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How to be a Thrift Monster

amanda_lee — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 02:45:09 +0000

I am a certified thrift monster. You can ask anyone I know. Since I’ve been focusing on getting my money in order, spending a lot on clothes has taken a backseat to spending a lot on paying off debt and saving. So I spend as little as possible and try my damndest to look amazing nonetheless, and it’s made me really, really resourceful when it comes to thrift shopping.
On Saturday, I hauled my sick ass out of bed [yes, I had the flu, and I still do - hence the dearth of posting this weekend] and accompanied my good friend Matt [who posts his kickass sci-fi writing here under a Creative Commons license - check it, kiddos, it'll rock your socks off] to procure an outfit on the cheap for an event he was attending Saturday night. Here’s everything I taught him, and how it went down.

Go often. You will not get a brand-new wardrobe of mint-condition secondhand clothing in one single trip to one single thrift shop. It’s just not going to happen. So you’ve got to go more than once. Remember, you’re getting it for cheap, so it’s going to cost you some time.

Go to lots of different stores. If you visit seventeen different thrift stores, your luck will be better than if you’d just visited one. Even better, you’ll be able to get a sense of what each store has in spades. For instance, I go to one thrift specifically to search for silk blouses from the eighties to wear under sleeveless dresses and with pencil skirts, another for mint-condition name-brand dresses, and a third for old hats and shoes. I’m more likely to visit Village Thrift on a Monday, when everything is fifty cents; if I’m shopping on a Tuesday, I’ll go to the Salvation Army close to my work, because their clothing is half-off on Tuesdays. See what I mean?

Don’t try to do a ton of shopping in one day. It is very tempting to take the above two pieces of advice and then say, “OMG! I’m going to spend all day Saturday going to all the thrift stores in the tri-state area!” After a couple of hours, your eyes will glaze over and you’ll never want to touch a piece of old fabric again. Limit yourself to a couple hours at first. And don’t forget to . . .

Take breaks often, and eat. Your blood sugar is not a joke, people. Matt and I stopped at a grocery to buy granola bars and fruit, and we wrapped up the day with a good bit of Camp Washington Chili. If we hadn’t, I doubt we’d have made it as far as we did – four shops in two hours.

Come dressed to try on stuff outside of the dressing room. Both of us failed at this. Admittedly, it’s easier for girls than for guys – when I remember to do this, I wear leggings and a tank top underneath a fitted dress and/or a jacket so I can slip into skirts and pants without too much trouble. If you’re a guy, though, there’s a good chance you’ll get arrested if you take your pants off in public, even if you’ve got some little bike shorts or whatever underneath [don't say I didn't warn you], so…sorry. Line up for the dressing room.

Bone up on your sewing/repair skills, or make friends with someone who’ll alter things for you. Matt bought two collared shirts that fit decently, but I’m going to take them in on the sides so they’re more fitted and flattering. I bought a really great cap with an enormous feather that had fallen off the side. Fixing it will take me all of ten minutes. I’ve habitually bought things with stains I knew I could get out, missing buttons, or hems that had come down. I’m also a huge fan of cropping the sleeves of silk blouses and dresses to make them more my style. However, it bears noting…

Be honest with yourself about what kinds of alterations you can handle or are willing to pay for. If adjusting the crotch depth of that awesome pair of MIA-inspired pants is out of your realm, don’t get ‘em – they’ll sit in your closet and give you a silent guilt-trip every time you see them. Cutting down a plus-size dress so it fits a petite woman isn’t for the faint of heart, or the inexperienced at pattern morphing. I used to be notoriously over-ambitious about what I could actually accomplish with my thrifted goods, and it was a hard lesson when some of them sat in my closet for months on end, waiting for me to take action on them.

Also, be honest with yourself about how flexible you can be on condition and fit. Tattered prom dresses are adorable, but how comfortable are you showing up to brunch in a dress that’s literally in shreds? Do you care if your vintage cashmere sweaters are covered with pills and dog hair? Are you fine with a shirt whose sleeves have been cropped – messily? Be honest with yourself. If you wouldn’t buy it new, it’s not acceptable in vintage.

Bring socks or stockings. On the day that you do not bring socks, you will find the most adorable pair of vintage shoes, and you will be unable to try them on without fear of all manner of fungus and funk getting all over your feet.. [Matt's way of dealing with forgotten socks was to buy the shoes in question - they were four bucks - and if they didn't fit, he planned to give them to someone that could wear them or donate them back for a tax deduction. I recommend this, but not as much as I recommend bringing socks in the first place.]

Resist the urge to buy things for their absurdity value. It is so tempting to buy a multicolored sequined dress with an asymmetrical hem and a big flounce on one shoulder or a 1970s-era plaid suit with enormous lapels and a monogram on the sleeve that reads “Killer”, but how many times will you actually wear that? Be honest with yourself. [Okay, I might wear that sequiny flounced dress every day. Do as I say, not as I do.] If you must brag to your friends about that ridiculous sweater with the coffee cup knit into the front and coffee-bean-shaped buttons up the back, take a photo.

Bargain. This may make some thrifters feel self-conscious, but I’m pretty unabashed about it. “I’m going to have to take this to a tailor to fix the hem. Can I have twenty percent off?” [Never mind that the tailor is actually myself.] It works for me about half the time. That cute feathery cap I got on Saturday that I have to fix? Totally got a couple dollars knocked off the price.

Above all, shop for quality. It’s tempting to grab armloads of cute thrifted stuff, but really how much will you wear it? Think about cost per wear, and be realistic.

Tomorrow I’ll have photos of all the cool stuff we got. I’m in the process of reinstalling Creative Suite on my cute little Hackintosh, and I’m not sure exactly how it’s going to work. I’ll figure something out.

Until then, do you have any thrifting tips to add?

No related posts.

OMG Shoes [for ladies with bigger feet!]

amanda_lee — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 00:30:12 +0000

[A quick note: apologies for my absence yesterday. Sunday I got horrifically sunburned, so I was already in a terrible mood, and then I took a drink from a glass that I didn't know Chris was using to store one of his contact lenses. Yup, I swallowed it. And he was blind for the better part of the day. I had to run around and find him some new ones, a feat that was exhausting and frustrating. I'm buying him a pair of glasses, I think, so that the next time I ingest a contact lens of his, he's got no excuse for not getting new ones himself.]
One of my closest friends always balks at going shoe shopping. She loves it, but being of the Glamazon persuasion, her feet don’t fit into the shoes that most shoe shops carry – she wears an 11. She makes do – nay, she rocks her pumps and boots hard – but I know she’s envious of all us other chicas with more options. So this post goes out to her. All the shoes below come in sizes up to 11, and some go even bigger than that. I tried to price them at different price points and grab a few different styles – flats, heels, boots, oxfords, but no sandals.
['Cause you know you're looking forward to not having to wear them anymore, right? Autumn forever!]

[Disclosure: None of the links below are affiliate links. Sometimes I use 'em, but for a post as product-intensive as this, it just seemed overzealous. Make sense?]

Eric Michael Women’s Soho ankle boot: $135. Adorbs, and available in four colors. I’d like something similar for myself. [Note: Amazon didn't seem to have any more of these in larger sizes at the time of posting, but I found some on Endless.com, which I believe is one of their subsidiaries.]

Frye Jane 14-stitch boot: around $300 on Amazon. Fun fact: Frye is the oldest shoe manufacturer in the United States. Also check out the Frye harness boots for around the same price.

Love these Oxford Weave heels from All Black. $113.95. I’d wear ‘em with yellow tights peeking through. [Then again, what wouldn't I wear with yellow tights peeking through?]

Seychelles Gypsy sandals, $80-$90. I kinda want these to go a little more on sale and then wear ‘em for the rest of the summer. They look comfy.

Steve Madden Ulltra Pump,$50-$75. He’s got a penchant for titling his shoes with misspelled words, but I’m not complaining too much, because they’re pretty great for the money. This style’s available in tons of colors/fabrics/skins. Versatile as hell. What’s not to love?

Steve Madden Impereal T-Strap [Again with the misspellings! My inner copy editor is screaming!], around $60. They also make this style in red, but it’s sold out in size 11. Boo, Steve!

Aldo Sejkora, $14-35. In black and white. Aldos are amazingly comfortable and well-made, too – you’re getting a bargain.

Aldo Lubbs, $90. Embracing menswear-as-womenswear.

Jungle Java, from Indigo by Clarks, $100. Like something Gatsby’s lovers would wear.

Seychelles Lauren peep-toe pumps. $56-90. Awesome, no?

What shoes are you guys loving for fall? Do you ever have trouble finding shoes? Want me to do some research for you on shoes, fashion, or anything at all?

Style Song: 8.4.2010

amanda_lee — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 21:35:31 +0000

This is a new thing I’m trying – flexing some writing muscles while ogling fashion goodies. Let me know what you think!

[source]

When I first laid eyes on this cloak
My vanity it did provoke
Where regal meets punk
With first-rate sparkly junk
I’d buy it, but then I’d be broke.

Avoiding Fashion Impulse Buys

amanda_lee — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 02:47:24 +0000

[source]

Impulse buying: we’ve all done it. Maybe you can’t resist a deal, and there happened to be a sale rack chock-full of awesome tops, so you grabbed eighteen. Maybe you didn’t realize you already had a navy sheath dress, ’cause it was buried behind a winter coat. Maybe you wanted to wear your favorite blazer on a cool day, but it was dirty – so you popped into a Gap to get a similar one. And maybe you didn’t realize this morning when you got dressed that tonight you’d be having drinks with Philip Seymour Hoffman, but now that you’re on your way to meet up with him, the plaid dress you’re wearing is definitely not chic enough – so you’ve gotta get something else.

I used to be especially guilty of the latter. I’d get off work at the Art Students League, wearing scrubby clothes [because it's an art studio and I learned early on not to wear anything important there, lest it become covered in shades of chromium green and lead white], and then I’d get a text from my friends: “Dancing! You coming?!” “Sure.” So before I could meet up in my paint-splattered glory, I might have run by Forever 21 to get some new threads.

Obviously, I could have avoided this by thinking ahead: “It’s Thursday. On Thursdays my besties like to meet up to drink vodka until we can’t see and dance until we can’t stand up. I should bring my Vegas leggings to wear.” But I didn’t, which was dumb. There’s no way I can go back over my banking records to see how much this habit cost me, but I’m sure it’s a lot.

From talking to my friends, I’m fairly sure that this behavior is common, and if not this particular one, then one of the others up in the list. I know at least one boy who, in order to avoid doing laundry, routinely made trips to Urban Outfitters in college to pick up new tees and underwear. So let’s figure out why we do it, and then stop, so we can be more conscious of our fashion purchases. Right? Yeah? Okay.

Know what you have. Know what you need. This is why outfit photos and wardrobe clean-outs are so important, y’all – if you don’t know what you have, you have no idea what you’ll need, and you’ll invariably waste money on stuff you’ll never wear.

Know what you’ll be doing so you can dress appropriately. We are far past the time when your outfits corresponded to the time of day. An afternoon dress isn’t that much different from something you’d wear for dinner. Save for a house-building expedition or a formal affair, you should be able to dress for nearly any occasion in an outfit that fits, flatters you, and makes you feel great, with a killer [and comfy] pair of shoes.

Stick to your style. Be realistic. We made style inspiration guides to define our style trajectories, remember? This means we should all be clear on what we want to wear, but just as importantly what we don’t. There’s nothing wrong with sartorial adventurousness, but be honest – are you really going to wear that purple sequin tube dress anywhere besides your best friend’s annual tacky clothing party? Do you really have the fortitude to wear 4-inch heeled boots? Will you wear that wool coat more than a couple times a year if you live in L.A.?

Do your damn laundry. I don’t know how else to say it. I know it sucks. I know it’s no fun. If you’re really, really opposed to it, think about sending out your laundry [which is exactly what I'm going to do the very second I get back to New York]. Real Simple had a piece last month about how often you should wash different pieces of clothing, so give it a glance – you might be able to wear it a few more times before you toss it in the hamper.

Be realistic about what you can store. I definitely see the appeal of buying good quality pieces at cheaper prices, so if you stumble upon a sale, get a few items. But don’t even think about if it means your closet will burst at the seams. Storing too much clothing in a small space means that it’ll all get crushed and wrinkled, so you’ll have to do more work – ironing, steaming – before you wear it.

Leave your credit cards at home.If you really, really have a problem with impulse buys, don’t allow yourself even the slightest option of buying. I don’t have any credit cards anymore, but personal finance gurus recommend freezing your cards in a brick of ice in your freezer – so that you really, really have to think about whether you need something rather than just plunking the card out of your wallet.

Know your pitfalls, so you can avoid them. If you can’t walk past a perfume counter without buying an ounce of something, you know you need to enter and exit the department store another way. If you love lingerie but already have enough for six honeymoons, skip out on a trip to Kiki de Montparnasse. One of my terrible old pitfalls was office supplies – I’d raid the office superstores at back-to-school time for batches of neat pens, funky-colored binder clips, folders, and notebooks. I used a lot of it, but I ended up giving a lot of it away. And now that I’m trying to live paper-free, I’m really regretting all the money I spent on it.

Practice conscious spending. If you’re focusing on what you can’t buy, you’ll never be happy. Instead, think this way: “I’ve skipped out on buying fancy shoes this month so I can afford a trip to Paris.” “I’m paying for a sweet-ass apartment – I don’t need new clothes!” “I bought a really nice dupioni silk dress instead of buying seven tops from Target.” Conscious spending means spending on what’s important to us. And fashion is important [obvs, or else I wouldn't be writing this], but not always the most important. So think before you buy.

Do you or did you have an issue with impulse buying? How do/did you deal with it? Share your stories below!

Links a la Mode: 7.30.2010

amanda_lee — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 15:29:00 +0000

I am so lucky to be included again in this week’s Links a la Mode with my amazing colleagues from Independent Fashion Bloggers. Just look at what this talented bunch whipped up:

Amanda Lee: How to Do More With the Clothes You Have [Instead of Buying More]

An Early-Life Crisis from Academia to Art: One blogger’s 26th design project on my quest to teach himself to sew and reach 52 in a year! Also includes my own sleeve sewing tutorial and this week’s project stats.

Beyond Fabric: A thought on online shopping. Is it worth building your wardrobe online?

Blah Blah Becky: LOVING iconic British brand Whistles’ AW10/FW10 lookbook

Brooklyn Posh: starting to love thyself: the health/weight debate

Beautifully Invisible: 10 curvy women – past and present – who are the epitome of sexy.

Dramatis Personae: Ch-Cha-Chain- Coveting & Craving Chain Jewelry
Fashion Limbo: 90s nostalgia after a party on a boat. Jessie goes through some memorable teenage-hood highlights.
Independent Fashion Bloggers: Fair Compensation Manifesto
Intrinsically Florrie: Looking to the French pâtisserie Ladurée for design inspiration.
Make the World a Prettier Place: A More Polished Look. Are women tired of distressed jeans and messy buns? It is time to leave this trend behind and dress up – even for everyday life!
Malvestida: The Headdress Day. A day that’s all about sharing creativity!
Mariel’s Castle: Experimenting with the newest nail trend
Oranges and Apple: On glamorising vintage life
Retro Chick: Friday Frock Love: Poppy Valentine
Scene On the Street: NYC: Mod Scientist
The Coveted: American Living $250 Gift Card Giveaway
The Demoiselles: UK department store shuns retouching…why can’t we live in the UK?
The Embellished Life: The History of Handbags. Do you have a hankering for handbags? Enlighten yourself with the heroic History of Handbags on The Embellished Life!
The Fashion Police: Why size should never be a fashion statement
What 2 Wear Where: Mad Men Mania: effortlessly polished Betty Draper

Enjoy, cuties!

Things I’m Looking Forward to About Autumn 2010

amanda_lee — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 04:07:02 +0000

[source]

Autumn is my favorite season, hands-down. So even though the temperature is still hovering around three digits and I’d rather puke than put on a sweater right now, I’m looking forward to it. Oh, yeah, I am. Here’s what I’m going to love.

Pencil skirts in four-season wool with pretty capes. I’ve been on the verge of making my own version of this beauty since it started to get warm.

Colorful tights peeking through open-toed shoes and laser-cut boots. I’m going to do a huge We Love Colors order, of course.

Actually reopening my Etsy shop, because people won’t vomit at the thought of putting on wool hats. Sampling my own wares and throwing cute business cards at anyone who compliments me on them.

Attaching faux collars to any number of my vintage coats. Mixing and matching. [And occasionally scrapping and yelling and mixing it up.]
Finally growing my hair out. This actually has nothing to do with autumn, but I’ve grown it rather uncomfortably from my old asymmetrical cut into a choppy, weird bob, and it’s high time that I get it shaped up by a pro so it doesn’t look weirder as it grows out.

Cashmere. So yummy. My favorite sweater is a cashmere DKNY wrap sweater I got for five bucks at a thrift store. I must find more this year.

Easing into boot weather.

Motorcycle jackets. I must have one. I’m searching secondhand. If I can’t find one, I might have to assemble one of these cuties thanks to BurdaStyle.

Inadvertently always smelling like pumpkin pie spices. Because, I’m not sure if you know this, but in the fall, I make pie daily. And with it, I drink tons of cinnamon toffee cream-flavored coffee with heaps of spices. Yes, the autumn is when I’m allowed to be a girl about my coffee and my cooking, damn it.

Will you please join me in giving autumn a warm welcome so it’ll get here sooner? Please? With salsa on top?

What I Wore: 7.25.2010

amanda_lee — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 15:47:35 +0000

Were you all stoked for the Mad Men premiere Sunday night? I definitely was. I’d been in Louisville visiting friends and parents, and upon discovering that my parents actually have a television and hence, I’d be able to watch it with the rest of the television-having world, I jumped for joy. In any case, here’s what I wore Saturday, in honor of Betty Draper. [Of course, now she's married to a politician so she's wearing a lot more suits, which aren't as fun.]

Blouse, vintage
Skirt, Tulle
Hat, vintage
Shoes, DV by Dolce Vita [on sale, y'all. seventy percent off.]
Two-finger ring, H&M
Circle ring, Avon

I’ve had this shirt for years. Seeing it in the photograph makes me think I need to take it in on the sides. It is polyester, meaning I was sweating my heart out in the ten minutes it took me to take this group of photos.

I got this hat at my favorite local vintage shop, which unfortunately doesn’t have a web page or an online store – pity! I bought about ten hats for four or five bucks each on that day, and I wish I wore them more often.

I ordered this Tulle skirt in both blue and black. I’m loving the shape, but I think they need crinolines to avoid looking droopy. I’m looking for a crinoline in an appropriate length. [Do you have one to spare? Hook a sister up.] My bandmate Hilly also bought the blue one. I think I smell a new band uniform.

The two-finger ring was an impulse buy at H&M. I call it my legal brass knuckles. The circle ring came from a friend of mine who sold Avon in college – she gave me some of her old sample jewelry.

I am now officially the girl who buys shoes on her lunch break at work, as you already know. I’m not wearing them on my commute or on regular office days, but I did wear them out to a bar and out dancing Friday and Saturday night, and my feet didn’t get too sore. I can’t wait to wear them with colorful tights peeking through in the fall.

[Psst: all these photos are courtesy of my good friend Molly Ann Chroneos. If you need any wedding or event photos, she's your girl.]

OMG Shoes: DV by Dolce Vita

amanda_lee — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 03:33:41 +0000

So, right now I’m working on a PR/web communications contract at a nonprofit. Most every day I either bring my lunch or I get to eat the leftovers from one of many conferences and catered meetings held in our building. Easy on the wallet, and pretty healthy, too, as a health care foundation isn’t likely to serve me junk.

But last week, I found myself without lunch plans. So I walked over to grab some new mascara at the Nordstrom in the shopping center across the street. And then I found these.

These DV by Dolce Vita wedges were on sale for almost seventy percent off their original price. They are hip and comfortable and I love them lots.

I wore them out last Friday to Neons with some of my bandmates, and then Saturday to Ramsi’s with Ben and Molly on Saturday.

Later this week I’ll show you the outfit I wore them with.

Six Items or Less

amanda_lee — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 20:42:24 +0000

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I wear. Not only am I a fashion blogger who occasionally appears in photographs on my blog or elsewhere, I perform onstage often in situations when my physical comfort and confidence directly affect the quality of my performance, and I’m employed in an office that, while permissible, requires a modicum of professional dress in its employees. [Would that I could show up to work in a sunsuit and wedge sandals.]

In general, a lot of us spend a lot of time on our clothing. We spend a lot of time caring for it – keeping it clean and in good shape, sewing on buttons, repairing hems that come down. We spend a lot of time shopping for clothing that’s appropriate for different situations or that demonstrates our personalities to everyone that sees us. We spend a lot of time trying on different combinations and seeing what works. For some people this is wasted time; for others, it’s fun or relaxing. [To boot: please bring me all your shirts that have missing buttons. I love sewing on buttons. Afterward we will have a fashion show and I'll style each shirt a dozen ways. Fun? You bet.]

And the time we spend on our clothing is exactly the issue that the Six Items Or Less project is concerned with. Each participant chooses a wardrobe of six pieces [not counting work uniforms, sleepwear, underwear, and outerwear] to wear for an entire month. The instructions page gives the option for participants to make their own rules, which on the surface seems like a bit of a cop-out. The lack of hard edges means that it might stretch to the size of anyone’s closet, no matter how expansive. After further reflection, though, I think I rather like the absence of any hard lines. It’s not an anti-fashion or anti-consumerism project. Instead, the project focuses on simplicity and self-knowledge: What do I like to wear most? Why can’t I wear that all the time?

I don’t think this project is the answer to someone who currently owns 72 pairs of jeans and needs to pare down [they need a personal organizer], or someone with an average middle-class paycheck who’s impulse-bought $6000 worth of shoes in the past month [financial advising, ahoy!]. Instead, for people who already have a pretty good handle on their closet clutter and their personal style, it’s an opportunity to think more consciously about what they wear and what they buy, and why.

And, oh man. I’m in lockstep with their driving forces. I’ve worked hard in the past couple of years at reducing my consumption, proving to myself that I can get by on less. [Weren't wejust talking about that?] From day one, I’ve been all about honing in on my personal style so I feel confident and comfortable in everything that I own. And you know I love to clean out my closet, making sure to keep only what I like most.

My predilection for fashion means that six pieces would be a stretch for me, as does my tendency to buy only the kind of clothing that can be worn both at work and after hours and my habit of changing clothes twice a day. I’d be doing a crazy amount of laundry; or maybe I’d buy seven of the same dress, since the rules say that multiple copies of the same garment can be counted as a single garment. But it might be an interesting proposition to limit myself to ten pieces or so. Thoughts? Would you like to see something like this? Did you participate in Six Items or Less or would you ever?

How to Do More With the Clothes You Have [Instead of Buying More]

Clothing I Remember Owning

amanda_lee — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 15:44:27 +0000

[source. I've used this photo tons of times, and it never gets old.]

It’s only recently that I’ve been a huge adherent to daily outfit photos. I wish I had more photos of me as a kid, because fashion was just as important to me then as it is now. Here’s some of the clothing that sticks out in my mind when I think about my favorite things to wear when I was younger:

A pair of silver Unlisted wedge heels that I wore to prom, and then to every formal dance I attended throughout college.

A pale blue crushed velvet short-sleeve a-line dress with turtleneck. I wore it to homecoming with my friend Corey freshman year.

Crepe de chine slides with beaded dragonflies embroidered on their sides. I wore them until they fell apart.

I had a lot of clothes with dragonflies and butterflies on them. Most came from the Delia’s catalogue. I also had an enamel butterfly hair clip that I once wore with flared jeans and a tank top and my teacher said I looked like a flower child.

I had a couple of corduroy jumpers from American Eagle that I’d gotten at a discount at Valu-City. I didn’t tell anyone where they were from.

I remember when my mother told me in fifth grade that I shouldn’t tell anyone we shopped at Goodwill. In retrospect, I see now that she wasn’t ashamed of it; she was merely protecting me from the judgment of some of my spoiled classmates [whose parents didn't have the word "no" in their vocabulary].

The red poodle skirt my mum made whose poodle fell off and who had been washed so many times it was covered in little balls of felt.

The matching shorter blue poodle skirt she’d made me when I was younger, but that I still wore. [I wish I still had these.]

The sneakers with lights on them. I wore them for the first half of sixth grade. After that, my feet grew, and I got my first pair of knockoff Chuck Taylors – plaid high tops. I bought them on the eve of one of the biggest snows we’d ever had in Louisville, so I wore them indoors for the entire time we were stranded at our house.

The red dress I wore on picture day in kindergarten. After high school, I ran into a classmate from kindergarten, who remembered me by that red dress.

The white Old Navy dress and cardigan I wore for Easter the year my mum got sick, and then again for graduation, and then again for sorority initiation.

The black suit I bought for interviews and then wore for formal events until my mum died, where I wore it and read an Adrienne Rich poem instead of something from scripture.

The bike shorts I didn’t have the confidence to wear in public after I turned eleven and got weird about my thighs. [It should be noted that I'm a pretty skinny girl, but that doesn't make me any less weird about my thighs.]

The sequin-fronted dance costume I wore onstage and felt like a complete baller. The similar pink leotard with tulle sleeves and a matching detachable tulle skirt that I wore in class.

The blue nail polish I got at age seven. I’d seen it in one of my first issues of Sassy, and I loved that I’d never seen anyone wearing anything like it.

The gold nail polish I got at age eleven. My best friend and I painted our nails and then went to the pool.

The Chic jeans with the back seams and heart-shaped pockets that I used to tight-roll around my ankles and wear with a huge Middletown Elementary sweatshirt. My best friend had identical ones.

The green striped slip dress that I bought on clearance and wore in the summertime for years. I also wore it as part of my Margot Tenenbaum costume one Halloween.

The blue handbag from college that fit a reporter’s notebook perfectly.

The dress my mum made me with a black bodice and a gold lame-printed skirt. I wore it to the holiday dance in seventh grade, and I felt hopelessly juvenile around the other girls in my grade, who looked a little bit inappropriate in dresses they’d gotten from the homecoming section of our local department store.

The white feather boa I carried to prom. The tiara that went with it.

The innumerable rhinestone earrings I’d gotten for fifty cents or a dollar whenever a store was closing. I wore them in ballet class and sometimes onstage.

My first sexy underpants – four pair of sateen briefs from Victoria’s Secret, with a couple of matching bras. These were requested as a holiday present with my then-current boyfriend in mind, who turned out to be not really worth the trouble.

The one-piece Speedo suits I used to wear when I was tense about my body, and the two-piece boy short-and-halter combos I wore before I ever thought to be. The boy-short-and-halter combo I bought when I realized that I would never be a swimmer and that I’m thinner and in better shape than eighty percent of all women, so I don’t have a damn thing to worry about.

The eyeliner I used to sneak on before school in sixth grade. My mom had told me I could wear lipstick and mascara, but no eyeshadow. However, she never said anything about eyeliner, not even when I asked her to buy me some on her next Avon order.

The denim jumper I always seemed to be wearing in third-grade phys ed, and the somersaults I used to avoid doing as a result.

The pajama pant-and-tank top set I used to have with polar bears printed all over it.

The orange terry cloth robe I bought for the dorm that barely covered my bum. A true Don’t Show-cha Your Cho-Cha moment, indeed.

The music festival t-shirts that my dad had gotten free from an event that he worked in three different colors. I wore them at least three days a week.

The plaid flannels that I wore in my oh-so-brief grunge fashion phase. [I distinguish my grunge fashion phase from my grunge music phase because the fashion lasted me about eight weeks in seventh grade before I grew tired of feeling unkempt, and the music didn't really speak to me until I was well into college.] My best guy friend and my secret crush had a flannel in an identical plaid pattern. About three times during that year, we wore them on the same day. When it happened, I pretended I didn’t see him.

The navy blue crew-neck with cap sleeves I wore for my very first round of theatrical head shots. They turned out badly and I ended up using my school portrait instead.

The white canvas rubber-soled sneakers – cheap but trendy and long-lasting. I wore them with white jeans almost all the time.

The very first things I bought from Aeropostale – a navy shirt with trees embroidered on the front and a pair of relaxed-fit jeans.

The drop-waisted paisley-print dress I wore to my best friend’s rehearsal dinner.

The plaid linen shorts I bought at an outlet in Gatlinburg during a youth group retreat in sixth grade, which my classmates teased mercilessly.

The pink bow earrings that I lost on the night I held hands with my first boy. [He later became my first boyfriend. And much later, he became a standup commedian.]

The pink sweatshirt that my best friend had splatterpainted for me. After we stopped being friends, I stopped wearing it, but I kept it for a long time.

The heeled flip-flops I bought at Express and then walked until the heels wore down to the taps during the summer after college.

The white skirt with rainbow stripes that I used to wear with tank tops during my first trips to Cincinnati.

The grey twill dress with salmon and baby blue trim and bird embroidery. The zipper on it always stuck.

The Minnesota hoodie that I had to buy because I went to Minneapolis in May thinking it would be hot, but was sorely mistaken. I lost it sometime after 2005 and I have no idea what happened to it.

A pair of denim shorts printed with stars and moons. I wore them with navy tops and gold celestial-themed jewelry.

Infinite numbers of white roll-down socks. I kept them all long after I started favoring tights over socks.

Sam and Libby bow flats in seventeen different colors. I attached elastic ankle straps to some of them so they looked more like ballet shoes.

A pink yoked bubble skirt with an elastic waist that I used for a rehearsal skirt when I used to practice for Nutcracker auditions in my parents’ living room. Sometimes I wore a crinoline underneath.

A black tank top with flecks of glitter that I’d bought at 579. I wore it with black capris from Express, silver jewelry, and black plastic slide shoes. Clearly this outfit was based on Stacey McGill’s best friend Laine.

Numerous, countless pocket tees. I had them in about eighty different colors between kindergarten and fifth grade. My outfit on the first day of sixth grade was supposed to have been a pocket tee with my favorite jeans and sandals, but my mum [who worked at my middle school] and some of my teachers guilted me into wearing a Crosby Middle School t-shirt I’d received at orientation.

My black wind suit I wore over my dance team uniform on game days. [Because clearly eleven-year-olds shouldn't roam the middle school hallways in sequins and spandex.]

A striped baja jacket I bought from my Spanish teacher. Purple and grey. It was pretty, but it itched. I only wore it when it was really cold – maybe a total of six times.

Half-up, half-down hair. With bangs and without bangs. I never did the crispy-crunchy Aquanet bangs, though.

A white and green kilt that, on the second day of eighth grade, my frenemy told my teacher was too short to be in dress code compliance. She sent me to the principal’s office without looking. The principal rolled her eyes, looked at my skirt, and stepped out from behind her desk to reveal that she was wearing the same skirt. I went back to class with a reprimand for the teacher who’d sent me.

Things That Contribute to a Wardrobe That’s Overgrown, Excessive . . . and Totally Useful.

amanda_lee — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 03:36:07 +0000

[source]

So, I’m getting ready to move. Again. And I’m getting ready to clean out my closet. Again. I spent some quality time with my Mint.com account today and realized that in the past year, I’ve spent more on both food and craft supplies than I have on clothing. Score for minimalism and fiscal responsibility! I’m finally feeling a teensy bit successful in achieving the utilitarian, minimal wardrobe I want, where every piece of clothing is something I want, need, use, and love. There’s none of the sentimental hoarding I used to engage in ["My mom bought me this dress when I was 14 and 20 pounds lighter! It was 1996! It was special!"], and quite a bit less of the impulse buying ["This purple sequined tank dress doesn't look anything like any clothing I've ever had or desired, but it'd be a great way to branch out in my style! It'd go over great on Lookbook!"].

However, my wardrobe continues to seem unwieldy and excessive. I daydream about the day when I don’t have to choose which outfits I bring with me on vacation, because they all fit into a suitcase. I daydream about replacing all the clothing storage furniture in my apartment with workspace, lounge space, a baby grand piano – something that doesn’t have drawers full of undies, because my undies fit in the closet with all my other clothes. As of now, though, my undies have to go elsewhere, because there’s no room for them between my bathing suit, two winter coats of varying heaviness, tights, sundresses, sweaters, and an old bridesmaid’s dress [which to be fair is headed for Goodwill this weekend].

I don’t think I’m alone in this, either. I am exceptionally well-versed in going through my friends’ cluttered closets to try and find order, and pretty much every one of us has stuff in their closet that they can’t wear all the time, but can’t get rid of, because they need, want, and love it and use it reasonably, given its purpose.

So why do even the queens of order and organization have all this clothing? Lots of reasons, it turns out.

Fluctuating weight or size means one of two things: either you wear poorly-fitted clothes sometimes, or you double your clothing consumption. There’s a stereotype of a woman hoarding her “aspirational” clothes that definitely don’t, and probably won’t, fit ever again ["I've got to get into my PROM dress, guys!"]. But I’m talking about people who know their own body’s variations and prepare for them sartorially – with extra clothing. Some people change sizes based on how often they’re going to the gym at any given time, or they gain or lose weight routinely from summer to winter. Some gain or lose a few pounds from day to day because of stress. Some women go through two or three planned pregnancies and they keep their maternity clothes, just because they know they’ll be using them again in a couple of years. Some women even vary a couple of sizes in the course of a menstrual cycle.

Extreme weather changes mean that you have to have more items that only work in one season. Like I said above, I have two winter-weight coats and at least four fall/spring jackets, plus the requisite tights, socks, gloves, boots, and sweaters that the extreme cold necessitates. And for the summer, I’ve got at least nine sundresses and countless sandals that are in no way winter-appropriate. My real home is New York; I doubt I’d feel as comfortable on the West coast; but San Francisco’s uniform temperature without as much seasonal variation sounds awesome to me.

Differing expectations for how you should dress in certain situations mean that there can be a distinct divide between clothing for work and play, daytime and nighttime, brunch versus an evening wedding. A smart shopper knows that a lot of these can overlap, but that depends on a lot of things: the formality of your work atmosphere, how frequently you’re invited to formal events [and whether it would be frowned upon to wear the same dress to several events], how casual your downtime attire tends to be [leggings and tanks versus twill dresses], and how often, if ever you dress up to go out. The don’t-wear-it-twice rule kills me – I don’t know a single person my age who has the disposable income [or frankly the desire] to buy a new dress for every single wedding, dance, party, and event, just to avoid being seen in the same one twice – but some people think it’s really important, and it bloats their wardrobes like crazy.

I have a post ready for tomorrow on how to combat wardrobe excess. Until then, I’m wondering: who has a huge wardrobe that’s full of beautiful functional things, all of which you use regularly? How do you deal with wardrobe excess? Any creative/resourceful solutions?

Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before I Moved to New York

amanda_lee — Sat, 19 Jun 2010 17:00:54 +0000

[source]

Nothing will go as planned, but this isn’t always a bad thing. Embrace the mistakes, the random, and the chance. It often results in amazing things.

Get it in writing. Don’t agree to anything verbally.

Work hard. You won’t survive if you don’t. Pull an all-nighter. Go to a networking event and allow yourself to be a little bit self-congratulatory. Send thank-you notes to your colleagues and interviewers. Knock on doors, because no one really does that anymore. Instead of talking about your novel, finish it.

Play hard. You’ll go insane if you don’t. Run screaming through the rain. Go to outdoor concerts. Dance your ass off. Make art. Write. Throw a party that will annoy your neighbors, then invite them over. Be fearless.

Don’t be afraid of people saying “no”. You’ll never get what you don’t ask for. This can be anything from a seat on the subway to a promotion at your job to a discount on your rent.

Money matters. Everything costs more than you think it will. Don’t count on spending money to have a good time, but if you go to free events, go early, because half of the five boroughs will have had the same idea as you. Your credit score matters too, but not as much as your money.

Apartments are tiny. Most domestic must-haves are unnecessary. This can include anything from your high school yearbooks [scan 'em!], your LP collection [convert to mp3 to save some space], your car [duh], and ninety percent of your clothing.

Fashion is important, but styles change so quickly and New Yorkers are on the ball about it, so it’s easy to look out of date. Spend money on well-made clothes that fit, not fleeting trends.

Also, take care of your feet. You might routinely walk six to eight miles in a day, and this is not easy to do with bursitis, sprained ankles, or blisters.Flats are your friend. So are foot massages.

Pay extra to live alone or with only your partner. There is enough craziness in New York to make you want to off yourself, but it’s worth a little bit more expense to make sure your apartment is a sanctuary of sanity. If you need to sublet with a stranger, make sure it’s short-term – one of my friends ended up in a crazy sublet situation where she wasn’t allowed out of her room when her roommate, whose name was on the lease, was at home. [She also had a pantry full of sketchy-looking substances, so who knows what she was up to. Bootlegging, maybe?]

When you’re choosing a place to live, you’re choosing a neighborhood as well as a home. Walk around, make sure you feel safe, find a decent grocery store, make friends with the owner of the terrifying wild dog on the corner so that he won’t attack you.

People will judge you by the neighborhood you live in. An old friend didn’t want to move in with me because he didn’t want to give up Park Slope for Bushwick. [He also spent a higher percentage of his post-tax income on rent than anyone I've ever met in any city in the world - not the easiest decision to understand, but he placed a really high value on living in a neighborhood that was attractive and safe, and adjusted his other spending accordingly. So kudos to him for that.]

Your train route can make your life easier, or it can ruin your life. I’m going to do my damndest not to live off the G or the F trains again.

Be kind to everyone, but be wary – people aren’t always trustworthy. Do I even need to remind you of the Hipster Grifter?

Alcohol is a powerful social lubricant that almost everyone here abuses at one point or another. Stop yourself before you do. I’m a huge proponent of good bourbon. But don’t let it be the only thing that takes away your social anxiety with new people or helps you feel like you fit in.

A lot of people do a lot of drugs. If you’re not into the drug scene, don’t feel bad or immature, but don’t be a condescending douche about it. It sucks, but it’s completely possible for someone to be an addict and still function as an adult human being.

There are a lot of miserable people up there. Avoid them. The most miserable are the ones who wear their New York residency like a badge of honor and feel that they have to live up to the stereotypes of rudeness and selfishness that pervade our ideas of New York. They are almost always compensating for being from out of town.

Which, by the way, isn’t something you should be ashamed of. The city was built on people from out of town. And that’s what makes it awesome. [I met more Cincinnatians in New York than I did in Cincinnati.]

Despite all the potential for obnoxiousness, you will find cool people there. If you blog, you will make friends. If you go to meetups or BarCamp or Jelly, you will make friends [and possibly also get work]. If you have Facebook friends or even friends of friends in the city, you will have drinks with them. Keep in touch with people.

Have a business card, even if it just has your cell phone number. In a smaller city this isn’t as necessary, because if there’s a total of four bars in the whole city, you’ll inevitably run into acquaintances at one of them. New York isn’t as kind; so be ready for it.

Some people are exceptionally kind. These are the people that make living in New York worth doing. I’m talking about the pet taxi driver that introduced me to his daughter and sent me a text message on the holidays. The friend of a friend that met me for a CSS concert and became my bestie. The elderly work colleague who hired me to come over and teach him how to use his MacBook [and later tried to set me up with his son]. The manager who, upon seeing me throw up at work because I couldn’t afford to go to the doctor, took me home to her mother, who was a nurse, and got me the medical care I needed. It was amazing.

What I Wore: Taste of Cincinnati and Midpoint Music Festival’s Fountain Square Indie Summer

amanda_lee — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 14:54:06 +0000

When I bought this dress, I never intended to wear it in the summertime. And then I joined the Minor Leagues, whose current stage uniform requirements are such that I had to, since I don’t have any little black dresses that were any more summer-appropriate than this one. And I spend both the afternoon of Taste of Cincinnati and the evening of Indie Summer sweating like a sausage. But it looked hot, at least. [Good thing, 'cause it was.]

Dress, vintage, purchased at Casablanca
Shoes, Charles David
Hat [in Taste photos only], vintage via Casablanca again
[Note: Special thanks to my good friend Connie Kenkel, who is our photographer-in-residence and president of the Minor Leagues' Parent Association.]

I like being more dressed up than my audience, a habit that hearkens back to my ballet days. Something else from my ballet days is that I like my feet to hurt more than my audience’s. Luckily, I haven’t pulled out my pointe shoes. These heels, however, put me at a weird angle to my keyboard, so I always end up leaning over like a hobbit when I wear them to play. During the Fountain Square show, I kicked them off for the last few songs of our set. Maybe I should sit on a stool like a singer-songwriter with a guitar.

Also during the Fountain Square show, the strap on this dress broke. Naturally, since I was sweating like a sausage, the dress stuck to me and I avoided flashing the entire audience. But I still felt precarious nonetheless. The dress is about twice as old as I am, so obviously repairs are in order. I think I’m going to make brand new straps from scratch – maybe out of some nice soft elastic to avoid potential future flashings.

This hat . . . I don’t really know how to wear it. It doesn’t have any pins or clips attached, so I end up just squeezing it onto my head and then trying to dance without moving my head. Graceful, I’m sure.

At Taste of Cincy, we shared the stage with a lot of bands that a lot of people love. We love ‘em too. The Metromix people were helpful and professional and ran a really smooth show backstage – nothing was late or disorganized, which is such a big help when you’re coordinating a band with seven members and approximately a ton of equipment. We weren’t allowed to swear onstage, though, which resulted in some awkward stage banter from Ben about how the Masons probably killed Mozart. [It was all over Twitter the next day.]

And at Fountain Square, we played with our good friends For Algernon [whose new album Oh My Starling is damn good], Wild Nothing [who were totally sweet and whose drummer is a former neighbor of mine in New York!], and Neon Indian [maybe you've heard of 'em? They're a major buzz band, everyone loved them, and it was a huge honor to play with such talented folks]. Puck, the event coordinator, is an amazing guy for putting us on such an awesome lineup.

Unrelated to this outfit: Would you like to see some sexy Minor Leagues video action? You know you would. That’s why you know you’re stoked to buy one of our new DVDs.

[Album art by the amazing Michael Bond, of Datawaslost Records.]

Sinister Smiles features full-length video for three tracks from our last album: “Good Boys,” “Lost in Ex-Lives,” and “Travel Agent.” It also features almost 40 minutes of exclusive live video from some of our most memorable shows. Highlights include: a record player exploding repeatedly; my bandmate Ben mistakenly telling over two hundred people how great I look in pajamas; a cute couple going on a tragic road trip where they meet at adorable deer [who I made myself!]; and footage of me clumsily trying to shoot a basketball while the rest of my bandmates [teammates?] get it on their first try. Things that happened during filming that didn’t make the cut: Hilly and me playing with Skip-Its; aforementioned cute couple making eyes at a billboard that features a drawing of a sexy lady; and close-ups of bandmate Luke’s skinny pants and skinny tie [which, for the record, were damn hot].

The DVD sells for $5 plus $2 shipping, which is less than some people have paid to see us live before. And you know what? If you order one by emailing me, I’ll write you a postcard and send you a cookie along with it. So getcha one.

Why Fashion Matters

amanda_lee — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 17:00:57 +0000

A version of this post originally appeared on my site in August 2008, but it bears repeating. So read it again, kids.

I’ve touched on this before in some of my Inspiration posts, but it’s something we can’t afford to forget. So let’s go over it again, shall we?

How you look matters, people. And since we’re not always at liberty to change our own height, weight, bone structure, skin condition, or disability, nor is any one of us going to completely change the mindset and habits of immediate judgment inherent in every human being on the planet, the fact that it matters isn’t going away anytime soon.

And because of all this,fashion matters, too. What you wear is the only capacity in which on a daily basis you make decisions that communicate who you are, what you value, and how you feel. Obviously, every decision you make communicates those things, but think about it—does anything change as frequently or vary as much as the things you choose to wear?

Think about it. Your fashion choices demonstrate how you want people to perceive you—are you hiptastic, or do you have other things to worry about? Do you take your professional ambitions seriously, or do you have any at all? Are you confident, meek, sexual, reserved, wealthy, poor, individualistic, or a trend-follower?

What’s more, what you wear demonstrates how you perceive yourself. Do you feel good about your body, or do you dress to hide your so-called problem areas?

Fashion is a key showcase of your consumption choices and thus, your values. Do you go crazy for trends, or do you look for pieces that can be worn over and over again ten years from now? Do you pick out disposable pieces, or do you buy for lasting quality? Are you a green shopper? How does child labor and third-world manufacturing affect your buying decisions? No matter what your values are, they’re evident in what you wear. When I see a girl wearing skinny stonewashed jeans, for instance, I can tell she places a high value on current trends. Someone wearing head-to-toe organic cotton clothing and TOMS shoes likely values the environment and economic charity at least as much as fashion-forwardness. New Yorkers (or tourists!) who wear sneakers instead of heels definitely value their own comfort over their trendiness.

Also, think about it this way: it’s impossible to dress in a way that communicates absolutely nothing about you. If you dress as though you don’t care, the people around you might not be able to see how interesting and unique you are—less able than, say, if you wore your favorite colors or styles every day. If you follow a uniform code to the very letter, you’re still communicating something about yourself—your affiliation with the organization whose uniform you’re wearing [and also perhaps your loyalty to it—that you value the organization you belong to more than you value your individual expression, or maybe just that you value your job enough to follow the rules and thus not be stripped of it]. Likewise, if you choose not to wear anything, you’re making a pretty specific statement about your values and your feelings about your own body! And if you go really grungy (read: you skip on teeth-brushing and shampoo once a week at most; you wait six months or so before doing your laundry; and every item of clothing you own is stained, stretched out, and torn), you’re being unabashedly honest about the fact that you don’t give a damn about what you look like [or what anyone thinks of it].

[Sidenote: I used to know someone like this. And I'm not entirely sure how he held a job or met anyone, because he looked a hot mess all the time. I'm not talking about wearing clothing that was out of style or unflattering…I'm talking about holey, smelly, unlaundered clothing paired with once-weekly showers, if he was feeling super-motivated. Ew.]

So don’t ever let anyone tell you that fashion is dumb. It’s not.

Sartorially Starting Over

amanda_lee — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 22:38:03 +0000

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to start your wardrobe completely over again? What would you buy first? What would you even start with? How would you make it work?

I’m about there, kids. In the past year, I’ve been tons more focused on getting my financial and professional life in order to pay much attention to the expansion of my closet. Now, with my financial goals looming closer and the weather getting warmer, I’m ready to think about buying some new summer clothes.

So where am I going to start?

I honestly have no idea.

Every bit of wardrobe advice I typically read has to do with buying pieces that go with your current wardrobe – textures, colors and shapes you already know will work with your lifestyle. So where do you start when you want a complete overhaul? What should I buy first?

Oh My Gawd – SHOES

amanda_lee — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 19:24:20 +0000

Earlier this week I celebrated something huge. Really, really huge. So I decided to treat myself.

These are the flats from J. Aldridge’s Sea of Shoes line for Urban Outfitters. I got ‘em on clearance! They’re still in the break-in phase, but I’m already planning to replace their shoelaces with elastic thread to make them easier to put on and take off.

I especially love how they’ve got an actual heel. I have a problem with walking all the way through my flats, scuffing the heels down to nothing [I don't drag my feet when I walk, I swear, it's just something about my posture or stride], so hopefully these will last quite a bit longer. Tonight I’m going to treat them with leather protector.

These Charles by Charles David heels were on sale at DSW- seventeen bucks, y’all. [I also found a bunch of others that I loved, but I'm exercising restraint and waiting to buy them for a month or so.]

They’ve got treads on the bottom, so I’m not going to be slipping around in them. Rejoice!

Super-comfy. I typically like wedges way better than pumps, but these are really supportive. Who’d've thought?! I’m pretty sure I need to plan a stage outfit around these colors. I have a lot of grey, but not very much of this dark cobalt blue.

I love my new shoes!

Business Professional: Oh HELL No.

amanda_lee — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 03:37:52 +0000

Yesterday’s post, when I reviewed it today, seemed incomplete and wishy-washy. So I’m making a stand. Here’s how I really feel about professional attire.

When we talk about fashion, or when we choose to engage in it, we’re choosing to wear something that shows other people something about us. When an organization requires a uniform, what it communicates [both to insiders and outsiders] is that it values uniformity [and as a result, interchangeability] over individuality. Put simply, the work you bring to the table is second only to your willingness to toe the uniform line and shape up—in some cases, to extreme and ridiculous extents. [Example: I have a friend whose former office forbade sandals. When she broke her toe and her cast wouldn't fit inside a shoe, she showed up with a sandal on the injured foot. She was sent home with a reprimand for violating company policy because, as the HR rep said, "I can't play favorites. If you can wear a sandal, that means everyone else should be able to as well." Ridiculous, hmm?]

Business professional dress is merely a watered-down version of the uniform – a uniform cloaked in an image of flexibility, but deceptively restrictive. The amount that it’s watered down, of course, depends on the workplace. Some offices forbid bright colors. Some forbid heels over two inches. Most frown upon unnatural hair colors or excessive cleavage on display. But only in rare cases does violating the dress code mean you actually can’t perform your necessary office functions. [For the sake of simplicity, let's leave out industrial jobs here. I definitely don't recommend wearing heels to work in a factory or at a construction site.] So it boils down to a question of etiquette.

…which is about making sure everyone knows the rules of behavior so everyone knows what’s expected of them, and what to expect from one another. But many of etiquette’s other rules have long gone. When was the last time any of you wrote a thank-you note? Not an email, but a physical note? How many women were wearing Little Black Dresses at the last wedding you were at? And when do you ever use the shrimp fork to pick up your scampi appetizer? Likewise, no one wears hats and gloves on public transit [unless it's freezing]. No one changes dresses between afternoon and evening. Most men don’t have a wardrobe of suits for each season. So why the entrenchment of a sartorial dictatorship within the office walls?

Professionalism encompasses a lot of things, and dressing the part is just one of them. But the rest—getting your work done, respecting your colleagues and your clients, creating solutions and not excuses—is the important part. I’m not Joan Holloway; I’m not paid to serve as office eye candy. And as such, I will continue to push the boundaries with bright colors, crinolines, bows and flounces, painted nails, and big hair…at least until this contract is up, and I can go back to working from home wearing whatever the hell I want.

What do you wear to work? Do you enjoy it? What would you wear, if you could choose anything?

Business Professional Dress: WTF?

amanda_lee — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 19:20:52 +0000

So, I’m working in an office now. It’s a contract gig, and I like it a lot. I like the fact that I’m getting paid decently to do what I do best—write, edit, design, and communicate. I like my colleagues. I like my office [not a cubicle! it has a door that closes! and a dual screen monitor set up! and my own thermostat, so I don't freeze!], the free lunches, the gym membership, and the freedom to listen to Pandora while I’m working.

However, I’m sorely lacking in the professional dress department. I have never, ever been one to toe the line on dressing exactly how people expect me to. I’m lucky to have casual Friday; otherwise, I might have to do two loads of laundry a week instead of one.

I can see the benefits of it, really. I enjoy wearing costumes on stage, and wearing a certain type of clothing for work activities should appeal to that part of me. I understand the emphasis on professional appearance so that clients will take you seriously. I can see how dressing in a certain way indicates your respect for your colleagues and your place of employment, and the ideals they stand for.

But to be honest, I don’t get it. I don’t work with clients. Most of the time I’m locked in my office on conference calls with developers or attorneys—calls in which they don’t see me or what I’m wearing. And I know it’s young and idealistic of me, but I wish it were the case that I’d been hired solely for my copywriting and design skills rather than for my adherence to a code of conduct and dress that’s not really my own…and I wish I had the client base to say that if a client didn’t approve of the way I dressed, I didn’t need to work with him. This isn’t Sterling Cooper, yes?

Do you all have any thoughts on professional attire? What do you wear to work? Or, what would you wear to work if you could wear anything you wanted?

8 Things you’ll Absolutely Hate About NYC

amanda_lee — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 16:32:05 +0000

It’s where everyone wants to be—the city with more mythical significance than probably anywhere else in the world. Sinatra wasn’t lying when he said that if you can make it here, you’ll make it anywhere. This place will try your patience, pillage your pocketbook, and may once in awhile leave you crying on a street corner. If you’re planning to make the move, here’s a list of eight things you might hate.

Everyone comes here. Well, okay…maybe not everyone, but a lot of people. I’ve heard it said over and over again that most people living in the city aren’t native New Yorkers, and I believe it. I don’t know the exact percentages, but last summer I saw an influx of post-college kids wandering the subway tunnels and peering out from behind MTA maps…and I’m already starting to see more of them this summer now that school is out and college grads from all over the country have completed their commencements, packed their moving trucks, and arrived here to make it big. Competing with the ginormous population that already lives here, this drives up the prices of almost everything. Which means…

…Rent is damn expensive. My first four months here, I paid more for a room in a three-bedroom in a sketchy part of Brooklyn than I had in my most expensive apartment I’d had before, a two-bedroom in Bloomington, Indiana. Furthermore, your apartment will probably be about the size of a postage stamp, and you’ll probably have more roommates than you ever thought could fit. A bathtub is considered a luxury. A washer/dryer in your unit, rare. And a dishwasher, almost unheard of. And because your rent will be your biggest bill and will probably eat up the majority of every paycheck. As a result…

…There’s a good chance you’ll be broke all the time. I had weeks when I had two hundred dollars to my name—but I had to pay my utility bill, buy a MetroCard, order dog food, and get my suit dry cleaned for a job interview. So in order to avoid the potential casualty of coming up in the red when the rent was due…

…You might have to work two or three jobs to get by for awhile. When I moved here, I worked retail, bartended, modeled for painters and sculptors, answered phones at a call center, and took night shifts proofreading at law offices to make ends meet. It was infuriating to hear from my friends back home in the midwest calling, their voices full of concern: “Wow, are you doing okay? Steve told me you were having to work three jobs…we’re really worried about you. Are you getting enough to eat?” Yes, I was…barely. I worked more than I every though I was capable of working, I didn’t sleep a lot, and I developed a caffeine addiction of massive proportions (the vestiges of which still accompany me today). But Starbucks wasn’t in my budget. It was infuriating, and even more so…

…You’ll be within a brief train ride of some of the world’s best food, drink, and entertainment, but you probably won’t have the money to afford it without putting yourself into credit card debt, nor the time to actually enjoy it. I had a really long stretch of the beans-and-rice diet, and there’s still a stack of ramen noodles in my cupboard left over from the time when I wasn’t even sure I could afford real groceries. The social ramifications of this lifestyle are clear…

…It means you might not meet anyone outside of work. This is the most crowded lonely place in the world, because so many people, despite being in close proximity to one another, are so wrapped up in their professions (or their finances) that they can’t meet up for drinks, or go to the flea market on Saturdays after brunch, or eat Thai food out six nights a week. They’re all too busy working. Some people get by this by tapping into contacts they already have–sorority sisters, fellow college alumni, high-school classmates, that kid who sat next to you in kindergarten that now lives down the street. But this leads to other problems, including…

…You might meet a lot of people who are a lot more financially endowed than you. Which can be depressing, especially in a city where there’s plenty of opportunity to throw money around—on trendy clothing, amazing food, and summer trips to Long Island (or further). Some people resort to spending on credit in order to keep up, which is never a good idea. And also…

…Geography itself can be limiting. When you’re not in the city, it’s tempting to think that public transit will be speedy and efficient, and that you’ll be able to get wherever you’re going in twenty minutes or less. However, when you live in BedStuy and you decide at eleven-thirty that you want to meet friends from Inwood in the Lower East Side, it’s probably going to be a solid hour before either of you arrives at Essex Street–because you have to wait for the G train and then transfer, and they have to ride over two hundred blocks in an A train that’s going local. You start thinking of these friends as your “long-distance friendships” and you rarely see them, except on long weekends and holidays (and then it takes even longer, because the trains are running on a holiday schedule).

But there’s a lot good about the city. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t. Tomorrow I’ll share with you some of my favorite things about this crazy place.