"She Doesn't Wear Jeans"
Is it a Boris day, or a David day?
In rural Wisconsin around Thanksgiving, alone in the kitchen with my then-boyfriend’s mother while he was out shoveling snow, we strained to make small talk. “When he told me you were coming, I asked him what you’re like,” she said. “You know what he said? He said, ‘she doesn’t wear jeans.’” It’s true that I prefer to wear skirts and dresses, not out of any fidelity to femininity as such, but because I’ve never found the right jeans for my 5’3” stature and I’m too much of an urban pedestrian for heels. This is somewhat problematic because New York has real winters, I don’t own very many pairs of tights, and I hate to do my laundry. So what ends up happening is, in the cold months, I’ll wear the same pair of tights over and over until the feet are crusted solid with sweat and stink, and I can’t go to anyone’s apartment where I need to take my shoes off. The solution to this? Capri leggings, which are conveniently footless, and don’t make me look as ill-proportioned as full-length pants.
Faye––Kaitlin Phillips called her her “favorite bra salesperson in New York City”––works at Azaleas, which recently began stocking Gil Rodriguez. She modeled the Gil Rodriguez capri leggings for the website, pairing them with strappy wedges and a motorcycle parked outside the Russian & Turkish Baths on East 10th. The Russian & Turkish baths are owned and operated separately by two men named Boris and David. According to their website, “a Boris pass can only be used during Boris’s shift and a David pass can only be used during David’s shift.” If this is confusing, there’s a color-coded calendar.
Both Azaleas and the Gil Rodriguez website were sold out of the capris in size small, so I ordered a pair from Organic Basics, which I’m happy with, though Los Angeles Apparel presents an equally appealing and slightly less expensive option. Once I was on the hunt for capris, I started noticing them everywhere. Paloma Wool has a black-and-white polka dot pair (to take it back to my last post), Lucky Jewel has a denim pair, Aritzia has a tailored pair, Gigi LA has a pair with ruching and mesh ruffles. Gigi also has this black sequin top, unfortunately sold out in my size at Cafe Forgot, which reminds me of this amazing outfit I saw on Pinterest: black sequin tank top, buttercup yellow midi skirt with quilting, and a Dsquared2 trucker hat. It shouldn’t work, but mysteriously it does.
Two weeks ago, I was at the Manhattan Beacon’s with Zoey after getting post-birthday brunch (I’m an Aries) with my mom at Sarabeth’s. There, we found ourselves disagreeing about sequins. I am deeply pro-, she is anti-. Beacon’s was wedged between a visit to Purple Passion, where Zoey replaced her heavily scuffed pair of Pleaser Electra-3000Zs, an annual ritual for all four years I’ve known her, and Brandy Melville. “I don’t know if I can do the whole sexy twelve year old thing,” Zoey mused at Brandy, inciting peals of laughter from a fellow shopper. “Why does this place feel more perverted than the sex shop?”
The keywords and concepts constituting the dress code for my birthday were: Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, dream journal, techgnosis, heteropessimism, Disney Channel original movie, furloughed bureaucrat, surface tension, William Blake’s illuminated prints, Purim, and Leo Bersani’s 1987 essay “Is The Rectum A Grave?” (wrong answers only). I went for the Olsen twins and wore a black silk JW Anderson dress from Pilgrim and a black mongolian lamb fur vest from The RealReal.
For my birthday Zoey got me this DS & Durga candle. Also, I got bottles of sake from two friends who live together and did not discuss with one another what they would be gifting me. Also, a bouquet of pink roses, a ceramic alligator, and a book of poetry by Charles Simic. Also, from a man I am dating who is not my boyfriend, a bottle of perfume with the word “love” in the name. He wore a white polo shirt to my party––a fashion choice that baffled me, astonished me, really, I’m still thinking about it. He’s wonderful. I think I’m going to get the same flatware as him when I move to Missouri. I did not ask for anything outrageous, but if someone wanted to spend a lot of money on me, I would ask for this bag from sc103. I learned of this brand from a girl I met in a coffee shop, and have only seen one other in the wild, belonging to the curatorial assistant at my art job.
In terms of coveting the impractical, I’ve been obsessed with Colleen Allen. This velvet jacket reminds me of this incredible and less expensive 1981 Perry Ellis suit that Wayward is selling. More affordably, I am in the market for a pair of riding boots. I used to wear these exact Frye boots, but I ruined them. Debating about whether I should replace them, or go for something else. My desire was renewed when I saw, for the first time in the ten months I’ve been living in my apartment, a person exit the mysterious design studio/showroom around the corner, which sells ten thousand dollar lamps. The woman wore leather riding boots, a knee-length pleated grey skirt, and a cashmere sweater, also grey. Her blonde hair came down to her waist.
While I am now entirely off X––I have found that abstinence is the only thing that works for me––I often think of the post that’s like, “In awe of how my wife will arrive in a new city and immediately seek out local ointments, textiles, a bolt of fine cloth etc. It's like travelling with a merchant from 16th century Antwerp.” In the spirit of the Antwerp merchant wife, I just purchased an Italian tassel for the doorknob in my bedroom. Not entirely unrelatedly, I’ve been thinking of buying a flower pin from M&S Schmalberg, a family-run New York business in its fourth-generation which has been using the same technique since 1916; I’m partial to the gardenias and chrysanthemums. One of the readers at an event I recently attended was wearing an oversized fabric rosette, as was my chicest coworker. The big rosette is obviously a Carrie Bradshaw thing, and I remember thinking they looked absolutely ridiculous upon my first watch of SATC, but the more I see them around the more I like them. I find this 1920s-inspired crochet flower brooch (with tassels!!!) from Bode to be tasteful. The rosettes seem to be a variation on the theme of award ribbons, which combine the now entirely done-to-death bow thing with the concept of “participation trophy.” Last December, Clairo wore the Sandy Liang Pony Pin in red. It’s sold out, but you can still get an Accolade Barrette. Edward Cumming did this brooch.
