From Sasha at Violet Folklore
What is it with me lately? Though I consider my ideal (modern) fashion era to be somewhere around 1963 or 1964 (think the Space Age dreaming of the Sexual Revolution), lately my tastes have taken a strange turn. Like a lovesick fool, I am falling all over myself in a nearly embarrassing way for vintage clothing from the 1980s that exudes a preppy, posh snobbery-- the more gold chains, equestrian references, and red plaid, the better!!! The weirdest thing is, although I didn't notice it at first, when I looked at all of my favorite scores I noticed that single every piece just HAPPENS to have the word "Club" in the brand name! Two Hunt Club scores in one day, and then this, the Ultimate:
Weird, eh? The economy is tanking, and my own financial portfolio has never consisted of more than some really great, well, receipts (round trip plane ticket to Australia to follow The Cure, anyone?)-- even during the most booming of times. I've never owned a horse or a new car, and the only club I've ever been in was French Club in high school. Am I inadvertently applying a New Age "Power of Positive Thinking" philosophy to my fashion choices (as in, if I dress rich, I will BE rich, a la the Law of Attraction)? Or am I looking at my bucolic surroundings with the eye of someone who has been reading a LOT of fashion magazines lately, and deciding that I want to be a "Country Gentlewoman" instead of a hick? (I do truly love the articles that show up in Vogue that feature so-and-so flitting effortlessly about their estate in the English countryside dressed in tweed and burnished leather...!)
Really, though, the strongest contender for this change in my taste is something infinitely more embarrassing to admit. Once a week Chris and I go over to our TV-owning friend's house for a very important date: pizza, beer and, well...
C'mon ladies, you know what I'm talking about. I will vouch for the solid writing (I call it Jane Austen in fast forward), but what would the show be without Chuck Bass and his amazing outfits?
Um, yeah. And although I find most of the ladies getups to be WAY to modern for my tastes, sometimes Blair Waldorf, queen of the preppies, hits the nail right on the head:
With the red lace tights?!?! Oh no she didn't!
Well, my secret is out now. A bit surprising, if you know me and my (lazy) socialist ways at all. But come to think of it, this isn't the very first time a hardcore preppy look has bowled me over. Does anyone remember this?:
Meanwhile I love how Amber rocks this brown hounds-tooth sweater (you know how I feel about the hounds-tooth!) that I found last week. So distinguished! So sophisticated!
You won't find me fox hunting or puffing on a pipe in a wood-paneled library any time soon (at least, by my best guess.... and definitely no on the fox hunting!), but if you see me dressing Above My Station, please be understanding. These clothes are just coming to me, and I can't fight my destiny. I am putting the Club back in Country.
P.S. Dear Universe, I need a riding hat, and I need it now.