Style, minimalism, and grief

Style Diary

Thoughts on style, moderationism, and grief.

JUL 9–15, 2018

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Monday

July 9, 2018

So I picked up these Elizabeth Suzann black linen clydes from another wearer. I wanted to try them out in a 4T since I have them in flax in 6T and find they stretch a good bit with wear. This is day one of wearing them and I can't put my finger on it, but something feels off with the fit.

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Tuesday

July 10, 2018

Day 2 trying out the clydes again and I think I decided I should go for a 4 regular instead of tall. For some reason the rise feels much taller than in the 6T. Who knows! All I know is when I decide to move on, I want to move on immediately. Listed these for sale and they are gone now!

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Wednesday

July 11, 2018

Ah, my Black Crane carpenter pants. So good for lounging but acceptable for leaving the house as well. A real multi-purpose pant.

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Thursday

July 12, 2018

This outfit was a mistake. The long silk ES bel skirt was entirely too hot! Or maybe July is just too hot for the skirt? Either way. I found myself hiking it up past my knees in an effort to get a breeze going in the Atlanta humidity. I still like the look of this outfit but will be saving it until at least September.

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Friday

July 13, 2018

Felt great about this Osei-Duro dress! Total outfit repeat from last Friday (July 6, 2018), except I wore this to work and not a wedding rehearsal dinner. Got two compliments from strangers on my walk home, so win!

No weekend outfits. I mean, I wore clothes, but Saturday was spent working in the (un-climate-controlled) studio so that means short shorts and a crop top that are meant to get filthy, which they did. I found out my studio rent is increasing and I need to downsize my space in order to keep affording it. So boo, but my new spot is in the same warehouse, AND directly under a skylight, so yay.

Sunday I unintentionally spent almost the entirety of in a pool, so that's not half bad but also flip flops and a beach coverup don't make for an outfit really. Cut me a break.

In between the studio and the pool, I read the entirety of The Terrible by Yrsa Daley-Ward. It was phenomenal — evocative and minimal, heartbreaking and inspiring. An excerpt:

It takes six moments to write a thing…
1 you dream
2 you wake up
3 you sit down
4 you settle on the chair/bed/floor
5 you think what is
happening? is this the day
when nothing’ll come? is
this the end of it?
6 then you grip
your heart, involuntarily
and your soul comes up. Your
soul comes up, I’m telling you.
No such thing as a block, not really.
Your soul arises and you let it; or you don’t.
— Yrsa Daley-Ward

I came across Daley-Ward's writing on Instagram on Friday and was hooked. Hit up A Capella Books on my way home from the studio on Saturday, picked up a (signed!) copy of The Terrible, and couldn't put it down. Finished it Sunday night.

Now that I've devoured a handful of articles about the author, its funny to me that I found her on Instagram because so many of the headlines talk about her as an Instagram Poet, which I didn't realize was a thing. 

It got me thinking about Instagram as an artform. It's how I certainly like to think about it. Words and pictures are about as basic an artform as you can get, right? Look back at the history of writing and drawing. First the printing press, now the internet. Each one called the death of whatever came before it, but it's obvious to me that they are just the latest ways of expressing the ideas within yourself, and reaching the widest audience in the process.

Yrsa Daley-Ward goes on the record to encourage anyone with a story to write it. After all, you are the only person with your story. So what if you are telling your story on a platform that gets derided as superficial, fake, inauthentic. It doesn't have to be that way, not if you don't let it.

It makes me think of all the lovely people I follow on there, telling their stories about slow fashion or mental health or motherhood or art. I love reading all their stories. I'm so thankful they have the courage to tell them, even when it feels frivolous. It's always good to remember that by using your voice, you may reach someone who needed to hear it.