welcome to my summer wardrobe

I've been obsessing about this dress for months, so when I went over to the Alexander Wang site to visit it on Monday and I noticed that the stock was dwindling, I decided to just fucking bite the bullet already and order it (in black, obv). I'm calling it an early birthday present to myself.

Last summer I sweltered, desperately scouring ebay for the perfect t-shirt dress that I never found. Sometimes it's worth paying full price to get exactly what you're looking for. And I am gonna wear this baby every day. With flip flops. With wedges. With my new docs.

Available in grey and black at Alexander Wang (sizes limited), in white at Oak, and in black at Creatures of Comfort.*

*If I may put in a word for the ladies of Creatures of Comfort... Yesterday cevd and I went into the store on Melrose and I tried on the dress (which is even better than I'd hoped) just to be sure I ordered the right size from AW. I obsessed. I made them pull sizes out of the back. They even looked up AW's return policy for me before I decided the dress I ordered was the right size after all and didn't buy anything from them. They could not have been cooler.

Hi

I think I'm back. My body is back anyway, happily getting reacquainted with my little desk in the kitchen of the bungalow. It's possible I've left a few pieces of my brain strewn across the Bay Bridge. And in the parking lot of the Emeryville Denny's. (Which is a movie unto itself on a Saturday night, let me tell you.)

Anyhoo, I missed you guys. My plans for recovery/reemergence are as follows:

1. Bloggety blog blog blogging.

2. Blog stalking. (Yeah YOU.)

3. Doing laundry laundry and more laundry. This may not seem like an important part of the cure, but a) all our clothes are dirty and b) I find doing laundry strangely theraputic. I think I'm still high on having my own washing machine.

4. Drinking whiskey and watching the new True Blood.

5. Tweeting publicly again. I love YOU GUYS. I want you with me always so I can talk to you, say, when H-town gets wrapped up in a wildly boring cell conversation in the car, or I'm standing in the dressing room at Crossroads and I need style advice asap. It's only when the desperate self-promoters/assy wedding planners/porn spammers (it's a fine line) descend that I want to scratch my face off.

I have much suckier things I need to take care of, like replacing the rusted-out exhaust pipe on Blue, my beloved Volvo station wagon, and finally f*cking doing our taxes. But what's another day or two?


Images via Le Fashion. I just can't wear docs again (believe me, I wore the hell out of them from 1989-1994), but when I was costume shopping here the other week I was sorely tempted by a pair of combat boots. They are supremely good with this sheer dress.

Doc Martens live on

In case there was any doubt.

Photos of Romance Street by Hedi Slimane

As do leather jackets. Yikes I need a new leather jacket. Vintage, Christina, I promise.

Groom Style: Rock Star

I love the wild-west-meets-the-seventies look. These boys are rocking the vest.

I'm also a sucker for good facial hair. Don't shave your beard (or your mustache, please!) for the wedding, whatever you do. Be yourself. And look like yourself in the pictures.

The Killers found here.

This real-life groom also happens to be in a band. It shows in his f-it-I'll-wear-what-I-want attitude. We could all use a little more of that.

(Doc Martens are meant to be worn with tube socks, after all. Wedding or no wedding.)

Photo by Laura Burlton.

doc martens are so. back.

Okay, #3 is not wearing Docs. But he should be. (He reminds me of the boy I had a deep, deep crush on my junior year in high school.)

These photos were snapped by The Sartorialist in Paris, Florence and Stockholm. Now take a look over here.