Belts

Daniel: Hey, what kind of belt do you have?
Miyagi: Canvas. JC Penney, $3.98. You like?
Daniel: No, I meant...
Miyagi: In Okinawa, belt mean no need rope to hold up pants.
--- The Karate Kid.

Yes, “belt mean no need rope to hold up pants”, but a belt also means cinching in that waist, gathering that loose shirt in and wrapping those hips.

Many of Nina’s items in “The One Hundred” sound like the bleeding obvious, but it’s the bleeding obvious that can easily get overlooked. Belts are definitely one of these.

A long cardigan worn with a long skirt looks dowdy. Wrap it up with a thin belt at the waist and the dowdy magically evaporates.

You can’t tuck your t-shirt into your jeans unless you’re wearing a belt. Well, not without looking like a complete dag. Add a belt. Instant de-dag.

Your silk blouse and pencil skirt looks OK. Cinch a wide, elasticised belt around the middle for immediate drama and style.

That basic LBD you have is lovely. Sling a loose gold chain belt around it and suddenly, it’s fabulous.

It’s actually bit spooky.

Nina writes, “Think of your belts as pieces of jewelry.” This is good thinking when they are patterned or have elaborate buckles, but I tend to keep belts simple and think of them more as structural pieces than decorative. They define shape when worn tight, and draw focus when worn loose.

I don’t have too much of a waist, and I wear a lot of low-waisted, wide-legged trousers, and these demand skinny belts to finish them off. I rely on tailoring and belts to give me shape and finish my outfits.

And, yes, belts also hold my pants up :-)

Bangles

My jewellery storage is slowing taking over the dresser. I place the blame firmly at Nina’s ballet-flatted feet. I also blame Nina for my growing bakelite bangle collection. Bakelite bangle collection is an expensive habit to encourage. It’s almost criminal. I should be seeking compensation! Beware! And don’t bid against me on ebay!

One compensation is that the choice of bangles can make a fundamental change to an outfit. Think about wearing a white tee, blue jeans, black boots and:

« A single wide, bright turquoise bangle
« A large black, silver-studded bangle
« Ten (or more!) thin silver bangles
« Three chunky gold bangles.

Bangles can move you from classic to rocker to summery to luxe and back again with the flick of a wrist. The image of Nina running back to her old wardrobe to retrieve just that right bangle is definitely one I understand. Bangles make my One Hundred as well.

Ballet Flat

Fashion is always contrary. In the time of the sky-high, sexed-up Amazonian heel, the demure and dainty ballet flat is its necessary antithesis. Or, you could take the view that fashion is a natural system, and therefore with the ballet flat - or any simple flat - comes balance and order.

The natural predator of the ballet flat is the stiletto, but each species of footwear does best in its natural habitat. In the urban jungle, the stiletto’s sharp spike and outright aggression will win on refined flat surfaces, including board rooms and dance floors, everytime. We all have the bruises to prove it.

But the simple flat shoe thrives in the cobbled alleys and uneven paving of the wild outdoors (even if they’re in the middle of a city). The heel cannot compete over the distances the flat can travel, nor the length of wear that day’s errands can take. They’re casual and comfortable, and they’re also neat without looking chunky or “orthotic”. The right pair will go from day to evening without even adjusting its bow.

I have a few simple flats, some very “ballet” with the whole bow decoration, and some not. Wittner do fantastic flats with slightly more generous-than-usual widths and toe boxes (can I just state here for the record that I’m averse to toe cleavage? Coin slots are coin slots, no matter if they're at the back of your dacks, down the front of your chest, or poking out of your shoes). Camper make excellent flats, with their “Twins” editions especially charming.

A mate of mine swears by Sambags. For this summer, I’m keen to check out the canvas Walnuts. There are so many different styles and fits, there’s no reason to go around looking like you’re wearing a fashion “uniform”.

Aviators

Nina is right, of course: aviator sunglasses are cool. Tyler Durden wears them in Fight Club. Can’t get much cooler.

However, none of the aviator sunglasses I have seen actually suit me. They just don’t suit everyone. The classic shape looks terrible on my round face. I need squarer frames. Maybe I should try these?

Anyway, I’m dressing, not dressing up. I’m not trying to look like Angelina Jolie or Kate Hudson. I’m trying to look like me, cool or otherwise (mostly otherwise, admittedly). Does it matter how many movie stars wear them, or how many movies they’ve been in? None of that matters at all when it comes to putting the sunglasses on my face. Maybe wire-framed sunglasses are a Must, but not aviators in particular.

In My One Hundred, aviators are replaced with Big Black Sunglasses. Can’t go past those babies. They look good on the beach, at lunch, at a barbecue, and on top of your head pulling your hair back. They come in all different shapes, sizes and styles to suit your mood and your face. They let you look out without others looking in. They provide a little privacy when in public. They allow you to look cool, calm and insouicant.

Anna Wintour knows it.

Audrey Hepburn knew it.

Jackie Kennedy knew it.

Indispensible.

Ankle Bootie

I think Nina is talking here about the so-called “shoe-boot”, a boot which ends on or below the ankle, not above it, like my Sandler “Bankers” with ribbon laces.

However, my go-to boots are True Ankle Boots, stopping above the ankle, worn under trousers and jeans. I must have gone through 15 pairs over the past 10 years. Why so many?

I wear them ALL the time. In winter, this might be every day of every week for months.

I am the Despair of Shoes, the Destructor Of Footwear! I don’t know what it is that I do. I just wreck them. I polish them and clean them and store them in boxes and re-sole them… and they repay me by cracking, tearing, getting out of shape and falling apart in the most unexpected ways.

I have wide feet, and any footwear I’m going to have to wear for very long has to be comfortably wide as well. So far, this has meant buying boots which seem to be designed to fall apart in a season. Diana Ferrari SuperSoft boots and shoes fall apart on me quickly and without fail, and I refuse to buy any more of them. Sandler Easy Steps are a bit more robust and are my current everyday pair, rapidly deteriorating. I managed to destroy not one but TWO pairs of Oliver steel-capped safety boots within a few wears, leaving bits of them all over mine sites on two continents like trails of breadcrumbs. Apparently my problem was not wearing them enough! I can’t win!

Aside from my everyday mid-heel ankle boots and a casual flat pair of Camper Spirals, I also keep a pair of Wittner’s Luxe Baby boots on hand (on foot?). They are vertigo-inducing, but sooooo lovely.

Nice, eh?

Animal Print

I’m not a huge fan of animal print. On some people it looks fabulous, but I don’t think everyone can carry off too much of it. Animal print makes a bold statement. It’s attention grabbing, wild and, well, animal. It needs to be done just right, or not at all. As Nina says:

“… there is a fine line between looking chic and looking tawdry when wearing an animal print.”

Yes:

Yes:

And, ummm…. No:

I only have two things with animal print on them:

A light, soft blue scarf I got off ebay:

A beat-up pair of suede flats:

There’s ways and ways of wearing it. The women working at the Hula Bula Bar truly rock leopard print. They’re funky and cool and lovely and wonderful and digging it. I love it on them, especially the leopard print tights.

I don’t wear animal print with the confidence it demands. Maybe I just don’t trust myself not to end up looking skanky. I’m OK with incorporating just a bit of animal print here and there, accessory-wise in particular, e.g. a zebra-stripe bag. Tiger stripe the same. Ocelot… hmmm. Giraffe….ummm… no. Best left to giraffes. They do it the best.

Do I like animal print? Sure!

Do I think animal print is essential? No. There’s not a single type of print – check, graphic, floral – that I would consider essential. It’s essential to have some kind of Print in the wardrobe somewhere, but not necessarily animal print.

A-line Dress

OK, this is the first item in The One Hundred, so it appears like we’re off to a Very. Bad. Start.

Nina Garcia says:

“With a good A-line, the fabric flows over perceived flaws or imperfections.”

With any true A-line, the fabric will probably hang from the widest point, meaning it will use boobs as overhang, “tenting” out rather than skimming over anything. They’re also not so great if you don’t like your legs (although opaque tights are miracle workers, really). A-lines are wonderful if you have a few lower-body lumps and bumps you’d like to disguise.

The A-line dress is certainly not for all body shapes, and certainly not for mine. It does not balance out a top-heavy silhouette; we are human beings, not 2-D geometric figures! Before reading Nina Garcia’s book, however, I was in need of such a go-to item, although I didn’t know it. I knew I needed something, because some occasions left me tearing my hair out at what to wear. Nina (from now on I’m going to call her by her first name, what the hell) pointed me in the right direction – a pull-on-at-a-moment’s-notice, go-anywhere, dress-up, dress-down kind of dress.

In fact, I found two!

The first is a Jane Lamerton boat-neck patterned shift. It appears to me to draw inspiration from a Chloe dress with a similar pattern, but is longer and in a jersey:

Boat-necks can be “iffy” on me as I have large shoulders and a reasonable bust. However, this one has enough weight in the fabric to be reasonably forgiving. Also, a higher neckline can cover a less-than-perfect decollatage, so it’s pretty handy.

The second dress is a Diane Von Furstenburg pull-on silk jersey dress. It’s a very “day” dress due to the pattern and navy colour, and so not as versatile as the Lamerton. The v-neck is more flattering on me, but the ruching around the bust is slightly problematic, but isn’t a huge issue:

The straight skirt is flattering and simple, and isn’t subject to the whims of the strong winds which my town can experience.

These two dresses are basically Shift Dresses, and together see me covered for all sorts of occasions: work, work events, casual weddings, cocktails, parties, etc. I’m not a big dress-wearer, but they’re good to have on hand.

A Little Note on Current Dress Design and Human Anatomy:

Now, what I like about being in my 40s, is that now I know what I like and am more confident in what suits me. For instance, I don’t wear (or buy) empire line or high-waisted dresses, despite the fact that 98% of all dresses in stores have for the past 3 years been empire line. Why every single designer and manufacturer would choose to churn out the same single style for years on end to the exclusion of all others is a bit mystifying. For reference, my waist is somewhere between my ribs and my hips, not under my armpits or directly under my boobs or around my ribcage. Crazy, I know.

My One Hundred

"I have NOTHING to wear. Well, I could wear that but I'd have to wear a cami under it because that bloke Geoff is such a perve. Or I could wear that but it would be too hot for the afternoon. Or I could wear that but it's a bit tight around the arms. Or I could wear that but ... "

But, but, but.

For so long now, I’ve been struggling with my wardrobe. It’s been a lifetime tussle, and a really silly struggle to have. A wardrobe should function. A wardrobe should simply work. It might also be fun, and be satisfying, and be beautiful, but primarily, it should work.

I should be able to open a drawer, reach in, grab something, pull it on, and walk out the door without having to think about it. Well, that’s what I think, anyway! (Maybe I'm just lazy?)

Surely, there are much more important things to think about (and, no, not just shoes).So here I am, obviously, devoting an entire blog to it. Yeah, the irony. Shouldn’t it be easy? Dressing sure seems easy for some people: the ones who always look comfortable, the ones who seem completely prepared for the weather with just a flourish of a scarf or a turn of their collar. Meanwhile, the rest of us spend our day constantly pulling tops down, hitching trousers up, tweaking shoulder straps, tugging at collars, and adjusting lapels like a bunch of costumed apes with nervous disorders.

Of course, there’s always that little law of the universe that says that if something looks effortless, it’s only due to the skill of the person performing it. A circus performer makes the difficult look easy and natural, and makes the easy look like a work of art. The circus performer example is very close to home for me, as I’m certain that my wardrobe mistakes have made me look like a complete clown on many more than one occasion. I look back to the horrors of my twenties and cringe. I’ve never looked better, or worse. What a waste of thin thighs! What a waste of a waist! Can I just blame the 80s?

In desperation at getting my wardrobe in order, I’ve looked at capsule wardrobes (more on them later), instigated the 18-month rule (more on that later, too), googled my little heart out, and read Nina Garcia’s handy little books, The Little Black Book of Style, The Style Strategy, and The One Hundred.

"The One Hundred" is subtitled, "A Guide to the Pieces Every Stylish Woman Must Own". Now, I don't think I'm anywhere near the level of style this book describes, but I am trying to make things easier on myself, using "The One Hundred" as my guide. This blog is going to go through each item of Garcia’s One Hundred and how it has related to me. Not to an 18 year old uni student. Not to a New York socialite. Not to a London banker. Not to a country town mother of three. Just me.

By way of providing a bit of personal context:

• I am Australian, living in Australia. I use Australian English, which includes everyday words which non-Australians would call slang. For instance, “cossie” is short for “swimming costume”, which is your bathers, swimwear, trunks, togs, swimmers, etc, etc. If you need to look up a word which you suspect might be slang, see here or here.
  

• I’m an adult. I will probably be swearing in this blog when circumstances call for it. For instance, if you take offence to the occasional f-word (not "fashion"), read no further.
  

• I’m a professional inner-city dweller. I contract from business to business. I like diving, skiing, theatre and food. I go on the occasional holiday and road trip “up north”. I drive. I backpack.

• I don’t work in fashion. I don’t and can’t spend tens of thousands on clothes every year. I don’t own any haute couture, not that I don’t admire it deeply. I live in a small Australian city without access to such fashion heavens as Harvey Nichols or Bloomingdales. Finding the perfect thing is not always easy in a town overloaded with chain stores. It’s not that there aren’t brilliant designers and fresh fashion talent here (There is! And it’s wonderful!), but a small and isolated population can have a hard time supporting the variety seen in larger cities.

• Nina Garcia's books have been a great help and inspiration to me and this blog is not negative criticism of Nina Garcia’s work, her personal style, or her person. It’s my view and experience of the items in her One Hundred. Ms Garcia does say in her book that the list is her list of essential pieces, and that it’s not going to be the same for everyone. We are urged to think of what our personal One Hundred would be. And that’s what this blog is about. To each their own. To quote the woman herself, “There is no ultimate list.”

• I hate ironing.