flirting with a middle part

When it comes to "going out" clothes,  I stand mostly clueless. You want to go out for drinks? I don't own any of the sexy Herve Leger-esque bandage dresses, none of my shirts have side cut-outs and all my skirts are knee-length and a-line. I dress like a french boy or a school-girl from 1947, so I'm used to being the girl that watches from afar while my friends get flirted with.

By day I own the sidewalks and command attention in the majority of situations I am placed, but as the sun goes down so do my wardrobe options. I guess you could say my night time clothes are my day time clothes therefore I don't look like I want to flirt with you. My clothes need daylight not dubstep. We'll see how the NYC moon handles my navy tutu. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, I'll stick to my usual shorts or pants and chiffon shirt combination. The only difference between this outfit and an outfit I'd wear to meet my grandmother for lunch is the shoes. Shoes and lipstick make an outfit. By make an outfit I mean break up the androgyny emanating from my buttoned up collar and middle part.

This is me not taking myself too seriously and embracing my manly eyebrows. Cheers.
[shirt-forever21, shorts-uo (old), shoes-bcbg, bag-michael kors (roommate love)]
Pictures: Sydney Holmes


The pants are back.
Somehow I've stumbled into a fashionable valley where everything below the belt is the most important aspect of my sartorial decisions. Posh pants if you will. From sequined palazzo to leathered and cuffed, a statement pant is my drug of choice. And by drug, I mean the unnatural fabric that usually make the biggest statements in any given clothing combination. And now I seem to be comparing my white chiffon palazzo pants to cocaine. Hmm not my best work.
Although I do love the weight of a simple cotton dress on hot days like today, I often come back to my trusty printed/pleated/patterned pants. There's something about a poised lady in a great pair of structured pants that screams "I am the pants!" Which could also mean something like, feminism hear me roar and I don't need a man and I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T. I bet you don't think these things when you put on a pair of pants, I don't really either.
In conclusion, I am really on an independent woman kick and I like pants,  especially these pants. The two thoughts aren't actually related.
I paired my curtain-like pants with a cropped long sleeve black shirt, baring a modest sliver of tummy flesh. To counteract any lingering scandalous intentions from showing a little midriff skin I added my oversized army vest. Sexy cannot penetrate a studded army vest, it's a proven fact.

[pants-jennifer lopez, shirt-azwell, vest-river island, shoes-bcbg]
Thanks, Daniel Roth for the pictures.