Silk Stockings in My Wingtips

I've been thinking a lot about the balance of masculine/feminine style in fashion. I often wear a variety of men's clothes and accessories; neckties and high heels have become a classic combination for me. My genderbending style quirk was called out by a group of high school students I'm working with, who were somewhere between unsettled and totally weirded out by the chick in the men's dress jacket and shoes. A week later, a friend and I were out shopping when she declared that she found the term "boyfriend jeans" heteronormative. I keep seeing ladies in men's clothing on The Sartorialist and can't help but to find them attractive. Hmm... wearing genderqueer clothes. Weird? Political? Sexy? Maybe all three. It's something that doesn't happen onstage too often (in a non-Twelfth Night or Rocky Horror Picture Show way), which leaves the only canvas for experimentation to be my own personal wardrobe. Having an undeniably feminine figure, I'm always going to be the chick in the men's dress jacket and shoes. (I did discover a men's large Brooks Brothers wool sweater in my closet that doubles as an adorable, cozy dress when paired with leggings. Yay!) Please experiment, and send pictures. 

In my wanderings, I came across this fabulous website documenting the beauty in androgyny and genderqueer identities. The above photo is borrowed from it. 

Smart Chaps

I love this. 

A Fabulous Whitney

Someone sent me this... apparently, Whitney Blake, a film actor in the 1960s (I guess they still said actress then) is credited for popularizing and feminizing the otherwise stuffy Englishmen name of Whitney. Ain't she cute? I love the sweetheart neckline on her swim suit and the great Mod print on her beach chair. 

Apron Collection, Part Three

Thanks, Mom!

Shameless.

I did it. I Googled myself. Well, my quasi-business name, whitneythings. And this badass chick was the first hit. If it can't be me, I'm sure glad it's the fabulous Ms. Whitney and her unbelievable style. 

Apron Collection, Part Two

Embrace the rick-rack and rejoice. 

The Classics.

I, as a friend once put it, seriously have the "vintage jonesin'" and it's manifested here, and pretty much in every corner of my apartment. I usually go for the cutesy, kitschy vintage with a healthy dose of the more sartorial, clean-cut vintage (I have more ties than my guy friends). I'd also like to extol the classics. A baby blue pork pie hat is vintage, a brown fedora is classic. Vintage is a funky oddity, a lost treasure from the past carefully reintegrated into a contemporary aesthetic. Classic never got lost, has simply held up (and maybe adapted a bit) to changing taste. An example? Converse All-Stars (I know you have a pair) and Levi's jeans (I have at least four). Vintage you show off, classic you wear everyday. 

Apron Collection, Part One

In honor of Thanksgiving, a celebration of all the cute vintage aprons in the world (well, in my kitchen). And yes, that's totally a pear giving a high-five to a strawberry. 

Thrift Store Find of the Week

I'm having a Thanksgiving dinner party, and I am totally geeking out about it. I have lists and charts and menus everywhere. I went thrifting to find funky placemats and gravy boats, and I found this awesome table runner. It's just so... perfect. And all mine for $1.80. 

Creative Revolution!

Creative types everywhere rejoice. This reminds me of a teacher in high school commenting after the opening of my design debut, "Everything was beautiful, but why theatre? Why don't you become a doctor or something where you use your brain? You're so smart!" Yup. And people think I left early because I'm brilliant... it was more like running out of a room before I threw up. 

Watch this, pass it on.

Because it's cool.

Last night, I announced that I was booked until March and those dangling fresh projects best step back and turn around. I got an offer for a play this morning which I turned down (though I was tempted). And then. And then. A friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend called, in need of a costume for her son's school play and out of ideas. Her five-year-old needs to be a blowfish by next Wednesday. Adorable. Amazing. I am so in. Yes, one needs to make important theatre, tell relevant stories, practice one's craft, make a living, keep a resume impressive. But sometimes it's way cooler to make a five-year-old into a blowfish. 

(photo from Telegraph archives)