outfit diary

what I've been wearing

Hey, stranger.

I work in the engineering department of a tech company, which is full of exactly the type of people you’re imagining, so today’s column is about the clothes I’ve been wearing but it’s not really about the clothes. Mostly it’s a metaphorical getting-my-wiggles-out for all of my pent-up creative energy. Besides, no one at works likes to talk with me about clothes. Boo.

I was inspired by Emilia Petrarca of Shop Rat who was inspired by Young Kim, author of My Year On Earth With Mr. Hell, to keep an outfit diary of sorts. When I try to write about clothes I feel a knee jerk reaction to defend my interest in fashion, like someone reading this will yell at me about all the ways clothes are frivolous and consumption is bad and caring about what you look like is shallow. To that I say: yes, and yet. Yes, all of that is true and yet clothes are fun and we are all on this planet for a short amount of time, we may as well enjoy ourselves.

A Saturday morning pilates class always sounds more fun the Thursday night you book it instead of during the drive to the studio, eyes puffy and headache looming. I had people over for dinner the night before— I made brunch and it was delicious— and forgot that my mid-week self had higher hopes for my Saturday morning productivity levels. Nonetheless, I left the class feeling sufficiently cleansed, sweaty, and optimistic about the day. I got home and decided to forgo the shower, opting instead to squeeze into a pair of bubblegum pink linen shorts and a multicolored cropped top which was, in hindsight, entirely too tight of an outfit for the farmer’s market on a 95° day. This is my summer of flip flops, I’ve decided, because I spent my Saturday shuffling along the farmer’s market and delighting in the sound they make on hot pavement. My dear friend Schuyler says that a farmer’s market is just an opportunity to look like an off duty model and well… she’s right.

I don’t fuck around when it comes to my jewelry collection. I’ll let any of you borrow my clothes whenever you want but no one is touching my necklaces. Rarely do I leave the house without my 3 earrings and a cuff in each ear, a watch on my left wrist, a bracelet on my right, 3 rings on each hand, and one of my beloved charm necklaces. The only time I start to consider breaking this routine is when I'm walking around in the heat and my fingers are the size of sausages, my rings more like tourniquets than anything.

Do you want to go to this with me?

I had sent Allie an invite to a pop-up held at one of my favorite places to shop, The Stockist, a few days before and almost forgot about it when Tuesday rolled around. My day had been dominated by hours of Zoom meetings and a 5 mile run— I was very much looking forward to getting dressed. We stayed for maybe 5 minutes before deciding to get a glass of wine, which is how all great weeknight drinking episodes begin. I felt chic in my little kitten heels, which made me question why I never wear heels with everyday outfits? Probably because I kept getting stuck in the grass when my heel would wedge into the earth.

I am still new to the city and am trying to find an adequate replacement for The Monkey Pub, which I suspect may be impossible but I’m not one to give up easily. I wrote about socialite summer last week but I forgot to include the very real reality that putting yourself out there is great but you may also say yes to things that aren’t fun, or introduce people who don’t like each other, or invite someone to something that flops. It’s all part of the process.

I was running late to work the morning I took this. It was already 8:15am by the time I left and even though my commute is a good 35 minutes, I gaslit myself into thinking I could just slip into my desk at 8:30am like I had planned. I did not make it. I did however make myself a steaming mug of office coffee (3 french vanilla creamers because I am a sugar fiend) despite the oh-shit-I’m-late sweat dripping down my spine. The rest of the day was uneventful, the universe’s way of giving me a break, and the only notable moment was when a coworker told me that I looked like I was going to a concert. I still have not decided if that was a compliment or insult, though who can know?

The age of me being nervous about what people will think of what I’m wearing has long since passed. I’d be the first to admit that I did not grow up as someone who was always into clothes. In fact, I often felt a little left out of the club when I saw girls complimenting each other on their outfits and hair and makeup. If I knew what changed, I would write a whole essay on it. All I know is that I try not to concern myself with being fashionable and instead try and lean into what excites me, what makes me feel like a new character, what brings out certain aspects of my personality. The rest is just fluff.

I, like most people on Substack, read The New York Time’s article on How To Party (well, up until the paywall). From what I gather, people seem to be annoyed at the advice given, especially the sentiment that a host should not expect their guests to take off their shoes. I don’t care either way, and don’t know that I have any good advice for partying except these two rules:

1. Always have an exit plan (i.e make sure your phone is charged so you can order an emergency Uber, bring a friend with you, rehearse a mysterious “early morning” you need to leave at 9pm for). I am a introvert first, extrovert second.

2. Wear something you can comfortably sit, stand, and run in. You will occasionally think a certain night will be the night you can get away with wearing the shoes that make your ankles bleed. It will not be that night.

Though I wore this outfit to a coffee shop to work and not to a party, I had forgotten that these pants are so low rise they border on obscene. Consequently, I spent the entire afternoon self consciously touching my lower back to make sure my pants hadn’t ridden too low. I broke my own rule #2.

One of the things I love about clothing is how when you wear a color you don’t often sport, it feels like Everyone Is Looking At You And Noticing You Never Wear Green. No one cared! And I felt all of the joy that comes with getting out of my comfort zone in the safest way possible: wearing two shades of green and low rise pants.

Every summer I get heat stroke at least once, usually in June and usually at the worst time possible. Once it happened to me while I was riding a moped and I fell straight forward, which also happens to be how you accelerate. I think someone caught me, or I slammed into a car (don’t remember), but I escaped relatively unscathed. This year I got a mild case of it 3 hours before an engagement party that I was helping host. I passed out at 3pm, woke up at 5pm and somehow made myself presentable in 20 minutes. My bad luck extended to the first few hi how are you’s of the night because my heel got stuck in between rocks and I fell into the bride-to-be’s arms but at least I had a cute dress on! I want to be buried in this dress.

If I had another piece of advice to give to the New York Times it would be this: always wear something you can dance in. Dancing at events can be awkward but it’s somehow more awkward, for me, when I don’t dance because I’m scared my clothes will fall off. This is especially true at anything wedding related when the only music that gets played is 80’s rock which is coincidentally the only music I listen to.

I wore this today while I sat in work meetings and drank 50 oz of water and doodled in my journal during sprint planning (agile development reference). I was not planning on leaving the house and had no one to witness my outfit but that is exactly how I know that my love affair is just between my closet and me: I like to dress up for myself. It’s not unlike pouring yourself a glass of wine just because, or taking a bubble bath, or buying yourself expensive chocolate. Having the luxury of putting together outfits that make you happy is just that— a luxury. And I am forever indulgent. The way I dress changed when I started loving myself more, or maybe I started loving myself more when I changed the way I took care of my own desires.

Anyway. I just noticed that my socks are two different lengths on my ankles in this picture and although I’m embarrassed about it, I trust you won’t judge me.

This is one of those outfits that came to me in the middle of the night. I had been avoiding eye contact with this skirt for months now, afraid it would make me look too I’m-From-Portland. Call it fate or divine intervention, but I shot up in bed on Wednesday night and on Thursday morning, I finally unfolded the mass of yellow and orange fabric from my shelf.

My post-work plans just so happened to be a crossover episode I had orchestrated (jazz night at the record shop!) and I spent the evening flouncing around in my new favorite outfit, eating far too many sour gummies on the patio, soft jazz providing quite the soundtrack. My friends got along with each other, much to my delight but not surprise, and I took it as a sign that maybe there is a higher power out there who finds the joy in the little things like a well planned outfit and a perfect setting for new friendships.

Thank you for hanging out with me while I talk your ear off about the clothes I’ve been wearing. I hope that wherever you are you’re not taking yourself too seriously and are enjoying the first day of July and have indulged in whatever it is that makes you feel loved. I am currently on an evening walk in my new lilac sweater and blue sneakers and feeling very grateful for those of you reading this.

xoxo,

Evie