I’m a rather monotonous girl: whenever there’s a garment I like, I tend to buy it in multiple colors. The same goes for sewing: whenever a pattern is tried and true, I tend to plan a lot of other versions of it (which I may make or not: sewing takes a little _ lots of time). Continue reading “Popsicle”
Is there any type of garment more magical than a dress? With, maybe, the coat, the dress is the only garment that really draws a silhouette. Other types of clothes have to work together to compose a silhouette, an ensemble _ only the dress is self-sufficient. I didn’t wear any during a long time: as a teenager I might have worn a few skirts, or dresses over trousers, under sweaters (eeek). I retrospectively wonder wether I was ready to give them all the importance they deserved. Continue reading “The shirtdress”
“Hey! I did my Koromogae, last week-end! _ Your what, Carlotta?”
My love for weird foreign concept (or, should we simply call it snobism?) won’t do me any good. Koromogae, if you briefly lived in Japan (or read a lot of shojo mangas), is the big wardrobe turnover that Japanese students and salarymen do twice a year, in April and October.
While I love the idea for itself (such a radical change in everybody’s daylife in a week-end), it is no surprise that koromogae also has practical assets : place is often an issue in Japan, and this storage turnover allows averybody to keep less seasonable items in more remote places of your home. I’ve been doing my Koromogae every 6 months for at least two and a half years, and I find it highly profitable :
1. It’s the perfect opportunity to draw conclusions from the past season: everything you didn’t wear has to go to the charity shop, everything that’s too worn-out gets recycled; therefore, twice a year, you get to refine the content of your wardrobe.
2. Thanks to the lavender bags that I put among my cashmere sweaters (I’m afraid of mites), my flat smells like heaven for days.
3. A less crowded closet is a clear closet: not only it’s more agreeable, but also I get a better sense of what I have when getting dressed.
4. I’m such a sucker for neatly organized things: this way I even get to fold my socks and divide them between “winterly” and “summerly” colors (I still have hesitations concerning grey socks).
5. You’re as happy to find your spring clothes after 6 months of separation, as you would be to meet long-lost friends again (if you’re not, maybe you should refer to point n°1).
6. Since my significant one seems to find me a tiny little bit frivolous, it’s nice he only gets to see half my clothes at once (he has 6 months to forget about the other half).
7. Since I don’t have the necessary storage space to keep the other half of my closet, koromogae is also an excellent opportunity to see my beloved parents!
8. Finally, as we enjoy the first rays of sun of the year, the clotheshorse is drawn to the koromogae just like Parisians are drawn en masse to parks and terraces: it is an instinct, a fever, a celebration of nature – our own rite of spring.
As I answered this call two weeks ago, the sun was high and we had had our first lunch outside. It’s been cold and rainy ever since. All my warm, cozy clothes are at my parent’s place.
Damn rite of spring.
Isn’t spring fabulous? Always managing to make me doubt of its very existence, then appearing when I forgot everything about its supposed come-back (and letting me die of heat under my winter coat). But some parisians remembered to hear the weather report this week and sat in shirts at tables outside of the cafés, and the trees were blooming around Vincennes (a parisian suburb where I’ve been working these two last weeks). Even the parc de Bercy (a garden not far from my usual movie theater) seemed greener, probably supporting the collective effort. Then, what about my own spring project?
Not only did I make the mistake to have a pajama break, but I was foolish enough to start three projects at a time (as if being practical wasn’t enough of a problem for me). The project is a simple circle skirt made in sunny yelow and blue madras. I love how full and high-waisted it is! I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be part of the rockabilly-inpired wardrobe that seems to be on trend for this spring, but if fashionistas want to go to dance, this is certainly the right skirt to wear. It’s really nothing special (even for me!), but I chose to hem it wih a matching Liberty bias, too; the kind of detail I’ll be the only one to notice, but am sure to enjoy every time I put the skirt on. When I went out this morning, spring was actually gone, but at least I still have the flowers…
(and now, if someone can explain why on these pictures my knees are twice as pink _and not as pretty_ as those of the creatures Marguerite Sauvage draws, I’d be curious to know…)