Consuming fashion

I went into the Gap looking for high fashion. Three hot young designers were commissioned to create riffs on the iconic white shirt, and I was in pursuit of Rodarte's petal blossom tank and trapeze top. The SA whom I called urged me to "come in as soon as possible" because he couldn't guarantee how long they would last.

So I took the bus into downtown today. Found them, tried them on, and put them back on the rack. Then I wandered down to Anthropologie and didn't even try on a single thing (excepting shoes. of course, shoes...).

An odd moment for me. While everything looked nice, nothing grabbed me in the had-to-have-it kind of way. Nothing sparkled. Nothing caught my fancy.

I think it's the fact that I haven't been browsing lately. Perhaps the whole "consuming fashion" business relies on induced desires bred by imagery and aspiration. It's a partly hypnotic state, because otherwise, it seems completely foolish to spend a few hundred dollars on a few squares of fabric.

Texas

I look forward to summer immoderately. Not because of where I am now, in the eternal grey blanket of the Northwest, but because of where I have been, the land of sun and ten-gallon hats.

So despite all cues missing, I am stocking up for warm days and light breezes. I seek out dresses with flippy hems, sleeveless tanks, and flat sandals.

It's the only bit of summer I can have so far.