On Saturday I went hiking with a few friends through the spectacular mid-October foliage. Since I’ve been so into dark mori and witchy goth looks lately, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to dress up in dark layers. (No, I didn’t stay dressed up for the whole hike–it was unseasonably warm, so I ended up taking off both my skirts and most of my jewelry and just hiking around in shorts. I also brought sneakers to change into.)
Top and cardigan: thrifted, gray skirt: Target, black skirt and belt: ASOS Curve, socks: Domino Dollhouse, shoes: LL Bean, flower crown and bat clips: Crown & Glory, crystal necklace: from my great-grandmother, gray necklace: from a clothing swap, bangles: Torrid and Deb, spike wristband: Hot Topic, studded wristband: Macy’s, skull ring: Torrid, rose ring and earrings: really old
This is what I wore for my second day at Disney. I spent half the day in the pool, which was wonderful, and when I finally dragged myself out of the water, I had another colorful and comfortable outfit planned out.
Top: Cacique by Lane Bryant, skirt: Dots via The Big Thrifty, shoes: Brooks via Zappos, watch: Amazon, pink wristband: “Magic Band” for hotel and theme park access, rainbow bracelet: a store at Disney, necklace: Betsey Johnson via eBay, earrings: Forever 21, hairclip: Crown & Glory
I picked this giant bow for my trip to Disney both because I will take any opportunity to wear huge things on my head, and because it was the closest thing to the Disney aesthetic I could think of while staying true to my own style. The dress I picked because it’s comfortable, fun, and perfect for hot weather.
Dress: ASOS Curve, bow: the Velvet Village, necklace: Tarina Tarantino via eBay, earrings: a small shop in Paris, watch: Amazon, sneakers: Brooks via Zappos, purse: LeSportSac via eBay, wristband: the “Magic Band” that got us into our hotel rooms and the theme parks Continue reading
Lately I’ve been drawn to black and gray layers: to the borders between dark mori, lagenlook, and witchy goth. I’ve been drawn to lace, velvet, zippers, asymmetric lines, balloon hems, crinkle fabric, mixed textures. To earth tones, quiet greens and browns. To amethysts and moonstones. To long, flowy skirts and dresses perfect for twirling in forests.
Click each image for details; yes, all the clothes are plus sized. They’re mostly from the expensive European shops that I spend way too much time drooling over, but there’s some ModCloth and Torrid in there too.
As someone who’s nearly always worn black coats (with the exception of the awesome faux-leopard coat my mom thrifted for me), I’ve been really excited to see the recent proliferation of pink plus size outerwear. Winter is so much more fun when you can go out in bright colors that stand out against the snow, slush, and darkness.
Here are a few of my favorites–click the image for details:
This sunset was so Disney-esque I almost wondered if it was real.
This past weekend, Steve and I went to DisneyWorld. His company was recently bought by another company that gives its employees an annual trip to Disney, so even though I had no particular desire to go there, I figured I might as well because it was free.
Well, I won’t be doing that again. There were a few things I enjoyed–like spending half a day bumming around the pool at our resort–but I just couldn’t shake the saccharine, sanitized, scripted soullessness of it all. The aggressive cheerfulness. The lack of any opportunity for the surprises and serendipities of travel. The constant insistence that this was “the most magical place on earth.” (Pro tip: places that are truly magical don’t need to announce it every five minutes.)
And worst of all: the bland, fake, horrifically depressing caricatures of places I love. Ironically enough, we stayed in a “New England-style” “beach” resort–whose “beach” was a thin strip of perfectly-raked sand, in which was planted a “No Swimming” sign, along the edge of a man-made lake.
The view from our balcony
From restaurants named “Martha’s Vineyard” and “The Cape May Café” to nautical décor, the resort tried hard to imitate the beach towns of my childhood summers–and succeeded only in inspiring a queasy mix of attraction, revulsion and homesickness. I kept thinking, “This is so pretty! But it’s a soulless cartoonified version of everything I love! But it’s so pretty!” and my head would spin.
The worst part was the “boardwalk” connecting our resort to another resort: a veritable Potemkin Atlantic City. There’s something uniquely disheartening about strolling the wide, non-splintery planks of a spirit-less boardwalk on an artificial beach. Continue reading