Posts from — April 2009
En route to work this morning on an orange line train (between Rosslyn & Court House stations towards Vienna) I spied a girl wearing a stunning honey-colored trench coat. It was so cute that I glanced up from my May edition of W to appraise her outfit.
The trench fit her perfectly and was nicely paired with black cigarette pants. I also noted her adorable black peep-toe flats. She stood to depart at the Court House station — and then I saw it. A large “X” shape located precisely at the bottom-center of the kick-pleat on the back of her trench. Gasp! She forgot to take out the basting (temporary) stitch!
To make matters worse, the tote bag on her shoulder was pulling the fabric forward so that the pleat was not falling correctly. Instead of a smooth inverted “V”, it was puckering on either side to form an unfortunate (and unflattering) “O” shape.
I couldn’t form the words quickly enough — I wanted to call out to her “The stitching!!! You forgot to remove the stitching!!!” — but the bells were chiming for the doors to close and she was gone. Just like that.
Ladies, please let this be a lesson. Inspect your new purchases and remove all tags and stitching before wearing. Take a quick glance in the mirror before heading out the door – both front and back views.
I feel that I’ve failed you, Trench Girl. You were thisclose to a fab outfit. If only you stayed on the train for just one more stop…
Kate knows proper trench etiquette.
April 23, 2009 No Comments
To the girl spotted in Georgetown Saturday afternoon, 4pm-ish, on 30th & M: Your boyfriend called. He wants his ripped boxers back. His stained fraternity t-shirt, too. Since temps were in the 70’s, why don’t you give him those boots with the fur you were sporting? You won’t need those until January, if ever again.
Pull it together, sister, spring is here.
What to wear…what to wear? It’s a tricky wardrobe transition to toss the winter bulk for the lightness of spring, but don’t give up in frustration and commit a triple faux pas.
I struggled myself Saturday morning, wanting to bare my legs in a black cotton sundress, yet being vain enough that I wasn’t quite ready to flaunt my pasty stems. So I added a pair of capri-length leggings, slipped into my comfy Tory Burch flip-flops, and was out the door.
I arrived on M Street, feeling instantly envious of all the girls in their breezy sundresses and tanned, bared legs. I wished I had ditched the leggings, but accepted my fashion misstep. I made a mental note to apply self-tanner at the next possible opportunity, and proceeded to enjoy the afternoon.
The moral of this musing? No matter how you slice it, life is too short for bad outfits.
April 20, 2009 No Comments