of these thoughts made me feel rather lighthearted, which apparently made me weak and more susceptible to accepting an invite to an event I would normally run shrieking from.   

   Finally, the night of the party arrived and after long consideration I decided that I would wear the outfit featured in the above post.  I reasoned the event was more than likely going to be a casual one and due to the lingering cold temperatures a dress, or anything involving tights, would simply not be a practical choice.  Also, I was dying to debut my newly thrifted Sporto brand wellies.  I couldn’t wait to show off the fact that they have velvet laces and a heel!  Let me tell you the coffee at Starbucks never tasted as good as it did that day after my trip to Savers.  (It occurs to me now that Starbucks should really be giving me some kind of benefit for all the promoting I do for them on this blog.)

   Anyhow, I arrived exactly on time for the function, which by the looks of the attending guests was at least ten minutes too late.  I also had to remove my adorable booties at the door and enter the party without the one accessory that made me feel like, “Hey, I’m cool.  I can meet new people.”  In addition, I ended up being totally overdressed at an event where everyone seemed to receive the mandatory sweatshirt and jeans memo.  I like to think that maybe this is why no one except the host of this outing spoke to me the entire time I was there.  Is it possible they were all convinced I was a snob because of my super cute shoes…that were not on my feet…that were in fact resting in a wet pile?  After about an hour and a half of sitting on a couch by myself, staring off into space, I was asked to participate in a sort of group activity.  During this activity it was my responsibility to read the game’s directions to my, “teammates.”  When asked to do this one of the party’s guests said to me, “And you can read the directions.  I assume you can read, right?”  It was at this point that I thought, “Yes!  Yes I can read.  I can read quite well in fact, and that’s exactly what I’m going to go do right now,” and I walked out the door.  I guess the lesson I learned here is it’s good to try new things, but the old ones are usually better.

-r.

Jacket:  Nick & Mo

Jeans:  Guess

Boots:  Thrifted  (Sporto)

Purse:  Aimee Kestenberg

Belt:  Vintage  (Inherited from Dad)

Necklace:  Vintage  https://www.etsy.com/shop/ELOFSON

Sunglasses:  Vintage  (Gucci)

For the Record

   Lately I’ve been guilty of neglecting my style blog.  I remember a time when I would daydream about the outfits I’d put together for each post.  People would be talking to me and even though I was nodding in agreement with them, in my head I was taking a mental tour of my closet in an attempt to piece together my next, “fabulous,” look.  Unfortunately, these last couple months I’ve just not felt that fabulous about my appearance. 

   Now please don’t get me wrong.  I’m hardly suffering from self-esteem problems.  I guess I just kind of feel like a formulaic fashionista.  My pictures are all starting to seem so similar.  Maybe I need a new hairstyle.  Or, could it be that I should check out new, "exotic," shoot locations instead of my backyard?  Perhaps it’s simply a case of needing to change my regular lipstick color.  Here’s an idea, “A new purse would be nice!”  I guess what I’m getting at is, I seem to be in kind of a funk regarding style so don’t be surprised if my next post features me wearing a pair of hot pink zebra print parachute pants.  Seriously, I believe this would be more compelling than my same old Ugg boots.

   Despite my present feelings of, “Meh,” toward my wardrobe, I have developed a strong interest in my music blog (www.fitgap.blogspot.com).  (Yes, that last sentence was a shameless plug, but if I don’t do it who will?)  Now when people talk to me I shake my head and say a lot of, “I get that,” while obsessively thinking about which 80’s new wave albums I still need to locate on vinyl in order to complete my collection.  I’ll confess I never thought I would find an addiction that matched the severity of my clothing compulsion.  However, guess what’s just as fun as hunting down vintage ESCADA belts?  ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!!  Okay, let’s try again…Guess what’s just as fun as rambling on for paragraphs about one’s addiction to vintage ESCADA belts?  Surprisingly, it’s almost more fun to babble about what one was listening to on their turntable while wearing vintage ESCADA.  (Side note:  This is an activity I’m dying to actually try out, considering all I do is browse ESCADA on Etsy, sigh... and end up with another belt from Brighton’s 80's collection.)  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  However, one does have to wonder just what an, “ESCADA kind of lady,” might be listening to.  I’m thinking Lady Gaga, or maybe old school Madonna?  She’s certainly not listening to the classic rock that’s always on heavy rotation at my house.  Maybe it’s good I haven’t yet purchased my, “dream belt,” yet. 

   Writing all of this now, I’m beginning to wonder which blog I’m thinking about.  I’m starting to realize how confusing it can be to maintain a coherent thought process regarding two separate topics on a weekly basis.  At the same time, it seems that a relationship between both fashion and music is only natural.  The music industry is infamous for their many characters of style.  In addition, it’s not uncommon for me to look to my favorite songs for outfit inspiration before a night out on the town.  In fact, the ensemble I’m wearing in the above pictures was a result of about five days of listening to 70's Cher.  Wait…so maybe I haven’t actually lost interest in my fashion blog.  Maybe I’ve just altered my process of constructing a look.  Could it be that I’ve been concerning myself with nothing?  Perhaps my music obsession has not replaced my narcissism.  In fact, it suddenly seems highly probable that music could only enhance my interest in blogging about clothing.  Now I don’t just think of myself as a stylish individual with lots of cute things to say about nothing.  Yep, instead I think of myself as an intellectual critic with lots of cute things to wear while listening to great tunes and still saying, well…nothing.  Phew, I’m so relieved.  I was starting to think all this writing was just a waste of time. 

-r.   

Sweater:  Thrifted

Jeans:  Henry & Belle

Boots:  "Argh!"...Ugg

Purse:  Lucky Brand  

Belt:  Vintage  (Etoile "Made In Italy")  "Not quite ESCADA, but getting closer!"

Necklace:  Vintage  (Avon)

Sunglasses:  Vintage