(vintage jacket and skirt, venessa arizaga necklace, fever ray t-shirt from a stranger...read the story here)
I am having a paisley moment. I say moment, as if it's just a passing trend or a fleeting idea, but in truth I've always had a love for this delicate design. A story? At 19 I found myself living in a decayed wooden room with walls that sagged sadly, or shrugged?, asking me why I still lived there, why hadn't I moved on, what was I so afraid of? I knew the answer of course: I was afraid of being alone. In those days, I filled my (slowly) passing time with an abattoir of Catherine Wheel and collecting paisley-printed things from the thrift store. I can ruefully recall a most ravishing dress I'd found at Goodwill, ochre with hints of maroon, besotted with paisley, adorned with button down its length, buttons that ultimately became a cunning trap. But for the moment, wearing that dress made me feel okay. The simple paisley teardrops resembled my own tears and at that time, and I shed many of them. I felt some comfort in wearing my sadness. But ultimately to me, paisley represents a kind of quiet strength; stunted character upon defeat, whispery guard rather than retreat. And so, at 26, the skirt in some ways pays respect that dress that unintentionally helped me through a profoundly difficult time. Hindsight truly is 20/20.