026: Ways of Wearing Pt. III

Weatherproofing whites!

Tonight I’m leaving for Italy, where I’ll be for about two weeks. Because I’ll be traveling to a few different places with varying climates and landscapes, I’ve packed somewhat summery dresses (but not audaciously so because I do want to be respectful of Autumn’s feelings) as well as mid-weight to heavy-ish jackets. But, it is precisely because I will be traveling a fair amount – trains, stations, planes, taxis, ferries – that I’ve assigned to myself just one suitcase and no hand luggage, which is a conundrum as I do love my stuff.

I’ve previously yammered on about my complicated feelings about transitioning resolutely Summer clothing into the cooler seasons. As we get tantalizingly close to the start of leaves turning, the deadline for storing away remnants of the sunny season is looming, but not before one last hurrah. Enter the white cotton skirt.

I have one perfect white cotton skirt, designed by Sara Lanzi. I spotted it in a lookbook from a few seasons ago, but as the saying goes, I tried my hand at shooting my shot, and sent the designer a message asking (pleading) whether she happened to have one last piece hiding somewhere, and lo and behold, she did! It has an elastic waistband and pockets, excellent volume and is suggestively sheer. I had spent, in all seriousness, years searching for a skirt like this, and finally she’s mine.

As I have had to pack most prudently, in spite of my impulses, most of what I’ve packed can be worn either on its own or with different layers, or styled in different ways. I had my work cut out for me with all this outfit planning, my options very strict. I only packed three pairs of shoes! Who am I?

I was certain about taking my white skirt because it works just as well with a swimsuit as it does with a sweater. Rather dimwittedly, I’ve previously never played around with the skirt’s capabilities in cooler climes, nothing beyond throwing on a crew-neck sweater, usually when I’m at a loss and must leave the house with haste. Though it can be a time-consuming process, packing is an invitation to play with and reimagine the contents of our closet. It’s an opportunity to bring out the more dormant elements of the wardrobe and breathe new life into them, maybe even deepen appreciation of them.

Prada Spring 2001 sweater, Miu Miu shoes

I.

I found this sweater on The Real Real a year or two ago for under $75 in excellent condition. One thing I do when combing through the site is to sort according to price, from low to high. I’ve unearthed some great treasures that way, a combination of a lot just falling to the wayside on the site over time, buried under newer arrivals, and sheer force of extreme patience.

This runway look is one of my favourites from the collection. To some it might strike as “Duh!”, but to me it’s a reminder that off-white can indeed be paired with white, and that seemingly prim clothes can be rendered very, very cool with a bitchin’ attitude. This makes me think of a question Ingrid Sischy poses to Miuccia Prada for The New Yorker: “I asked her if she’d been one of those rebellious kids she likes to create on the runway. She said, “I tried to be bad, but I couldn’t be as bad as I would have liked—not as bad as the girls I really admired, and not as bad as the ones who are in my dreams.”

Left: Prada shoes, Gobi cashmere sweater; Right: agnès b. cardigan, Simone Rocha x Crocs erm…crocs

II & III.

Both looks are distinctly different in feeling, one a bit polished, the other a smidge freaky. The look on the left is a woman who worships her idol (Miuccia Prada, for those of you under rock), and is something I gravitate towards when I want to be Pretty with a capital P. Though I don’t own nor can afford ridiculously incredible antique gems, a kitschy pair of vintage rhinestone earrings will do the trick! Black and navy together tends to ruffle a lot of feathers which I think is…madness?

The Simone Rocha crocs upset my mother, which of course means I love them. I wouldn’t say that they work with every single thing in my closet, but with the pieces it does make sense with, it livens up an otherwise simple look, and usually the first thing I turn to when I want to make sense of what I’m wearing.

Prada belt, JW Anderson sandals

IV.

Before any enterprising individuals get any wise ideas – the way some people act like they’re the inventor of the brooch, enough, no more cultural colonialism please!! – I can attest that at the very least, four generations of women in my family, myself included, have been wearing shawls. Shawls, or shaal as we say in Bangla, pashmina for those who don’t know what they’re talking about, is/was/has always been popular in South and Central Asia, particularly during winters.

When I lived in Dhaka, the unveiling of my mother’s shawl collection signaled the arrival of winter. For some it was steaming pithas, but for me, it was always the shawls. Winters were relatively mild in Dhaka, but we treasured the slightly discernible drop in temperature as a respite, and also as an excuse to bring out shawls. My mother amassed an impressive collection, which she still has, and would drape them over her shoulders or cocoon herself in, always matching her crepe silk shalwar kameezes, before heading out to the office for the day. I thought it was so chic! So adult! My grandmother wore them, as did my great-grandmother, and they always looked so elegant with their simple cotton saris. I couldn’t wait to shed childish cardigans and wear my own shaals.

This black shawl with beaded fringe along the ends is something I’ve had since I was twelve. Tired of me stealing her’s, my mother bought me a shawl of my very own during a work trip to India. I felt opulent, and cool as hell.

A few days ago I was looking at images of Dries Van Noten’s Spring 2000 show. The show is a masterclass in both big skirts and cozy shawls, both of which I have and adore, but it never occurred to me to put the two together. I attempted to recreate a look worn by the late Stella Tennant with what I had: I don’t have a white button-down (I know), but a cheongsam-inspired top from Miu Miu’s Spring 2003 collection does the trick; the lightness of the skirt juxtaposed with the density of the belt, polar opposite materials to the touch; threadbare sandals I wear on holiday, and in New York but only post-pedicure. Not to shabby!

*Fun fact: What Americans refer to as “pashmina”, is actually not so. Pashminas are made from the undercoat of a specific type of goat in North India, and is so fine the legend is that it can be pulled through a ring. The FTC considers pashmina interchangeable with cashmere. So what you find at Bloomingdales isn’t actually a pashmina pashmina, it’s just a shawl.

Prada jacket, Y/Project x Melissa mules, Miu Miu Spring 2003 top

V.

When it comes to proportion play, I’m a bit reluctant, particularly with regard to the lower half of my body. Call it a lifetime of neuroses! I wear this jacket with pants and with dresses of less volume, and never open, unless the chill demands it. But, I became inspired after watching Marni’s Spring 2025 show – boxy jackets and fishtail skirts – and I think I enjoy the results and/or have gotten over myself. Worn off the shoulders, it offers little to zero in terms of practicality, but looks great. Just don’t straighten your arms!

All these pieces except for the Crocs and the mules have been packed. Wish me luck!

Until next time!