Imogene + Willie

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It's a rare thing to find a pair of jeans you could happily live in. They're somewhat mythical really, so many things to factor in, the give of the denim, the placement of the pockets. I once saw a woman go through dozens of pairs of jeans (I can't recall the blog, found it through Pinterest) showing the difference they make to how her figure looked. It looked like a different person each time. There are so many choices of denim for women. Sometimes I think too many, it's really overwhelming and confusing, and above all exhausting. 

I had seen some blogger and friends on Instagram wearing denim by Imogene and Willie, and as luck would have it, a few months ago they branched out from their flagship store in Nashville and opened a shop right here in Portland. So this week, I sold some of my vintage wardrobe and went over there hoping for the best. 

I was greeted by Bob, who was so helpful, and made sure the fit was just right in the multiple pairs I tried. He explained how everything should fit before bringing other pairs to try on, and how they would wear after breaking in. 

Once I got the right size, it was like this "oh, this is how a great pair of jeans looks" moment, and I knew I could live in these year round without question, and they even come in gray and black! So those will obviously make their way into my wardrobe at some point. Because it would just be ridiculous to not buy the perfect jeans in every color. 
Elizabeth Stretch Jeans-Imogene + Willie 

Shirt-T.J. Maxx 

Eliza Boots-Walk Over 

Hat-Stole it from my mother

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Confessions of a former vintage addict {pt. 2.5}

I don't quite know where to begin. Let's start with this. A few years ago, in an enchantment of vintage fashion and culture, I would have said much of the same thing many of you said in my last post. Vintage for many (myself included) began as a fun thing, and turned into escapism. For me it wasn't about anything personal, but more a rebellion against society. I didn't realize it at the time, but there were things going on around me that were wrong, and rather than look at the world openly and deal with the good and the bad, I delved deeper into the specifically era based life I'd created. 

I don't feel a part of vintage culture anymore. I still have friends who love it just as much as I used to, but I don't consider myself to be involved in the intricacies and overall groupings. Therefor I feel I can view it objectively and critically without remorse. I want to clarify that I didn't stop wearing vintage daily because of off-handed comments, but I now realize it's something that subconsciously made it less appealing. 

Misogyny is everywhere. All of us have been subject to it from infancy. It's not something that suddenly appears when you reach a certain age, it's something that you may one day realize was there all along.
I am not the ideal person to be writing about this, there are far more eloquent people out there who could get the point across, but I'm not seeing that on vintage platforms. And if I don't say something just because I don't think it's as good as someone else could make it, then I'm part of the problem too. 

Sure, the phrase "I wish women still dressed like that" is not always sexist. But do you really think a comment that puts down other people is an acceptable one?  

It wasn't always the creepiest looking guy who unloaded his harmful opinions, and it most certainly wasn't always a man. But it often times was, which caused an instant reaction of avoidance at all costs. If you've never experienced that then good for you. I make judgments, and if you say you don't you're either deluded, or you're flat out lying. I make judgments. Sometimes they're proven wrong, sometimes the scariest-looking person ends up being being the one who just simply says "cool hat" and the sanest-looking person ends up saying something incredibly offensive. 

But you're mad at me for judging? Seriously? I'm not doing it for fun, it's not superficial. Two years ago I may have cared what I was looking at, but now I just don't. Judging is something we do to continue or better our lives. I will avoid the side of the street with the guy who looks like he might pull a knife on me, and you are actually angry at me for judging? 

Well guess what? I'm pissed off you aren't mad at people who prove my judgement right. I'm angry you can't actually see that saying things like, "I don't like other girls" or, "well if only women dressed more modestly we wouldn't have this problem" is toxic. 

It is toxic to you, it is toxic to the people around you. It took me a while to realize all of this, and the horrible thing is, I'm still learning. Because sexism is so latent and ingrained in our culture, I'm still learning things about it that astound me. 

This is not about a single phrase. This is about realizing that the way you dress is not an invitation to critique you or dismiss other people's fashion choices. If you take away that I am a mean feminist who can't take a compliment, then I invite you to roll with it and go away. If you are open to even the slightest notion that what is around you, that what you have been taught is acceptable and normal is actually very hurtful to both women and men, then please, explore that. Talk to me, join the conversation, sit back and listen, just don't ignore something you live with every day. I can't address every complaint made against my last post, not because I can't, but because I don't know how to do so in a way that might get through to you. As I said, I'm not the best person to be writing about this, but I hope it sparks a thought, a conversation, or a change.

Because if you are angry with me for bringing this up, you should ask yourself exactly why.


{special thanks to Whitney for helping me gather my jumbled thoughts}


Confessions of a former vintage addict {pt. 2}

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So there's one comment I always hated receiving from men when wearing vintage. It's not obvious, not like a catcall, which can be easily responded to with a couple of fingers or colorful language. It's a creepy compliment. 

"I wish women still dressed like that."

Now, if Tom Hiddleston said this to me 1. What am I doing hanging out with Tom Hiddleston there has to be more to that story. 2. I'd be too passed out to hear. 

Nope, the kind of men I would hear that from were outwardly creepy. Not even a handsome creeper in disguise that gets away with that junk on a regular basis, just plain gross, which makes the comment even worse (though it's weird no matter who says it). Creepiest looking dude at the bus stop? Yeah he's going say that then strike up conversation with me about how he wishes his girlfriend would wear stocking like that. Thanks dude. Totally wanted to know that. 

"I wish women still dressed like that" is not a compliment. They're not trying to flatter you with a genuine comment about your style or personality, it's basically an acceptable way of saying "I wish the values of the 50s were still in place today so I could be above you and you'd have no control over that." 


Now I've had similar comments that are not misogynistic in any way, such as "I wish more people would have that much fun with clothing nowadays." I mean it's kind of silly, just because you don't like the way people enjoy and experiment with fashion now, doesn't mean it's not happening. But it's not creepy. 

After so many years of odd words and leering glances, you just kind of get tired of it. No, actually, you get bitter. Yeah ok I'm bitter. I still love standing out now and then because for me fashion is the ultimate form of self expression. But at this point I take pleasure in being a bit invisible day to day. I'm not a people person, I'm a people watcher, and I'd much rather observe the world go on around me than be forced to interact with someone I didn't choose to converse with in the first place. And never would. 

So there you go, that's just a teeny fraction of the creepy sexist portion of vintage culture that no one really seems to bring up. I think it's just so acceptable, kind of a "comes with the territory" thing that nobody bothers. But as I said, I'm bitter. And my eyes are getting tired from rolling so much.


You are welcome to read my response to the comments in this post here.



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Pretty soon the prettiest pink cherry blossoms will be everywhere. Meanwhile, while it's snowing, I made a cherry blossom inspired pom-pom headdress. Who's ready for spring?

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The gray dress

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My love for this dress is unlimited. 

It looks like it's straight off a runway, with quality that can now only be found in couture and vintage. I've been slowly giving in to my love for 60s fashions, having grown up on large doses of Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie. It was inevitable.

I just love the clean lines and often simplicity of the era, often topped off with a dramatic detail like a bold collar or jewel toned embroidery. 

This dress just has that je ne sais quoi that belongs to the 60s, it's so easy to wear, and at this awkward time of year between winter and spring, it's just what my wardrobe needed. 

Dress-Buffalo Exchange



Knit turban and gloves-thrifted 

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