You name the Skittles, I’ve tasted that rainbow.
Oh Nina, you pre-read me like a book.
After reviewing the Hundred, in list form, it occurred to me that, gosh, I’m just not sure if a caftan is the right statement for me. And driving shoes. Really, Nina? I don’t know.
But la nina has anticipated this line of thinking, and addressed it outright!
It is important for everyone who reads this book to know that I have adapted and edited each item on this list to suit my style, my body, my personality. I should hope you will do the same. (P. xiv)
Yes! I will do the same, madame, thank you for the liberty. Nina goes on to reaffirm the basic tenet of her first book, which is this:
Style is a deeply personal expression of who you are, and every time you dress, you are asserting a part of yourself. (P. xiv)
Oh, this is worrisome. I’m not just shopping, I’m making statements? What, pray tell, am I saying?!
My closet would reply: “Color makes up for fit.” Oh, I wear the color, do I ever. Neon pink, lime, super-duper-lemony yellow; you name the Skittles, I’ve tasted that rainbow. This, I felt, was a good thing–most women are afraid of color! I truly thought there was no color I could not wear. And perhaps I was correct. I was not, however, at all in tune with the idea of tailoring.
Fit is key, king, in fact. The proverbial burlap sack might well be flattering if pinned and tucked the right way. But I shopped with a mind of desperation–if I found something that fit me, I bought it–and wasn’t allowing myself the luxury of restraint. Which is how I ended up with not one but seven too-big cardigans in every available color. The shoulder seems were halway to my elbows, giving me the overall silhouette of a depressed willow tree. It was (and I’m not going to lie, perhaps continues to be) quite bad.
Having there-to-fore not much contemplated the question of style, I gave myself a pass and promised to go forth with intention. And that’s where Garcia gets the nod.
