On A Tear: From Silas Lapham to Rent the Runway

Am happily reading The Rise of Silas Lapham by William Dean Howells, the center of which is a fancy dinner party to which the wealthy but socially ignorant Lapham and his family have been invited.

He does not know what to wear, having eschewed owning a dinner jacket “on a matter of principle” and fretting about whether or not he should buy a pair of gloves. (He does, and his hands look like “canvassed hams” when wearing them.)

His daughter and wife, however, can purchase an “imported” dress, which meant European, hence, “klassy,” without carrying the “third-world sweatshop” connotations that “imported” does today.

This novel started me thinking about clothing anxiety before a big event, and the NYT has reported on one possible solution: Rent the Runway, a company that rents designer dresses (not haute couture, as erroneously noted in the Times’ headline) for $50-200 per four days.

I’ve applied to become a member, to check out the actual dresses, because one can’t window shop, apparently.

But here’s a semantic question: What meaning would you prefer from this declaration:

I’ve rent my dress!

1. (I’ve ripped my dress!)

2. (I’ve paid money to borrow this dress, which I’ll return!)

In response to the first interpretation, with a needle and thread, one could have an—ahem—rent-stabilized dress.

Piece of Cake

Nov. 9, my two-year blogging anniversary, has arrived and caught me by surprise!

Gentle readers, please help yourselves to a piece of virtual cake (from my favorite joint for gaily decorated cakes, the Cupcake Café in NYC [I like the one on 9th Ave]).

And thank you for visiting and for visiting and commenting over these last two years. It’s been delightful to make your acquaintance, and to read a choice bon mot or two from you.

Indeed, without you, this address would be a cake sans frosting. And frosting is certainly my favorite part of any dessert.

J Crew Pays Homage to Alabama Chanin?

It’s taken the fashion world a while to follow suit, but the homespun styling of Natalie Chanin (designer of Project Alabama, then of Alabama Chanin; see right) seems to have firmly buried its knot in the oft-described-as-preppy fabrics of J Crew.

Appreciated for her reverse appliqué, her ragged hems, her reliance on the tradition needlework of local women, Natalie Chanin makes clothes that look both lovingly homemade and irresistibly chic. She’s up for one of Vogue magazine’s design awards; indeed, this is her second nomination.

So strong is her distinctive look that it has, I believe, infiltrated the twill, the repp stripes, the twin sets of J Crew. In fact, I, who rarely am tempted by anything beyond the basics (shorts, cardis, pencil skirts) chez J, have been happily ordering tiered tops (one tailored and silk, the other a raggedy-chic Alabama homage [see below]):

I wore this top yesterday (in blossom pink; see below) with a soft gray v-neck cardigan, held together by my grandmother’s large vintage cameo pin. I’d been wondering how to wear this pin, for I don’t like fussy or formal in my look (my personality, however, incorporates both).

Two other possible Alabama homages are this appliquéd t-shirt, which I do not own:

And this beaded t-shirt, which I have in blue:

They both combine sophisticated but primitive needlework with a keen eye and “eye” like what I see.

Maybe it’s time to change the company name—temporarily at least—from J Crew to J Craft?

Hair of (my) Season

This is my pick for the hair of the season, as worn by the lovely Karlie Kloss.

It has a shorter fringe than looks from earlier years, and terrific layering that begins just at the chin. I like how swingy this hair is, as well as how one can actually see from beneath the fringe (yes; I’ve had side-swept fringe and it drove me crazy).

I’m especially bemused that I’ve fallen for this look just two short months after I instructed my stylist to chop some six inches off my own locks. But that’s OK; it’s almost inevitable that one yearns for long when short, and vice versa.

Military Jacket

It must be all those Saturdays at boarding school spent in full Highland Dress, for I truly do fall for military-inspired jackets every time.

Take this one from Anthropologie: it’s probably a bulky mess, what with all that fluffy, thick velvet and lining, but I’d happily don it with jeans and boots for a stomp across the meadow a la Mr. Darcy. (And I don’t even wear jeans, I just remembered.)

Costume-y, perhaps. But I don’t mind a good dress-up stoked by my favorite A&E Austen interpretation.

Claus Porto: A Soap for All Seasons

Yes, gentle readers, there is a Claus for grown-ups.

While it’s far too early to be in the Christmas spirit, I can’t help but begin musing on my gift from last year—a luxurious box of six Claus Porto soaps—because the last lovely soap has just left its wrapper.

I’ve noticed that Garnet Hill is offering a very pretty assortment of Claus Porto soaps this year—in stunning paper wrappers that aren’t in my current collection.

Claus Porto is also unveiling a new soap—the Madrigal—whose wrappings are as sumptuous as the earlier ones.

If you haven’t tried one of these soaps, they’re a feast for the eye, the skin, and the nose (those fragrances!). I’m plotting a purchase as I write this!

The Sartorialist and "The Driver"

I'm annoyingly late to this discussion, so I won't add anything (in this venue, anyway) except to say that the Sartorialist has put one, if not two, of his shoes in his mouth.

For some smart commentary on the topic, please visit Threadbared, upon whose blog I would comment, were there only a comments section!