Outfit post: Inspiration or copycat?

The other day I stood in front of closet, index finger tapping my forehead impatiently, and could not come up with something to wear. It was a stiflingly hot day and I longed for an outfit that was cool and comfortable. I also had some rather Picasso-like abstract tan lines around my shoulders I needed to conceal. I wasn't feeling especially confident about my body, and didn't want to reveal too much skin. Furthermore, my family and I were going out to dinner, and my clothes needed to be appropriate for public viewing. So I did what has become habitual when I'm struggling for style inspiration: I turned on my laptop, cruised a few blogs that I follow, and duplicated an outfit right down to the style of shoes and amount of jewelry.

Initially, I felt fantastic - stylish and attractive. Even - dare I say it? - hot. But as the day wore on I became increasingly uncomfortable. I couldn't keep my shirt tied at the waist like my favorite blogger did. I became self-conscious of the amount of jewelry I had piled on. My skirt felt too short, heels too high, and top itchy and tight. And, worst of all, I felt as if I had betrayed my own sense of personal style. As soon as I got home I ripped the entire outfit off, sat on the corner of my bed, and tried to figure out what went wrong. I had long admired the blogger whose outfit I had duplicated. We had similar senses of personal style and common pieces in our wardrobes. Her outfit photos showed a confident, stylish woman, one many would want to emulate just as I had. So why did I feel so uncomfortable and traitorous? And then a scary thought hit me. Was I a copycat?

So many of us turn to magazines, blogs, and even catalogs (wave to the whimsically layered J Crew outfits) for style advice and instruction. In the aftermath of my style fail, I was left wondering about the difference between being a copycat, and being inspired by a certain look. We all take inspiration from the things we see around us, but at what point does inspiration become copying?

The Free Dictionary defines a copycat as this:

cop·y·cat  

One that closely imitates or mimics another.

v.intr.

To act as an imitator or mimic.

v.tr.

To imitate closely; mimic.

adj.

Closely imitating or following another: a copycat version of a successful product; a copycat crime.

We are all living in what Lawrence Lessig calls "remix culture." It is a time when there is literally nothing new under the sun. You're very seldom going to get an opportunity to do something that does not build on some cultural, artistic, or technical precedent. Copying is what you're going to be accused of it you produce a design that differentiates only in small or superficial details from someone's work. I personally define copying as creating something absolutely identical to what already exists.

Here’s the problem with copying: Copying skips understanding. You have to be able to understand something in order to personally relate to it. When you copy it, you miss that. You simply recycle an idea which someone else generated, based on their own personal life experience. You have no real connection to it, and will always be removed. For this reason, the copy typically lacks depth and detail. It’s usually pretty close, but there’s something not right about it. Which explains why I felt so uncomfortable in my duplicated look.

Inspiration is when you see possibilities no one has seen before. Inspiration comes when we translate a certain concept into something unique and individual. Developing a style further through the use of different accessories, colors, material, and even proportions immediately makes it personal. When you're inspired by a certain design, look or object, your creativity rises. You have energy to put your own twist on it, and make it your own.

At this point in fashion, so little is truly new or original. In order to be unique, you need to exercise your creative muscles and test the boundaries. This might mean branching out from your usual style and trying new looks. While I forgive myself for being a copycat, that doesn't mean I am forbidden from being inspired by other bloggers.  I simply need to have the courage to blend their style with my own perspective, in order to create my own look.

How do you define the difference between inspiration and copycatting? How strong an influence do other fashion bloggers, magazines and catalogs have on your own style? Do you ever feel like a copycat? 

Vintage thrifted white shirt; vintage thrifted denim skirt; vintage thrifted petticoat; Old Navy espadrilles; eBay bracelet

This outfit made me so, so happy. It feels like me. And the petticoat made twirling a requirement.

Outfit Post: The tyranny of the "bikini body"

Memorial Day weekend, 1981: I am seven years old. My parents are hosting a barbecue and have invited my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and neighborhood friends. The air smells like roasting barbecue briquettes, daylilies, freshly cut grass and hot dogs.The rhythmic spurt-spurt-spurt of the sprinkler permeates the air. I am wearing an enticing two-piece yellow terry cloth bikini which ties around my neck, and my cousins and I shriek as we run through the needle-sharp spray of the sprinkler. My waist-long hair drips water down my back. I feel happy, unencumbered and free.

Flash forward to Memorial Day weekend, present day: I am 36 years old. My husband and three children chatter excitedly about going to the neighborhood pool. I have zero desire to go to the pool, because going to the pool means wearing my swimsuit in public. I stand in front of my dresser and try to calm myself down. I try on two-piece after two-piece, self-esteem plummeting in the process. Swimsuits lie tangled on the floor. My thighs seem to expand with each selection. My body takes up too much space. I am flabby and fat and all-together unacceptable. I feel like a failure.

Every summer, I go through the exact same ritual. I become obsessively focused on the notion of the perfect bikini body, an entity I am certain every woman possesses except for myself. The NY Times recently ran an article exploring the notion of the bikini body, examining the effect it has on fear-inspired marketing campaigns and as a symbol of physical perfection.

There's no way of figuring out when the phrase "bikini body" was first uttered or when its tyranny took hold. It's common knowledge that the two-piece as we know it was invented in 1946 by engineer Louis Réard who christened it after Bikini Atoll. The style became popular in the 50's and by the 80's was standard beachwear. As our culture increasingly enshrines physical perfection, the bikini has come to inspire dread and awe. It wasn’t always so. In the 1960s, when bellybutton-baring suits first became popular in America, “it was a youthful phenomenon definitely,” said Sarah Kennedy, the author of “The Swimsuit: A History of Twentieth-Century Fashions.” Then the high-fashion set and movie stars began to put on bikinis, and by the ’70s, she said, the bikini was “worn by all ages.”

And a few extra pounds didn’t disqualify anyone, considering the fitness revolution was still roughly a decade away. (The NY Times mentions that in the book there’s a 1940s photograph of a fresh-faced still-brunet Marilyn Monroe looking smashing in a two-piece, a roll of pale flesh at her midsection.)

Writes The Guardian's Laurie Penny:

When it finally became popular in the 1960s, the bikini was a symbol of physical liberation, of beautiful women reacting to the stern sexual prudery of previous decades by exposing as much skin to the sun as they pleased. Today, as with many iterations of the sexual emancipation rhetoric of the 1960s, wearing a bikini is no longer associated with pleasure and daring, but with anxiety, dieting rituals and joyless physical performance...The bikini body has become cultural shorthand for a moral standard of female perfection whereby any physical flaw should be regarded as a source of shame, an obstacle to collective fantasies of glamour and happiness.

When did  the bikini become the standard of all beauty? I'm going to theorize that the first Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, published in 1964, had a lot to do with it. With that publication, swimsuits became explicitly linked with the standards of female desirability. Also, the Swimsuit Issue is published in the winter and had little to do with the reality of actual women being at the beach, let alone swimming, and a lot to do with unattainable goals.

"Bikini body" is the going code for "acceptable." It is always in bikinis that the tabloids feature the "best" and "worst" bodies. Type "bikini body" into Google and you get the following suggested searches:

bikini body workout
bikini body diet
bikini body tips
bikini body fast
quick bikini body

The bikini body has nothing to do with overall health, or fitness, or lifestyle. No, it's about shedding "winter weight" fast, before some arbitrary deadline known as "Bikini Season," at which point we're forced to confront a two-piece suit with, naturally, the requisite "bikini wax," and no trace of cold-weather pastyness. Jezebel argues that the "bikini body" craze goes so much deeper than fatism or fatphobia. It is part of our society's relentless insistence that a woman's body is not her own. It is an object to be criticized.  Our society seems to think that a woman wears a bikini not for herself, but for the public to decide her worthiness.

Will the world end tomorrow if I can't cram my butt into a bikini? I was going to ask Stephen Hawking, but, after some careful mathematical calculations, I was able to come up with the answer on my own: No. Does this mean that I still don't have days where I hate my thighs and stomach so much I want to carve them off of my body with a fillet knife? No. But I understand that those days will happen and that they really don't matter because there truly is NOTHING wrong with my body. I've put it through a lot in the past 36 years and it's stuck around and carried me through everything.

So my motto is this: Just be healthy. Eat things that are nutritionally good for you and exercise, but don't forget about delicious, delicious baked goods and gelato from Pacuigo. Don't deprive yourself of things to satisfy the warped and nonsensical views of people that see you as another bottomless pocket and empty head. 

Do what you want, eat what you want, wear what you want, and be who you want.

Now I ask you: How you deal with the pressure of the "bikini body?" Does wearing a swimsuit in public make you break out in a sweat? Do you avoid going to the beach, pool or lake because of this fear? Does wearing a swimsuit cause you to dread summer activities? And do you have a favorite swimsuit that makes you feel great about yourself?

Thrifted Gap chambray shirt: thrifted vintage dress; Old Navy belt; White Mountain sandals; TIKKR watch; Charming Charlie bracelet; Forever 21 necklace

Outfit Post: Miranda Kerr wants you to know about her underwear

Allow me to share a cringe-inducing little tidbit from a recent People Magazine:

Miranda Kerr’s flawless post-baby body has everyone a little jealous. The Victoria’s Secret Angel, mom to son Flynn, 4 months, with husband Orlando Bloom, bounced right back after giving birth, even hitting the runway in a Paris fashion show.  The model mom says she’s most comfortable when she’s “just in knickers,” hanging around the house with Bloom and Flynn. “People have come to the house and I’m just in my knickers,” she reveals. “[But] I feel like it’s more appropriate to have knickers on than being completely naked.”

If pressed, I'll admit that I've engaged in a few innocent dalliances with US Weekly and People. I have read more than my fair share of exposes on the size and incubation of one's baby bump; the botched plastic surgery attempt of certain b-list celebrities; and pages and pages of baby daddy gossip. I've taken those insipid little tests regarding what my perfume says about my personality, which real housewife I would be in real life, and which celebrity hot spot I should visit during my next luxury vacation (hello, Phuket.) I've examined photos to determine which starlet wore those hideous peach jeans the best. Apparently, this is a thing right now. Peach-colored jeans WILL BE the next blogger red pants. Put your money on it. I've studied Candy Spelling's floorplan and wept white hot tears over the breakups of Courtney Cox and David Arquette/Christina Aguilera and Jordan Brattman/Renee Zellweger and Bradley Cooper. Actually, that last one I'm not so torn up about. Because it means Bradley is available, and I have a shot. Bradley, call me.

Anywhoo. I have been there, people. So I suppose that's why I wasn't so shocked by Miranda Kerr's "I'm so squeally suuuuppppeeeeerrrr comfy in my knickers, teehee" comment. For one thing, once your eyes have been photo-raped by Britney Spears' c-section scar (hello, panty-less crotch shot summer of 2006) you've seen it all. For the time being, let's ignore the snarky, insulting message that Miranda lost her baby weight faster than you did, you fat cow, can't you get your lazy ass off the couch? It's the prancing around the house in her undies that I'd like to focus on. Ms. Kerr is a Victoria's Secret supermodel. Either she's totes getting paid to gush about wearing her undies around the house, or she's a devoted fan of underwear in general. I have no doubt that Miranda spends hours lounging around her immaculately decorated ocean-front limestone mansion in nothing more than a pair of lacy boyshorts and a boned corset three sizes too small for her heaving bosom. She and Orlando probably spend hours having sex on top of the changing table and heating up bottles and preparing homemade baby food in less clothing than their entire baby's layette. I suppose her friends should be happy she wears clothes at all. Naked time for everyone! Weeee!

Personally, when I think of a comfortable choice in clothing to wear hanging around the house, I do not think of my underwear. Underwear is designed to stay under clothes - whether they be leggings and tee shirts or sweatshorts or whatever. I did not grow up in a naked house. My parents were firm believers in sheathing our naked bits in layers of clothing, preferably made from wool. And even now, as a fully grown adult, I don't prance around the house in my skivvies. I can only imagine the horror this behavior would cause - the assault of a splash of hot oil against my uncovered stomach while cooking dinner; the giggling of my children as I emptied the dishwasher; the outright staring of the UPS man when accepting a package; the snickers from friends while serving up cocktails in a push-up bra and satin tap pants. Nope, when I want to be comfortable around the house, I dress in ancient pairs of Old Navy sweats and college tees and maybe, if I'm feeling risque, a Gap body tank.

I'm truly curious to find out if you hang around the house in your underwear. Is this something you're comfortable with? Do you enjoy being naked at home? Why or why not? What do you throw on at the end of the day?

Vintage thrifted silk shirt; vintage Ann Taylor silk skirt; Old Navy belt; vintage thrifted Coach satchel; White Mountain clogs; thrifted (St. Vincent de Paul) Michael Korrs watch; Forever 21 rhinestone bracelet

Outfit Post: The labels we wear on the inside

This past Saturday night I went to see the Black Angels with Erin of Work With What You've Got. It was loud, and hot, and the audience was at capacity with bearded and ponytailed twenty-something hipsters in black concert tees, skinny jeans and Chucks. The venue smelled like beer and pot and cigarettes and a million other unidentifiable odors. I wore a fetching ensemble composed of a Forever 21 hot-pink leopard sports bra under a lace trapeze top, paired with a thrifted vintage black skirt and black leather platform sandals. With my tattoos and bright red hair, I thought I blended in pretty well, despite the fifteen year-age difference between me and the rest of the crowd. After five hours of talking and singing and yelling and dancing and people-watching, I eventually crawled home after one o'clock in the morning. All in all, it was a fantastic night.

However, on Sunday morning I was in serious pain. I couldn't hear out of my left ear. My throat was raw. My head ached something fierce. And my feet were sore from hours spent in those platforms (which I wore despite warnings from my husband that they'd make me a cripple before the night was over. Okay, husband, you were right. There, I said it.) I spent most of the day popping Advil and lying on the couch curled in a fetal position.

In the wake of my post-concert trauma, I started to question whether I should have attended the event in the first place. I wondered about the condition of the other concert-goers the next morning. Were they suffering from pounding headaches and sore throats? Did their feet hurt? And the came the inevitable questions: Was I too old to have been there? Did I look ridiculous? Were my days of late nights behind me? Did I belong at home, watching depressing sitcoms on CBS and clipping coupons for things like Sunsweet prunes?

While pondering these questions, I was reminded of a recent post on Psychology Today about the internal labels we carry. The author explored the life-long struggle many of us have to shake off the limits we think define us. Often these labels have been internalized for years, and the fight against them can feel like a never-ending challenge.

Reading this article led to some fairly deep introspection. I mentally flipped through ways I label myself.

"You're too old to stay up until all hours."
"You're too fat to wear those skinny jeans."
"You can't shop in that store."
"You're not talented enough to be a writer."
"You can't make a long road trip by yourself."
"You're not stylish/cool/youthful enough to wear that outfit."
"You're not fit enough to run a 10k."
"You shouldn't leave the house without make-up."

Labels have a way of sticking around. Often they've been adopted following a traumatic event or conversation with an important person in your life. My mother was a strict enforcer of rules, and I grew up believing that there were certain things I just couldn't do because they were inappropriate, unbecoming or unladylike. That included wearing certain types of clothes, staying out late, or even going places alone. Growing up with such strict limits also discouraged me from even trying to challenge them - why have hope when I'm just going to fail? The defeatist, pessimistic nature of labels keeps us confined and crippled by self-doubt and insecurity. Criticism from a boss, close friend, or teacher can also reinforce the ways we label ourselves. Sometimes it only takes the slightest reminder to trigger our biggest fears and doubts.

Thankfully, I'm determined to challenge the ways I label myself. Despite the fears that I was going to look redonk, I wore that neon leopard bra. I danced and sang at the top of my lungs and stayed out late. And I had a fantastic time. My morning after guilt is inevitable after challenging myself, but it's no excuse for me to continue to abide by labels.

Do you believe that you have internalized labels that limit yourself from being who you are? What are some ways you label yourself? Are there things you believe you just can't or shouldn't do? What do you do to challenge these labels?

Thrifted Target tuxedo jacket; Forever 21 lace tank; Forever 21 sports bra; thrifted vintage skirt; White Mountain sandals; thrifted vintage Coach satchel; TIKKR watch; Forever 21 rhinestone bracelets

Outfit Post: An exploration of the blogger over-apology

Like most bloggers, I am an obsessive reader of other blogs. I subscribe to nearly 100 through Google Reader, stalk others through Twitter, and catalog a different group on Bloglovin'. I love reading the thoughts of other bloggers, seeing outfit of the day pics, and getting shopping recommendations and beauty tips. I've even gone so far as to meet other bloggers in person, and made some friends I hope to keep for a long time.

However, ever since I started reading blogs, one pattern has become evident. It seems that for every blogger posting an outfit or thoughts regarding summer trends, there's another apologizing for not posting more, not having "better" photos, not wearing a blog-worthy outfit (what does that even mean?), not writing enough, not writing like 'X" blogger does, not participating in a challenge, or for some other reason they feel they are inadequate. I myself have been guilty of this. It makes me wonder - why do we feel the need to apologize?

If you're like many women, saying "I'm sorry" has become a habit, something you murmur before asking a stranger the time or telling the cashier they've given you the wrong change. Experts observe that women apologize more often than men and for a wider variety of reasons. The fear of conflict is a big reason why many women over-apologize. “Women are hard-wired to focus on cooperation and community, versus competition and confrontation, the way men are,” says Beverly Engel, author of The Power of Apology. And according to Dr. Susan Gaddis, of communicationsdoctor.com, "Women say, ‘I'm sorry’ much more than men because of our nurturing nature and our desire to make everyone happy.”

There's nothing wrong with apologizing in and of itself. Taking responsibility for our impact on others; acknowledging our own mistakes and shortcomings; and restoring connections and trust with those we've wronged (which is what authentic apologizing is all about) are essential qualities of mature relationships and living a fulfilled life.

However, the problem becomes when we start apologizing for who we are. When we're telling our readers that we're sorry for not posting more, or not dressing more blog-worthy, or not participating in a challenge, we're communicating that we're not good enough, and our blogs are not good enough. We're putting ourselves in a position to be judged. We're essentially saying, "I'm bad; it's my fault; don't hate me; don't leave me." I hypothesize that so many bloggers over-apologize because they're afraid of losing followers. In their eyes, losing a follower means they've failed. And who wants to be a failure?

There's nothing wrong with explaining to readers why you skipped a few days of blogging, or why you chose not to do a challenge, or why you're dressed more casually than you normally do. But unwarranted over-apologizing positions us as subservient and hurts us. It can make us feel indebted to our readers and less powerful over what and how often we post. In addition, over-apologizing to your readers immediately puts their happiness at a higher level than yours. It creates a divide: the needs of your readers are 'right', and your own needs are 'wrong.' This leads you to you to feel remorseful for your perceived "inadequacies." The quality of our life depends directly on the choices we make and how we act upon them. Part of the process of building healthy self-esteem comes from making your needs a priority and not being apologetic about them.

When I started blogging, I didn't do so to attract a million readers (though I am THRILLED that you all are here.) I don't blog to be competitive, and I don't blog out of a feeling of obligation. I blog because I want to. This blog is, ultimately, for me - a place to write about topics that interest me, share my thoughts with the world, be part of a community of people with similar ideas, and have fun. It's my space, and it's up to me to set the rules. If I want to post every day, I do. But if I miss a day, so be it. I recognize that my real-life activities and relationships are far more important, and there's no reason for me to apologize for it. None of us should feel we must say sorry to our readers for having a life outside our blogs. There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking a day, or week, or month off. And, in that vein, there's nothing wrong with not participating in a challenge, or not having regular features, or not constantly updating your layout. It's your blog - do what you want, when you want.  Ultimately, your blog exists to make you happy. And that's what matters the most.

And now I ask you: Have you ever felt a need to apologize to your readers? Do you believe bloggers over-apologize out of a fear of losing followers, or is there something deeper going on? Have you ever struggled with apologizing too much? Do you believe you owe your readers an apology when you miss a day of blogging, or aren't participating in a challenge?

Thrifted vintage silk blouse; thrifted Armani skirt; thrifted vintage Coach satchel; Target belt; MIA clogs; Dolly Python leather cuff; World Market Catholic saints bracelet; Forever 21 pendant

Outfit Post: The best mobile fashion, style, and shopping apps

One gloriously bright July morning, I emerged from my bedroom and took the usual zombie-like walk into my kitchen. Rubbing my eyes sleepily, I reached for the coffee pot and felt my fingers brunch against something unfamiliar. It was rectangular, and formidable, and oddly bulky. It wasn't until my eyes opened completely that I realized it was a box, and that I was the proud new owner of an iPhone.

See, it was the morning of my birthday, and my husband had finally listened to my demands for a new phone. The one I'd been using was...unfortunate. It had a cracked screen, squeaky flip cover and was covered in ancient layers of grime from my kids' sticky fingers. Texting on it was lesson in patience, fortitude, and dexterity. And texts from me looked something like this: "R U Th TXW THR THER ARGHHHHHH H8!!!!!!!! And so on.

From the start, iPhone both thrilled and terrified me, much in the way Karl Lagerfeld does to his celebrity muse du jour. It was my baby. The gods at Apple had entrusted it to my care, and I was going to do my best to learn it's quixotic and somewhat temperamental ways. Sometimes iPhone threw tantrums and randomly drained its own battery. On occasion, it butt-dialed small businesses. And iPhone's screen often went blank if tiled at a disagreeable angle. Oh, and there's also the fact that syncing to iTunes once resulted in the disappearance of EVERY SINGLE SONG I'D EVER PURCHASED. That was a very very bad day. But, eventually, we put our issues aside, and today our relationship is stronger than ever.

I've become quite attached to iPhone, and find it a necessary tool when trying to find a new thrift shop, do research on a blog post, or kill time waiting on a doctor's appointment. Sadly,  though, I'm not the most technically advanced person, and often feel I'm not utilizing the phone as fully as I could be. Aside from purchasing books through Amazon's app I rarely use it for shopping. I find it challenging to examine items on a small screen, and the pages are often slow to load. Perhaps most frustrating, the process of entering information on a mobile keyboard requires either surgical precision or very teeny tiny fingers.

The New York Times recently explored the unexpected challenges retailers are experiencing with generating customers through mobile devices. Retailers report that only about 2 percent of their sales are coming from smart phones, well below the expectations of many e-commerce analysts.The potential for added revenue from mobile sales remains huge, retailers believe. EBay said that in 2010 it generated almost $2 billion in mobile sales, and is on track to double that this year.

But major retailers like Coach, J Crew, Urban Outfitters and Loft still do not have sites designed specifically for mobile phones - known as optimized sites - and nor do they have apps. By mid-2010, according to the Acquity Group, just 12 percent of the top 500 United States online retailers had sites compatible with mobile browsers, while just 7 percent had apps. Many sites that are not optimized require page after page of confirmations about shipping methods or credit cards, even for an existing customer who has logged in. Entering a credit card and a billing address and all that sort of stuff is truly frustrating when using a mobile device. It's clunky, and time-consuming, and usually results in a customer abandoning their order.

Christian Louboutain once famously asked, "What is an app?" admitting, "I'm a very bad technician. Technology, zero." However, more designers and fashion retails are warming up to the idea of e-commerce, and several biggies have rolled out iPhone apps to show off collections and allow users to shop. After a bit of research I did uncover a number of mobile fashion and shopping apps for my iPhone that are streamlined and relatively easy to use. Sadly, android users continue to have limited options, but increased attention on mobile sales will hopefully lead to the creation of android fashion and shopping apps in the near future.

Here are some highly rated fashion, style and shopping apps:

• Chicfeed: This app pulls photos from the internet's most respected style blogs, including The Satorialist and Lookbook. If you're seeking quick eye-candy, there's no better way to see loads of style photos all in one spot. 

• Shopstyle Mobile: This site's spinoff app aggregates clothing and accessories from more than 100 e-commerce sites (Asos, Bluefly, and Neiman Marcus among them.) Explore indiscriminately, or search by keyword, brand, store, price, color, size and sale. If you find something you love, the app directs you to an online retailer. 

• Pinterest: Pinterest is a website that lets you 'pin' photos and images from the web to a virtual bulletin board, and has a rabid following with bloggers. It requires an invite to join, though you can put your name on the miles-long waiting list for an account. Debuting this morning, the Pinterest app allows users to pin images through their mobile phones, browse other user's pins, reply and 'like' your favorite pins, and pin with your iPhone camera. It's a handy way to create a virtual shopping list and track trends.

• iShoes: Explore more than 50,000 shoes in the Finder, or search by style and designer. The app indicates which pairs are on sale and connects you straight to retailers.The  iShoes app is free, and offers decent-sized close-ups of each item.

• Lucky at Your Service: Another free app, this one uses GPS, e-commerce and real-life staffers to locate editor-approved clothing, shoes, accessories and beauty products. Once you've found that amazing piece, the app directs you to the online retailer, and, in select cases, to a store within 50 miles that stocks it. Even better, the Lucky concierge team can call the store to place the item on hold for you. The concierge team sends you an email within an hour with details how you can pick up your new garment.

• Net-A-Porter (and Gilt Group): These genius apps for luxury clothing and accessories alert you every time their main sites are updated with new products.You can also create wish lists, purchase items, and read weekly fashion news.

• Sephora: This app puts everything you love about beauty products at your fingertips. You can browse products based on brand, new products, and online exclusives; look up specific shade names and formulations; watch expert tutorials; read product reviews; and get news on special online offers. You can also easily review past orders.

• eBay: The goliath of auction shopping, the eBay app allows you to seamlessly search for items and place bids. The app allows you to watch items, search by brand, price, and keyword, and links with Paypal to permit instant payment. It also provides personal recommendations of auctions based on recent purchases. 

 
Do you have any favorite shopping and fashion apps? Do you use your mobile device for shopping? Would increased availability of retail apps encourage you to use your phone for shopping?

Vintage thrifted silk top; Gap Outlet cargos; Target belt; H&M platform clogs; Forever 21 rhinestone pyramid bracelet; Charming Charlie pearl bracelets and gold bangles; Forever 21 rhinestone earrings; Loft coral ring; Betsey Johnson gold watch

Outfit Post: The right to say yes

The word no is fundamental to my eating disorder. No dessert for me. No, you don't need to worry about me, I'm fine. No, I can't possibly wear that pencil skirt, it'll make me look fat. No thanks, I'm not hungry. No, I'm okay. No, I'm busy tonight. It's a lot about avoidance, crippling negative body image,  and refusing to have needs. That extends beyond food. When in relapse, only the complete and total refusal to acknowledge my needs would make me feel in control. The idea was to need nothing - friends, love, clothes that exposed my body, support, food.

I went so long experiencing this numbness that I developed quite a few methods of deceiving myself that I was being authentic. I had no clue what I wanted, and the submission of my needs lead to an inability to recognize them at all. What I ended up doing was turning "me" into a slave to the eating disorder. I was nothing beyond it, and nothing without it. Ironically, I also became really, really good at faking a non-ED self to everyone around me. It's surprisingly easy to just go along with what everyone else wants to do. You simply stealthily observe, check body language and tone of voice, and easily conclude what someone wants before they even express it. This has the added bonus of making the other person feel happy, keeping the peace and thus ensuring your security in the relationship.

I'm coming to a point in my recovery where I find myself saying yes more than I ever have. It goes way beyond yes, I do want some ice cream tonight, or yes, I can wear that pencil skirt. It's about letting go of the embarassment I feel over having needs. Saying yes makes me feel vulnerable and weak. And shameful. I feel ashamed for asking for what I want, for having dreams, for saying out loud how I really feel. Saying yes makes me feel greedy and indulgent and selfish for wanting. Saying yes to food is hard enough - I've gotten to the point where I can accept that I have to eat, but saying I want to is an entirely different concept.

It's true that I often don't know what I want. I still find it challenging to recognize if I'm truly enjoying myself, or just putting on an act to make those around me happy. Take the following example: Last spring I accompanied my husband as he played golf. He'd wanted me to go with him for years, but I always put him off, imagining the experience as entertaining as watching paint dry. But I agreed, and sat in the cart reading a book while he shot his 18 holes. He was really, really happy to have me with him - he even said he played better than he ever had. But the whole time, I kept asking myself - am I happy? Am I having a good time? Is this fun? Even now, nearly a year later, I have no clue.

But I see this as progress. I'm questioning whether I'm being authentic or not. I'm refusing to keep my head in the sand. And I'm giving myself the permission to finally say yes.

Thrifted Tucker For Target blouse; vintage thrifted skirt ($.89!); Target belt; H&M sandals; Forever 21 pyramid bracelet; Forever 21 rhinestone earrings; Loft coral ring; Betsey Johnson watch

Outfit Post: Your mother will tell you those shoes look ridiculus

When you're trying to decide if you can really pull off his season's wide-leg jeans trend, or whether or not to invest in a pair of wood platform wedges, your best advocate might be close to home. A new study says women who want an honest opinion when they go shopping should bring their mothers. It seems women (at least, the 2,000 polled) consult their moms for honest shopping opinions.

I haven't lived in the same state as either of my parents in close to eight years. And, even if I did, I doubt I'd drag my mom out shopping with me. See, my mother is what some would call high-maintenance, and others would deem a pain in the ass. Critical and obsessive, a "quick" shopping excursion with my mother takes no less than three hours and requires the kind of fortitude usually reserved for mountaineers embarking on a climb of Everest. She also has the tactical skills of a stealth missile and can sniff out a sale better than anyone. A conservative dresser, my mother lives by traditional fashion rules, such as matching your belt to your shoes to your purse, and not wearing white after Labor Day. As far as she's concerned, wearing thrifted and vintage clothes is akin to rubbing your face in a bacteria-infested petri dish. Her hobbies include make-overs at the Estee Lauder counter, endless searches for the perfect pair of metallic leather sandals, not those platform ones dear, they'll make you look cheap, and sneaking into back rooms for first dibs on new merchandise.

Most importantly, though, one must come prepared to handle her unsolicited advice when shopping with her. Most of my outfits are met with the following response: They're either "inappropriate," "ridiculous," or "are you trying to embarrass me?" However, I'll admit that my mother's brutal honestly has saved me from making some unfortunate fashion choices. Such as those shortalls I desperately wanted back in 1991, which she strongly advised against.

According to the study, posted on Newslite.com, researchers explained that a third of women would rather shop with their mothers due to the belief that female friendships can be a minefield of jealousy, false compliments and complex mind games. It seems these fears of jealousy are true: One in 20 women admitted lying to a friend that they look great in something when they looked awful - because they didn't want them to look better than them.

By contrast, mothers tend to be honest (often brutally so) if they don't like something, and genuinely complimentary if they do. They completely lack a sense of competition regarding who dresses best. Mothers are also great at determining what flatters you - often you share the same body type, and your mother is best equipped to steer you towards clothes that compliment your shape. In addition, according to the study, shopping with mothers was found to be more focused and productive than an outing with friends, who often waste time gossiping and chatting.

Who do you turn to when you want brutally honest advice about a new purchase? Do you shop with your mom, or does it stress you out too much? Do you consult her before you make a big purchase, or do you have another friend who's your go-to for style advice? Do you agree that mom is more likely to provide an honest reaction to potential fashion purchases?

Vintage thrifted dress ($4) ; Old Navy belt; H&M sandals; vintage thrifted python clutch; Forever 21 pyramid bracelet; Forever 21 gold hoops; Betsey Johnson watch

Outfit Post: The 36 year-old prom queen

So it's May. For many, May triggers thoughts of the following: The bloom of flowers, emergence of leaves on the trees, and summer fashions appearing in stores. But ever since my delicate adolescent years, May has pinpointed my attention on one thing - prom.

I have absolutely wonderful memories of my prom. Much like the royal wedding, prom was about one thing, and one thing only - my dress. I fantasized about that damm dress for years and tormented my poor mother about dress specifications for approximately as long. I daydreamed about the material, the neckline, the poof of the skirt, the amount of sequins and/or beading OR the lack of sequins/beading, and the length. I doodled pictures of Fantasy Dress in the margins of my homework. I cut out pictures of dresses I liked from magazines and carefully pasted them into a scrapbook. I engaged in passionate discussions regarding Fantasy Dress with as much vigor as the Mideast peace talks. This was a big deal.

When the time to purchase Fantasy Dress arrived, I was READY. Or so I thought. I waltzed confidently into my local boutique, shoulders squared and head held high. And I took one look at the rows of dresses for sale and promptly regressed into a cowering quivering overwhelmed creature on the verge of a nervous breakdown. There were SO MANY colors, SO MANY styles, SO MANY fabric choices, and ZOMG I CAN'T DO THIS I AM GOING TO BE NEKKID AT PROM AAAARRRGGGGHHH.

*Deep breath.*

After hysterics and deep breathing into a paper bag and many many glasses of water, I settled on a glorious 1990's Betsey Johnson concoction formulated from dark green lace with a demure sweetheart neckline and flared hem. It was perfect. I adored that dress. I would have worn it to sleep if my mother hadn't vehemently expressed her disapproval.

A few years ago, Morgan Spurlock ate nothing but McDonald's for 30 days and made a movie about it. In March, two New Yorkers inspired by nostalgia and prom season embarked on a much less gross but equally ambitious quest - to wear their prom dresses every day for 30 days straight. Called Take Me To The Prom, the Tumblr's authors documented their experience in their prom gear and provide thoughts on all things prom related. In addition to showing off remixed prom dress looks, Mallory and Bianca share inspirations, tips and tricks, prom stories, and videos. Though their month-long prom party has come to an end, the site is still there as a prime resource for any prom-goer in need of some inspiration. Such as myself. In an obvious example of either brain damage/temporary insanity, I thrifted a vintage prom dress the other day. And I wore it to fetch take-out. For realsies.

Can you imagine having to wear your prom dress for a straight month? Would it be a fantasy for you, or pure torture? Would you revel in the chance for a do-over, or does the mere thought make you break out in high school-like fits of self-consciousness? And what did your prom dress look like? Discuss!

Forever 21 denim jacket; vintage thrifted J Crew denim shirt; vintage thrifted 1980's prom dress ($8!); Gap tights; NYLA booties

Fashion rules broken: Dressing appropriately, wearing double denim, dressing mono-chromatically. Rules are for fools.

Outfit Post: Shoulding all over myself

Over the past week, I've been having more difficulty deciding how to dress in the morning. I find myself standing in front of my closet, genuinely and thoroughly perplexed. Often I feel I truly have nothing to wear. I throw on outfit after outfit, my anxiety increasing with each article of clothing that I pull on. Rejected pieces puddle on the closet floor. With each passing minute I feel more and more pressure to find the "perfect"look, and more critical about my appearance and my body. Confusing this is the knowledge that I'm a fashion writer and style blogger...shouldn't I be able to dress myself without throwing a tantrum? Shouldn't this be simple, and fun, and my happy time? I've been photographing myself every day for nearly five months. Shouldn't I be over my body anxieties?

Between blogging, doing research, taking care of the house, staying in touch with friends, paying bills, running errands, planning meals, helping my kids with homework and shuffling them to school and taekwando,  I often feel like a circus juggler. I'm trying desperately not only to keep all the balls in the air, but also keep track of where each ball is. Despite the metaphorical nature of my juggling it is nonetheless stressful, and it's no wonder I feel overwhelmed.

The years of abuse from the anorexia combined with the unstoppable forces of aging have played no small role. My body simply won't let me push it that hard.  It loses concentration while doing research for a post.  It finds a way to zone out. And it throws out warning blips in the form of anxiety attacks. I think back to my college days, when I carried a full course-load while working two jobs and writing for my college newspaper. I lived on four hours of sleep and endless mugs of black coffee. Sure, I was miserable and depressed, but I can't help but feel jealous of the old Elissa who got so much done. And then I feel lazy in comparison.

When I find myself becoming overwhelmed and anxious, I believe the problem boils down to one word: Should. I seem to have internal rules about "appropriate" ways to feel, behave and dress. I should be working on my next blog post. I shouldn't have trouble with body anxiety. I shouldn't wear that short skirt. I should tie my belt exactly like my favorite bloggers. The problem is that the word should implies judgment. It communicates that what I'm doing is inherently incorrect, and that there are absolute rights and wrongs. Thinking within the parameters of the should's create some very narrow minded black and white thinking. It's no shock I feel so out of balance.

So the next time I stand in front of my closet, wondering what to wear and only seeing the shouldn't, I'm going to challenge myself to dress as I want, and feel what I feel. If dressing gets too complicated, I'll give myself permission to throw on jeans and call it a day. If I'm having anxiety about my body, I'll check in with my husband and ask for his support. And if blogging seems to be too much, I'll take a break.

Have you had mornings where you felt you had nothing to wear (despite a full closet?) Why do you think this happens? Do you struggle with managing the should's? Can you explain how you deal with this? 

Thrifted vintage Oscar de La Renta silk blouse; thrifted vintage skirt; J Crew ballet flats (eBay); Marc Jacobs bag (consignment store); Forever 21 rhinestone bracelet; TIKKR watch

Outfit Post: Cocktails in stores - yay or nay?

I have a little Wednesday night ritual. I change out of my clothes into an ancient pair of Anthropologie pajama pants and a Michael Stars tank, pour a double shot of Makers Mark whiskey, and cocoon into a fluffy throw blanket on the couch. Then I turn on the teevee, turn off the lights, and watch Modern Family, Cougar Town and In The Middle while cackling with delight. Then I'll flick to TBS and catch my super secret husband Timothy Olyphant on Justified.  Occasionally, when these shows are repeats, I bring my shot of whiskey over to my laptop and engage in a little online window shopping. By ten p.m I feel relaxed, slightly sedated, and ready for a good night's sleep.

I was never much of a drinker. In high school and college I avoided alcohol like the plague, and waited until my twenty-first birthday to have my first drink (yes, really.) I was exceedingly proud of my ability to abstain at parties while my friends got inebriated. I suppose I was afraid of losing control. And throwing up. But now that I'm older, and more mature, I enjoy a shot of whiskey every now and then. And there's something to be said for the simple pleasure of sipping on a beer while sitting on a restaurant patio during a warm spring night.

Last week, the NY Times ran an article about a new trend developing in New York City stores. A collection of independent men's boutiques have started serving alcohol to shoppers, often tying in the type of drink served to the apparel being sold. Traditional men's lifestyle brands have long offered customers a glass of scotch while being fitted for a suit, a rite of passage for men stepping up into the business world. “It feels like a social experience, very James Bond or 1960s Playboy, but I guess it’s also kind of like Vegas — the more you drink you more you spend,” said Joey Rubenstein, an Internet entrepreneur, as he waited for the clerk to bring out his Hugo Boss sport coat. 

In hip New York City neighborhoods, several men’s wear stores are now lubricating the shopping experience with everything from microbrews to specially made cocktails. While few stores advertise the perk, some shoppers are now stopping in to stores for a drink before continuing on with evening activities, with shopping as an afterthought. And often, the store employees drink with the customers. “We’re not trying to get them drunk, we’ll have one with them,” said Karim Manuel Fresno, general manager at Groupe Seize sur Vingt. “We’re not just selling the clothes, we’re selling the experience. We promote the lifestyle.” 

Reading this article got me thinking about how my shopping experience would change if I was offered a drink while browsing the racks. There's no doubt that sipping on a cocktail puts customers at ease. At high-end stores that cater to women, customers have long been served champagne to reinforce the note of luxury which high-end merchandise symbolizes. Being served a drink encourages customers to remain in the store for an extended period of time, increasing the likelihood that they'd make a purchase. I can certainly see how shopping while tipsy would lead to more money spent, and possible buyer's remorse when the buzz wears off. And bonding with a store employee over a cocktail might encourage a more intimate shopping experience. 

How do you feel about being served while shopping? Would in-store cocktails encourage you to visit, and make a purchase, at a store? Have you ever sipped on a drink while browsing? Or do you believe this trend is going a bit too far? 

Market Publique vintage blazer; Anthropologie ruffled top; Gap cami; Citizens of Humanity jeans; vintage Coach satchel; Mia clogs;  Forever 21 bracelet; Forever 21 rhinestone earrings

Thrifting 101, Part 13: Storing thrifted and vintage items

When I was living in New York City, one of my favorite things to do was stop by the Metropolitan Museum of Art and visit the vintage clothing collections. There was nothing I loved more than viewing a garment made decades ago. Victorian bustled skirts paired with high-necks and puffed sleeve jackets made me swoon. Twenties drop-waist silk dresses seemed to roar with the sound of big band jazz. Each garment transported me back to a time when textiles were hand-crafted, cherished and treated as heirlooms.

This week I made an excursion to visit Woodland Farms Vintage, a vintage shop located here in Dallas. From Civil War-era stockings to 1930's  dresses made from handcrafted Battenburg lace, each piece in the shop was more incredible than the last. I couldn't help but recall my Met visits as I examined tiny hand stitching on white linen nightgowns from the Victorian era. I gasped over the collection of sumptuous vintage furs. And I nearly passed out from the display of vintage hats.

Between perusing the racks of 1950's silk day dresses and alligator purses, Janet, the owner of the shop (and mother to Ken of Vintage Martini, who's sponsoring tomorrow's giveaway!) shared some tips regarding storing and caring for vintage clothes. With nearly 40 years of experience curating one-of-a-kind garments spanning over a hundred years, Janet is an expert in all things vintage. I learned so much about caring for my own thrifted and vintage pieces.

(Missed any previous posts in my Thrifting 101 series? Up to this point, Thrifting 101 has focused on tips for newbies and those dealing with the squick factor, advice regarding how to shop at a thrift store, thrifting for the clothing snob, recommendations for finding the best thrift and consignment stores, tips for determining what days are the best for thrifting, a post where I explained my love for thrifting, advice regarding thrift store etiquette, tips for cleaning vintage leather, a post of my favorite thrifting and vintage blogs, and tips for identifying and cleaning thrifted jewelry.)

Storage and Care

The greatest danger to all clothing and accessories is light, both artificial and ultraviolet (daylight.) Over time, light causes fading in the colors of the fibers and eventually damages the fibers themselves. Other enemies of textiles are dirt, dampness, insects, and excessive heat. Before storing, make sure that clothing is as clean as possible. If the garments have a musty smell, air them outdoors away from direct sunlight. To remove dust, gently vacuum the garment on low speed through a pair of pantyhose, holding the vacuum attachment  above the textile.

For long-term storage, find a space that is dry and dark with a cool, even temperature. The air should be clean with good circulation. This usually means an interior room in the living area of your home, such as a closet, rather than the basement or attic.

• Hats, shoes and handbags can be stored on a top shelf of a closet.  If the garment is sturdy at the shoulder area, it can be stored on a padded hanger.

• Dresses with sheer or lacy fabrics; heavily embroidered or beaded dresses; dresses with bias-cut sections or with trains; and heavy skirts should be stored horizontally in storage boxes such as these, available at The Container Store, and lined in unbleached cotton muslin or acid-free tissue paper. You can also use archival quality storage boxes (products that are permanent, durable, and/or chemically stable) for extra security, but it isn't a necessary expense. Smaller, lighter items such a cashmere cardigans, scarves, gloves and lace skirts may be stored, unfolded, on top of each other. Take care that the total weight on the bottom layer in the box is not excessive. Keep on hand plenty of acid-free tissue paper for packing between layers. Tissue can be ordered in bulk from eBay. Multiple layers of tissue sandwiched between garments can do wonders protecting against deterioration.

Janet's labeled storage boxes of feathered textiles, beaded dresses, lace skirts and silk scarves.

• Fragile tulle skirts and dresses should be hung inside out and folded at the waist on pant hangers. This will protect the tulle from accidentally being torn by another garment or from a hanger. This tip is good advice for all tulle garments, whether vintage or not.

• While it's tempting to display vintage hats on a wall or rack, it's smarter to store them in a closet or hatbox stuffed with acid-free tissue paper. Hats are especially susceptible to fading from sunlight, and are often made from delicate fabrics such as organza, silk and feathers. Extra effort taken towards caring for vintage hats will go a long way towards protecting them from deterioration. Removable hat feathers can be stored flat in archival boxes.

• Vintage dresses should be hung in fabric garment bags. Never store vintage clothing in plastic bags. Natural fabrics expand and contract depending on temperature, and plastic bags trap air and prevent garments from breathing.

• Storing vintage handbags is simple: Stuff acid-free tissue paper inside the bag, place the bag in its original dust bag or into a cotton pillow case, then store the bag in a cool, dry location away from direct sunlight.

• Vintage furs require extra care. Have your furs cleaned yearly by a furrier, not a dry cleaner. Fur coats should also receive a conditioning and glaze to keep the fur shiny and soft. Never store fur in a plastic bag, never comb or brush fur, and avoid hanging it in a bright place. 

Cleaned, conditioned, and glazed vintage furs.

Have any tips regarding storing and caring for vintage and thrifted items? Have these tips helped you reconsider how you store your vintage items? Leave a comment and let us know!

Outfit Post: Haters Gonna Hate - Dealing with negative comments

Yesterday was a lovely day. I hopped out of bed bright and early, caught an ex-boyfriend on Fox News, interviewed a vintage shop owner (where I scored a dreamy pair of 1960's cat-eye glasses) and had a spontaneous lunch with the husband at a fantastic restaurant I'd never been to. The weather was perfect, there was no traffic on the roads, and to top it off, I was having an exceptionally good hair day.

And then I arrived home to a hurtful comment on my blog.

I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. I am well aware that exposing myself on a public forum makes me vulnerable to personal attacks. As a avid blog reader, I've heard the stories regarding hostile and nasty comments and knew I would eventually be at the receiving end. If you blog, the crazies will come. No matter how well-researched your posts are, how stylish your outfit is, and how witty you try to be, they'll be someone who believes they have a right to judge you or is looking to attack. But that rationale doesn't make it hurt any less. The comment in question was about my body, and it really stung, especially since I'm in recovery from anorexia.

After moping, pouting, and generally acting like a big baby, I picked myself off the floor and spent the night thinking about the best approach towards handling negative comments. As my blog grows, I am certain there will be more hostility as a result. It's unfortunate, and sad, but ultimately I am responsible for how I choose to react towards it. I believe that the way I respond to negative comments defines the person that I am. So here's my best advice for facing criticism and handling negative comments:

Resist the urge to respond immediately: After reading the comment I felt hurt, confused, and defensive. Was the commenter right? Who were they to criticize how I chose to dress, and my personal appearance? My fingers felt itchy with the urge to pound out a snarky response. Instead I took a deep breath, closed my laptop, and put on some music to distract myself. Responding, especially while in the throes of emotion, would only make things worse and potentially cause me to behave in a way I'd regret.

Put yourself in their shoes: Giving the benefit of the doubt to a negative commenter can be extremely difficult. But it might help you gain some perspective. Perhaps the poster is going through a break-up, has suffered a loss or is struggling with financial difficulties. Their rude behavior is much more about their personal issues than it is about you. A good rule of thumb is that nasty or negative comments are never about you or what you’ve written. They are always about the person who wrote them. Even if people disagree with what you’ve said, most of them can do it in a sane & respectful fashion. Those who can't are obviously struggling with issues deeper than what you've written or how you look.

Refrain from confrontation: Defending yourself in these matters can be tricky business. You don’t want to present yourself in a bad light with your readers, and stooping to someone else’s level rarely gets you anywhere. When I first read the comment I felt as if I had to defend myself, and was hungry to have the last word. However, doing so would likely have resulted in more inflammatory comments and emails. Engaging in these actions would have been nothing more than a waste of time and energy, and only distract me from the positive things I'm trying to do with my blog.

Delete, delete, delete: Seeing as the comment provided no constructive criticism or positive benefit, I chose to delete it. Rendering it into digital oblivion felt really good. Some bloggers might have approved the comment as a way of garnering support from followers. Others might have taken the opportunity to privately respond to the poster. Personally, I don't believe initiating a potentially tricky line of communication is worth it. Depending on your blogging software, you might be able to block the poster from ever commenting again.

Live and learn:  Receiving negative or rude comments is a part of blogging. There will always be some troublemakers who have nothing better to do than start - and fan - the flames. Develop a thick skin, don’t stoop to their level, and conduct yourself in a professional, respectful tone.

What has your experience been with receiving negative comments? How did you chose to respond? Do you have any other advice for handling negative comments?

Forever 21 linen shirt; TJ Maxx white tee; AG Adriano Goldschmied boyfriend jeans; Gap sandals; thrifted vintage clutch; Gap Outlet belt; Urban Outfitters necklace; eBay bracelets