Nor Precious, Just Stylishly Blended

Not precious. Just stylishly blended.

Pale pleated trousers, an Edwardian-inspired collar, a sheer layer, Monet hammered chain links with faux-gold and pearl baubles, and pointed suede heels with fluffy trim.

It’s dress-up luxury. A little romance, a little ’60s/’70s/Y2K glamour, all mixed into an outfit for work.

None of these pieces is trending in the sense of vintage irony, indie glamour, or pristine designer labels. They’re what department stores sold. Now they’ve made their way into curated vintage shops, thrift stores, yard sales, and online listings.

The Devil Wears Prada chain of events keeps going. Fashion travels from designers down through the stores and through the wardrobes, then they get handed down, and finds someone else to play with them.

If you love it, buy it.

What am I buying? Faux luxury. Because I like layers, style, and creative play. Because the jewelry has a few more decades in it. Because the shoes are very cute, and they fit.

None of it is perfect. The metallic lining inside the shoes is flaking; I plan to gently sand it and add moleskin for comfort. One of the faux pearls on the stamped Monet necklace may be chipped.

Am I fooling anyone, even myself, that these items are precious or steals? No.
Do I care? No.

I’m enjoying my material life. Gathering these things around me like friends.

Chic. I like that. Faux chic. Maybe more faux than fox—and that’s okay too.

Blemished, tarnished, and I’ve seen some things. So has my wardrobe.

I enjoy styling it.