Finally: sun, heat, and just enough humidity to keep my skin dewy and my décolleté forever glistening. (I’m grateful that my aesthetic—okay, fine, my natural proclivity to sweat—is now considered chic).
I chose to debut a little Reformation bardot dress to visit the NYBG Georgia O’Keeffe exhibit on Saturday: a cream, crêpe number covered in the sweetest pink and lavender flowers, with a dangerously low off-shoulder neckline. Very Lolita–meets-The Secret Garden vibes. This was a dress that demanded a ladylike bun at the nape of the neck and of course, a tiny basket bag in the crook of my arm. Pearl earrings would’ve been the sensible thing to wear, but giant hoops were much needed to juxtapose the vibes.
Did Miranda Priestly just yawn? Florals for a trip to the botanical gardens? Groundbreaking. How predictable. How positively literal.
All true, but I’m not one to compete with nature—so think of this as an homage fit for the occasion.
. . .
P.S.: Along with
oily luminous skin and giant hoop earrings, let’s add lowbrow mirror selfies to my signature aesthetic. I’ll forever take them when something is worth documenting; they’re efficient, indulgent, and allow me to control the both the final look and the gaze. Please divert your eyes if you find them offensive.