Since When Did I Become A Fashionista??

I am a girl who has spent much of my life in a plaid shirt and blue jeans. While I love beautiful things, I never took the time to venture very far into the fashion world. In fact I could be downright disdainful about what I saw as the superficial nature of the fashion industry. Over the years I’ve come to better appreciate the artistry in a piece of well designed and constructed clothing, but I still would never spend gads of money on it. Almost everything I own that is of enduring quality I have either hand-made or purchased second-hand.

But for some strange reason, I seem to have become somewhat of a fashionista at work. Some co-workers will start up conversations with me about designer bags or shoes, or they’ll stop me in the hall to ask me about what I happen to be wearing that day. And…people are starting to give me things out of the blue!

For instance, a co-worker recently came to me with a dress and jacket that her grandmother had purchased 40 plus years ago. This sage-green creation is stunning, with exquisite craftsmanship. It is made of silk and has all hand beading down the front of the dress. The photos I am posting here just don’t do it justice. And it fits me like a glove. My co-worker said when she rescued the dress from her gramma’s things (I guess it was headed for the dump) she thought of me and knew it would look good with my red hair and pale skin.

I will wait until I can travel down south to have it cleaned, as the local dry cleaners said they wouldn’t clean it for fear the beads would fall off. I can’t wait to find an occasion to wear it! When I am done with it I will give it back to my co-worker, since she has a two year old daughter whom I suspect will one day appreciate owning something that was worn by her great-gramma.

Stupid camera! Can't get a decent shot.

The second rather astonishing thing to happen to me took place yesterday. My husband teaches English as a Second Language to adults. One of his students used to sell women’s costume jewelry in Europe. Even though this student has never met me, he sent home to me through Joe not one but eleven sets of jewelry! I am flabbergasted by his generosity. I would like to share some of the pieces with my friends but I don’t want him to think I don’t like them, so I’ll need to tread carefully. Isn’t life amazing?!

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2 thoughts on “Since When Did I Become A Fashionista??

  1. I’m with you! I like to look good, but I am vaguely disgusted by people who make fashion their number-one priority. I know, it’s judgmental, but it seems to me if fashion is your prime concern in life, you lack depth, y’know?

    But now, you’ve got me thinking! I have a BEAUTIFUL pale indigo hand-crocheted sweater that Michael’s dear, dear Granny made. She recently passed away, so there will never be any more, that’s certain. Michael’s mom passed it on to me because it didn’t fit her and I haven’t worn it in the two or three years I’ve had it because it’s really just not my style. I brought it to work to see if I could find any takers who would truly love it, but it didn’t seem to suit anyone. But maybe it would suit you???

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  2. Fawn, I don’t know what to say! Are you certain that Michael is OK with his grandmother’s sweater going outside the family? There is something very intimate about owning a piece of clothing that has been worn (and in this case made) by a loved one. I have a dress that my mother wore when she was a young adult, and it still smells like her all these years later (the dress is probably over sixty years old!). She was a larger size than me plus the colours don’t suit me, but I can’t seem to let that dress go.

    I would love to see the sweater if nothing else, and if it suited me in terms of size and style, AND if Michael was comfortable with the idea, I would be honoured to borrow it. But like the dress from my co-worker, I would want it to go back to your girls. From what Michael has written about his grandmother, she was a pretty special woman and your daughters may want to have the sweater as a way of keeping her in their hearts.

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