Conversations with clothes

Listen up, Powder Blue Rabbit Fur Poncho:


Yeah, I'm talking to you. I WILL figure out how to wear you out of the house someday. I see you smirking at me in the closet, all "Ha ha, you don't have the balls to wear me!" Look, poncho, you pose a sartorial challenge, I admit. I have trouble with the poncho look in general. And then when you add the fact that you are controversially made of actual bunny fur...well, it's almost too much. I've tried putting you on over jeans and you look silly. I've tried putting you on over a dress and you look even sillier. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU BUT I AM DETERMINED TO FIGURE IT OUT IN CALENDAR YEAR 2010.

And as for you, Gold Lamè Backless Halter Top?


Seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do with you. I know you were worn by Christie Brinkley in an 80s cigarette commercial, but still. I can't do backless because of what I have going on frontwards. But you're so undeniably awesome, in a Studio 54 way, that I refuse to give up and sell you on eBay. You hear me, Gold Lamè Backless Halter Top? You're not going anywhere. I'm going to wear you, even if it's under a blazer and only I know you're under there.

Black Ostrich Feather Necklace. Sigh.


Look at you. Maybe if I were an octogenarian opera diva from Vienna, I could pull off wearing you. Or Joan Collins. But as a graduate student living in a studio in Allston, MA? You drive a hard bargain. I have found a temporary solution, though:


At least someone can get some use out of you.

Well, Rhinestone-Studded Yves Saint Laurent Black Pumps, I have at least worn you.


But I want to wear you MORE. I only wear you, like, once every two years. I need more occasions to wear you, more places where I can wear you without looking deranged. You are the gem of my shoe collection and virtually no one has seen you. Let's work together on this, can we?

All of the above items were given to me by one person: my eccentric aunt, a cookbook author and former high-powered ad exec. She gives me tons of amazing stuff, some of which is borderline unwearable, but I just can't part with any of it. And the story about the gold halter stop? Totally true. Only me and motherf%$*ing Christie Brinkley have worn that thing. She was stylishly taking a drag off a MAX cigarette (a now defunct Virginia Slim-esque brand) when she wore it. Maybe I should take up smoking.

This stuff is only the tip of the iceberg -- I have more crazy things in my closet that I will reveal on this blog in later posts (red alligator cowboy boots, a funereal black hat with netting from the 20s, a sequined bolero...). Lots of girls have costume jewelry, but how many have costume clothes? For a long time, I was her only niece and the sole recipient of all this craziness, but there is now another....and she has no idea what's in store for her. Lucky bitch.