The other morning, while riffling through my closet for something to wear, it occurred to me that roughly half my clothes are just too pretty. In the last five to seven years, I have experienced a fundamental shift in style, and all the items I bought before the great schism are flattering and tasteful, but totally boring to me now. I have learned that I want more out of my clothes than simply to look nice.
I think my definition of what’s pretty has changed. When I was younger I liked a lot of details—embroidery, lace, beading. Now I am much more interested in noce fabrics, the way something drapes. I have a very si ole black silk crepe shift that I bought a couple of years ago that I think is the prettiest dress I have ever owned.
I think my definition of what’s pretty has changed. When I was younger I liked a lot of details—embroidery, lace, beading. Now I am much more interested in noce fabrics, the way something drapes. I have a very si ole black silk crepe shift that I bought a couple of years ago that I think is the prettiest dress I have ever owned.