Fashion Or A Figment Of Your Imagination

I was tooling down the avenue early this morning when a woman stopped to say how chic I looked. Chic?  I had on my tight black pants that make me look like a matador,  an ancient L.L. Bean turtleneck under a hoodie with my beat-up Barbour jacket that I’m willing to the Smithsonian.  We mustn’t forget those festive pink running shoes bought on sale.

I’m like one big – don’t let this happen to you.

Her remark got me thinking, how different my fashion needs are compared to just a few years ago.  So happy to say I no longer have Prada disease.  In other words, you won’t see me drooling in front of their window salivating over the handbags.  I went back to my trusty Kate Spade Phil the shoemaker keeps patching threatening to put it out of its misery for both our sake.

I no longer have the need to go into debt so you think I’m drowning in wealth either.   I now prefer having signature pieces like my Barbour for instance.  It needs refurbishing yet again, but all its holes and rips make it mine.  They think I’m a little looney spending money annually on repairs. Get a new one, they always say, but they don’t make them as well as they did.  Before they were 10 ply, rugged and warm – now they’re about a 3, the quality taking a serious dip only someone with an old one would realize.

In my life before this when I kept company with a fashion conscious drunken spendthrift, my closets bulged.  Now they look anemic with empty hangers and spaces you could sit in.  Big bags went to charity, some resale.  There’s something Franciscan about having only jeans, leggins and one pair of good black pants even if they do look as if they come with a bull.

I still have quite a few shoes my reasoning being they are all flats in good shape, thanks to Phil who treats them like babies.  I did sell all my expensive heels except for two pair since I no longer need to rival one of the Knicks.

Less is more, even in the pajama, sleepwear department.  I love PJs but pared those down too.  My armoire looks as if it lost thirty pounds. And I ask you honestly, unless you’re seducing someone on the hour, do you really need 500 thongs?

My ex, who believes more is more would immediately offer to take me shopping even though we hardly speak if he knew my drawers were half empty.  Come on Susannah, how bout a roll in the hay and a little commerce for old times sake.

Chic?  Could be my attitude more than attire since owning less has put a bit more spring in my step, if the fucker ever gets here and stays more than a day.

I’m really starting to hate her, that Spring.

SB

 

 

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Fashion, humor, New York City, sexual relationships, Women and men and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

31 Responses to Fashion Or A Figment Of Your Imagination

  1. That ought to bring Spring around. Be angry! 😀

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  2. For whatever reason your new attitude reminded me of Pope Frank going into the vatican and ditching all those fancy hats with matching Gucci flats. It’s indeed liberating!
    You just have a chic look about you no matter what you are wearing and you can’t buy that at a store.
    I really love that you get your classics fixed. We are such a throw away society, it’s nice to know some of us still care and at least one shoemaker remains on this earth!

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  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    According to the weather report, Spring finally starts tomorrow! As for clothes, quality trumps quantity every time. And the ‘Chic’ comment probably was due to attitude more than ensemble. Maybe you’re like the proverbial French women who can look fashionable in a grain sack!

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  4. micklively says:

    You already know what I think about fashion.
    A beautiful woman will look beautiful in a bin-bag. An ugly woman will look ugly in an expensive outfit. This is how and why models ply their trade. So you look chic in whatever you put on: no surprise.

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  5. Getting older helps too. I’m going to a fancy dinner party next week and will wear the same thing I wore 5 years ago. I love it. It’s warm in case the weather isn’t and everyone there is old so no one will remember. Can’t believe you had 500 thongs but who is counting!

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  6. Elle Knowles says:

    I think with age we tend to pare down a bit. Been spring cleaning and getting rid of lots I just don’t wear anymore. (Yes, it is finally spring in the Florida Panhandle! Wish I could bottle some for you.)Also, with the size of my closets in this house I have no room. ;( ~Elle

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  7. This is the time of the year where I dislike my closet, and my dresser… I am certain you did look chic… went to dinner last night and just felt frumpy… and old. Loved this, made me rethink my attitude. Thanks!

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  8. RE: high school reunion “I could never go to one of those…I mean it. I’d have to wear a veil”. Nonsense. None of us are eighteen anymore.
    I still you like to sit next to you. 500 thongs ! 😛😛😛

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  9. 500 thongs – I can’t type or spell .

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