Click each set or visit my Polyvore page to see details.

I have just discovered something profound and horrifying, and I need to share it with you all:

TIME IS NOT UNDER OUR CONTROL.

Okay, that intro sentence was meant to be funny, but really, I’m sometimes shocked at how little control– and often, even awareness– I have when it comes to time.  I could’ve sworn, just before I looked at my calendar, that it’s early June and I’ve just finished classes.  Or maybe it’s July and I still have weeks left to lie by the lake and assure myself that papers will be completed soon (really, self, so soon!).  But no, it’s late August, and I’ve somehow made it to the end of the summer without realizing it.

Profound and Horrifying: dress (Anthropologie, $30), briefcase (c/o ASOS), best sandals ever (c/o Wanted Shoes), jewels (various).

Such a goofy face!

This isn’t a new phenomenon.  I’m always wondering where time has gone, especially during the summer.  And I have some pretty good answers– it’s gone to the library and Powell’s and Myopic; to the Northwest, New York, and South Carolina; to The Empty Bottle, The Art Institute, Indian restaurants, the lake, the park…  Time has been well-used this summer; happily, I was so busy playing and working that I forgot to watch the clock.  Unhappily, I forgot to blog, too.  I’ve worn many an outfit since I posted last, and have gone through a sort of style identity crisis during the sweltering heat this city suffered.  Alas, all that will remain unshared.

As time continues to fly and fall draws near, here’s one outfit I did record.  I adore this silk dress and its funky print.  The shoes are my go-to summer sandals, and the bag has been a godsend (ASOS-send?) for when I’m attempting to look professional.  I’ve been carrying it for months; now let’s just hope that as the weather cools down and my favorite ways of dressing are possible again (boots! scarves! tights! blazers!) I have a little more to share with you all.

How has your summer been?  Have you been wondering where time has gone?  What’s the best thing you’ve done all summer?

The Most Risque: leopard print dress (Hussie-Mart/Forever 21 via thrift, $6), belt (thrifted, $3), shoes (C/O Wanted Shoes), jewels (various).

As I’ve mentioned countless times on this blog, I grew up in a rural, conservative town in the South.  How I managed to emerge from that upbringing as a liberal vegetarian nerd-face is beyond me.  I think it might’ve had something to do with cool parents, lots of books, and British tv, but I could just as easily be an alien.  Despite my broad structural differences from the land of my birth (which I still love to pieces, by the way), there are some things about me that I think of as super Southern, or at least that linger in my brain from my formative years.  See my love of grits, boiled peanuts, watermelon, hush puppies, and mac and cheese; my affection for muddy rivers and large, open spaces; my affinity for heat and humidity; and my occasional use of the term “y’all.

Andrea is funny. So is my face.

Something about me that is decidedly un-Southern?  My love of animal prints.  Growing up, women who wore them were the same ones people at the hair dresser called “bleach blondes” and then were vomitously nice to at church bar-b-ques or t-ball games.  Leopard print was especially risque, and I remember the way that the few women who wore it got the side-eye from more than one matron or young pearl-clutcher-in-training.

Awesome stamps from Randolph Market. I wanted to buy a zillion!  Instead I bought 4.

Karyn of Dethrose Vintage

I’ve never been one to toss around negative words for women and their sexuality (you know the ones…).  Vague concepts of feminism (or maybe just not being a total d-bag?) got implanted in my brain at an early age, and I was always massively uncomfortable with the way both men and women (but especially women) treated those ladies who didn’t fit in with the often rigid expectations of their gender.  Since becoming a real-life adult and leaving that small town behind, I’ve embraced the idea that animal prints aren’t just for women who threaten the staid and serious members of the prayer meeting committee.  While I’m no Andrea, who can rock the leopard like no one else I know, I consider myself a serious devotee of the animal print, and wearing it often leaves me with this silent thrill of solidarity with those women from my youth, whose sense of style and adventure ended them up on the wrong side of the cultural law.

With Merl, who’s not blonde, but is a (completely ridiculous queen of a) bombshell.

This is what happens when you bike in sandals: you get THE BLACK FOOT!  Thanks to Wanted Shoes for possibly the best pair of low-heeled sandals in the entire world.

In Chicago, no one looks twice at a woman in a head-to-toe leopard print, even when her dress is too big (like here!) and especially when mega-blondes (like this one and this one) are at her side.  Andrea and I strolled through Randolph Market and giggled over breakfast and I never once got a suspicious glare from booth tenders or lemonade girls.  Whether that’s a sign of the times or the region, I can’t be sure.  But I can say that I probably won’t ever stop feeling the tiniest bit rebellious when I wear a dress like this…but I probably won’t be bleaching my hair, either.  :)

Mega thanks to Andrea for photos!!  And if you’re on Instagram, hit us up at @sartoriography and @andreakerbuski

After a brief hiatus, The Summer Wanderer Series is back!  Now that we’ve planned and packed your warm-weather travel wardrobe, it’s time to add in the one thing we’ve forgotten: beachwear!  After all, no summer vacation is complete without some time at the pool or on the sand.  Whether you’re planning to sprint after frisbees, set sail in the sun, or lounge under an umbrella, the looks below will keep you stylish without adding too much bulk to your suitcase.  The key to keeping things light?: re-use street-wear on the beach and beachwear on the street.  And let your accessories and space-savers like canvas totes and turbans sass up your get-up!

Which look is your favorite?  Do you have any suggestions for balancing fashion and function at the shore?  Share your ideas in the comments!

For more advice on packing and travel wardrobes, see Part One and Part Two of the Summer Wanderer Series, in which we strategize on how to pack and dress for summer travel.

***See something you like?  Head to my Polyvore page for specific item details!***

Contents of Le Bag:

Southwestern print briefcase/messenger (thrifted, $2), glasses (guess I was wearing contact that day), Illuminations by Walter Benjamin (only one of the greatest books of essays ever), wallet from Namibia, suitcase label from some flight or another, keys, stick drive, partially eaten fig bar, Ellen Lindgren for Wisconsin State Assembly pin, Macbook Pro, phone, random buffalo buttons (??), photobooth strip with Andrea and Tabitha, “Permanent Gentleman” postcard from Namibia, pens, ever-present mason jar of iced tea.

In Part 1 of the Summer Wanderer Series I shared some practical advice on how to choose a wardrobe for summer travel. Now it’s time to test my theories and see how well these pieces work.  Below is about a month’s worth of outfits built from the items I chose; each is (loosely) inspired by a European city.

A few overall reflections: I think these outfits demonstrate the versatility of my fictional travel wardrobe, but there are definitely things I could’ve done better.  I should’ve packed belts and a black bag (some outfits reflect these additions).  I could’ve also used some black sandals and maybe a few more/different scarves.  Still, thumbs up to the wardrobe workhorses: the navy skirt, black skinny jeans, grey tee, cobalt trousers, and brown tote and sandals.  While it gets a little boring to see the same bag and shoes show up over and over again, I think it’s a realistic reflection of a limited wardrobe and proves how crucial it is to pack good accessories.

Also crucial– not packing things you really don’t need.  A few days before I’m set to leave for a trip I lay out every item I’ve chosen and create possible combinations.  Any piece that doesn’t go into at least three outfits suffers the cruel fate of rejection.  In my virtual culling process I realized I probably wouldn’t use some of my “just for fun” pieces, especially the pink and gold skirt and some of the sequin pieces.  If I were packing for real, they’d be out of the game, and I’d put in the aforementioned bag and shoes in their place.  More accessories=new ways to wear dresses, which exponentially increases outfit options and work well for day to night looks.

What would you have packed if you were wandering Europe this summer?  Which outfits are your favorites?  Any you particularly don’t like?  Share your advice!!

For more packing tips and travel style, come visit me on Pinterest!

One of my closest friends (also named Emily) is spending her summer in Europe with her husband and family.  When she called me in the midst of packing panic, I was reminded that, while spending months in Europe is a dream, packing efficiently for the trip can be a bit of a nightmare.  Having just come back from traveling around 4 countries for 3 months with only one small backpack, I can empathize.

Because I’m such a very good friend (and because I really didn’t want to translate anymore poetry) I calmed her fears with all kinds of packing advice via my brain, my blog, Polyvore and Pinterest.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing that advice in a series entitled, “Summer Wanderer,” featuring packing tips and outfits designed to maxime key pieces (and suitcase space!) without minimizing style.

SUMMER WANDERER, Part 1: Planning Your Travel Wardrobe

1: Color Palette.  Choose one basic color palette and stick to it.  I’m a big fan of neutrals for their wide range, but if you’re a die-hard color lover, choose one color family (red, orange, and pink, for instance).  After you’ve selected your colors, find solid, versatile pieces in that palette.  For summer travel, I tend toward dresses and skirts, with usually only one pair of pants and a pair or two of shorts.  A good variety of separates is always a good idea, in that it helps maximize your mix and match potential.

2: Prints!: Expand your repertoire by selecting prints made-up of your core colors.  They’ll go with your key pieces, but they’ll keep you from looking too Nihilist-style monochromatic.  Here neutrals get a kick in the pants (hah!) with stripes, plaid, polka dots, leopard, and ikat.  Who says neutrals are boring?!

3: Fun!: It may be boring, but it’s best to stick primarily to pieces you know you’ll wear multiple times.  To that end, choose pieces that you can mix and match and be realistic about where you’re going and what you’ll be doing.  If you’ll be walking kilometer after kilometer, set aside those 4-inch heels.  If you’re going to a laid back beach village, black slinky dresses not be the best choice.  That said, don’t be afraid to add in a few “just in case!” items, like a fun dress or a sequined cardigan.  You never know when you’ll end up at an art party in Paris where everyone looks cooler than Vogue thinks it is (this actually happened to me, and I thank the fashion gods I tossed in a few magic things at the last minute).  Add to those pieces a couple in a ”statement” color.  Here I’ve chosen citron, mustard, and gold, which remind me France and Italy.

4: Be Smart.  Pack sensible, versatile outerwear and shoes.  These are the things that take up the most space and end up being the most crucial.  There’s nothing worse than getting blisters from bad shoes, except maybe not having enough space for all your souvenirs because of that fancy coat you brought but never used.

5: Accesorize!  Use accessories to bring life to basic outfits.  Jewelry and scarves pack well into small spaces and make all the difference in a simple look.  Scarves have the added bonus of keeping you warm when needed and acting as a beach blanket, gag, or tug-of-war rope in a pinch.

RECAP: All told we’ve got 34 pieces of clothing, 4 pairs of shoes, a backpack, a tote, a hat, and a pile of other accessories.  I’d say that puts us squarely between “Obsessively Light Packer” and “3 Suitcases Clotheshorse.”  It’s a good place to be. I forgot to add belts, but I’m too lazy to change all these polyvore sets, so just pretend they’re there.  I’d also add in a gold clutch.

Check back soon for Part 2 of this series, in which I’ll put together some outfits from these pieces, each inspired by a European city, and learn how to cull pieces you could probably do without.   

How do you pack for long trips?  What are your must-have travel items?  Any great packing secrets?

If you want more visuals and sneaky strategies, check out this guest post from The Other Emily (I know, another one!) in which she shared packing tips gained from a year of traveling around Europe.

Dust and sunset.

It’s that time again: Photos That Probably Bore You Time!!  What follows is something of an explanation of my time in Namibia.  I find that sharing pictures is much easier than writing to you all about the experience, and after several weeks of thinking about what to write, I’m still at a bit of a loss.  Namibia is a strange and fascinating place that is, in so many ways beyond the geographical, the farthest from home I’ve ever been.    At the same time, the years I’ve spent there have made it a home in itself.  It’s peculiar and surprising and resistant to simple descriptions, but it’s also familiar, and going back there was a homecoming, in a way.

The church at sunset with the adorable crossing “sign” in the foreground.

I guess, by way of explanation, I’ll tell this story, and leave it at that:

The day after I arrived to the village where I lived during Peace Corps, I got dragged out of sleep at an ungodly hour by pounding on the windows of the little concrete hut where I was staying.  Being woken up or intruded upon is par for the course in the Nam, and I stumbled out the door in a sarong, crazy-haired, and found standing on my doorstep a girl I’d last seen when she was 16.  She’s 21 now, and very pregnant, the same and not the same to me, just like her country.  We talked for a while, and the problems of her life– little money, family struggles, a boyfriend who’d just wandered away– weighed on me.  In the weeks that followed we took long walks in the sand and talked about the baby and she acted as my translator with traditional healers and elders when my language skills failed me.  I’d call her Mwinda, like her mother did (instead of her church name), and we settled into a kind of partnership that I hadn’t expected.

The sun over the thatched roof of my hut house.

One hot night– all the nights are, so this is a superfluous adjective– I heard that Mwinda had gone into early labour, and by the time I’d crossed the mission to the hospital the baby had almost arrived.  I waited in the hall, asking the impatient nurses too many questions, and when I discovered that she was giving birth without any family, I asked if I could stand in their place.  The nurses gave me the side-eye, wondering why this white American was so curious about some village girl.  In the end, they let me go into the delivery room, more to shut me up than anything, I suspect.  I held Mwinda’s hand and watched her baby struggle into the world.  I stood next to them as that tiny body took its first breaths.  Mwinda named her Kendra.  I am her godmother.

The newly arrived, only 2kg Kendra.

At the risk of making things conveniently relevant, Kendra’s birth is a sort of metaphor for all the months and years I’ve spent in Namibia.  It’s messy and complicated and there are few easy moments.  But it’s beautiful, too, and something unlike anything else.  It stays with you, long after the silence has settled in, and before you know it, you’re inextricably connected.  This time was no different, and when I go back again, I suspect I’ll experience some version of this labyrinth of thought and feeling.

Until then, enough reflection!  Enjoy the photos, and ask questions, if you have them.

Vested Interest: trench (H&M, $15), vest (gift), black skinnies (thrifted), button-up (Old Navy, $8), boots (Target, $15), jewels (various).

Case in point: a few nights ago I dreamt that I was caught in a love triangle with Jake Gyllenhaal and Jeff Probst…on a plane…going from Australia to LA…and the plane crashed…and I had to give birth to a baby (Jake’s?!  Jeff’s?!  Stay tuned!) amidst screams and flames and lots of sand.  Thank goodness there was a hot doctor there to help me out…though he did seem distracted by that curly haired woman…(thanks to JJ Abrams for the dream’s plot).

A close-up of this neutral-texture party.

Sometimes said dreams are actually useful.  When picking out my outfit for the day I realized that it was exactly what I was wearing in the dream: a vest, an oxford, black pants, and a trench.  How a pregnant belly ever fit under that I’ll never know…though this vest is a little unflatteringly puffy, now that I think of it.  Maybe it wasn’t a dream, after all…

PS: Who would you choose, Jake or Jeff?

This is my face on dreams (or what I look like when the timer goes off before it's supposed to).

Remember me?  No?  Well, my name is Emily.  Nice to meet you (but not in the creepy way of 42 year old men in chat rooms).  Sometimes I write this blog, and sometimes I go to Africa and ditch this blog for months and months.  Now that I’ve returned (for now, anyway), I’ll try to actually post some outfits once in a while.  Failing that, I will post copious amount of travel photos that mean nothing to any of you.

Now, please excuse me while I abandon you again to eat brie, read Courtesy Laugh, and not cut my hair.

PS: I may have been gone for a while, but I still love chambray and Johnny Cash-esque semi-suits.

Remember Me?: wide-leg jeans (Old Navy, $15), chambray button-up (thrifted, $2), Armani blazer (vintage, thrifted, $3), bag (gift), belt (thrifted, $1), wedge booties (Old Navy, $12), glasses (random, $3), jewels (various, some from Africa).

New, hideous-but-I-love-them glasses. Also, I have a total can-opener tooth.

After approximately 87 flights (not to mention the taxis, mini-busses, and trains) and about as many hours, I’m back in Chicago.  While I fight off jetlag and try to remember how to behave like a normal human being, here’s the first of a few posts to catch you up on what I’ve been doing since Paris.  First stop: Spain.  This part of the trip is now far behind me (chronologically, geographically, culturally), but it’ll be a long time before I forget the joy of rolling r’s, tortilla, and walking with friends in the salty sea air.

A Namibia update will follow soon, and then back to business as (un)usual.  Until then, stay strong and…you know, stuff.

-E

Off to Northern Spain tomorrow, then to Cape Town in a few days.  Hope all is well, blog folks and random passersby.

Jacket (gift), tee (thrifted, $1), skirt (Anthropologie, $20), belt (thrifted, $.75), boots (random), jewelz (various), grave (the Legare family).

Happy New Year, folks!  It’s your favorite (9th favorite?  132nd favorite?) skiver blogger here.  I’ve just returned to Chicago from the South and in a few days I’m (here’s the exciting part of this post)…off to Europe!  And then Africa!  I’ll be visiting friends in France and Spain on my way to South Africa and Namibia, where I’ll be doing fieldwork for a few months.  This means I’ll continue to shirk my blogger duties, and will probably only post the occasional photo of myself looking sweaty and thoughtful in Namibia’s desert summer.  I don’t expect I’ll be wearing much that’s worth comment, since I’m only taking with me what will fit in a small backpack.  Still, if you’re pining after my sartorial self (and who isn’t, right?), you can imagine me in my standard “I’m in Africa” uniform: a sand-covered white skirt, a random tank top, Chacos, and some sort of headband or scarf.  I look like a hippie who got lost in the dunes.  I quite love it.

In a last ditch effort to appease the disgruntled souls who’ve frowned at my lack of posts (that’s you, James, and random emailer who thinks we’re best friends), here are some outfit shots from a recent day trip to Edisto Island.  Most of these photos were taken at a beautiful 18th century church and cemetery right off the Atlantic.  It wasn’t difficult to justify prowling the grounds and using the mausoleum as a prop; the last Legare was buried here so long ago it’s unlikely there are any mourning relatives left to offend.   After desecrating resting places and fruitlessly searching for haints, my pal Sean and I had a little sunset picnic on the beach, then carried on roaming the Lowcountry.

Cypress swamp awesomeness

And that, as they say, is that.  I hope you all have a wonderful few months!  I’ll return here as often as I can, and may occasionally confirm that I’m alive via weird pictures of my head with African landmarks.  I’m sure I’ll inundate you all with stories when I’m home in the spring, but if you wish for a personal one, send me your address at sartoriography@gmail.com and I’ll send you a postcard.  No spam, I promise.  And no, Merl, I will not send you a baby cheetah.

In the past I’ve written about how I tend to disappear into my brain cave when writing time comes around each quarter.  This term, I spent more than my standard week or two wandering around the caverns of my own thoughts, but I’ve finally emerged.  It’s the holiday season, I’m (mostly) finished with finals and I’ve gone through a really important rite of passage in my program.  Everything is slowly sliding back to normal, and that includes a return to blogging.  Yippee!

Out of the Cave and Into the Gardens: coat (thrifted, $6), bag (thrifted, $3), boots (thrifted, $12), skirt (thrifted, $4), sweater (gift), tights (c/o HUE).

With some mega-plants in one of the greenhouses.

I was amazed at the size of these plants...obviously.

Part of coming out of the academic coma is doing things that don’t involve either school or my nerdy-pants neighborhood.  For example, last weekend a friend and I went to see the holiday display at Chicago Botanic Gardens, which was really beautiful.  There were light-laden trees, tiny trains and mini-Chicago landmarks, and festive decorations hiding between cacti and ferns.  If you live in the Chicagoland area and haven’t been to the Botanic Gardens, get thee there at once!  It’s worth it just for the English walled garden.

Holiday trains made their way around mini-Chicago landmarks. Super cute!

The one nerdy thing I couldn’t leave behind (okay, aside from myself) was this be-spectacled sweater.  I just adore it, and it’s even cuter when the bow tie isn’t crushed by a coat and a bag.  I had to apply some duct tape between the button holes to keep from flashing m’girls to the world (damn my ample bosom!), but otherwise this was the perfect happy get-up to wear on an outing where I was determined not to work.

Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired building overlooking a lake. So pretty!

My favorite place at the gardens, Spider Island.

Goofy face in the setting sun.

My companion for the day in the fading light.

That’s right, it’s at exactly 11:11 on 11-11-11.  For someone whose family has always joked about the tyrannical horror of the number 11, it was pretty much required that I publish a post at this time on this day of this year.  And so, for your reading pleasure, here are some very important and all indisputably true and logical facts regarding this oh so important number:

-The number 11 is a palindrome and is also one of the numbers that looks the same upside down as right side up.  Others are 0, 1, and 8.

-The deepest point in the ocean is in the Mariana Trench at 11km from sea level.

-World War I ended on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of the year 1918.

-11 is the number of brothers of the Biblical Joseph, dreamer and wearer of fancy coats

-The state of New York was the 11st state added to the Union.

-The first American lunar landing was made by Apollo 11.

-The largest cat in the world is the Siberian tiger measuring 11 feet long.

-The Grateful Dead wrote a very cool song called The Eleven.

-Soccer, cricket, American football, and hockey are all played with 11 players.

-According to some spiritual something from somewhere, “11:11 is said to be a pre-encoded trigger placed in our cellular memory banks prior to our descent into matter which when activated, signifies that our time of completion and ascension is near. It is believed that one knows when this particular gateway opens for them by continually seeing the   numbers 11:11 in there every day lives as a continuous ocurrence. Activation of other gateways may be symbolized by other digits.”  Again, all true and logical.

-When I was 11 I was already as tall as I am now, and just as weird and nerdy, although probably less likely to be writing blog posts about 11:11.  Actually, that last part isn’t true.

And that, my friends, is all I care to say about that!  Happy 11:11 to you all, no matter what time you’re reading this!

Following are a few things you may or may not know about me.  If you fall into the former camp, please pretend to be surprised or at least interested.  It’s only polite.

1: If I believed in former lives I’d be certain that I was a British school boy/Oxford man in one of mine, circa early-mid 20th century.  Or maybe I was a sailor in the Royal Navy.  Or maybe I was both.  Either way, there has to be some deeply mystical explanation for my preternatural love of stripes, blazers, insignias, oxfords, navy, the ocean, the British classics, the perfect weathered satchel, and general chappery.

2: I may be a nerd in my professional life, but off-duty I’m pretty handy when it comes to jobs stereotypically associated with the more dudely end of the gender continuum.  I once helped my dad remove, tinker with, and replace a transmission, and while wearing this very outfit I de-masted a sailboat.  Doesn’t that sound dirty?  In this instance, said emasculated sailboat is the one on which I perched myself for photos.  I’m a fan of adding insult to injury.

I’m sad to say these photos are from my final to the marina, where I helped pack up The Kestrel for the winter.  I hope you enjoy a little glimpse of its pretty details, along with this semi-nautical, semi-school boy outfit.  Now, it’s off to the high seas with me, as I mix metaphor and swab the decks with the pages of Beowulf and my stripe-y school boy scarf!

PS: What were you in your past life/lives?

PPS: I’m obsessed with these shoes!

]]> http://sartoriography.wordpress.com/2011/11/01/past-lives-if-they-existed-oxford-man-and-the-royal-navy/feed/ 19 EmiLeafyGreens Past lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives Past Lives http://sartoriography.wordpress.com/2011/10/21/only-a-hooligan-head-covers-hardcore-swahili-and-how-to-spot-an-mhuni/ http://sartoriography.wordpress.com/2011/10/21/only-a-hooligan-head-covers-hardcore-swahili-and-how-to-spot-an-mhuni/#comments Fri, 21 Oct 2011 05:19:40 +0000 Emily http://sartoriography.wordpress.com/?p=5601 ]]> Hapa ni simulizi kwa nyinyi.  In Swahili, that sentence reads, “Here’s a story for you.”  And indeed, here’s a story, one in which Swahili is humorously relevant, as is this outfit (well, mostly just the hat).

My favorite hat taken on a whole new meaning...

In my Swahili translation session my absolutely hilarious professor often shares useful pieces of info regarding colloquial or idiomatic speech.  He’s taught us how to say the Kenyan equivalent of , “Eh, whatevs,” has turned me into an A+ slinger of  some East African Marxist terminology, and makes sure we know how to discuss hot dudes and randoms with equal skill.  All this is typically accompanied by goofy black board diagrams that look nothing like what he says he’s drawing (think a machine-gun looking trumpet or an explosion that’s supposed to be a god).  In short, we learn everything we need to know for a full and happy life as Swahili speakers, with a dash of Surrealism on the side.

Hooligan: trench (H&M, $15), dress (thrifted, $3), tights (c/o Hue), belt (found on the ground), boots (thrifted, $10), hat (East Africa Hooligans-R-Us, apparently).

This last week my professor taught us some key vocab, including the term for “hooligan,” (mhuni) which is apparently a very popular insult in East Africa.  After trying his best to draw a hooligan on the board, he gave up, looked dejected, and then suddenly shouted, “AHA!  There is a hooligan!”  It scared the shiz out of my classmates and me, and I turned around to see who he had identified.  No one there.  Wait, whaaaa?  Why is he pointing at my head?  Is the hooligan…me?  Oh.  Err…?  He grinned triumphantly and said, with joy at his Sherlock Holmes-style skills of deduction, “Only a hooligan ever wears such a hat!”

Bracelets from southern Africa, where no one speaks Swahili, but where there are certainly some hooligans.

Hooligan behavior!

There you have it, folks.  What I thought was a stylish and clever way of hiding my aversion to showering is apparently just the head-cover of a hooligan.  Who knew?  Well, come to think of it, maybe urchins and hooligans have something in common…

A Drowsy Numbness: skirt (Anthropologie, $50), top (H&M, $9), jacket (gift), boots (random, $30ish), earrings (uummm...?), necklace ($1, thrifted).

"I'm very serious about this jacket. This is my melodious plot of beechen green."

As some of you may know, we grad students party like wild people.  We’re pretty much out of control.  The phrase “nerd alert”?  That’s code for, “Look out, this party is about to get real!”  Case in point: my adventures this Friday night.  After folding laundry and making a giant pot of tomato spelt soup I lay on my living room rug, reading and re-reading Keats (“My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense…”) and listening with rapt attention to Seamus Heaney’s Nobel lecture.  There’s nothing more raucous than a rich Irish brogue and poetry laden with dryads and affect.

Okay, okay, I know.  I’m about as exciting as a dial tone.  ”Drowsy numbness” is right, Keats!  But I compensate for my lack of bar dancing or beer guzzling by wearing a hodgepodge of  neutrals with solar-system looking arts and craft project necklaces.  That counts for something, right?  If not, I’m screwed, because it’s Saturday night I’m already eyeing a volume of Rilke poems and a pile of pillows like there’s no tomorrow.

See those sexy dudes up there?  On my behalf they’re saying, “Get thee to What Would a Nerd Wear!”  My darker and more sinister half, Common Crow Vintage, is sponsoring a give-away on Tania’s blog.  Enter to win a $25 gift certificate so you can plunder the vintage goodness I’ve got going on.

Not convinced?  Check out some of these pieces; maybe one of them will seduce you with its awesomeness.

PS: Outfit posts to soon return.  Broken cameras, new laptops, visiting siblings, and, OH YEAH, my career have kind of gotten in the way of this blog o’ mine.  But don’t worry, I’m still alive!  :)

Vintage suede jacket, $32

Vintage Wrangler cowgirl boots, $55

Vintage trench/hunter coat, $35

Vintage Liz Claiborne Flats, $24

Vintage polka dot blouse with button up back, $18

Vintage Striped Market Tote, $22

Marx: Jeans (vintage, thrifted, $3), striped top (H&M, $9), vest gift), boots (random, $30), hat (H&M, $12).

Once upon a time, there was this dude named Karl Marx.  He had some theories about capitalism, labour, and…you know, other stuff.  Marx coined this term “commodity fetish,” which he described as…uhhh…people getting too attached to material things and turning them into substitutes for human relations.

Okay, that’s not exactly what he said, BUT it’s a great way for me to bring up two relevant facts.  The first is that I recently lost my laptop in a brutal sweet-tea explosion, hence my disappearance from the interwebs.  Despite my general disdain for gadgetry and technology, I suffered some serious heartache at the loss of my computer.  You’d have thought it was my grandma…or at least my puppy.  It has been my constant companion these three years, and has seen me through many a late night/early morning writing session.  So, my grief explains my absence…and gives you a very bad example of commodity festishism.

Second…school has started again!!  This means I get to wear fall clothes (as evidenced here, in all their neutral, abandoned-building adventure glory) and read fun stuff like Marx!  Lucky for us all, I don’t generally butcher my analysis in class like I do on my blog.

PS: I’m obsessed with this vest.  I feel very “tough explorer girl” in it…but without the imperialism.

Hugging, not humping.

YAY, adventures! Happy to report I did not fall on my face after this photo was taken.

hanging with my favorite Chi bloggers,

honing my "twinstincts" with Tabitha, my mini-me,

mugging with mugs,

nerding out over Russian war art,

adoring this tiny person,

stalking Narcissist-style nuns,

missing this gal,

getting edjikated,

taking self-portraits,

watching Lake Michigan sunrises,

clownin' (as my brother would say) at blogger events,

trying to be normal at blogger events,

staring at creepy awesome things in tanks of water,

and listening to requiems with this guy.

Life has been busy and wonderful.  I’ve been clad in gloriously thrifted cobalt blue dresses and lots of jewels.  The weather has been windy and stunning.  Basically, I’m content, even if I have been a very lazy blogger.  :)

Thanks to Andrea for photos; Shop It to Me, ASOS, Deliciously Vintage, and Julie Watson Style for fantastic events; Tabitha, Andrea, Merl, and Lisa for super for times (as always); and Sean for the best birthday EVER.

The world is getting crazy, people.  We’ve got earthquakes, hurricanes, flooding, Al Sharpton hosting a news show, and Emily (that’s me) braving ant colonies and drug busts to take outfit photos.  Okay, the world has always been crazy and fashion blogging isn’t exactly on par with natural disasters.  Forgive the blatant use of others’ misfortunes to make my own story more interesting, but I felt this post needed some sort of dramatic intro.

After all, it’s the drama I love about these pictures.  Although my personality isn’t as “Ooh, I have a pouty face and a broken-up heart,” as these photos might imply, I do love a good smoky eye and black dress on occasion.  When I snagged this belt at the thrift store in my home town I knew I had to wear it with something that played up its 70′s glam quality, and this versatile, blank palate of a maxi dress seemed perfect.

Dress (Ross, $12), belt (vintage, thrifted, $3), shoes (random wedding store), earrings (gift), drama (borrowed from Jenny, very difficult to maintain in real life).

Instead of just snapping my pictures against the requisite wall, I wandered out to a field and posed with this broken-down truck (to go with my broken-up heart).  The juxtaposition of the glamorous black and gold outfit with the desaturated, peeling, crumbling truck and the dry fields makes me inordinately happy.   I felt very “Steinbeck dust bowl meets disco-era Jenny from Forrest Gump (minus the coke high and the skeezy dudes).”  I love dichotomies like this; contrast makes the world so interesting.

I may have forgotten to take off the string from the price tag. Whoops.

I think I see a smile cracking. I can only pretend to be pouty for so long...

While climbing over ant hills (I sustained approximately 1000 bites) and negotiating scratchy briars I got involved in some genuine drama.  It started with a few farm hands asking me if I’d “heard anything.”  About what, I didn’t know.  But soon enough a giant helicopter and a posse of squad cars converged on the farm, and I hightailed it out of there on the assumption that drugs or…I don’t know, serious racketeering were involved.  (Really, I just wanted to write “racketeering).  Somehow the coppers didn’t think to question the sketchy looking random who was tromping around in a slinky dress and heels.  If anybody was suspicious in this scene, it was definitely me!

What’s your best crazy story involving outfit photos?  Anyone else have fun cop tales to tell?

International...crime syndicate?

Dress (vintage, thrifted, hacked, $3), belt (thrifted, $2), clutch (thrifted, 50 cents), necklaces (various, wicked cheap), earrings (gift), bracelet (artisans in Namibia) shoes (UO, $10).

1: It took four forms of transportation, 54 minutes, and an embarrassingly large number of “Excuse me!”s  for me to make it to our meet-up spot.  One of the forms of transportation was my bike, on which I rode with 12 nearly smashed cupcakes and one bottle of rapidly un-chilling champagne, almost running over a small child who was gawking at me.  It was an oddly fun commute (well, maybe not for that child).

Andrea's response to this face? "Typical." Okay, the girl knows me.

2: Upon arriving, Lisa and I discovered that we’d both worn dresses with hacked-off sleeves.  We each did the hacking ourselves, but not in coordination with one another (mine actually occured during a slumber party with Tania).  Anyway, this is what happens when someone is your blogger partner- you share freakish similarities.

3: The goody bags, wrangled by Tabitha and Lisa, were killer.  I’m a gift-grubbing greedy-pants, so I was excited to find that our tote bags looked more like loot from a robbery.  Though, come to think of it, there weren’t any big screen tv’s in there.  I’ll have to talk to T and L about that for next time.

Waah! The goodest of goody bags!

I'm trying to look like I'm not guffawing. Instead I just look like I'm sleeping upright.

4: There are some cool bloggers in Chicago.  Despite my tiredness and the aforementioned sweaty commute, I managed to have some great conversations with a number of ladies I’d never met (including Annie, who is new to the city and straight-up awesome) and a few of my favorite gals, too.

5: I’m so vain I had my photos taken by both Lisa and Andrea (my own camera died about 3 minutes into the meet-up).  I think they both made me look better than I do in real life.  I should probably be bothered by that, but I’m not.  I was wearing one of my favorite colors for summer/fall, this crazy royal blue, so I was too pleased to be bothered by pretty much anything.

And there you have it, the least important details of an evening full of conversation and “get-to-know-you”ness.  For actual information and pictures of someone other than me, check out the posts of some of the other bloggers who were there.

Light: sunlight (heaven), skirt (thrifted, $1), top (H&M, $7), heels (UO, $15), necklaces (stolen from my mama), belt (thfifted, $3).

So, here’s some info about me: I have a minor obsession with light.  My love of photography and, well, the fact that I’m a little weird combine to make me generally fascinated by the way light changes the world around me, how it enriches or flattens or obscures moments and objects.  I’m basically an angel, just less nice.  Also, I don’t have wings, which is really sad.

I especially love the times where light is at its most dramatic.  Ever since I was a little (and probably somewhat obnoxious) girl, dusk has been my favorite time of day.  So many of my most treasured memories are colored by the gold light of sunset- digging up cow bones in my backyard when I was 6 or 7 (I was certain they were dinosaur bones and my career path as a paleontologist was set); swinging on the tire swing with my brother; going to the beach with my family; crossing the Arno and seeing all of Florence around me; watching the bleeding sky in Namibia; standing with a man I loved next to a field in Montana.  These moments stand out because of both their emotional and aesthetic beauty, all wrapped up in a particular kind of light.

These photos were taken at dusk under the same tree where I dug for those bones and where our tire swing used to hang.  I love the light in them and how the rust and greens of the skirt echo the natural colors around me.  Also, I like that my parents live so far in the country that there were no randoms to gawk at me while I was taking these photos.  Are you a light fiend, too?  Anybody else wish you could live your entire life during the golden hour?

PS:  The cow bones were in my back yard because I lived in the middle of what used to be one huge plantation.  There were lots of cows and they died, leaving their bones for creepy 6 year olds to find and investigate with paint brushes and picks.  Much to my eternal disappointment, these skeletons were not the relics of dinosaurs on earth.  I’m still grieving over this reality.

Florals and graphic prints

More floral and graphic print

Anyone who’s read this blog more than…well, once?, has borne witness to my love of pattern mixing.  Even before I fell down the well of ridiculous blogger dressing I was a huge fan of putting florals with stripes or polka dots with geometric prints.  And what’s not to love?  There’s something about the riotous confusion of shapes and colors that makes my heart get all jelly-like.  In my more tame moods I really appreciate the look of combining different patterns in a neutral color palate.

Stripes on stripes

Polka dots and floral

Stripes and lace (which I could as both a texture and a pattern)

Now that I peer at life through my bloggles (definition: “blogger goggles,” noun, items which obscure manner in which non-blogger people dress and insist that huge buns, half-tucked shirts, and mega-heels are “normal”) pattern mixing seems like a mundane wardrobe standard.  It’s so popular that this month’s Everybody, Everywear is all about this favorite sartorial past time of mine.  And what a lovely thing, to see so many women rocking out something I love so well.  My own outfit of the day (a floral midi with a striped top) unfortunately wasn’t recorded, but included are some past instantiations of the wonder of print on print.

My favorite combo: stripes and florals

More stripes and florals

Wasn't kidding about it being my favorite.

What are your thoughts on pattern mixing?  Is it something you do well and/or often or do you stick to less complicated looks?  Anybody else rocking some mad bloggles?

People are always saying (and by people I mean that disembodied “conventional wisdom”) that you can’t be in two places at once.  How is it, then, that I am so firmly divided between two homes and two lives?  Part of me is here in Chicago, in the home of my present, surrounded by books and work and the pleasure of a busy life.  Another part remains in the home of my childhood, where the grass grows tall with the slightest rain and the air is rich with dirt and leaves and flowers.  A summer of shuttling between South Carolina and Chicago (for weddings, the happiest of reunions, and more weddings) has left me disoriented and experiencing a bit of culture shock, but happily so.  What a lucky life, to spend it loving such different and divided places.

Two Places at Once: top (gift), skirt (H&M, $25), shoes (gift), necklace (H&M, $3), train tracks (state of SC).

This is one of my favorite outfits from when I was in South Carolina.  I really like how the graphic print of the top is somewhat unexpected against the sweetness of the rosy skirt, and how the colors of the outfit echo the flowers that populate my parents’ garden and random fields.  Even though I’m ridiculously sweaty and covered in scratches from briars and branches, these are also some of my favorite photos (I know, there are a lot).  I took a sort of tour through some of  the places I love around my parents’ house- the railroad tracks, the ramshackle farms, the long stretch of highway at the bottom of a hill.  The landscape is so different from Chicago that, even though I grew up seeing it every day, it seems new and remarkable when I go back.

That may be the best thing about being in two places at once- each places makes the other seem new and rich, even as it feels like home.  Anyone else happy to love more than once place?  Do you live in a place that’s different from where you grew up?

PS: A MAJOR thanks to all the wonderful women who guest posted for me while I was away.  THANK YOU Emily, Lisa, Tania, Yen, JoAnn, and Andrea!

Maximizing Your Travel-Smart Style (Get It, MAXImizing?!)

by Andrea of Blonde Bedhead

These days, my travels are limited to trips to and from my home state, Michigan, where I’ve had to visit quite frequently this summer to photograph weddings. Last weekend I had both a wedding to shoot and my boyfriend’s family to meet. Since I was up in Northern Michigan where the temperatures are cooler and his grandparents live, I had to practice some level of conservatism (my mother urged me to not wear a romper and I listened), I opted for a maxi skirt and white bustier top. I wore it again this week to an event and I find this outfit to be quite versatile and comfortable–perfect for multiple wears in one week.

Bustier and maxi dress by Forever 21, shoes c/o Blowfish, bag by Badgley Mischka

Since I need options when I travel, bringing this maxi dress was perfect–I could choose to wear it as the maxi dress it was meant to be worn as or spice it up with a white bustier top or throw a sweater over top of it. This cut out the need for me to change multiple times in one day as I prefer to do. I could simply add or take away from the dress to create a whole new look, which I did as the day progressed and the temperatures dipped at night.

Now that you’re thoroughly schooled on how to travel light and still look hot, go check out Andrea’s blog.  And stay tuned for a post from…ME!  That’s right!  I’m back, kids!

The Travels of a Seafaring Lass

by JoAnn of Sidewalk Chic

Hey there, friends of sartoriography, I’m JoAnn of Sidewalk Chic!  When Emily asked me to expound on my thoughts on travel, my mind didn’t daydream of any planes, trains or automobiles abroad.  Rather, I thought about the ocean, which isn’t hard to wish for in the languishing summer air in landlocked north Georgia.

I’ve always been a seafaring lass at heart.  I grew up with a father in the Navy during my childhood, who would bring home curios from his adventures abroad.  To him, purchasing those items abroad would be a reminder of home as he held onto those pieces for us, and once safely tucked on a house shelf, the same mementos would provide memories of special adventures in his career.  As a young child, each of his trips would spark a curiosity about the world that would never be sated as I played with dolls from Japan or read books made in India.  Since then, I’ve had an obsession with nautical pieces — anything from sailboats to compasses to literature of long-ago pirates.  And whether these mementos are heirlooms or baubles I find on my own, they churn up feelings of long ago: inquisitiveness and a promise to learn, see and do more in the world.

Below are some of my favorites:

I’ve had this “genie bottle” since I was child, and it was purchased by my grandmother at a yard sale. It’s got a leather exterior, and it’s festooned with painted illustrations of ships and maps. Inside is a mirror at the base, and when you look into it, you see your own eye (which gives new meaning to “being careful what you wish for,” especially from a genie!) Despite its humble real-life beginnings in my life, I’ve always imagined that it had grander origins: as a holder for the Fountain of Youth for Ponce de Leon, or wine for Magellan.

This ship in a bottle was made by my father during his Navy days. I love how the sails in the front are still curled, as if they’re whipping against a fierce wind.

I bought “She Captains” years ago for the cover illustration, but have enjoyed the tales of female pirates and heroines many times over. It’s proto-feminist and full of badassery, as women commandeered and held sway in early maritime trade. No mermaids or fainting damsels included.

I found this sepia-toned globe online, and I love the vintage look to it. I hope to cover it with permanent marker-dots that represent future visits to other countries.

I found this dress at a thrift store, and it’s covered in little maps. It doesn’t quite fit, so I think I’ll admire its cartographic design on a wall.

My husband Jeremiah and I plan on collecting maps from places we visit and lining our walls with them. Below are two that are meaningful to us: Ireland, where his family is from, and Hawaii, where we went on our honeymoon. (In my spare time, I like pretending I’m hitchhiking to the third-largest island in Europe.)

I like when my maritime interests span across into sartorial choices. Wearing clothes covered in sailboats are an anecdote to the dog days of summer.

What kinds of mementos do you like to collect on your travels? Thanks so much, Em, for having me!

Anyone else want travel the world now?  While you’re at it, travel over to Sidewalk Chic and then make your way back in a few days for Andrea of Blonde Bedhead!

On How Not to Honeymoon

When Emily asked me to do a guest post about travelling, I knew I wouldn’t be handing out nifty little travel tips.  I am the perfect example of how not to travel… I pack at the last minute (far too much, of course), can’t sleep the night before and I eat junk food en route to the airport so I arrive at the destination exhausted and bloated.  Actually I do have one tip: Sour Watermelon slices sound NOT be eaten by the handful on the plane.

Instead I am going to do a post about how I nearly went on my honeymoon without my husband, Matt.

Spoiler alert. We’re still together.

It was a long time ago, our honeymoon. Almost 5 years actually… we’re far wiser now. We will never again go to the airport at 5 a.m. the morning after our wedding and find out one of our passports was expired by two months. It was Matt, not me… I just want to clear that up and throw him under that big, old bus. This is a true tory… You can call it our first test of marriage.

And what do you do when you find out you can’t leave the country to go on your prepaid honeymoon? You cry… I don’t remember all the exact details, I was exhausted from the wedding and only had maybe 3 hours sleep but I remember some back and forth which got us nowhere… so I cried. It might have been a blubber. And somehow through all this, I got a piece of paper in my hand with a scribbled number for emergency passports. Who gave it to me? I will never remember… in my mind, he was a magical airport fairy… We were told to wait until 8 a.m. and then we could call the number, so we just hung around the airport….tired, cranky and watching our flight show up on the board as departed… without us. We asked around if anyone knew about the emergency passport deal and we were met with blank stares. Not re-assuring at all. Potentially we were waiting to call a number that could be a hoax.

But it wasn’t. We got our flights rearranged and we went back home where I fell asleep (oh sleep, how I love you!) and Matt ran around getting pictures, signatures and driving back out to Toronto to meet the mystery emergency passport person. We left the next day and still had our honeymoon. A day shorter than originally planned.

I wish I could remember who gave us the number for the passport. I want to thank him for giving us the chance to go on a honeymoon. It also saved me the effort of picking which friend I would have taken to Cuba instead…

Wishing you were as funny as Yen?  Me, too.  Get thee to My Edit so you can steal her jokes (and her style, of course!).  And come back on Monday for JoAnn of Sidewalk Chic!

How to Make Packing and Moving More Difficult

by Tania of What Would a Nerd Wear

The internet seems to be full of people who are competent, responsible, organized packers. People full of useful tips, and beautiful snapshots, who face down 6 months of travel in a carry-on with a smile, and never wait until the last minute to do things.
It seems to me that nobody has any lessons for how to make packing and moving more difficult, and this is entirely unfair to those of us who might like to panic regularly while shoving things willy-nilly into boxes and leaving expensive furniture on the street because there’s not room for it in the moving truck.

Ergo, my 5 rules for making a move more difficult.

1. Move on short notice. Bonus points if you’re moving to a city more than 500 miles away that you’ve never been to. 

2. If you are moving with a partner, be sure you have completely opposite  packing styles. A neurotic neat-freak + an anything-goes mess-maker?  Yes, please. A hoarder + a minimalist? Excellent.

3. Move to a place where even when you double your rent budget, your new apartment will be half the size of your old one. Have fun throwing out all your stuff before you go.

4. If you’re a grad student or a college student, make sure you’ve never thrown out any of your papers so that you are forced to go through 6 drawers of files and agonize about keeping all of your seminar notes while your partner begs you just to burn them because they’ll be no room for anything extra in the $4000/month studio apartment you’re going to have to rent.

5. Possess an ungodly number of books. At least half the weight of your total possessions should be in books. They are heavy to carry, difficult to pack, and generally a pain in the ass to move. So the more you have, the better.

It’s hard for me to imagine that everyone out there wants things  to go more smoothly. So follow these steps and you too can show up in a  new city having lost the keys to your moving van, no longer on speaking  terms with your lover and suddenly realizing you forgot to pack underwear in your carry-on.

You’re cracking up now, right?  For more snarky awesomeness (and some serious style), check out Tania’s blog.  And come back here in a few days for a more (and Canadian!) awesomesness from Jentine of My Edit.

Hello readers of sartoriography! I’m Lisa of Archives Vintage, stepping in here for the day!

When Emily asked me to do a guest post for her that may or may not be travel related, I knew exactly what to share with you guys. As many of you likely know, Emily and I have actually traveled together – we took a road trip to Texas back in March to attend the Texas Style Council Conference (TxSCC). We were friends before, but this trip really brought us together something fierce. When you put four bloggers (some of whom had never met before) into a car for several days at a time, the potential for hating each other at the end was high.

Not only did we make it through alive, we’re better friends because of it! Here are some snaps from our trip:

There was a lot of snacking, laughing and goofing off on the drive...obligatory photo of her, taking a photo of me.

I can't quite recall why I took this photo, but I'm sure Emily would "ppreciat" the grammar (or lack thereof) happening at this Texas road stop. Thanks, Mojo.

When 4 hardcore thirfters (E, me, Merl, and Amanda) hardcore thrifters embark on a trip together, thrifting is a must. E and Merl trying on hats in Austin!

And of course, one of Emily and I! Shot on a very windy bridge in Austin.

Emily, Kendi, Yen, and Amanda

TxSCC was kind of like grown up summer camp. We stayed up late, had too much fun, and made fast friends with other internet pals we hadn’t met before. Saying goodbye to everyone at the end of our short trip was difficult, but we all promised to tweet each other often, and get together soon. If only we’d made friendship bracelets, too!

Packing Like a Pro

by Emily of The Other Emily

Hi there! I’m Emily -  not the tall-drink-of-water-Emily you may be used to, but author of the other emily and your first guest poster here on sartoriography while Emily’s on a well-earned vacation. I’m personally on a bit of a long-term vacation at the moment – I’m currently traveling Europe with my boyfriend on a fellowship, and we’ve now been on the road in one form or another for over six months. My time away from home (and my closet) has made me a little bit of a packing aficionado, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to share some of the biggest lessons I’ve learned so far on packing for a long trip.

1. Bring practical shoes

I know – gross, right? That phrase makes me cringe, but it’s true, probably the single most important packing decision is your shoes. Make sure you bring at least one pair of flat shoes that have real arch support. I thought I did a lot of walking in the US, but getting to and from my office in New York is *nothing* compared to the amount of walking I’m doing while traveling. I thought my ballet flats would be ok, but my feet start hurting if I walk more than an hour in those. It’s a good idea to have at least one other pair of shoes as well, in case the first ones get wet. In cooler weather, I really love boots for traveling, since they seem to dress up almost any outfit, and they’re easy to take off at airport security. Grab a pair or two of liner socks at REI or another outdoorsy store – you can get thin ones made of merino wool to wear under your regular socks, and they will make a HUGE difference in keeping your feet warm. It’s also not a bad idea to bring a pair of insoles – just make sure that if they are the gel kind, they’re not in your carry-on bag.

Nature abhors a vacuum – be sure to fill your shoes with smaller items like belts (or dirty socks and underwear, if we’re being honest). Every square inch of suitcase space counts, and it’ll help your shoes keep their shape.

2. Know thyself
It sounds odd, but try to remember to pack the way you dress. One of the things I really miscalculated on my first go-around was the number of pants I brought vs. skirts – I always feel better in a skirt (and tights, if necessary), but for some reason I brought a ton of pants and practically no skirts or dresses. After three days of pants-wearing, I get totally bored with my outfits and find it harder and harder to decide what to wear. When I was packing, pants seemed more ‘practical,’ so I ignored what years of experience should have taught me about my style and I didn’t pack a lot of things I later wished I had. Think about what you like wearing at home, and pack that – odds are that’s what you’ll want to wear while traveling too.

Don’t forget to keep out the clothes you plan to wear on your travel day – most airlines have a no-nudity policy. Bonus points for matching headphones.

3. Remember to remix

Try to pack items that can be worn in multiple ways and with several other items in your suitcase. If you have a certain sweater that you only like wearing with a particular skirt, odds are you’re only going to wear it once or maybe twice on your trip. If you bring things that have a little more versatility – like a jacket that can be belted, a dress that can layer over a button-down, or even a tee that looks good backwards – you’ll have many more options for ways to remix a few pieces into a lot of unique outfits. I generally find separates, cardigans, and button-down shirts easier to remix than dresses and t-shirts, and bright colors are more fun to mix and match than all-black or neutrals. Also, remember that when it comes to remixing, accessories are your friend. Belts, jewelry, scarves, and tights can totally make an outfit – and can usually all fit in a ziploc.

Build up progressive layers in your suitcase, padding delicate items like jewelry with clothes on all sides. Make sure to put bulky stuff, like purses, hairdryers, and bras in early to ensure you have enough room for everything.

4. Treat your clothes right

I’ve tried out a few packing methods at this point, and it’s definitely worth doing a ‘test run’ at home to see what works for you. At the beginning of our travels, I liked to pack with the really big ziploc slider bags – I just put a few folded items in each bag, then sit on them to squish out the air while I zip them closed. It keeps things folded and can really save a ridiculous amount of suitcase space. However, it will also make things wrinkly, and depending on the size and shape of your bag, you can end up with some awkward, underutilized leftover spaces. Lately I prefer to roll the majority of my clothes. It requires a little less planning (no divvying things up into a set number of bags), and I can more easily utilize every square inch of suitcase space. As soon as you get to your destination, unpack. Try your best to hang everything up, or shake things out and refold them to go in drawers. Keeping your things out and organized makes it a lot easier to see what you have and makes it easier to get dressed. Also, your clothes will look (and smell) so much fresher, even after a few wears. It’s also not a bad idea to bring a stain stick with you in case of red wine mishaps.

Be sure to roll up more delicate items (like nice silk blouses) inside sturdier garments for protection from snags. This also helps reduce wrinkles.

5. Leave some room!

If you are anything like me, you will go shopping. And then, you will probably go shopping again. Try not to pack your bag so full that you can’t fit in any incredible new finds – the front flap of my suitcase has a pocket that doubles in size by unzipping a zipper, so I made sure not to use up that extra space when packing. I know I’ll probably use it soon enough – and plus, it’s always nice to feel like the lady with the smallest bag at the airport!

All packed and ready to go! While it’s not strictly necessary to group all your pink garments at the top of your suitcase, it sure does look pretty, and that’s got to be worth something.

Feel like you’re ready for a trip?  Then head on over to The Other Emily!  And come back in a few days for another travel-related guest posts from Lisa of Archives Vintage.

Oooo, teaser!  That’s right, kids.  This is not a normal post.  Instead, it’s just a little sample of the sass I flashed over at Ordinarily Urbane, where I’m guest posting while Rach is on vacation.  Hit up her blog and see what I (and my ladies Lisa and Merl) have to say in her stead.

Here’s a hint for you: I wrote a little piece about travel.  And that’s what I’ll be doing in the next few weeks, traveling my little tail off between Chicago and the South.  As I’ve done with Rach, some ladies will be here in my place, starting with the appropriately named Emily of The Other Emily.  Come give these gals some love (but not, you know, THAT kind of love!).

PS: These are all 30 for 30 pieces.  I’m quietly working my way up to that glorious 10×3.

Dirty Leftist: skirt (available at Common Crow Vintage!), top (Urban Outfitters via thrift, $3), sandals (Target, $7), necklace (gift).

I’m sure you all know that, as a dirty lefty liberal, it’s my job to hate my country.  Thus, I did nothing fun for the Independence Day weekend, nor did I once give thanks for living in the US of A.  I did not wear the colors of the flag, I did not watch fireworks, and I did not stroll around a cute lakeside town, keeping my ear tuned to the sounds of a brass band.

Okay, that’s (mostly) a lie.  I did pretty much all that stuff I listed and more.  I ate sweet, sticky ice cream in Michigan; had a picnic at the lake in Chicago; played in the freezing water and on the hot rocks; mocked teenage dudes who nearly blew themselves up showing off with their fireworks; and generally enjoyed the shiz out of my long weekend.  And while it’s true that I’m a bit (ahem…massively) suspicious of rampant nationalism, I did celebrate the fact that this country has marked another year of its fascinating history.

I wore lots of things during the weekend, but as I was attempting to live life, not blog it, I only took a few outfit photos.  You have those here, as well as some recent photos from some of the sailing trips I’ve taken with Sean on his sailboat, The Kestrel.

First Mate Me on the deck of The Kestrel, with The Baby Sloth in the background.

Is that a mainsail between my legs, or am I just happy to see you?

My goobery eyes are closed in "I'm on a Boat" bliss.

I'm very serious when I'm the captain.

Chicago fireworks from the perfect spot outside Adler Planitarium

False alarm, folks!  Thanks to some unforeseen changes in my schedule, I’m back in Chicago.  All that biz about guest posts and being off the radar for a while?  Ignore that…or postpone it in your brains for about two weeks.  I’ll be heading back to the South soon, but in the meantime I’ll be pestering you all with the first few flashes of my 30 for 30 items.  I’m taking a laid back approach to the challenge this time- wearing them like mad, but not feeling like I have to post like mad, too- but don’t be surprised when you see the same clothes appearing over and over again.  That’s the plan, anyway.  I can’t say that it won’t change.

When I Leave: skirt (vintage, thrifted, cheap), Catcher in the Rye tee (gift, Out of Print Clothing), sandals (Target, $7), ring (c/o Lushae Jewelry).

You know who knows all about changed plans?  Holden Caulfield.  We have that in common (though not much else).  Despite having been an utterly angst-free teenager, I adore Catcher in the Rye.  Whether I was reading it in English class, on a bus in London, or stretched out under a tree in Namibia, Holden’s clever sarcasm and longing for innocence always moved me.  The timelessness of the story- one of  loss, confusion, and the need for closure (not to mention a fear of adulthood)- has meant that I appreciate it as much as 28 as I did at 16.  When my mom gave me this shirt last year, I couldn’t have been more nerd-style excited.  A merging of my brain with my style?  What could be better?!  This shirt fits like a dream, and I love it paired with this skirt.  I think the emotion of the story and the richness of the cover design stand out so well with the simplicity of the rest of the outfit.  For more tees of this sort, check out Out of Print Clothing or see how Tania has rocked hers.

These photos were taken as a sort of last hoorah with Clare, who has been my roommate for the past year.  As she moves on to new things and I move to my own place, we’re forced to say goodbye.  Thankfully, we got to do it with some closure, unlike Holden.  Thanks for a great year, Claiwe!!!

Sad faces w Clare. Bye, Claiwe!

Out of Office!

Dear Folks,

It’s that time again- the summer, when classes end, heat swells, and I try to escape the city for some much-needed family time in the country.  While I’m off galavanting in the land of Southern drawls and sweet tea, I’ll have some mega-hotties here to captivate you in my stead.  I may try to sneak in a post or two here or there, but for a few weeks the bulk of this blog’s awesomeness will exist in the form of the guest posts of some of my favorite gals.  Make sure to give them some love and make it seem justifiable that I asked them to use their precious time to make me look so good.  ;)

I’ll be back in the office in mid-July.  Until then, happy summering and happy getting dressed.

Nothing to Do with Anything: trouser jeans (Gap via thrift, $5), rust and lace tanks (H&M, $12ish), blazer (thrifted, $7), shoes (UO, $10), jewelz (Forever 21 and thrifted).

As I write this post, I’m listening to my roommate’s boyfriend* earnestly (and ineffectually) try to justify playing D&D- “It’s the most creative thing you’ll ever do in your life…”- while I recover from having eaten some pasta that freakishly involved a bar-b-que flavored sauce (bleck!).  I’m folded up on the couch, the backs of my knees warm on my toes, which are wedged in there in lieu of socks.  My living room is covered in stray tank tops and cardigans, strewn like little corpses around the graves of open boxes.  I spent most of my day packing up the obscene amount of clothing I own so that I can move it to my new apartment.  It seems stupid and counter-intuitive to neatly pack something that’s just going five blocks down the street, but such is the logic of urban living.

Even in my mad pack-straveganza I did manage to put aside at least one lace item to wear for this month’s EBEW.  I love the peachy, rusty, pinky color palate of this outfit and how it looks against the stone of this building, probably my favorite in my neighborhood.  Even if I am in the suck-face world of packing, at least I get to dig out fun things to wear for en mass get-dressed fests.  That’s the silver (errr…pinkish?) lining of this lame-o cloud.

Photos taken by this guy.

*Mocking of said boyfriend is good-natured and affectionate.  Don’t be offended, Nate.  :)

Mist Witch: trousers (H&M Glasgow, 9 pounds), silk top (thrifted, $1), blazer (vintage Armani, thrifted, $3), neclace (H&M, $3), earrings (OI at UChicago, $20), shoes (UO, $10), mist (Magic Land).

I have a sort of strange love of fog and mist.  Maybe it comes from a childhood steeped in Lord of the Rings and Gothic novels (and so an obsession with far-off and exotic-sounding places like “The Moors”).  Or perhaps it’s the memory of the woods and fields behind my parents’ house, flooded with lost clouds on some mornings.  It could be the year I spent in Scotland, a veritable paradise of weather-obscured beauty.  Or maybe it’s just that mist is pretty.

Regardless, I get unusually excited on those days this one, when Chicago turns into its Gotham counterpart and people emerge through walls of white air, bike bells ring from invisible places.  It seems to me that anything could happen on these days, that some magic event is waiting just past where my eyes can see.  And what better outfit to wear for magic than lots of black and some animal print?  This is, I’ve decided, the get-up of a modern day mist witch (negative connotation discarded).

1: World surround sound that plays music specifically designated by my preferences and the context of the given moment.  When I’m kayaking, there will be Mumford and Sons blasting away as I’m speeding down the river.  When I’m running, the world will play Rihanna, Kanye West, and Wisin and Yandel.  When I’m studying, Lali Puna, Oliver Mtukudzi and Ali Farke Toure.  When I’m in love, Bon Iver and Jeff Buckley.  It’s like in the movies, except it’s in my life.  You get the idea, right?

2: A palace of cheese.  I would not live in said palace; I’d simply eat away at it slowly, wall by wall.  This palace would always be delicious, would never mold, and would never suffer the elements.

3: A never-ending supply of bendy straws, from which I’d drink my never ending supply of sweet tea.  Also, a never ending supply of watermelon, which will be eaten both before, during, and after the walls of my cheese house.

4: An inexhaustible supply of books by my favorite writers.  No matter how many Michael Ondatje novels or Susan Buck-Morss analyses I read, there’d always be more.  This would also be good for the writers’ bank accounts and legacies.  I’m not totally selfish, it turns out.

5: A car that resembles the Pope mobile that would take me anywhere I needed to go.  Except it wouldn’t use gas or anything else that’s bad for the environment.  It’d just have one of those clear bubble bodies from which I’d charmingly wave to passersby.

6: An amazingly talented photographer who takes all my blog photos for me and edits out all the ones in which I look like a total fool.  (I’d wish for only perfect pictures, but a: that’s a bit boring and b: it’s not possible for this to happen even in my ideal world.  Have you seen the face I make?!).

My Ideal World: dress (Old Navy years ago, $15), shoes (a total steal- $30, were $430!), jewelz (various).

Sadly, most of these things are likely never to come true (most.  Palace of cheese?  Definitely!).  However, having Andrea take my photos for me once in a while is just about the equivalent of #6.  Her eye for a great shot and her willingness to slog through all the pictures she takes to find the best ones have resulted in some of my favorite posts.  All I have to do is wear something and stand there; everything else is all Andrea.  In the case of this post, we stood by the lake, I smiled and goofed off, and she made me look pretty.  THANKS, Andrea!!

A Cunning-ham: dress (borrowed and thrifted), heels (Urban Outfitters, $15), belt (no idea, but I'm pretty sure it's mine), jewelz (various).

Sexy cut-outs in this fantastic dress!

Words of wisdom from Little Charlotte C Pants (the soon-t0-be three year old for whom I nanny): “Sometimes it’s nice to spend time with friends.  Because life can be complicated.  Sometimes you have drinks.”  Charlotte is right, people.  Spending with friends can be nice, and that’s just what I’ve been doing of late (s0metimes w drinks!).  In the last two weeks I’ve jammed with bloggers at Emma and Nikia’s Bill Cunningham party; photo’d it up in my hood with Lisa, Andrea, and Veronika; attended a blogger happy hour at the Randolph Street Market, and driven 20 hours in three days to dance at the wedding of some of my favorite former Chicagoans.  I may have also done some work, but I could be wrong.

Goofing off in m'hood with Andrea, Veronika, Lisa, and Clare

Blogger Happy Hour(s): dress (vintage, thrifted, $2), cardigan (Forever 21, $15), boots (random, $30), belt (H&M, $4) wristband (awesomeness).

Just making sure they're still there...

with Leilani, Lisa, and Veronika

We're a bunch of hotties, right?

We're silly. It's awesome.

I’m hoarse from belting it out in the car, sunburnt from too much pool time, a bit exhausted from giggling at Andrea and Veronika, envious of Tieka’s amazing heels, and hung-over from happiness and a wealth of delicious cheese grits.  It has indeed been complicated, but pretty bloody great.  Could life get any better?  Well, I could have been doing all this AND be married to John Lennon.  Alas, I’ll have to stick with what I’ve got for now.

w my roommate Kelli at a Little Rock wedding. Aren't I impressively pink?!

Trying to hide my sunburn w Erin's scarf. Ladies all dressed in Anthropologie.

*Photos by Andrea, Veronika, Lisa, and this random guy at the wedding who was very nice.

Primary Colors: striped tank (H&M, $9), pleated skirt (Common Crow Vintage, $18), sandals (old as dirt), necklace (H&M, altered, $3), bracelet (gift from Morocco), bike (called Henrietta), pier (called my favorite place in Chicago).

Having (mostly) emerged from the dark and twisty recesses of my academical brain, I’m relieved to announce that a- there has been some warm weather in my fair city and b- I’ve got something to show for it.  My bike and I have become besties again, and lately I’ve logged some soul-rejuvenating (and coccyx-jarring) hours speeding  around the lake path.  I’ve struggled up and raced down all seven hills in a 10 mile radius of my apartment, and I haven’t crashed even once!  Yes, I’m awkwardly patting myself on the back right now.  I’m typing with one hand.  It’s hard.

That's my sexy lady, Henrietta. She's seen better days, but who doesn't love a matron up in her mix?

This weekend m’man Sean and I took a leisurely ride down to this primary-colored pier, where we basked in the sun and snapped some shots of my equally primary outfit.  I even risked death and drowning to climb around on the fantastic yellow ladders you see here.  Despite all the drama, I remained unscathed.  This is cause for only minor disappointment.

I'm a goober.

Glamour shot, what! The sun is in my eye- that's why I'm all glare-y.

Sean straight chilling in his mad stylish pastel/marlin/camo get-up.

After some lake-gazing and apple-eating we biked back into our neighborhood and happened across a street fair.  There was, strangely, a Beatles tribute band (mop tops and Sgt. Pepper suits included), so I sang obnoxiously in Sean’s general area while he ordered West Indian meats and I shunned him for ordering West Indian meats.  He consumed his goat, I maintained my vegetarian superiority, and we wrapped up a perfect summer day in the sun.

Sean and his meaty meats.

The meaty meats in question. Someone killed a chicken AND a goat for this man's gustatory happiness.

Other people who also love summer and somewhat terrible Beatles tribute bands.

Have you been rocking out to the warm weather in your neighborhood?  Anyone else snacking on something delicious or singing some great songs lately?

Missing Person: maxi dress (thrifted, $2), sandals (gift), jewelz (various places for way cheap), belt (borrowed/stolen).

The particular paper I’ve spent the last (too long) while writing is a bigger deal than normal.  It’s about a topic personally dear to me, it’s the first act of exploring my future dissertation, and it’s going to be peer reviewed by my closest colleagues.  Next week I’ll have a two hour session in which questions, critiques, and suggestions will all be aimed at my little paper.  Soooo…when I suddenly stopped commenting on your blog or posting on mine, this is what I’ve been doing.  (Note: I may have also been lost in the giant library of my university, but that was just that one time.  I generally have a great sense of direction.)

I’m happy to report that the paper is finished and I’ve finally resurfaced.  Today I took a giant nap in the sun (at first I left out the word “nap,” making for a very funny sentence) and rode my bike along the lake for miles.  I rolled up to the gate of my building just as the last note of “Ride of the Valkyries” ended.  How’s that for some Norse god and weird German composer-approved fun?!  Naps, biking, and mythologically inspried symphony- these are the pleasures of a person who woke from the frantic coma of academic writing to find that summer has arrived.  Oh, and maxi dresses and sandals and gleamy jewelry- those are for summer, too.

Dear Folks,

Apologies for my silence.  I haven’t abandoned you for awesome desert festivals or hanging with super heroes.  I’m neither sunning on the beach nor dancing under the moon.  Nope, I’m just writing a paper.  So, once this baby is edited and submitted (and, oh yeah, once I write the other 20 pages…), I’ll be back to you all.  Don’t give up on me!  And thanks for all your recent visits and comments, which I promise to return soon!!

-E

I apologize for how happy we look about being friends.

I know it can be obnoxious when bloggers blather on about how great other bloggers are.  It often appears either sycophantic and disingenuous or self-congratulatory and braggy-pants-y.  I really do get it.  But you’ll have to forgive me, because I’m about to be really obnoxious and talk about how straight-up awesome, ballin’ outrageous, killer fun it was to spend the day with Tania of What Would a Nerd Wear.

Book nerdin' it up at Powell's.

Orange jumpsuits and straw fedoras at H&M. We rocked those things like mad.

Trying to save my scarf from death on the train tracks. I failed.

Our love began over snarky academic jokes on Twitter and blossomed into real friendship over lunch wine, political indignation, book stalking, and donning day-glo jumpsuits at H&M.  I knew I was looking at a life commitment when at lunch it took three visits from the waitress before we stopped jabbering long enough to open our menus.  We talked about blogs, Derrida, dissertation topics, the suspicious “long noun” and representations of madness and gender in Jane Eyre…and that was just in the first 30 minutes.

A Conversation: skirt (thrifted, $1), top (stolen and therefore free), belt (thrifted, $3), boots (random, $30), socks (forgot, but they were obviously cheap).

I’ve been fortunate to meet and come to know a few other fantastic bloggers, but spending the day with Tania was especially awesome.  We live such similar lives, split between style blogging, book nerding and academic contemplation.  So much of our conversations were akin to my own rambling, just aloud and with another person.  Sometimes it’s really fantastic to talk to the J. Crew-model version of yourself.  :)

Holding a 1940's book of medical drawings from Powell's free box. Score!! Ring: H&M, $5ish

Bye bye, T!

Have you had the chance to meet and jam with other bloggers?  Any great experiences you want to share?  It’s only fair that I allow some payback after all this rhapsodizing.  :)

Simple: jeans (thrifted, $3), white button up (thrifted, $1), suede loafers (thrifted, $3), belt (thrifted, .25)

A simple life is a good life.  As much as I love beautiful clutter, a packed calendar, and the motivating potential of stress (I am a grad student, after all), sometimes there’s nothing better than a calm day to myself.  I treasure the times when hours stretch out before me with nothing to fill them but reading, thinking, and sitting in the sun.  It’s those times when my mind empties itself of the frenetic vocabulary of everyday life and I’m pared down to the best and most steady parts of myself.

This outfit is my sartorial equivalent of the simple life.  The lines are clean and straightforward, for the most part, and the colors hold no mystery.  It’s fresh and uncomplicated, with just a bit of sass from the belt.  It echoes the streamlining going on in other areas of my world- doing a raw food cleanse, taking one less class, working fewer hours, enjoying little things like pretty glass bottles and sitting on the couch in the sun.  And that all of the pieces are thrifted (something I only just realized) is the perfect testament to how much I want my life to be about transformation and intention, not just letting some over-priced and irresponsibly made clothes dress my bod because they’re easy and in my face everywhere I go.

This outfit is intentionally simple and I love it for what it says about the inner parts of me as much as the outer.  Do your clothes reflect your mental or emotional states?  Anyone else trying to inject some calm into your life these days?

PS: I have no idea what it means for life to be “the hyphen between matter and spirit,” but I thank the Hare brothers for giving me something else to ponder.

Besties 4 Life: Susanah, Emily, and me

Happiness is a slippery devil.  It’s rare, I think, to actually know you’re happy when you’re happy.  It’s a state of being so longed for that most people seem to spend their time searching for it even when they have it, only to realize it was there it when it’s gone. And so I consider myself lucky to have spent the last week knowing, without a doubt, how very happy I am.  I love my life in general- I study something that fascinates me in a city I adore, I get to read and learn languages and travel for a living, I’m healthy and so is everyone I love, etc etc.  I’m content.  But then my two very best friends in the whole world came to visit me in Chicago and I realized on an entirely different level how very good life can be.

Slippery Devil: dress (Cider Dress, c/o Shabby Apple), blazer (vintage, New Bohemia in Austin, $20), tights (HUE), boots (random, $30), belt (thrifted, $3).

These ladies have been my best friends since we were children.  As girls and teenagers we studied together, wandered the woods together, cried over boys and applied to colleges together.  We made mixes, shared books, cooked a bajillion dinners, took road trips, and had shockingly few arguments.  We grew up, moved away, learned things about ourselves, changed into (supposed) adults. Through all that, they’ve been constants in my life.  Despite years in different cities and even on different continents, we’ve remained the closest I’ve ever been to two other people in my life.  And though we don’t see each other as often as we’d like, I have no question that these women will be, for the rest of my life, what most people mean when they use that cheesy phrase “my soulmate.”  Lucky me; I have two.

Making blogger faces with Emily.

These shots were taken in downtown Chicago when we went for brunch and shopping and goofing off as only girlfriends can do.  I chose this Shabby Apple dress because it’s incredibly comfortable, has fun little details, and actually covers m’parts, unlike lots of dresses for sale these days.  Looking at the photos now, though, I wonder if I was drawn to it because of how radiant a color it is.  It reflects, on some level, the joy that is being lost in the world of childhood memories, inside jokes, rambling conversations, and the unchanging happiness of honest to goodness love.

The purple zipper may be my favorite part of this entire dress.

My most favorite gals.

In honor of the joy of friendship (or maybe just because it seems like a wise move), Shabby Apple is offering all sartoriography readers a 10% discount.  Check our their site and use the coupon code sartoriography10off to make friends with a new dress.  :)

***The dress in this post is worn courtesy of Shabby Apple.