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The Summer Uglies

PeaceBang sighs and mopes this time of year, as she loves the summer but frankly looks like hell in typical summer clothes. And the heat and humidity wreaks God’s own vengeance on her hair and make-up.

Professionally she sticks pretty much to white blouses, cool cotton skirts (sometimes showing some gams, sometimes not) and cute pumps or sandals. When off-duty, she sticks to jeans, t-shirts and cotton scarves in her hair (or fun caps). But what about those in-between occasions, when a girl wants to look polished but not ministerial, and not like her most casual running-errands-flopping-around-the-house self?

What about, for example, going on a DATE?

What about going on a DATE in the SUMMER when you HATE your upper arms and they should never been seen in public and you don’t want to over-do the cleavage because that’s just OBVIOUS and it’s too casual an occasion to wear a cute skirt to, and you’d just about KILL to be able to wear a sexy camisole but you just can’t because there are those ARMS to deal with? And what about the HAIR? How to manage the HAIR? Meanwhile your date looks perfectly adorable in just Levi 501’s and a t-shirt while you can’t find a THING in your closet and it’s also too hot to wear your reliable constricting undergarments and my God, what if it should get to PAJAMAS or even, my Lord, less than that, like SWIMMING SUITS? And you can’t very well wear a PAREO INTO the POOL, can you, and they don’t make swimsuits with LONG SLEEVES. So you know you’ll just have to keep having dates in clubs or restaurants with air-conditioning and pray he likes you well enough to make it through the season into fall, when really, you’re just much cuter.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to PeaceBang’s First Official Summer Meltdown.

Please, I beg you to comment. I might have a date soon.

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No Mercy For Zubaz

I’m a little bit torn on the floral patterned pants thing. But only a little bit. Mostly I hate them and all their drawstring-waisted sisters and brothers.

I suppose some floral pants can be lightweight and flowy, and can pass muster IF they’re a neutral shade (black and tan, e.g.) and you wear them with something lovely and perhaps linen on top, like a sleeveless sweater with classy gold hoops and nice black mule sandals. Also a nice bag.

However, if they’re not in the neutral color family, nix ’em. Do you really want to go around looking suspiciously like you’re wearing your husband’s Zubaz from 1992? Remember Zubaz? They should have all been taken out and shot.

http://www.badfads.com/pages/fashion/zubaz.html

Also, does anyone’s tushie look at it’s best in big floppy floral pants?

For the love of God, ladies and gentlemen, let’s keep our trousers in solids. Little summery stripes or pinstripes are all in good fun (and often in good fashion), but big splashy florals are just too Muffy At The CountryClub or Really Fat Americans Huffing Through DisneyWorld Eating Tast-T-Pops for us to maintain our dignity in.

If you disagree, send photo proof and I’ll happily retract my harsh condemnation. But not ’til then.

P.S. You can stop thinking of cargo pants as “casual wear” right now. They are appropriate for gardening only.

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Fashion At Fifty

Aside from some Boomer whining about how “our generation” did this and that for the first time, bla bla bla, this is a peachy little article:

http://lifestyle.msn.com/BeautyandFashion/StayingYoung/ArticleMORE.aspx?cp-documentid=496554&GT1=8175

I agree with the dame who says, “I don’t care how fit these women are; their clothes don’t match their faces.”

I happen to think that being a stylish fifty is ALL about confidence, achievement, life experience, a sly sexy knowing, humor, laugh lines (and some frown lines, too), and a classic look with hair that’s a bit out of control.

My cousin Roni is rather my idol of being a cool 50 year old beauty: she’s gorgeous and still maintains a bit of the old hippie vibe in her wild long hair, but her attire is classic classic classic rock-and-roll. Like gorgeously fitted jeans, fabulous boots and a great Italian leather jacket with a fitted t-shirt and one stunning gold chain. She has huge rings from places like Turkey, and she doesn’t walk, she strides. She speaks in an insolent drawl and has a dirty laugh.
I adore her look. Effortless chic.

I think fifty is about putting away the “fun” prints that make us look lamely youthful and keeping major wardrobe pieces classic and streamlined, with a lot of personality in the accessories. A great black suit with leopard print pumps. A cashmere sweater over perfectly fitted, boot-cut dark denim jeans with an enormous bangle or two, or three. A crisp white blouse under a navy blazer with flattering slash cut pockets and thousands of pearls around your neck and movie star sunglasses. Let the girls look like pieces of candy. You look like a woman. Show ’em how it’s done.

When I was in Italy ten years ago I bought some smashing black jet buttons and had my tailor put them on a black blazer. I’ll have that blazer forever. It’s a smashing, flattering, classic cut and everytime I wear it (when I’m not too chubby to fit into it — something that happens every few years) I feel like the fifty year old woman I’m going to be someday: independent, accomplished, generous of size and of spirit, creative, courageous, naughty with just a tiny touch of glamour wherever possible.

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The Dreaded 1980’s Groovy Vest

Since we’re talking about ethnic garb, I need to share with you all that SisterBang won’t step foot in a church if she thinks she’s going to be confronted with this look:

ethnicgarb2

I couldn’t agree with her more.

On the other hand, I think this is fabulous:

ethnic garb

On him! On him! Not on you! Unless you’re in retirement and don’t care how eccentric you look.

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On Caftans and Muumuus

Here is the most elegant and beautiful Isabella Rossellini, ya’ll, who has gotten quite voluptuous in her dotage. Look at her. She’s all beaming and round-faced because she’s not really modeling any more and she’s eating butter and drinking Merseault in places like Gstaad and Biarritz. She’s Isabella Rossellini. She doesn’t care if she’s got avoirdupois. She is eternally gorgeous.

Isabella

There’s a lot that works here: the big smile, the classic red lips, the colorful beads, the creative, flowing garb.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot more that doesn’t work here:
the hideous color of the caftan (she can sort of get away with it but I doubt you can, and I certainly can’t), the hacked-at hair with no movement and no shine or discernible style to it, the sneakers (ack! sneakers!?). And it’s too bad she’s dragging around that white bedspread; she looks like a first-grader heading to her first sleepover.

The caftan, ideal for hiding a multitude of sins, should ideally be about mid-thigh, and she should have beautifully flowing pants on underneath, and maybe a boot with a heel. Unless she’s been on a flight all day, in which case the dressed up sneakers might be temporarily forgiveable.

I understand that the caftan is a traditional Indian garment, or at least I think it is. And I respect that. However, she still looks like she’s swimming in it and it’s just not flattering.

The way to redeem this look would be to do something with the hair (like grow it to balance out the chipmunk cheeks), cut about half the caftan off, put on a more appropriate shoe, and stay away from mustard yellow.

She’d still do a lot better if she wore a fitted jacket or tunic and created the funky ethnic look she seems to be after with lots and lots of beads and a turban. She could absolutely tear it up in a turban.

If you want to see a really cute caftan look, check out Gwen Stefani at nine months pregnant (and I’m referring to the far left photo in particular):

cute caftan

Thanks to Go Fug Yourself for the photo.