The more I pay attention to style, the more I find myself singling out certain designers as my pals.
Take Isabel Marant, for example. I own two of her Étoile Isabel Marant jackets, one aubergine tweed, one black. They have served me very well, worn with everything from brown cords to Levi 501s and Doc Martins. Etoile is her non-stratospheric-in-price line, and although these jackets will not last a decade, maybe not even 5 years, they’ll give me a short glorious burst of frequent wear.
The thing is, once you get a designer’s aesthetic in your head, you start to look out for their work. And I kept seeing Marant’s iconic Dickers ankle boots. Everywhere. Miss Sophie was particularly guilty.
But Dickers are often sold out online. I looked and looked for a substitute, but found nothing with that silhouette and detail. Or a low enough heel for my walking commute. Lo and behold, Barneys has boatloads in stock.
So now I can wear my purple tweed J. Crew pencil skirt sedately with low heel pumps, or pull on ankle boots and tights to edge towards Artsy. With a peacoat and scarf for walking in San Francisco. By the way, I haven’t bothered to spray the suede. If it’s raining I wear Kamik wellies. Sturdy will out.
When I get to the office I don’t need more than this old Target turtleneck tee to feel dressed. Wood heels make for A-1 stomping, and the turtleneck reads kind of Mod to me. I feel sneaky urges to don a headband, style my hair in a flip, and start doing the Frug. Oh that all our accessories might encourage us to dance.