Shoes: Betseyville, J. C. Penney's
Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's
Dress: J. C. Penney's
Belt: Wet Seal
Sunglasses: Candie's, Kohl's
Skirt: Forever 21
Shoes: Frederick's of Hollywood
Bag: Bisou Bisou, J. C. Penney's
Belt: Wet Seal
Sunglasses: Cloud Nine, Ocean City Boardwalk
I don't mean an actual rain forest. (Please. I rarely leave the confines of South Jersey.) No, this post is more about rain forest-inspired raiment, lush showers of shoes and bags and necklaces that make you think of the tropics from the comfort of your own yard (or couch - hey, this homebody doesn't judge). Then again, I did catch an episode of the Science Channel's "How Do They Do It?" last weekend (which is to say that the husband was watching it while I pieced together synthetic palm fronds) about gum harvesting in the Yucatan Peninsula, and the voice-over warned, "for all of its beauty, the rain forest is a dangerous place." Truer words were never spoken, ominous announcer man.
But back to the topic at hand. I've always wanted to do a post of solid outfits, no prints allowed. Not only would it be a challenge (I've got a penchant for prints), but it would make my necklaces pop. I often have this dilemma when dressing myself, drawn to the drama of dueling motifs and intricate accents. (Forget about taking one thing off before leaving the house; it's more like, one more necklace? Don't mind if I do!) So here it is, clean color-blocking at its most minimal, the very voice (voice? sure, why not) of restraint.
Still, I love a good pattern, especially a resort-ready one. I recently saw a spread on (albeit subdued) floral fashions - I think it was called "tropical mixers" - in Real Simple magazine. I really like Real Simple. I realize that this sounds odd, given my love of extravagance (simplicity's less sensible but better kitted-out cousin), and at first I was surprised, too. Sure, this somewhat matronly monthly lacks the colorful flash of Vogue, Elle, or Glamour - even its pages are matte instead of glossy - but it more than makes up for it with its abundance of human interest stories. Readers write in to answer questions, such as, "What book most inspired you?"; there's always an essay about a personal challenge, some big, some small (one of my favorites is about a woman overcoming her fear of sleeping alone when her husband is away on business); and the advice column focuses on etiquette rather than beauty or dating. Even the editor's note is delightful, and I never read those! I think that what sets Real Simple apart from other women's magazines is that it focuses more on who women are than on who they think they should be. Well, except for when it's firing off advice about being a more efficient cook and housekeeper. As someone who subsists on pasta and clutter, such can-do directives really annoy me.