It's Blurry Even Without Light

Dress: Old Navy * Sweater: thrifted * Tights: Hue * Boots: thrifted

It's the last day of January, the last day before this winter's 30 for 30 challenge, and the last day of the week before a massive blizzard hits Chicago. I have to say, I'm excited about all of it. This was my fourth January in Chicago, and I think each one has been a bit easier than the last. I've learned how to deal with the cold, and the gloomy gray winter doldrums, and can enjoy the snow and the season. February looks exciting already, with 30 brand new outfits sketched out in my sketchbook (I spent much of the weekend drawing and coloring outfit ideas, which was so fun and relaxing).

And I literally could not be more excited about this upcoming snowstorm. Winter is by no means my favorite season, and I'm always happy when warmer temps roll around. But I grew up in a cold, snowy climate, and I'm used to a few months of the year being covered in frost and snow. What I have trouble with are the winters that consist of neverending stretches of gray, cold, windy days, without a hint of a winter storm. I want my winters to feel like winter. So I'm looking forward to the coming days, when Chicago will become covered in many inches of fluffy white, and any excuse to stay indoors is one well-taken.

The only problem with it is that in climates that are used to snow and cold and wind, snow days are very rarely called. It seems likely that, with an anticipated 18-24 inches in 24 hours, we'll get a snow day, but it's never certain. I'll just have to be prepared to trudge my mile to work in my hearty snowboots. And make sure to bring cocoa with me to the office on Wednesday.

So on the last day of January, I'm happy preparing for the storm and embracing the last few non-curated items that I'll be wearing for the coming month. I'm sure it will fly by, as January (and the three Januaries before this one) has. It will be boisterous, extroverted spring soon enough, so for now I'm content to appreciate winter's introversion.

How do you prepare for a blizzard? Do your offices, schools, places of business call snow days? Do you love them or hate them?

Title song: Nada Surf, "Blizzard of '77"

I Say You Don't Know

Dress: thrifted * Tights: Christmas present * Boots: Rockport * Wood cuff: H&M * Earrings: self-made

I don't normally post over the weekends (although, since I'm doing the 30 for 30 this time around, I better get in the habit of doing so!), but I just had to share my outfit from Joe and my date night on Friday. If you recall, we went out for a fancy dinner to celebrate my three-quarters birthday (and no, I'm not ashamed to celebrate four times a year, why do you ask?). The dinner was spectacular. Each of our dishes was simple and unassuming, but used fresh, local products to make the flavors incredibly vibrant and amazingly delicious.

We both started off with local, delicious beers (I'm a sucker for a good scotch ale in mid-winter) and truffle oil popcorn topped with sarvecchio cheese, which made me oh-so-happy. Joe went the good hearty deutsch route, getting liverwurst and schnitzel (y'all, I'm not normally one for pureed meats, but the liverwurst was ah-may-zing, and was topped with pickled apple slices). I ended up with a warm farro salad that made me want to convert from my quinoa-loving ways, and the most tasty, tender burger ever. I even got to have dessert, and went with a warm salted caramel brownie sundae with fresh-made ice cream and a raspberry coulis. Sorry for all the excruciating food details, you guys, but I'm still reeling from all the delicious!

I wanted to dress up for the occasion, but it's January, and I really had no idea how warm, cold, or fancy the restaurant would be. I really love what I ended up with. This turtleneck mini dress has served me well already, and has easily earned its $4 keep, and I'm always a sucker for cognac and leather accents, so I stuck with that. Oh, and don't worry about the bare legs under those lace tights! I had a pair of tall nude socks on underneath to keep my toes nice and warm. And it ended up being the perfect level of fancy, too. There were plenty of people in jeans, but many in heels and dressier garb, too, so I felt just right.

Thank you, Joe, for treating me to such a lovely date. You already know how much I enjoyed it, but I'll say it again here for posterity: it was wonderful.

Oh, and if you haven't yet, be sure to read Katie's phenomenal guest post on fashion as a curatorial force in our lives. I'm loving your comments and discussions so far!

Title song: Franz Ferdinand, "Take me Out"

Some blah blah blah for you!

Fashion is...Curation

This evening, I am thrilled to re-introduce, and revive, a beloved feature on Between Laundry Days, called "Fashion is...". Back in spring, I had a series of guest posts from some of my favorite bloggers, discussing various elements of what fashion means to them. These posts reminded me of the absolutely, mind-blowingly incredible women in this community, and inspired me to look at fashion and personal style in new and more creative ways. So I am so happy to introduce Katie, of Interrobangs, Anonymous. Katie is a fabulous blogger and a real-life friend (granted, we only had brunch once, but it was blogger best friendship at first bite), and I'm sure her post will inspire many thoughts, comments, and general fabulousness.

Fashion is…Curation: As a museum curator, I'm  very conscious of the ways society uses variations of the word “curate.” It was a buzzword of 2010, and very prevalent in the world of fashion. Designers were described as “curating collections,” makeover shows challenged us to “curate our closets,” and several style bloggers went as far as to call themselves “curators of fashion.” With all that in mind, the assertion that fashion is curation doesn't sound too groundbreaking, does it? Well, it depends on your definition.

On a basic fashion level, most people are curators. Our wardrobes, whether they're made of thirty pieces or three hundred, are collections we build. By choosing our pieces of fashion, we curate a sense of style and identify that, just like paintings in an art gallery or specimens in a natural history diorama, tell specific stories. To borrow a phrase from the museum world, when we curate our closet we choose pieces that support the “mission” of who we are.

Embracing that first level idea of fashion curation and cultivating a closet collection is important. However, the act of curation is much more than just collecting and understanding the historic intent behind “curation” may just redefine the role fashion can play in your life.

The origin of the word “curation” comes from the Medieval Latin “curatus,” which means “spiritual oversight.” The first curates were religious figures entrusted with the care of people's souls. That part of each person considered most precious, most holy, and most in need of safeguarding was under the protection of the curates. Today's curators extend past religious institutions, but the original spirit and intent of the roles they perform remains. Curators are entrusted with protecting, preserving, sustaining and sharing those things that societies have declared invaluable to who we were, who we are, and who we will be. This is the true meaning of curation - to protect, nourish and sustain what is most important.

When I claim that fashion is curation, I think there are two steps to that process. In the first step, fashion is the object of the verb, and curation is something we do. We chose what we wear; we curate fashion. In the second step, the object of the verb is reversed, and fashion has the power of curation: fashion curates us. This is an abstract idea, but an important one.

When fashion curates us, clothing and accessories take on the role of the original curates: protecting, nourishing and sustaining. This idea is common within religious mandates of dressing - habits, crucifixes, hijabs, kippahs and even WWJD bracelets function not just as clothing, but also as supporting and connecting pieces between the wearer and their faith. However, the application does not have to be religious. It's remarkable to think that fashion can care for and heal us mentally, emotionally and even subconsciously, but it can. The psychologically transformative ability of a favorite pair of shoes or perfect dress is a powerful thing, and the more intention we take to incorporate fashion objects into our lives that care for our psyches and sustains our souls, the better. Fashion that curates you compounds to become more than the sum of the individual shoes and dresses, it becomes a positive extension of who you are. When fashion is curation, the result is a celebration of you.

Note: The perspective I present in this piece comes my own, privileged experiences when it comes to access to fashion as a luxury. In the words of my amazing co-blogger Sarah, fashion “can actually be a negative, be a demise, be a repression. It's an elitist luxury since not all people can actually use fashion for anything other than function.” With that in mind, I'd like to encourage everyone to support charities that work to connect people to fashion and the transformative and curatorial power it has. My favorites are:

Little Dresses for Africa: http://www.littledressesforafrica.org/blog/

Dress for Success: http://www.dressforsuccess.org/

Career Gear: http://careergear.org/

Donate My Dress: http://www.donatemydress.org/

So we put it to you, readers: what photos, outfits, or moments of daily style embody that abstract idea of curation that Katie is discussing in this post. It's such a deeply personal issue, so we'd love it for you to provide links or descriptions in the comments of outfits or pieces that mentally, emotionally, or curatorially affect you in some way.

The Words She Knows

Dress: UO * Cardigan: UO * Boots: Target * Tights: Christmas present * Socks: Target

First of all, thanks for all of your very kind words in your comments to yesterday's post. I'm glad, and flattered, that my randomness delights you. And I'm glad you're as excited as I am about my bread-making experiments! In fact, as I type this I have little bits of dough under my fingernails and stuck to my arm. I got up early this morning to mix and knead the dough for the buckwheat batard I was telling you about yesterday, and I'm letting it rise while I'm at work. I'm hoping to have a loaf or two to bring to Joe this weekend.

Speaking of Joe, we have a fancy date planned for Friday night! There are a few things about me that make me awesome (ha! I love sentences that start like that). One is the fact that I consider my birthday to be a crucially important day in the year. Like, really damn important. Therefore, I am a big fan of all things birthday-related. Such as, for example, my half birthday. Last year, for my half-birthday, we took a day-long excursion through Chicago, got miserably lost (we got halfway to Wisconsin and thought we were headed towards Indiana the whole time...), and had a delicious sushi dinner. This year we missed my half-birthday, just by the virtue of being apart from each other. We realized, however, that this past Monday was my three-quarters birthday, and rather than feeling ashamed for splitting hairs, we decided to embrace the serendipity of the occasion and go out on a date. So this Friday night I'll be donning my best (or three-quarters best) duds and hitting the town with my red-bearded boyfriend.

We have reservations at a restaurant in Joe's town that I've been dying to go to. It focuses on buying from local farmers, and has a constantly rotating, and absolutely delicious sounding menu. I'm already debating what to order. We haven't been out on a proper date in quite awhile, and the last weekend we spent together we were both so sick, so I'm really looking forward to a bit of special date night time with him.

Okay, enough of this. I've got to go wash the bread dough out of my hands and get to work. Happy hump day!

Title song: Elton John, "Tiny Dancer" (I felt somewhat ballerina or figure skater-esque in this outfit, so this seemed to be the appropriate choice.)

It's Not the Oven or the Heat

Sweater: UO * Pants: Old Navy * Scarf: Christmas gift * Boots: Target * Belt: thrifted

I almost wrote an entire post about some various attitude problems I've been having lately (internal attitude problems, not plate-throwing, temper-losing attitude problems). I wanted to talk about what I've been struggling with, and think about ways to address and mediate those issues. And that's fine. Really. That would be a fine post to write, and I'll probably still write it sometime. However, this morning, I'd really rather not dwell on the negative. Because if there's anything that makes my attitude problem worse, it's being self-indulgent about it. So I'll think, and write about it later, when I can talk about it with more distance and objectivity. (Also, please note that things are, in large part, really great. This is just a small hiccup in the way that I deal with things, and something that I know I have to work on. Don't worry!)

So, to focus on things that make my world go 'round, let's talk about bread. You heard me. I've been exploring the world of bread-baking in the past few months. I have a few phenomenal cookbooks now, and have started recently to branch out beyond the super-easy beer bread and standard loaf breads. I made a killer ciabatta bread over Christmas break. Ciabatta is really good. I think that bread made my parents, and Joe, love me a little bit more. So I'm determined to keep rolling on this train of yeasty goodness. Enter the sourdough starter.

Ha! That last picture was me trying to capture my foggy cold-weather breath on film. Joe snapped the picture at the right moment, but I think my camera is a bit too rudimentary to catch misty air.

For the past 5-6 days, I've been "feeding" a pretty unpleasant-looking gray goo in a glass jar in our kitchen. It has started to smell very yeasty and not unlike apple cider, on some days, and is bubbly and active. Starters (this one is called a liquid levain in my fancy bread cookbook, which I want to sleep with because it introduced me to the ciabatta and must be magical) are used in a ton of breads, and in all of my favorites. A good baguette starts with a levain, as does sourdough (of course), and pretty much any bread with a thick, wonderful crust and an airy, light inside. I think my starter will be ready to use tomorrow or Thursday, and I think I'm going to give it its test run with a buckwheat batard (I've been getting buckwheat, rye, and whole wheat flour in bulk from the local Co-op where Joe lives, and it has made this hobby infinitely cheaper, and more interesting).

Are any of you novice (or professional?) bread-makers? Any tips for a newbie like me? Any cookbook or recipe suggestions are welcome, as well as must-have tools and appliances (I'm getting very close to justifying the purchase of a stand mixer, since a lot of the bread doughs are too moist to knead by hand).

I know this is a sort of weird, very disjointed post, in which I do not talk about my outfit at all (let's be honest, its awesomeness speaks for itself). How do you guys feel about posts like this? Honestly, they're my favorites, since they're most representative of what goes on in my little brain early in the morning. Of course, there are those posts where everything truly comes together, and the words and reflections connect with the pictures and the sentiments, but not every day can be that serendipitous. So today we get a mustard scarf, an attitude adjustment, and yeast.

Title song: Johnny Cash, "Breaking Bread"

There's Nobody Here

Sweater: Target * Jeans: Gap * Boots: Target * Scarf: handmade * Headband: Anthropologie * Ring: Christmas present

So sometimes, just sometimes, I get way behind in posting pictures. I didn't take these today. I didn't take them this weekend. I didn't even take them last week. These are from a few weeks ago, when Joe and I were spending the weekend at his place, and it was a perfect, snowy, winter wonderland. The snow was so much deeper than I had thought it was, and I got tons of snow in my shoes and everywhere. It took everything in my power to not just dive into the drifts and get totally coated. I resisted only because it was also effing cold.

It's Monday, so I'll try to spare you from a wordy, photo-heavy post, full of THOUGHTS. Because honestly, I'm not sure I have it in me this morning, either. We should, however, take a moment to celebrate this sweater, which I bought for $3.74 at Target. In the little girls' section. It's so badass. Badass enough that I wanted to have my "movie star makeup" on when I wore it. (Just so we're clear, "movie star makeup" equals lipstick. That's it. Winged eyeliner too, if I'm feeling really sassy.)

How was your weekend? Mine was a weird roller coaster of productivity, laziness, outings and staying in. I got a few things done that really needed to get done (put all the summer dresses still hanging in my closet into storage for the winter, for example), got some delightfully indulgent TV and movie-watching in (Rent, the Tudors, and my mandatory bi-annual viewing of all of Eddie Izzard's stand-up), had the best breakfast in the history of ever (steel cut oats with cream and currants...mmmm...), had a fun Whole Food/Unique thrift outing with the roomies (got loads of bulk goodness at WF, and fabulous thrifted jars to put it all in at Unique!), busted out a few minor coding skills to add those flashy sidebar links over there (see? --->), met a girl who went to school in my hometown and knew loads of the same peeps that I do (my best friend since forever, my dad, you know, no biggie), and had a lovely dinner and post-dinner dance party with the roomies and extended roomies last night. With all that fun, though, I'm dragging just a tad this morning. It might be a two-cup-of-coffee kind of day.

Title song: Chris DeBurgh, "Lady in Red"

Untitled

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Saturday I found the artwork of Sandrine Estrade Boulet on the web. I'm a big fan already.
Here is her site. Have a good look around. She has a blog also, if you care to follow it. Her
work is about amusing herself and hopefully you too. We have something in common like that.

Ain't This a Cryin' Shame

It's really cold in Chicago today. The kind of cold where I would have gotten frostbite in my normal 25 minute walk to work (don't worry, I'll take the bus). A few weekends ago, while I was visiting Joe, we made a little gif to show you my winter wear. Today seems as good a day as any to share the ridiculousness. Maybe I can stay warm on my walk to work if I do a little jig most of the way...

p.s. TGIF, suckas! (Also, for those of you who miss my witty presence on Twitter, Emily has taken to occasionally tweeting my random comments - about things that I find, people looking dumb, and calling everything "bitches", so far - hey, there's a reason I left, alright?) Anyway, stay warm this weekend. Oh, and GO BEARS!

p.p.s. I just installed Disqus comments on the blog last night. They seem to be working fine so far, but please email me if you're having any problems with them!

Title song: Muddy Waters, "Nine Below Zero"

SHOWCASE IRELAND EXPO

Gals

Blog posts have been very slim on the ground this week but with good reason. :)

We have been very busy prepping for our upcoming visit to SHOWCASE Ireland 2011. SHOWCASE is Ireland's largest craft expo and we are heading to exhibit at this year's fair in the RDS, Dublin.

It will be our first time exhibiting at a Trade fair as opposed to simply perusing the aisles.So we had a lot of work to get through this week to be show ready!

As well as that we have been making the transition from our current home studio to our first ever public studio/retail location. More about that move very soon. :)

Looking forward to SHOWCASE, and looking forward to a night sleep soon too. lol

www.showcaseireland.com

SHOWCASE

"Ireland's Creative Expo"

January 23rd-26th 2011

RDS,Dublin

Far Below the Flashy Ceiling Sky

Shirt: Gap * Jacket: thrifted * Black motorcycle jeans: Gap * Boots: Target

Sometimes, when you're sick, you take your outfit pictures inside. Against a white wall, with an ugly lamp. Because your boyfriend made you. I'm a pretty good patient when I'm sick, I think, but sometimes I get stubborn. On Friday, I thought it was a really great idea to go outside and take my pictures in the wintry snow. I thought I looked downright badass, and knew that that shit had to be documented. Joe put his foot down and made me stay indoors. He was just looking out for me, I suppose, but these pictures do not thrill me. Aside from my purty face and the Chicago Public Library print, there ain't nothin' goin' on in these pictures.

Wait, yes there is something going on! I'd like to take a moment to talk about my hair. As you know, it is short. What you may not know is that I'm slowly, and patiently (though my hairdresser would beg to differ, seeing as I have multiple times threatened to shave my own head, and have once followed through with a buzz cut, which she spent months trying to fix), trying to grow it out. I've never been able to grow out the pixie cut in a less-than-horrendously-awkward way, so I'm trying to do it as slowly, intentionally, and fashionably as possible. It's more a test of character than a real desire to have long hair again. But! Good news! It's working.

Das braid.

It is now long enough for me to create the Frankenstein's monster of french braids in the front. Yes, I'm aware that the braid only goes about three inches, and it's really more a smashing down of hairs than a proper braid, but all great experiments need initial horrible failures to get to that Nobel Prize. The Nobel Prize for Excellence in Hair-Growing-Out Patience. The braid stayed in all day, so I think I'm well on my way. I do wish I had taken a picture when it came out, since the resulting hair swoop put the members of Flock of Seagulls to shame. Maybe next time.

Any tips for me as I grow out my locks? Care to share examples of great curly-hair hairstyles as it grows out? Any tips on how to avoid the allure of the buzzer?

Title song: Matt Pond PA, "Our Braided Lives"

You're Surprised to Find Only Me

Striped sweater: Gap, thrifted * Shorts: Gap jeans, thrifted, DIY * Tights: Hue * Socks: American Apparel * Boots: Target * Yellow scarf: Christmas present from roomie * Gray scarf: c/o Affordable Scarves

I think I may have been inspired by Kyla this weekend. Between the maxi skirt and jean shorts, styled for winter, I've been seriously channeling my inner Blue Collar Catwalk. And I like it! This outfit is one of my favorite winter weekend outfits, partly because it feels so casual and thrown together, yet totally cozy. And I love how these pictures turned out, too. It was so gray out when I was taking them, and I feel like I am almost absorbed into the wintry January palette.

One thing that I do now, everyday, to keep my life in order and my head more clear, is clean my room. I used to be (up until this July, quite literally) the kind of person with crap strewn everywhere. I consistently had piles of both clean and dirty clothes somewhere in my room (let's be honest, they were almost always on the floor), and I don't think I ever made my bed, except for when I put clean sheets on it. It wasn't really for lack of wanting to be clean. I'm just type A enough that organization simply thrills me, but there has always been something about my room that beckons me to chaos. However, since moving in July, I have found myself with a much smaller space. Were I to leave it in the state that I've left my bedrooms in the past, I have the distinct feeling that the disorder would gnaw at me, and make me feel not at home in the very place I should feel most comfortable. So now I make my bed, every morning. Everything has a place, and I make sure that it gets there. I never go to bed without the closet door and all the dresser drawers closed, and shoes are allowed nowhere but the shoe rack. It's a bit of a change, but it helps.

I'm a firm believer in weird little organizational things like that. It gives control and focus to one part of life. And, for me, while a clean bedroom has little to no impact on my daily life and routine, a messy one can throw a wrench in the day, from sabotaging outfit choices to putting my mind in a decidedly disheveled state. Granted, I'm also one of those people that needs the volume on any device to be set at an even number or multiple of 5, so my opinions on this topic may be skewed. Nonetheless, it makes a difference. It's hard to tackle the big, or little, hurdles of the day if I've started off feeling unbalanced. It's easier for me to prioritize, set goals, and feel motivated, creative, and in control, if I've taken the time to clean and control my space. I don't know, though. Maybe I should learn to let go...

Do any of you clean your rooms or make your bed everyday? Why? Why not? (Yes, I just wrote a whole post about cleaning my bedroom. What can I say? It's Wednesday.)

Title song: Neko Case, "Make Your Bed"