happy belated

I’ve written about becoming a more private person (I could link to it, but that might defeat the purpose), and that informs my celebration of holidays like Valentine’s Day. I no longer want to perform my relationships for the world. Which isn’t to say I’d shame those who do – it’s just no longer my…

damsels, dames, & dior

It snowed a foot and the winds are punishing, but this is what I opted to do with my snow day. You don’t get between a woman and a long-dead midcentury designer, that’s for damn sure. Dior’s “New Look” collection launched seventy years ago yesterday, and a late homage is better than none. I’m not…

cig figs

I never thought I’d own a pair of cigarette pants, but fifty years ago no one thought we’d put a man on the moon. Shit happens. I picked up these pants at The Getup Vintage on my most recent trip to Montpelier. We went in search of a Kabuto nest, but ended up with a…

a quick remix

“Local Vermonter sick of winter” is hardly a press-stopping sentiment, yet here we are. At least February’s short length means that something upstairs loves us. Or so I keep telling myself. You’ve almost definitely seen this outfit, or parts of it, on Instagram (@quando_porpoise). It’s one of my go-to work outfits lately.  I’m trying to…

pieces de resistance

I’ve thought a lot about fashion as resistance lately. It’s part, I think, of why I’m suddenly drawn to the ’30s and ’40s: art that comes out of tragedy is more interesting. Anyone can doll up in petticoats when the living is easy. To keep making things beautiful while the world falls apart – that…