Doesn't the cast from Stranger Things, Monica Geller's mom jeans or That 70's Show's fond retro garb make you wonder why fashion repeats?
Pants weren’t deemed appropriate clothing for women until the 20th century, and we fought to be able to pull on a pair. Quite literally.
I plotted my return to a tropical beach with warm waters. This year, as a birthday treat, I was fortunate to stand on several shores in Tulum, Mexico, letting the warm waters thaw my cold feet. This should have been enough. But it sadly, wasn’t.
New evidence suggests that we eat at least 50,000 plastic particles a year. Not just that, but we've apparently been wearing it too.
For those of us that gawk at trends and want to buy into them, even as we hate ourselves, and know, we probably shouldn’t, an elusive question often comes to mind: Who really decides what we wear?
As a person who is always plotting on what next to wear, a quiet revolution that’s been brewing for a bit caught my eye — The conscious, fashionable lot are wearing their clothes inside-out and are asking their favorite brands, “Who made my clothes?” And, in the absence of an(y) answer, several weavers, tailors, farmers and factory workers are holding up something real, and powerful — posters that read, “I made your clothes.” Welcome to Fashion Revolution Week, 2019.
I was probably living under a rock all this time, because shockingly, that, it turns out, isn’t a one-off case. According to a UK study, people are buying clothes online to take pictures to post to Instagram and other social media, and are then promptly returning them. Many of them, also buy several sizes of the same product to see which one fits best, and return the rest.
While this month’s theme of decluttering makes me feel like freaking Marie Kondo, the impossible mountain of my clothes continues to fuel an anxiety-ridden question — What do I do with my wardrobe’s clutter?
I’m not a big fan of roses — they are overrated, expensive, and act pricier by dying way too soon. But I’d be lying if I said they do nothing for me: They take me right back to my 10th grade classroom where my then boyfriend (now husband) arrived smelling great and early, and carefully pulled out... Continue Reading →