In Longterm Vestments

  I don't know if it's the physical and mental exhaustion from the long days, or if it's just not as much fun being constrained in what I can wear with lab four days a week, but I'm determined to have more fun dressing up on my three days off.

  When I choose my clothes and makeup, it's a bit like armor against the world outside my front door. I don't live in a hostile or dangerous environment, but I'm nervous by temperament, and having things on that make me smile and remind me of my delightful stash of stuff in my safe home helps keep me going throughout the day.

  Anyway, something clicked (or snapped, your choice of semantics and following implication) when I got home Friday and I reached for the box on my closet shelf that holds my "special occasion" garments. These are garments I don't have a practical use for but bought because they lit up the fantasy part of my brain. My upbringing never cured me of that. I'm a woman in my mid-thirties wondering I'll ever have financial stability or a permanent home. What am I saving them for?

  I live next to a city where I could wear a bathrobe or a ballgown (or both) on the bus and no one would bat an eye. I am so lucky. These items cost me about as much as everyday wear because most of them were thrifted. There's no fiscal or social reason not to wear them, really. The one who decided these things aren't part of a daily wardrobe is me, which is fine, because now I'm changing my mind. :D The practical part of me approves of this.

  On the other hand, the practical part of me is aghast because she's the one responsible for vacuuming my room, and right now there are clothes strewn all over the bed and floor. She'll deal.

  First up! A fancy black top with netting from BCBG.

   Has: boning without restricting breathing/movement, built in padding, tiny stick-on jewels on the straps, and strips of ragged lace. WIN.

  The jeans are new to me. I wouldn't be surprised if they were new, period. Picked them up at the mothership thrift store in SoMa and even after chopping off several inches for my short calves, they are still recognizably bootcut. I am thrilled. (This never happens! I love bootcuts, and by the time I'm through with them they look like straight leg. I love mermaid skirts; when I chop them to my height they are vaguely A-line.)

  And now, a leather jacket, because I love the look of jeans, boots, a leather jacket, and some kind of sexy corset-y top. Something about it seems tough and tomboyish and feminine and sexy all at once to me. I like how the lace strips from the flower still hang below the jacket waist.

  I got the jewelry from a mall travel store in downtown SF that was going out of business. It was located across the way from another travel store. They probably should have planned that better. I like it as a pseudo choker because it doesn't actually touch my throat and therefore drive me crazy. Looked up the company and it is actually a bracelet. Works both ways. :D

  I am linking up to Not Dead Yet Style's Visible Monday where style bloggers share their looks that make 'em feel rockin'.

  It was sunny earlier today:

Glue (the comic)

Top: BCBG (eBay, size 6, size 8, mystery)

Cracked Motorcycle Jacket: Laundry by Shelli Segal (gift)

Sage wrap bracelet (worn as necklace): Foxy Originals (product link)

Juniors low rise flare jeans: Levi's (thrifted)

Shoes: Candie's (thrifted)