Man repeller malfunction

As I slid this awesome patchwork garment over my head, I thought, oooh, this will be a sure-fire man-repeller. I'm not likely to hear: "Oooh, baby, your quilty sack with that uni-suspender is makin' me hot!" Usually when I'm getting dressed I don't give a thought to what other people might think about what I'm wearing (unless I'm going to the financial district) but nothing screams unsexy more than a quilt, especially when it's held up by a uni-suspender to keep it from falling down around my ankles.

The first time I wore this oversized skirt, to Sheila's birthday party linkup HERE, I cinched in its hugeness with a belt. After that, I decided to make the skirt into a poncho, so I ripped out the existing dodgy zipper and sewed up the gap, intending to install a new full-length zipper in another spot. But then this happened: 

I couldn't turn this into a poncho without arm holes; that would be like, um, a straight-jacket. But really, arm holes, zippers, where does it all end!? Do I look like friggin' Julia Child with a sewing machine?! That's when I discovered that the skirt goes over my shoulders without a zipper at all and my uni-suspender could hold it up. And it looks even better lopsided and backwards. Hurrah! 

Glamour shot outdoors in the loading bay

As for my man-repeller supposition, people were drawn to my quilt like moths to moldering wool. 

The first woman to comment: "You look so elegant." No, she was serious and was sporting advanced style herself. I know, I know - elegant isn't the first word that springs to mind, especially with the vest, but I was seriously working my serene I-own-this-city 'tude. I replied: "Oh, thank you. It's a lovely day for a stroll, isn't it?"(!) True. What I was thinking was: "Hell, yeee-ah, baby. I'm gettin' my quilt on!"

Next, a woman shouted out her car window, "That's fantaaaastic!" She startled me. Then, three boisterous construction workers went silent and bowed their heads shy-like as I glided past. One of them spluttered, "That's a beautiful dress."(!) And so the morning progressed to my astonishment. 

Did I hear garbage trucks? I better hurry.

Details:

• thrifted vintage crimplene patchwork skirt upcycled into a sack
• ivory long-sleeved cotton top, retail
• uni-suspender, I made it in slacking fashion, couldn't be bothered with two straps
• DIY mantis pendant, plastic bug on a Liz Claiborne Christmas ornament
• thrifted D&G pony shoes
• thrifted faux fur vest
• colourful Harlequin socks, retail
• thrifted vintage sunglasses, gifted magic loupe, gifted vintage beads

Sadly, my thrifted D&G pony shoes are going bald in patches. What am I going to do?! I can't turn them into a poncho, can I...? Glue, did you say? Neigh. NEVER!

The sunny skies, my happy patchwork mood, tax back, the phase of the moon, peaky hair - who knows what it was that turned a mere sack into pot of gold, but for this wonderful morning I was Queen of Quilt. It was delightful. It was completely unexpected.

Has it ever happened to you? Do you ever walk like a queen? An elf? A cat? Do people notice? What's the impact?

And, May 10 is Mother's Day in North America, so I raise a glass to mothers. It's a hard job (and one I turned down flat, heh).

PS: Awesome Kezzie says that this reminds her of Colin Baker's Doctor Who coat. So I shall link this up with TARDIS Tuesday on My Closet Catalogue. Hee.

Would you wear swear words?

Do you remember this dress - I mean these dresses? I frankened two Desigual dresses (gifts from Ariane) into one maxi I call "Teacup" (here). I adore Desigual's colours and patterns so much I can live with their occasional sweet text, such as "Happy", despite my knee-jerk reaction, "Kiss my...." Which brings me to another topic - swearing on clothing: is that any worse than pushing a Stepford vibe? Think about it: how many men's shirts do you see with Happy?

For clothing that speaks my language check out Lyn Slater (Accidental Icon) as she appears in a Grey Magazine editorial shot by Ari Seth Cohen, which he posted on Advanced Style here. Maybe you've seen it already. Scroll down and look for the sequins. You'll know the one I mean. (And given that the piece costs US$1,050, I would amend the text to indicate things are comparatively worse.)

Turnip Head fills in for my own head.

Outfit details: 2-in-1 Desigual "Teacup" maxi, vintage mint-green bolero jacket, mantis DIY pendant (Liz Claiborne Christmas ornament with bug), whale airship pendant, magic loupe, black tights, geta-ish sandals. 

When I wore this out for the first time, I got these comments: Love your jacket, Great pattern, Love your pendant, Love your colour; even, Love your shoes. Upon reflection, one comment was conspicuously absence: Love your dress! Haha. I have an over-abundance of that sentiment myself not to feel the absence too keenly. I am still Happy (rassen frassen succotash).

click to enlarge

Teacup's fetching wide thigh architecture will ensure plenty of wear. Next time I'll try the dress with my fringed platform booties to avoid the plank-foot effect.

Journal sketch from January. I had just bought a lovely non-text pailette top.

Despite my bravado, I probably wouldn't publicly wear a garment with curse words or potty words on it, except for "pissed off," which is a ubiquitous term for angry; except, if I were gifted such a $1,050 Ashish sequin top, yeah, I would wear it (here too, but I think it looks best on women +50). It would be rude not to. But I wouldn't wear the statement on cotton - that would be tawdry (heh) - or even on a sequin baseball cap. However, I saw a man the other day with a "Go f*ck your selfie" cotton T-shirt and laughed. 

When I do wear text on a T-shirt, it's usually a DIY by me or a friend. But a corporation, a  big brand, churning out masses of happy garments with happy writing and happy logos from their Orwellian happy factories to make women happy?

You want me to be Happy? Show me a kitty. 

I don't get pissed off if I see a woman wearing happy text unless her eyes are glazed over, she's holding out a tray of freshly-baked cookies as she jerk-stop bridal walks down the sidewalk, has sparks coming out of her ears, and there's a happy man with crumbs on his face and a remote control behind her. Fecker.

What say you? Are you a happy-shirt or curse-word-shirt person? Should more men's shirts feature words like Happy, Beauty, Joy (Nausea, Gagging, Retching)? 

One jacket two ways, style science, and swirly hair

JACKET WORN FIRST WAY: 

I love this sideways business-ish look. The houndstooth coat was $5 from My Sister's Closet, wool/cashmere with silky white lining, made in Canada by Propaganda, great for the cool day. You can tell it was big bucks in a previous life. Thank you, donor. 

Other pieces: vintage tuxedo pants, lined, with cummerbund-style waistband, by Simon Chang, a well-known Canadian designer, $5 at MSC. They are too large but baggy was "in" for this '80s design so I'll leave them slip-slidey. Granny shoes, thrifted. Tool-box handbag from O who knows me so well. Magic loupe from O. Thrifted tux blouse, gifted vintage tie. 

I wore this jacket for the Gaze Line Experiments conducted at the Miz Bagg Labs of the Universe. The stunning results are detailed below.

The Gaze Line Equation

This figure and accompanying mathematical equation represent the culmination of exhaustive and rigorous scientific research funded by Miz Bagg on how the eye travels when one views garb on another person. In the final analysis, the greatest beneficiary of the gaze line is the bird. Miffed at the results, Miz Bagg made a ginormous feather hat.

Science rules all. Yes. If you would like to nominate me for the Nobel Prize, please do.

It turns out I was useless as a gaze-line experiment subject. The banks of hot beeping computer equipment and the metal helmet with lightning rod thingies and cables kept blowing up. I don't understand it. In this case, the gaze line got lodged in my jacket and the viewer passed out. Wasted lab time.

JACKET WORN SECOND WAY: with platform sandals and sweat socks. (Horror! Put that helmet back on her head!)

Look, same jacket worn another way the next day. It's with my thrifted silky pink and orange tunic/dress (pyjamas?) worn tucked into my thrifted Cartonnier flocked turquoise pants, thrifted platform Steve Madden sandals with retail Reebok ankle sweat socks, and vintage gold stretch belt. Magic loupe of course.

Yeah, I'm a punk. I needed to be - I had to traverse the banking district to get to a yummy food shop and you may know how that conservative vibe in the air pisses me right off. The two photos of this outfit are lifted from a video, quicker than photo-taking, although the results are grainy. Outdoors is still best. 

Okay, so what's up with the swirly hair? More to the point (heh), what's up with Canadian women over 40 and this peakish hairstyle? Ariane of Style Sud-Est, Sheila of Ephemera, and Shelley of Forest City Fashionista all have varying degrees of peaks. Sheila and Shelley's are brilliantly coloured hair statements, like the plumage of exotic birds.

Is it something in the air? In the water? As Canadians do we feel it our patriotic duty to point Due North? Whatever the reason, I like the chaotic/edgy/Vivienne Westwood/surly pixie vibe I get when I wear my hair styled in a peak. Plus, it's easy to blow-dry, and morning bed-head becomes an official "look," at least in my case.

I don't know the real name for this style except it seems to be the opposite of a mullet, perhaps a matlet, a Middle-Aged-Tween reverse mullet.

Are there any contagious hairstyles where you live? Are you immune? What's your effect on the gaze line?

One last gratuitous shot to show you the platforms on these suckers. Heh. 

Of course I shall be linking this up with Patti's next Visible Monday when it opens on her blog Not Dead Yet Style. That's a crowd that can wear anything like a schtar, no two ways about it (ba-da-bum). I know I'll see you there...!!?