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femmefatalevibe · 9 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

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greenandhazy · 21 days

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I just queued up a post about sustainable fabrics and started to write something in the tags before realizing that it was drifting away from the point

but PSA: with the caveat that the most sustainable item of clothing is the one that's already in your closet, I would suggest that if you are someone who struggles with temperature regulation, you should seriously consider adding more linen and wool to your wardrobe. determining the "true" environmental impact of various fibers is v complicated, but for a start they both use significantly less water than conventional cotton, and imo the improvement they've had on my quality of life is well worth the substitution.

linen and wool are by far the best fabrics for temperature regulation--the former is lighter and more breathable than cotton and will keep you cooler in the summer, the latter is breathable but heavier and more insulating and will keep you warmer in the winter, even if it gets wet. (there's actually a saying among people who hike/do winter sports that "cotton kills" because you are more prone to hypothermia in cotton undergarments than in wool.) do not even get me started on linen/wool vs polyester.

this is something that I think is especially important given higher cost of heating lately, higher temperatures due to climate change, and the number of people who have health conditions or medications that make them sensitive to heat. this isn't to say that your clothing/bedding choices will compensate for a livable environment, but as someone who used to wake up 2-3 times a week sweating in synthetic sheets for four months of the year, and shiver in an inadequately heated room for another three, these little swaps can seriously make extreme temperatures a little more bearable.

that being said, wool and linen do tend to be more expensive, so if you're looking to get the most bang for your buck, I would recommend starting with:

linen sheets, even just a fitted sheet (some companies do sell them solo). overheating while sleeping is literally the worst.

linen pants, especially if you work in a job that doesn't allow you to wear shorts. linen shirts are also nice, but even cotton/poly shirts tend to be thinner than pants and might already be short-sleeved/you can roll up the sleeves, so the impact of pants will be more immediate.

a chunky wool sweater. avoid cashmere, and merino unless it has cables--these are very soft, lovely wools, but they're generally pretty light and made more for their softness than their insulation properties. for maximum warmth, you don't want a thin "office sweater," you want a "my Irish gran knit this in her cottage on the windy coast" sweater.

wool socks. these are more likely to keep you dry and warm if you're walking through slush or rain, in addition to just general walking-around-the-house warmth. for these I would say the type of wool matters a little less, generally because you do want socks that are somewhat lightweight so you can wear them in shoes. and just FYI you're also more likely to see wool socks blended with silk, nylon, or spandex for strength and elasticity, so don't drive yourself up the wall trying to find the mythical 100% wool sock. even hobby knitters tend to blend wool with something because of the amount of friction that wears on socks.

again! the most sustainable type of clothing is what you already own. but some of these are the kinds of small swaps you can definitely make over time, and you might find them genuinely helpful.

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

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A Christmas Journey ~ Tommy Shelby (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: A Journey back from London in the Christmas Season with his secretary doesn't go as planned

Note: written for @runnning-outof-time and her Holiday Bingo Challenge . You always have such incredible ideas for us to join in on celebrating your milestone - congratulations! I chose forced proximity, a family tradition, subtle hurt/comfort, and (self) confession

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 2473 words

The outside looked like one of these paintings one could buy in a collection to hang in some corner of a large room, a quiet, calm, peaceful scenery, an image of the countryside snoozing under a blanket of freshly fallen snow, coating field, house, and trees alike.

It was the kind of cold that ought to make one stark a fire and climb under a blanket, warm tea in hand.

Only it wasn’t a painting, and to Tommy Shelby, there was nothing calming about it.

The cold, especially a cold like this, meant problems, and problems meant a slowing of work, of traffic, of business. And he had neither time nor means for that.

The end of the year, of any year, meant hastily signed contracts, quickly closed deals before the new tax year would start, as well as end-of-year obligations, useless mingling for Christmas parties, dinners, company celebrations, and the like, as well as the demand of anyone and everyone wanting a piece of him.

It meant he was stretched out even more so than usual.

A particular contract that needed signing before the New Year had made him rush to London earlier today, taking only his suitcase and one of the Birmingham Secretaries with him. That way he had time to fill her in during the train ride there about what was going to be discussed in the meeting.

She was fairly new, and more a typist than a secretary, with quick, nimble fingers that could dance over the typewriter at a dizzying speed.

Now she was quite a sight, bundled up against the cold in a thick coat, with scarves and gloves, and a hat that drowned out her face.

She had taken those off once inside the train compartment and was now removing her coat as well, revealing what looked to be a home-knitted woolen cardigan.

Tommy glanced up from his reading, a business report about the annual revenues from one of his factories, as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, only to see she had changed her mind, instead offering him an embarrassed smile.

With a hum he returned to his reading, only to see her scoot about on her seat out of the corner of his eye.

“Mr. Shelby?”, she asked after a moment, unable to keep still “Is there any task you have for me during our ride back?”

Tommy considered for a moment, but there was no way she could transcribe with the bumpy up and down of the train, so he shook his head.

“Would it bother you if I did some knitting then?”, she asked, reaching for her hand.

“It’s a tradition in our family - my Ma’ always makes sure we get a new pair of socks in each year’s stocking and this time I wanted to surprise her with a pair of her own, even though it’s a bit foolish.”

She offered him an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not much good so I’ve had to start over.”

“Fine.”, Tommy grumbled.

What a silly gift, he thought, remembering the knitted socks from his earlier days. They had been warm enough, but not perfectly so.

Bothersome to mend, and too thick in good shoes, he had had no qualms about throwing them out a few years back in exchange for softer, more delicate Merino socks, which were just as warm.

“Thank you!”, she said, beaming from ear to ear as she reached into her bag and pulled out a ghastly dark red ball of wool, and two brown needles, a good half sock hanging from the edges.

Before she began, she scooted closer to the light source of their compartment, bringing her right across from him.

Tommy’s eyes returned to the numbers and comparisons, as the clicking began.

As if the rattling of the train hadn’t already been enough.

It was persisting, never-ending, click click click, click click, click click click.

After a few minutes, even the hiss of the wool made his jaw tighten in annoyance.

The lines on the paper became impossible to read with the neverending sound.

Click click click, click click click, hiss, click click click.

Always uneven, always unpredictable.

It was a sound to make a man go mad.

“I’ve changed my mind.”, Tommy said sharply, snapping the file shut. “Can you stop?”

She looked up, needles in hand, with thread wrapped around her finger, her eyes wide and round as dinner plates.

“Oh.”, she gasped surprised, staring at him in disbelief for a split second before she cleared her throat and nodded.

“Of course Mr. Shelby, I’m sorry, Sir.”

She scrambled to tidy up, hastily twisting the needles and sticking them back into the ball of wool as if she was afraid he’d open the window and toss it out if she wasn’t quick enough in the removal of his ire.

“No need to apologise.”, he mumbled.

The moment he opened the file again, they heard the brakes screech as the train came to a slow halt.

For a split second, there was silence all throughout the train. Then the both of them looked towards the window, seeing only darkness.

They were in the middle of nowhere.

Her whispered “Oh no.” gave voice to Tommy’s thought.

“Wh-what just happened?”, she asked breathlessly, her hands clutching onto her brown leather bag.

“I’ll see what the conductor says.”, he muttered as he got to his feet. “Just stay here.”

A delay was the last thing he needed when all he wanted was to get home, make the calls to Boston and New York, finish revising that speech, and - there was something else that he knew he had forgotten, but he knew it would come back to him.

But unless they got moving soon, it wouldn’t matter at all.

The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a train with a good half hundred strangers, and in a compartment with his little typist.

That strange feeling of irritation and subtle anger spurred him on as he walked nearly half of the train before he found someone in charge, already swarmed by a dozen other passengers.

He was lanky as a tree, with a narrow face and small piglike eyes.

“Please, Ladies and Gentlemen, stay calm!”, he assured them all, both palms outstretched. “Retake your seats, I am sure we will resume the journey shortly. There is no need to be concerned.”

That did little to block off the hail of questions, to which his only response was to flair his hands as if they were all little flies bothering him.

He had to practically shove them back into their respective compartments all the while nodding and repeating his meaningless babble over and over.

Tommy stopped his flight to the head of the train.

“What’s going on?”, he demanded to know.

“There is no need for concern!”, the conductor told him, “I am sure the journey will resume-”

“The name’s Shelby.”, Tommy hissed, undercutting any attempt of him to repeat his speech for the umpteenth time.

The man’s little eyes went wide.

“Oh, well, in that case, Sir, well,”, he began to stammer, wiping his hands on his uniform.

Tommy raised his brows in impatience, urging him on.

The man’s face turned the colour of his uniform.

“Due to the snow, Sir, they are having to clear a railroad switch ahead of us before we can continue safely. It will only be a moment Mr. Shelby, Sir.”

Tommy gave a single nod and patted him on the shoulder before returning to his compartment, thankfully first class, which meant it was mostly abandoned this time of night, with only his secretary being the other one.

“And?”, she asked breathlessly, getting up from her seat as soon as he entered.

“It’s fine.”, Tommy assured her, before sitting back down again.

Even though the door blocked out most of the noise, the restlessness and uncertainty found its way into their compartment, infecting first her and then him too, and more so with every passing second.

“You know,”, she mumbled after a near half-hour of tense silence and stolen glances out the window, “There’s stories about this happening in the United States. They can’t get the train to work again and the people freeze to death.”

“It’s not the train.”, Tommy told her.

Besides, it wasn’t that cold. Sure, it was chilly, but nothing compared to the winters spent in the trenches, unable to properly get a fire going. Here they were dry, with a roof over their head and coats and scarves to warm them.

His secretary didn’t seem convinced. She kept craning her neck to look out the glass door for any sight of any possible change, her hands nervously picking at her bag.

It was making him nervous too.

“We won’t freeze to death either.”, he assured her dryly.

“Are you sure? Because it already feels a lot colder if you think about it. And we are out in the middle of nowhere. No one will know where we are and-”

She shut herself off at the sight of his gaze and quickly averted her eyes, her hands still fidgeting nervously, her whole body shaking.

What an easy life she must’ve had for a mere thing like an unplanned train stop to put her in this state.

But then again, she was so young, part of this new, reckless generation who had been little more children during the war. And it was all too easy to paint the world a bit brighter for little ones, to hide the nasty truth behind soft lies and gentle facades.

And now the girl was unsettled by a little train delay, poor thing.

Tommy had suffered half a dozen a ride on the trains that carried him back and forth during his time in France.

Still, when she began trying to breathe heavily to steady her nerves, he felt a pang of pity in his chest. And her nervousness was beginning to irritate him.

“Why don’t you take up that knitting again?”, he asked.

“Oh no, I don’t want to annoy you.”, she quickly said, shaking her head.

Tommy huffed, a twitch in the corner of his lips.

“I’m not reading, so it won’t bother me.”

She was slow to reach for her bag, surveying his every reaction.

Tommy made sure to give none as she reached for her things, and slowly began to knit again, her eyes darting from her work to his face and back, eager to see any sign of disgruntlement.

But when she found none, she slowly settled into her knitting more and more, until she was fully focussed on that.

Tommy allowed himself to watch. The repetitiveness in the motion, even if the sound had irritated him earlier, seemed to calm him now.

Especially watching the tips of the needles work together, settled his heartbeat.

It wouldn’t be the most perfect sock, which was clear to see even now, but the longer Tommy watched, the more times she repeated it, the more he felt the idea growing on him.

But his words, or rather the fact that he said them out loud, even if it was just a mumble, surprised him.

“I don’t think it is foolish.”

The clicking stopped as she looked up.

“I beg your pardon, Sir?”, she asked.

“Earlier,”, Tommy explained, “You said I’d think it foolish. I don’t. It’s a sweet thing to do for your mother.”

She bit her lip and lowered her hands, growing flustered at his words, with a smile forming on her lips.

“Oh I don’t know.”, she admitted, “I do hope she likes it, but in the end it’s just a little part of Christmas. Our Christmas I mean.”

She offered him another shy smile.

“It’s not as grand as your Christmasses, I’d wager. With a ten-foot tree and a hundred baubles but it’s nice.”

Tommy hummed in response, as he let his eyes find the darkening landscape.

These days his Christmasses were like stepping into a glossy catalog, every inch of the house decorated, countless candles shining, a hoard of wrapped presents with large bows, steaming meals, and more sweets than anyone could ever eat in a whole year, let alone a few days. Every treat, every delicacy, it was all right there.

As it should be, a part of Tommy thought, the part that was proud of all he had achieved and that he could share it with his family, with his son. He alone would receive a dozen presents worth more than a factory worker’s annual wage.

But another part eyed those slightly uneven socks closer.

They were far from perfect, and yet every loop was laced with care and effort.

The memory of the socks his mother and Polly had knitted for him in years past, which he had thrown away as soon as he could afford to, made shame creep up his cheeks.

He already knew what he would get from them this year - cufflinks from Polly and a tie needle from Ada to match, expensive gifts, undoubtedly. Like every year.

Expensive, flashy gifts for an expensive flashy holiday. And that was it.

Nothing close to the memories of his childhood, even if they were feeble and poor in comparison, but at least they had been excited about it, about the food, about the oranges they would sometimes receive, about snow, even about the hymns they’d sing, less for the meaning and more of them all doing something together.

Singing together, cooking together, decorating together - and now the cooks did the cooking and the maids the decorating.

All Tommy did was pay. Like with any other day.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his chair and shook his thoughts.

There was no need to deprive Charlie of all the presents he could afford, anything he could enjoy. But perhaps the boy would want to do a little more than merely opening and receiving gifts.

Perhaps he’d like a little tree to decorate on his own, just a little one, even if it ended up not nearly as perfect as how Frances would instruct the maids to do it. But then again, those socks wouldn’t be perfect either.

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to enjoy the idea.

Maybe they could even take the horses out into the forest and he could pick one for them to cut down.

Just as it had taken hold in his mind, they heard a mechanic screech before the train slowly started moving.

“Oh thank God!”, the secretary cried out, dropping her needles in her lap and offering him a relieved smile.

But Tommy’s mind was already back in that snow-coated forest to the back of Arrow House in which Charlie would choose their Christmas tree. A proper one, not flashy and big, but real.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik

#valentineswritings #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #a christmas journey #k's 2.5k holiday BINGO challenge

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chic-a-gigot · 1 year

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Journal des Dames et des Modes, editie Frankfurt 28 Avril 1822, Costumes Parisiens (18). Collection of the Rijksmuseum, Netherlands

According to the accompanying text (pp. 495 and 496): Figs. 1: 'Bonnet à la duchesse' (hat). Dress with a crisscross bodice of 'barèges', garnished with festons of silk. Bracelets 'à la Néhula'. Mesh belt and rosette. White gloves and ditto shoes. fig. 2: Mesh hat decorated with flowers and trimmed with rouleau divided by satin buckles. Dress 'gallo-grecque ou en blouse' in merino wool with regular pleats. White gloves and lilac shoes. The print is part of the fashion magazine Journal des Dames et des Modes, published in Frankfurt as a copy of the French edition by Pierre de la Mésangère, Paris, 1797-1839.

#Journal des Dames et des Modes #19th century #1800s #1820s #1822 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #color #description #rijksmuseum #Frankfurt #Mésangère #ruff #collar

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jeanjauthor · 2 months

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Portals that "only" transport "organic matter"...

Just wanted to state something, because I Have Thoughts & Opinions on this one.

For all those stories where "portals cannot transport non-organic matter, so you arrive nekkid!!1!" ...dudes.

Just wear leather shoes with leather laces, and linen, cotton, or wool clothes. (They have some very nice merino wool undies these days, too!)

All of those are literally organics, so yes you can transport your clothes with you!

But that's deeaaaaaaad organics!!1!"

...if that were the case, then you would arrive with the outer layers of your skin completely flayed off your body, along with all of your hair down into your follicles. (The skin layer holding those hair follicle roots in place is the part that would be ablated off...so they'd just fall off as soon as you arrived. Aided by all the screaming & thrashing around you'd be doing from the sheer agony.)

So, yeah, writers, your can make your portals limit what your characters can take...but seriously, unless you want them to be screaming and in desperate need of instantaneous skin grafts that will never arrive in time (which is genuinely shitty writing)...just let them take their organic clothes with them.

And I would argue for metal zippers to be able to arrive, too, as if they have a placket over the zipper, it's similar to your flesh covering your calcium-rich (aka mineral, just like metal is a mineral) bones..Plastic zippers, they'd be screwed, though...oh no, but wait! Plastics are synthetic organics. They're artificially created, as in they don't appear in nature as such, but they are still organic materials.

So maybe the metal zippers wouldn't make it, but the plastic ones would...but if you're not sure, then just get button-fly jeans or somehing, mkay? And not the kind with rivets reinforcing various corners. Just sayin'.

...If you still insist on Stuff Getting Left Behind, then make 'em wear metal, squinch their eyes shut, and leave behind any living organics if it isn't completely covered in dead / non-living stuff. Aka one of those hazmat suit thingies might work. Or a genuine suit of plate armor, with enough overlap to prevent the Evil Anti-Life Beams from ravating your body Oh Noooooeeeessss!

Or get it left behind because of much more believable & practical reasons.

Luggage weight limits. (Seriously, airlines do it all the freakin' time!)

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justzawe · 1 year

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Merino wool sweater, blue jeans and grey shoes. So the question is Zawe dressing the baby like Daddy or is Tom just subconsciously doing the mini-me thing

Lol!

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theurbanhippieswe · 3 months

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MIXING COLOURS.

Some days I can feel it. Spring is on its way. But still I’m in need for proper layering. Under the M-65 jacket from The Real McCoy’s a cardigan from the same brand. Flannel shirt by Mr Freedom from the store Maritime Antiques in Copenhagen. And under that a sweater in merino wool by Formal Friday Clothing. The white Edwin jean I recently found at HepCat Store. Selvedge. Made in Japan. Loose Straight. Can’t ask for more.

Shoes by Lennertson Shoes. And Moscot Dahven eyewear in colour tortoise. As always from Brillor å Sånt.

Photo: @rahland

@therealmccoyscom

@misterfreedom

@maritimeantiques

@formalfridayclothing

@edwineurope

@hepcatstore

@lennertsonshoes

@moscotnyc

@brillorasant

@andersen_andersen_dk

#therealmccoysjp

#misterfreedom

#maritimeantiques

#edwinjeans

#hepcatstore

#lennertsonshoes

#moscotnyc

#brillorasant

#styleinmalmo #menswear #fashion #heritagestyle #pinterest #instagram #vintage #agingwithstyle #theurbanhippieswe #ruggedstyle #dailyruggedstyle

#ruggedguy #vintagestyle #fashionblogger #styleblogger

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botchallthethings · 5 months

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I'm in a bit of a weird place where I want to be the person who comes to the defense of non-"soft" wools and is devoted to fibers seen as "scratchy" compared to merino and alpaca, and gently pushes back on modern expectations of how a textile should feel. I also really like working with my springy, interesting wool so far...all the way until I have to touch the finished product, and then I'm torn.

See, what I forget about myself is that I'm very sensitive to sensation/touch, and I forget that about myself because I wasn't quite so obvious about it as my brother (who wore the same athletic shirt and gym shorts to school for years). However, I too completely refuse to wear things that cause mild discomfort (wore the same pair of shoes to highschool for years, cut out the tags on clothing, got rid of anything remotely scratchy, wear my hair up because i hate how it feels against my neck and face, etc).

So it's actually completely to be expected that I'm drawn to alpaca and am wary of making scratchy yarn. But a little disappointing.

To deal with this, I've been focused on different types of touch sensitivity. I read a book that made the (unqualified claim) that the palms were the most sensitive part of the body (they're wrong, I think--wouldn't try to read braille with my palms, for example, if I had that ability, because fingers are a lot better at reading and distinguishing that kind of texture, but right about how they are texture-pressure sensitive), and it made me think about how different parts of the body are sensitive in different ways.

For me, next-to-skin matters in two main places: elbows and neck (and ears, I guess). Those are the skin areas most likely to be distracted by texture. When making mittens, the part most likely to be itchy would be the wrists, I think. So if I focus on making those parts with the softest stuff I have, I can use the less soft stuff for the less sensitive areas.

#i'm such a wimp when it comes to scratchiness.#anyways i'm trying to remind myself that when i threw the ball iof yarn i spun at my roommate #her first reaction was to exclaim (surprised) it's soft!#and that was the wool-alpaca blend (as opposed to the straight alpaca)#i can tell if i brush it against my lips that there are rougher areas #but it IS soft #(the thing is that i also want to make lofty #and springy yarn #so the sort of limp lifeless top i have is soft but not actually what i want #whereas the springy medium-fine clun forest icelandic crossbreed #seems much better for the job #but i would not wear a 100% yarn made from it yet against my skin #except maybe mittens

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peterfieldsberlin · 2 years

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Here's a small selection of some of our favorite items, all crafted with passion by small and independent companies. Sustainable ✔️ Beautiful ✔️ Durable ✔️ We ship worldwide 📦 - Merino/Cashmere Blanket and Wool Scarf by @johnhanly1893 - Bag Musette Gaston in wheat by @bleudechauffe - Beanies in slate grey and graphite by @lebonnetamsterdam - Shoes Star Dribble cord brown by @novesta - Scented Candle and Soap Dispenser by @leschosessimplesco - Brass & Steel Scissors Large by @foglinenworkeurope - Wooden Frame and Glasses Tray by @puebco_japan - Pewter Letter Holder by #cositabellini - Leather Pouch in dark brown by @the_superiorlabor #home #homedecor #accessories #inspiration #lebonnetamsterdam #bleudechauffe #johnhanly #novesta #womenswear #menswear #giftideas #gifts #worldwideshipping #onlineshopping #peterfields https://www.instagram.com/p/CiXGCnIrq6m/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#cositabellini #home #homedecor #accessories #inspiration #lebonnetamsterdam #bleudechauffe #johnhanly #novesta #womenswear #menswear #giftideas #gifts #worldwideshipping #onlineshopping #peterfields

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nicklloydnow · 1 year

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““Stealth wealth” is the name given to the clothes worn by the extremely rich – very fine wools in navy or grey, oversized coats, tiny handbags, whites so bright they’re almost blue, a thousand shades of camel, a whole caravan of them, a palette that whispers “taste” with a little lisp. Logos are replaced with secret codes – a clever little stitch at the hem, or a hoodie made of cashmere.

Woven through these merino wools and pale suedes are the codes and strappings of a life where the wrong type of collar, for example, betrays you as a gatecrasher, a fraud. For years now, the fashion press has monitored and marketed these clothes to the rest of us, frauds every last one, with the unspoken promise that if we spend the equivalent of the price of a car on our new jumper, we too might gain access to a world that doesn’t want us.

(…)

Perhaps I would mind this “quiet luxury” less if the clothes were fabulous. But, instead, they’re bloodless, grandly bland, dreary. They speak of money, not taste; of fear, not joy. Why should the rest of us buy them – what good are the clothes without the power? If we’ve learned anything from our good friends in Succession, it is the true horrors of being wealthy, the boredom, the panic, the interminable snacks. Why would we want to cosplay as a billionaire when we know that to be so is to live without trust, without shame, to be monstrous? What sick trick are we playing on ourselves? It makes me wonder about our relationship to politicians, too – rather than making him unelectable, why does the cash and privilege of a billionaire like Sunak (who once visited a construction site wearing a pair of £490 Prada suede loafers) instead seem to inspire so many people to doff their caps and run to Selfridges? These people are ruining our lives, and our response is to buy their shoes?

(…)

Buying into “stealth wealth” feels like buying a band T-shirt, except the band are the worst people in the world, and the T-shirt costs the same as a month’s rent, and the music is them laughing as they shout “Eat shit” from a car. With the greatest respect, no thank you.”

#wealth #stealth wealth #illth #gwyneth paltrow #fashion #class #succession #billionaires #false consciousness

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granolaspaceship · 2 years

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How to Dress for a Basement Rave

I’m sitting in a basement rave on a leather ottoman. I got my ticket last minute because I can’t plan anything, and because the friend who bought the ticket got COVID. The air is hot. The fog machine makes the hot air sticky. Everybody in the room is dressed according to their own needs and desires. Some more so in the direction of desire, and less in the direction of being dressed at all.

Anybody who thinks about the clothes they wear is going to try things. I can tell you I have looked like an asshole sometimes. Like a peacock. Maybe even like a clown. Most often I probably look like someone trying to figure out how to buy their first shitty boat.

In this little window between taking acid dropped on an Altoid and when my phone screen starts wobbling around, I’m going to try and describe a rubric for figuring out what to wear. For a basement rave. For whatever. Having sat sweating at the party in the piece I wanted everyone to see, and rain soaked at the train station when I bypassed my beloved Pertex jacket for a more “classic” style, I can say I’ve finally come to a focused process for getting dressed that almost never fucks me over.

The trouble here is that it can’t come from Trunk Club or from a “hottest short sleeve button downs of SS22” list. It comes from knowing your body, and the things you like to do with it. My friend Forest Eckley of Glasswing knows this process well, and due credit to him for elucidating it for me too. Glasswing is the best store on Earth for people who care where their clothes and ceramics come from who also like to go to basement raves. Tonight Forest is wearing a black linen short sleeve shirt from Jan Jan Van Essche, and wide legged, high rise pants, probably also from Jan Jan. He chose these things because they move well and won’t make him too hot if he dances all night, which he will.

There are some things that don’t make sense, right? That big cowboy hat in this basement nine hours from another northwest sunrise for example. The sun doesn’t even rise here anymore anyway. I wanted to wear a lovingly repaired wool pullover from Arpenteur to this party, because I feel most like myself in that sweater. It would have been way too hot and besides I haven’t lovingly repaired it yet.

Before acid and molly and pulsing house music wrestle the idea from my brain, I’ll tell you what I put on tonight and why. Feet up in menswear tradition.

I’m wearing Merrell Jungle Mocs that I bought from Cabela’s in 2020. I was camping with my girlfriend and when I realized I’d only brought Crocs for riding my dirtbike I stopped on the way and bought these shoes after trying to shop for a sold out AR7 next to rows of empty shelves that were stocked with ammunition a month previous, before the pandemic. I have worn them walking ten miles a day in Tokyo, on the dirtbike, and on photo sets - but never in Mexico City because although I have been there twice, both were second dates. The only thing Jungle Mocs can’t do is impress a woman (or can they?).

Inside of these perfect shoes are Rototo’s Hiker Trash socks, because I love their simple color blocking and because I have bikepacked and partied and seen a dozen airports in them and never once noticed how my feet felt. They’re a merino blend which is the appropriate material for socks regardless of season or application.

The 1” hem of my tapered, single pleat, high waisted pant is sitting exactly at the ankle opening of my sock as I sit legs outstretched smoking on an electrical box outside. The pants are from Goldwin in a Cordura stretch denim with big swooping pockets that carry my phone and wallet somehow without showing their shape against my goddamn leg. They have a built in webbing belt and an easy snap at the closure as insurance against the confusion in my near future. There’s a hidden zipper pocket inside the right hand pocket and there’s nothing in there thanks for asking. Most importantly, these look like regular jeans to most people.

I bought Lady White’s pocket t one size too large. I just took five minutes off from writing to smoke a cigarette with a woman named Zoe who sat down next to me in a blue wig and lilac trench and little else, apart from six inch platform boots. To my absolute shock, she said she liked my Jungle Mocs and told me she has some in pink. I didn’t tell her about my friend Paul Ruffles who’s revitalizing the Merrell brand, but she didn’t stay long anyway. My t shirt is in Lady White’s own medium weight jersey, which has drape and structure while I also completely forget I’m wearing it. I chose the pocket t because if there’s one with a pocket and one without it would be insane to go without. It’s white because I only wear white t shirts. It’s tucked evenly into my waistband, where the extra size allows it to raise and move if I were to try dancing, which I won’t.

All apologies to my mother if she finds this but I chose my final layer because it has two chest pockets that are each exactly perfect for a half empty orange pack of American Spirits with a brown Bic lighter tucked inside. Either pocket would do, but the left pocket as far as I know has never been opened. The right pocket with the cigarettes is engineered somehow that it doesn’t bulge and so the flap closure drapes over the top of the pocket without sticking up awkwardly as it would on a lesser shirt. I could use the concealed button to fasten it if I wasn’t reaching inside, which I am.

Someone just congratulated Zoe on her white eyeliner debut. I bought this cotton herringbone field shirt from Evan Kinori’s online store without trying it on in 2016 and it was the most expensive garment I had ever bought at the time. I didn’t need to try it on because I’m a size large and Evan Kinori makes clothes correctly. I wore this shirt on both second dates in Mexico City and walking in Tokyo and on day hikes and I’d wear it anywhere a man would need to wear a shirt. It’s almost brown now, sun faded from its original charcoal, which is great because I don’t wear grey anymore. If I have ever sweat in this shirt it doesn’t seem to notice, and most importantly nobody else does either. I have never washed it and never will.

In the basement somewhere near the leather ottoman is my navy tote bag from Tanner Goods in a fabric called Konbu that lasts like Kevlar and wears like cotton canvas. Inside is a travel tumblr still unblessed with strangers’ wine, a bunch of rainbow carrots rubber banded together next to another bunch of bananas with my beloved pertex jacket stuffed around all of it because in Seattle in June 2022 it is still January. The tote, while beautiful, has been unnoticed or uncared for all night by anyone but me, which is why I use it.

There’s a hiking cap from Cayl jammed somewhere near the carrots. A gift from my friend Sam at Meridian in Hudson, which is the best store on Earth for Anarchists who work in fashion and who also go to basement raves. It’s a lightweight beige nylon twill, with no structure apart from a shock cord fitment at the back and subtle wire for reshaping the bill if it were to be wrested from aside the bananas. I’m not wearing the hat because it took me thirty five years to figure out how to take care of my curly hair and I’m enjoying it. The hat doesn’t exist until I need it, which is all I need from it tonight.

Right now I Iook like I might work in a shipyard, which I have done. I am communicating with what I’m wearing in a way that is accurate to who I am. Zoe in the lilac trench was doing the same. I have to believe that’s true for the cowboy hat person too. These clothes will not stick to me no matter what the fog machine says. I hope that when people look at me, they know what kind of person they’re dealing with. I think it’s working because Zoe walked off five minutes into an orange American Spirit which is a ten minute cigarette at an enthusiastic pace, which is my pace now that I have sat on this electrical box outside the rave in front of my friend Peter’s bookstore for a half hour.

The only acceptable way I have found for getting dressed is with things that I am in love with. Not with things that withstand how I live but with things that respond to it. This is true if I’m spending a whole tenth of this month’s income for a third date to the ballet in a suit (18east)((worth it ten times over)), or if I’m at home looking at shitty boats on Craigslist in a fleece and sweat shorts (both also 18east). Since I can’t plan anything, everything I own has to work for anything I might end up doing. All my decisions about what to wear are made by deciding what to buy. By knowing myself and knowing my clothes just as well.

I know I would wear and carry all of these things through the apocalypse because that’s what I’m doing. I don’t care at all how I look because these things that I adore save me from having to think about it. My two friends are on the sofa now at home. I’m sitting, legs outstretched on the floor. The Kinori shirt looks better draped on our bench than it does on me. My t shirt is still tucked in. My pants hems graze my socks. The Jungle Mocs will be fine wherever they are.

#menswear #menstyle #evankinori #ladywhite #ootd #wiwt

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