How I rolled: Ikea/Costco

Okay, I'm not trying to get all Gwen Stefani on you, but I totes looooooooooooooooove Asians. In my next life I aspire to come back as one (but only if I'm a girl again, for obvs reasons). They are crazy and awesome and are clearly born with some sort of special fashion gene, because even the dorky ones always look super kakkoii! I cannot tell you how many times I've asked myself W.W.A.D. (What Would Asians Do?) while getting dressed for the day. I have had an Asian-inspired haircut for years. Even their language is adorbs!

This is me doing my best giggling Asian impression:





Anyway, circa 2006ish--when I was seriously living, eating and breathing horror films--one of my bootlegging bros introduced me to the Kinji Fukasaku film Battle Royale which I'm pretty sure was not released in the USA at the time. I had completely forgotten that film until I put this outfit on.



The dress is something I picked up during my pregnancy, and it was my go to piece when I wanted to feel fashion-y and cute in spite of the fact that I looked like I'd swallowed a watermelon whole. And Baby thought carrying a watermelon was bad?? At least the bitch could put that shit down! (BTW, if you didn't get the Dirty Dancing reference, you're so not my friend.) I didn't wear much "maternity clothing" when I was preggers. I tended to pick up pieces I'd be able to wear in the aftermath, but to be honest I've kind of shied away from a lot of them for several reasons:

1.) Despite losing pretty much all my babes weight, I still don't have a terribly flat stomach, so sometimes clothes that looked good when I was with child still make me look like I am. Not cool.

2.) The vast majority of the clothes I bought back then were empire-waisted, and since I'm still working with full Ds and have a short torso to begin with, they make me look much larger than I am. I learned this from watching every episode of What Not to Wear during those first few post-partum months when it was impossible to sleep. Thanks, DVR.

3.) Part of the fun of losing baby weight is buying new clothes to celebrate!

So anyway, I busted this baby out of the back of my closet the other day because I really felt like wearing a dress, but it needed to have sleeves since it wasn't that warm. Normally, I would probs throw a cardi over this type of situation, but my inner Stacey and Clinton were yelling, "Structure!" and that's when I had the Battle Royale flashback. When I googsed it, I was surprised to see how monochromatic their outfits actually where. But whatevs, this outfit says Asian Schoolgirl on Acid to me, and I am all about that.



Just pretend like these are blurry on purpose. Shut up, it's artistic.



Also, for as long as I can remember, I have snatched up any blouse/dress I could find that even remotely featured a neck-tie/ascot reference, so this one was sure to make it into my collection.







Anyway, yes I seriously wore this to Costco and Ikea. I know that perhaps many people do not see a trip to a price club as a reason to wear a dress, howevs I disagree. I feel about dresses now like I did about heels before: it is always the right occasion to wear them. Yes, I will pretend that the Costco aisle is a runway. I'm not scurrrred.



And when I realized that this dress is the exact same shade of blue as these shoes I've been sitting on forevs, I was stoked. Although I don't normally match my shoes exactly to my apparel this was just too good to pass up, mainly because these things are practically slippers so all slip and fall worries due to rain were eradicated. Score.



So Asia, I love you. Thanks for the inspiration.



And that's how I rolled. :) So the photos are no longer grainy, howevs now most of them are blurry. Clearly, I still have much to learn about this crazy digital camera technology. Bear with me, ya'll, we'll get there. Mwah!

Blazer: Ann Taylor Loft via Gabriel Bros. ($10?)
Dress: Lux (UO), via Gabriel Bros. ($5.99)
Tights: Daffy's ($5)
Shoes: Dollhouse (gift)
Feaths headband: UO via Gabriel Bros. ($2.99)
Earrings: Gabriel Bros. (gift)

xoxo,
-M.

How I rolled: The Warhol

Honey and I had a day off together, and we planned to spend it scouting one of our potential wedding sites: The Andy Warhol Museum on the North Shore. I love Andy and Edie and all things Factory, so it seemed like it might be a cool choice. We also thought it might intrigue some of our more far-flung friends to make the journey to The Burgh. I haven't been to the Warhol in years, so I was excited to scope it out again. I also figured it was a good excuse to dress up a little.

I don't get to wear skirts much... It's just not practical anymore, as I am typically found sprawled on the floor in a modified Chinese split playing or reading with my little beansprout. But it was an unseasonably warm day, we were on a fun mission, and I've been itching to bust out this little Anthropologie skirt I recently snapped up for 10 beans, so I went for it.


(Sorry for the random ultra stoic facial expression.)

This is kind of an interesting outfit for my first style post, as I am typically not at all a shirt-tucker-inner, however the pleat detailing of the skirt absolutely demanded it. Said pleat detail also did wonders for my post-bunny bulge. :) I wanted to blind people on sight, so I paired the skirt with this intensely bright cardigan. I think Mr. Warhol would be proud.





Then came the shoe question. Please believe me when I tell you that I used to live in heels. I'd throw a pair on just to walk to the corner bodega back in the day. However, in my present life, if there's a chance I'll be toting Miles for long periods of time, then I know it's best to stay somewhat practical. Hence these totes aws harness boots that I have been living in since Santa (aka: me) got them for me for Christmas. I'm a fan of the unexpected--especially when it involves mixing feminine and masculine pieces--and I think the boots gave the outfit a little twist.







Although it was warmer than usual, I still needed a coat and I thought my Marc Jacobs trench and this vintage Kangol beret truly deserved one another. Just a touch of espionage, if you will...





So I think we've ruled the Warhol out... The front foyer (which is the most budget-friendly option) is a bit smaller than I'd hoped, and the second most affordable option (floors 1-4) doesn't really have all that much to see. Although it does have the Silver Clouds room, which was hands down Milo's favorite. After checking it all out, howevs, we also realized it might be weird to have a reception where people weren't actually all in the same room. Though I think it would be grand for a cocktail party.

Anyway, that's how I rolled.



Now I'm off to try to get Milo down for a nap, after which I shall attempt to bust out our digital camera so I can stop taking grainy ass pics on Photo Booth. Wish me luck!

-M.


Hat: Kangol (vintage)
Trench: Marc Jacobs (ebayed - $12)
Shirt: Gogh Designs (gift)
Cardigan: Express, via Gabriel Bros. ($8)
Necklace: $2 guy - Manhattan street fair (you guessed it: $2)
Skirt: Anthropologie, via Gabriel Bros. ($10)
Tights: Daffy's ($5)
Boots: Mossimo for Target ($50) - Just like Fryes, only waaaaaay cheaper. (Thanks to Shana, of Ain't No Mom Jeans for the tip!)

How I roll...

I love fashion. For as long as I can remember I've had my own curious ideas regarding style, and they typically had nothing to do with what my peers were wearing. I first wore leopard print in the form of a bikini constructed (at my request) by my mom at age 9. Other style staples at this time included leather mini skirts and over-sized shoulder-padded sweaters adorned with large feathery brooches. Did I look like a pint-sized hooker? Perhaps, but my mother--a talented seamstress and costume designer--was always down with supporting my creative side. :)

I started wearing vintage in 8th grade, when my mom dug up a few of her dresses from the 70s, and this is when my love of thrifting really took hold. I can clearly recall the piece that began my taste for the shapes of yester-year: a white brocade a-line mini-dress with four rhinestone buttons my mother had made for herself in high school. From the first time I rocked that dress in public, it was on.

While my friends were busy shopping off the rack at places like American Eagle, I was scouring Goodwills with a fervor, snapping up bathing suits that I repurposed as leotards for my ballet classes, little boys' tee-shirts featuring long forgotten baseball teams, and old mens' work pants, cardigans or suiting pieces. I was just as comfortable in an 80s leopard print blouse and black vinyl pants as I was in my boys' size 4T He-Man pajama shirt and plaid school girl skirt. My style always leaned toward the theatrical--I was born and raised in ballet, which I abandoned only briefly to concentrate my efforts on musical theatre--and this background hugely influenced my fashion sense. In my senior year of high school (concurrent with my role in the class musical) I adopted the pencil skirt as a wardrobe staple, often pairing thrifted finds with seamed fishnets, neck scarves and shrunken cardigans, a la Betty Rizzo.

My mom and I co-designed a total of three prom gowns and one May Day dress (don't ask) that I wore with pride, and they were all simultaneously wild and fashion forward. Our first was a seaweed/fairy inspired little number with a patchwork lace top and chiffon strip skirt. The second was a liquid silver fishtail-hemlined goddess gown which I wore with long white satin gloves and a tiara. The third was a Romeo-and-Juliet-esque gold brocade empire waistline bodice with a tiered top skirt and straight cornflower blue underskirt, and the last was an asymmetrical silk shantung sheath with a watercolor chiffon train that attached to a removable v-shaped belt. I honestly don't know what my style would be today without mom's influence... it seems like she was always altering something to fit my non-existent torso or fashioning some fabulous piece out of scraps of fabric left over from some wedding or theatrical production she was working on.

Although my adventures in fashion often resulted in unfavorable reviews from my classmates--most of whom used fashion to fit in while I used it to stand out--I stayed true to my own strange stylings. I knew that eventually someone (other than my mom) would appreciate my quirky sense of style, so when I finally moved to New York after graduating college it felt like entering a universe of my own kind. I was overjoyed to note that I could literally wear anything in that city, and no one would blink an eye. It was the most fashion freedom I had ever experienced, and the friends and cohorts I acquired there only encouraged my assiness. It was not unusual to find me wandering the streets in vintage bathing suits (which I pretended were jumpsuits), paired with a wide belt, metallic heels, piles of gold necklaces, and a 40s era hat. That's just how I rolled. Case in point:


(Note: For her own protection, I've cropped the image to avoid revealing the identity of the lovely young lady who was about to get her ass smacked mid-dance party...)
(Note #2: That photo was actually taken in the very same bar in which I met my future husband! Oh the irony...)

In New York, I lived the fast life. I balanced days working in the hospitality industry with nights spent go-go dancing at a metal bar



or getting loose anyplace that didn't decide to kick me and my crew of rabble-rousers out.



I took gigs on the side acting in and choreographing independent films, and I got paid to perform--both legitimately in theatre and ridiculously as one half of a performance-arty rap band.



We did stuff like this:



and this:



and this:



I hair modeled for a fantastic German salon/training studio in Rockefellar Center. I model modeled for the absurdly aws feminist mag, Bust.



I rolled with a crew of hardcore dance-partying, booze guzzling, fun-loving, thug-tastical ladies, and we owned.



Then, this happened.



Now I always knew that I didn't want to raise no babies up in NYC. Visions of myself lugging a stroller down the subway stairs, cursing loudly, and hoping some well-meaning Mexican would offer his assistance (because seriously ya'll, I never saw a white dude help a lady down the stairs) had haunted my nights for ages, and I knew that the only thing to do was to take my baby daddy and my fetus back to the land from whence I came and where my huuuuuuge fam still resided: Pittsburgh, PA. Cut to now.



I'm a full-time mommy and grad student, a first time homeowner, and a part-time intern. I'm a world away from my old life, and thus we get to the reason I feel compelled to start this blog. I still love fashion, but after having my son I found myself minus the wardrobe I'd been curating forevs and plus a body I no longer recognized. I had no choice but to start re-building, and sometimes it seemed that either my style voice had gone dumb or all of that newborn screaming had left me deaf. I only recently happened upon that glittery unicorn of the internet--the style blog--and I've since spent many of my little one's naps trolling sites like homerunballerina, stylishwhitefemale, and whatiwore for fashion inspiration. These ladies are precious, creative and tiny.

Even before baby I was more Marilyn than Twiggy, but I never let my double digit size come between me and fashion. I don't intend to start now. So this blog is a personal challenge to myself: to work my (now even larger) curves, put together looks that are both flattering and fashionable, and to document my attempts here. And so I bring you Haute Mama. Join me as I figure out how to strike a balance between how I used to roll:



and how I do...





-M.