When I was in kindergarten, my mother would dress me Take turns getting dressed as if I were a little doll. I have vivid memories of running across a hill in a dress at that age. It’s floral, incredibly sultry, full of decoration and pomp. I hated it so I tucked the skirt partially into my bodysuit and it swelled around me like I was a galloping mushroom.
That moment determined how I would dress for the rest of my life: pants. Usually, I only wear skirts when society demands it: interviews, funerals or weddings, or religious holidays. I worked for several years in religious schools and camps where I had to adhere to a dress code for over-the-knee dress or skirts. I avoided wearing skirts at
My disgust became during this summer’s heat wave one question. (Don’t ask me about shorts: I don’t wear them unless I’m exercising.) The soaring temperatures kept me from wearing my traditional pants. A few years ago, I would endure the heat in a vest and a pair of black Wrangler Wranchers, which I would describe as “90% woven polyester, but feels more like indestructible Kevlar.” I wore them on a particularly hot day; when I arrived at our party I was sweating profusely.
I can’t stand these scorchers anymore. One day, while browsing Olivia Haroutounian’s Shop Real Life As Liv, I came across two slip dresses. One is green with lace trim, the other is a yellow cream silk version with patchwork embroidery on the chest. Each hit below the knee. Haroutounian imitated both of them, looking like they were picked from some Pre-Raphaelite paintings. I messaged her about them and within a week they were mine.
I can’t lie and say I put them on without hesitation. A few weeks before the dress arrived, I was trying to wear a vintage Missoni dress with a cute little cardigan I got from an antique store in Brooklyn. I think it looks great and I finally lifted my no-clothes policy. But I wear it all the time and I don’t understand why everyone is looking at me. Am I paranoid? Maybe I look really amazing…
Incomplete. When I got to the office, my colleague immediately noticed that she could see through my clothes. Mind you, I’m wearing a thong and no bra. I gave all of Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan a gig they didn’t ask for.
Finally one morning, the weather forecast says New York will arrive s, I decided to wear a green slip dress. good! I paired it with some frugal white Tom Ford-era Gucci kitten heels, and I was on my way. It’s certainly fun. My body is outlined, but the trick here is that it goes past the knee. I vaguely felt covered. It also helps that it’s not transparent.
Some people can rock a tiny strapless piece with a pair of vertiginous heels. Mazeltov! I applaud them and I really wish I could wear it too. But for me, something had to balance the fact that I was exposed. For me, that’s the length. This piece can be whatever I want, but I need to overlay. My solution was a slip dress that went above the knee. from there? My world is my chic, cozy, breathable oyster.