I found the article "Resident to don period clothing for Aiken anniversary" in yesterday’s paper an interesting read. A local lady has made several period outfits from 1875 to celebrate our town’s 175th anniversary. She made some interesting points about how women back then used fabric very efficiently and only replaced their dresses every 5 to 10 years. That’s definitely a contrast with today’s practically disposable fashions.

Two months into my commitment not to buy any new clothes, I have ripped the knee in two of my three pairs of jeans. And it was my two nicest pairs, too.

This development is really challenging me to stick to my guns and not spend money unnecessarily. I’ve asked myself, do I really need more than one pair of jeans? I have other pants. I’m not naked and I can look respectable when I need to.

My plan is to put iron-on patches on the inside of the ripped knees and keep on truckin’.

Growing up in Northern California, I pretty much wore the same clothes year-round. The only difference between the summer and the winter there is how much it rains. When I went to college in Tennessee, I got a crash course in seasonal dressing. Suddenly, those fashion “rules” I’d vaguely heard about started to make sense. “Don’t wear velvet in the summer” – because you will swelter. “Don’t wear linen in the winter” – because you will freeze.

The closets in my dorm rooms were small, so I got in the habit of switching out my wardrobe when the seasons changed, putting the warm-weather clothes into my trunk for storage and taking out the cold-weather clothes in the fall, then repeating the process in the spring. It felt so nice to suddenly have a whole new wardrobe twice a year, and to have less clutter in my closet, that I kept making the switch even after college.

Photo by Daniel T. Yara

The longer I’ve lived in the South, the more I’ve embraced the whole concept of dressing for the season. I don’t see it as a bunch of silly outdated rules. Rather, I think seasonal dressing is a worthy tradition dating back hundreds of years. For an example, look at traditional Japanese kimonos with their carefully crafted designs meant to express the essence of each season. Dressing for the season helps me feel more in tune with the natural world. Also, it’s a good way to give your wardrobe a periodic overhaul.

One difference between South Carolina and some of the other places I’ve lived is that we don’t really get winter here. At least, not temperature-wise. Also, the weather doesn’t really get fall-like until mid- to late-October. In addition, we don’t have the cold spring weather that fashion merchandisers assume is the norm. So instead of two big closet-changing sessions a year, I’ve found that I need two big ones and two little ones.

I make one of my big changeovers around Easter. That holiday is a pretty good marker for the beginning of spring/summer. Then, sometime in May, I put away all the spring clothes that it’s too warm to wear anymore (e.g. long-sleeved sweaters and tees).

In early fall, around Labor Day, I make another small changeover, putting away clothes that feel too “summery.” (I’ll get into this more in my next post.) Finally, when the weather really cools off sometime in October, I put away the shorts and capris and bring out the jeans and sweaters.

I like keeping my closet filled with only the clothes I can actually wear at the moment, and I like the feeling of getting a whole bunch of “new” clothes a few times a year, when I take things out of storage. Do you dress seasonally? Why or why not?

The fall clothes are already in the stores, but it’s not yet Labor Day so I’m going to say that I’m not yet late with my fall 2008 color predictions. These are not necessarily the colors the fashion industry is trying to foist upon us. Rather, these are the colors that I think people will gravitate to most. (For example, it doesn’t matter that there are a lot of pumpkin-colored sweaters in the stores right now because I expect most of those to be hanging on the clearance racks come November.)

These colors aren’t just for clothing: they’re the ones I think you’ll want to surround yourself with in napkins, wrapping paper, nail polish, flowers, rugs, soap, etc. because they just somehow feel right right now.

Color by COLOURlovers

• Teal: We’ve had about 15 years to recover from the teal binge of the late 80s/early 90s and it’s time for this lovely color to make a comeback. Sadly, it doesn’t render well on a computer screen. Imagine it bolder and richer, with a little more green. Surprisingly, teal hasn’t really taken off yet (it’s not as easy to find in stores as, say, purple), so I predict that anything you buy now will wear well for at least a couple more years.
• Dark Gray: Ubiquitous on the runways, goes with everything, and flattering on more people than stark black.
• Light Gray: Gray is everywhere this season, so it’s worth having some variety in shades. Don’t stop with dark and light, try medium gray, too. You don’t have to limit yourself to a palette of 5 colors like I did.
• Plum: From a blueish to a more magenta-ish hue, plum (dark, rich purple) is very current. This is one of the fashion industry picks that I think people will actually warm up to.
• Gold: Another color that doesn’t render well on the computer screen; you’ll just have to imagine that it’s metallic. I believe that gold jewelry, gold accessories, even gold nail polish will appeal to a large number of people this fall.

Laura over at Flypaper points out that the empire waist trend seems to be ending, and that many designers are introducing drop-waist styles for fall. For me personally, the timing couldn’t be better. Yes, I will be wearing some empire waist styles by necessity between now and January, but after that, I look forward to embracing the dropped waist.

Why do I like this style so much? Done right, drop-waist styles can not only hide a thick waist but also camouflage short legs. Since my waist, hips, and thighs are all about the same width, any garment that makes it unclear where one stops and the other starts gives the illusion that underneath my drop-waist cardigan hides an extra 3 inches of legs and an hourglass figure. Or, at least not a waist as wide as mine actually is, or as wide as mine will actually be for a few months until I’ve lost the baby weight.