Pretty Young Thing

It’s rare I venture from my usual silhouette of tailored and body-skimming. I’ve always loved the A-line skirts and dresses inspired by the 1950s, but because I’m so petite, any other shape tends to swallow me or make me look more voluputious (in the least attractive way possible) than I am in reality. Unwanted bulk is the bane of the short girl’s existence. Moving on.

But it’s finds like this dress that serve as a reminder to never typecast. You just know when things work – call it a girl’s intuition—no matter how dissimilar they are to everything you normally go for, right from the hanger. Undress, slip, a smooth zip… et voila. A perfect fit.

How pretty is it? It’s refreshing given my usual “femme fatale” (quoted from a friend, ha) choices: girly but grown-up with a modern taken on the fifties silhouette: low V neckline, leather shoulder and waist detailing, an exposed zipper, and a stiff grey tweed with metallic silver and baby pink threading. The bodice hugs the bust and waist beautifully to flare out right below the nip of the waist. Of course it called for a ballerina bun and pretty pumps! It’s not a often a girl of 2013 gets to dress like this; it’s even rarer to see a someone my age in anything like this—which makes me love it all the more. I need another excuse occasion to wear this out; ideas?

It’s not a silhouette I ever go for, to be honest, but I spotted it out of the corner of my eye and just had to snap it. For a girl who loves fifties womenswear as much as I do, you’d never be able to tell given my current wardrobe—all you’ll find are hangers and hangers of black, body-conscious basics.

I love this because it isn’t so literal. How ridiculous would I look in an actual, vintage 50s ensemble? I possess neither the air nor the etiquette of that period—it would just look awkward. Displaced. Misplaced. Some can pull off that look (re: “modern” pinup), but it will forever read as costume-y, if not entirely contrived. There’s no interpretation, no styling. Just pure, unadulterated copies—characters—of history.

Here’s the funny thing: I assumed (and still do) that this was one of those dresses only another woman would get (you know what I’m talking about; it’s like the high-waist trouser the ladies at work gush over, but men simply don’t understand. And yet this is one of the few #OOTN I post that was most well-received by the gents of Instagram; go figure, eh? Moral of the story: less is more. And I will forever be the champion of knee-length hemlines.

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