It's the hat.

via ads of the world.

I'll file this one under "vindications of the importance of accessories."


old clothes

A weekend visit to Edith Machinist (the mahvelous vintage store whose eponymic owner [or is it the other way around?] just randomly happens to be the daughter of my mother's decades-ago dissertation adviser) turned up a truly amazing white heavy-linen a-line trapeze dress with a boatneck and single-button placket and then holy shit when you look at the tag you realize it is from 1890 and it is in fact underwear and the red embroidered initials are not some fashiony flourish but are in fact the initials of its presumably now-dead owner who probably was personally acquainted with the Civil War. And then you try it on and it fits perfectly even though you are the size of a house and then you have an awesome conversation with Edith about how it is basically a museum-quality piece and how it totally looks like an avant-garde anti-fashion dress made by someone like Marni or Prada and yet it is cooler to the power of seven kinds of infinity because it is from the freaking goddamn nineteenth century. So of course it had to get bought. Boughten. Boughtest.

Anyhow, I put it on to wear this morning but then chickened out, because I'm not yet sure how to get the effect of carrying around a sign that reads "ask me about my 120-year-old dress!" without, you know, actually carrying that precise sign. Also I will probably spill something very un-1890s on it, like Kraft Mac-n-Cheese or a spicy tuna roll, and Edith (who is lovely & awesome) will somehow find out, and will chastise me, and I will feel bad because I let her down.

Rest assured, however, that when I do work up the nerve to wear a dress older than my grandparents' parents, there will be a drawing, and lots of exclamation points.


fashion, celebrities, the olsen twins, nazis, escandalo

Blah blah blah I like clothes. But check out the awesomeness that comprises the tags for this post: fashion, celebrities, the olsen twins, nazis, escandalo. HOW CAN YOU NOT READ ON?!


The Olsen twins have a fashion line. You probably already know this. In fact, you probably already know that they have two: the high-end one, The Row, where a tshirt is like seven hundred and fifty dollars, and the "mid-range" one, Elizabeth and James, where a tshirt is only like four hundred and twelve dollars. They're both actually pretty terrific-looking lines, and but for the fact that I personally am approximately the size of both Olsens put together, plus probably the Olsen mom and dad as well, and also but for the fact that I work in publishing and therefore am horribly, devastatingly poor ... But for these things, I might own some article of clothing designed by the Misses Michelle Tanner, and actually not be ashamed of that fact.

I buried the lede: The Olsens have designed a pair of silk hostess pants for their Elizabeth and James line. I would go on a tangent about the absurdity of "hostess pants" and their sartorial frenemy, the caftan, and how much I hate that Vogue et aliquid try really really hard to convince me that hostess pants and caftans are actually legitimate articles of clothing to be worn around friends and loved ones, perhaps while bringing to the table a gruyere souffle and a nice salad of some locally-sourced peppercress, and not in fact just pajama pants and a beach cover-up, which is in reality what hostess pants and caftans are. But this is not the time for that.

This is the time to point out that, per WhoWhatWear Daily, one of the colors in which you can buy The Hostess Pajama Pant (and snaps to MK&A for conceding at least that point) is Prussian Blue.

This is notable for two reasons:

1. While it has an actually pretty fascinating chemical history, "Prussian Blue" is best known for being the residue color left from the Zyklon-B used in the gas chambers of the Holocaust.

2. No, wait, actually, "Prussian Blue" is best known for being the name of the white supremacist pop-folk group fronted by eerily cute adolescent blonde twins Lynx and Lamb Gaede! Who are basically known around the internet as The Nazi Olsens! And who claim that their songs are just about topics their friends like! And who, oh wait, "claim not to be supremacists, but separatists, saying they want a homeland for white people and that being supremacist contradicts the ideology of separatism," so oh wait okay it is all totally fine now.

So call me crazy, dudes, but my thought is this: If I were the Olsens (or, like, half of them), I would probably not want my Hostess Pajama Pants (note: snack cakes?) furthering any sort of link between my Cute Twin Brand and the Nazi Cute Twin Brand.

But then again, the Olsens are billionaires, and I am a hundredaire (but only until rent is due!), so maybe they know what they are doing. L'holocaust, tres chic, non?