Yesterday afternoon I skipped out of the office for a stroll along the
Avenue of the Americas...you know, grab a little midday iced venti non-fat latte, catch up on some chit chat with Suse, kill time... So, I crossed the Avenue at 46th Street and this guy...a seemingly somewhat non-threatening guy, he didn't seem homeless or like a crackhead or anything... though, I mean, I wouldn't invite him out for drinks or to come meet my Mommy for lunch or anything... so, this guy is standing on the corner, leaning up against the subway entrance sign...and he looks me dead in the eyes as I approach and says:
Well actually, inwardly I gasped, because I am a well-school Big City gal and I avert my eyes and ignore scuzzy men and gross come-ons and catcalls and even the more harmless-ish interactions attempted by panhandler and squeegee-wielding types... And as I walked past, looking at the ground and his gaze followed me, I realized that this seemingly somewhat non-threatening guy was actually the same guy who had his belongings hanging off the mailbox on the corner of 47th last week as I was mailing my subscription renewal for Bon Appetit...so maybe I looked at him a little crooked when he wouldn't move his crap so I could mail this all-important correspondence (it is, by the way...I cannot live without my food porn...). But there is no way this dude remembered me...nope...he just spoke his mind as I approached...he actually, truly thought I looked like a "cold sl*t"...and he felt that I needed t
o be made aware....Thanks crazy mailbox hoarding/subway dwelling freak...!
Let me just make it clear, so you get the full effect...I was wearing a simple black and white patterned dress with a fitted black cardigan and my 3 1/2 inch gunmetal grey patent leather T-straps. Not sure that is sl*t-wear, but whatever you say, crazy mailbox hoarding/subway dwelling freak... And I don't see myself as pushing the envelope in my fashion choices...in fact, I would guess that I am probably a little conservative...a short skirt here and there, some hot shoes maybe...but mostly, I am generally reserved and classically tailored. So I was somewhat offended and perplexed by the comment...it bugged me just a teeny tiny bit...because not only was I
called a "sl*t" with bad fashion sense...but a cold sl*t at that...does that mean I am mean and nasty too? Or does cold have another definition on "the streets?" Well, whatever, I guess it's better than being a "rude, thoughtless little pig..."...either way, the truth is, I am pretty certain as to why crazy (etc.) freak made his statement...
Because I am still rocking the bare-leg look a full 2 1/2 months past summer's end.
"You look like a cold sl*t in that skirt."
GASP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well actually, inwardly I gasped, because I am a well-school Big City gal and I avert my eyes and ignore scuzzy men and gross come-ons and catcalls and even the more harmless-ish interactions attempted by panhandler and squeegee-wielding types... And as I walked past, looking at the ground and his gaze followed me, I realized that this seemingly somewhat non-threatening guy was actually the same guy who had his belongings hanging off the mailbox on the corner of 47th last week as I was mailing my subscription renewal for Bon Appetit...so maybe I looked at him a little crooked when he wouldn't move his crap so I could mail this all-important correspondence (it is, by the way...I cannot live without my food porn...). But there is no way this dude remembered me...nope...he just spoke his mind as I approached...he actually, truly thought I looked like a "cold sl*t"...and he felt that I needed t
o be made aware....Thanks crazy mailbox hoarding/subway dwelling freak...!Let me just make it clear, so you get the full effect...I was wearing a simple black and white patterned dress with a fitted black cardigan and my 3 1/2 inch gunmetal grey patent leather T-straps. Not sure that is sl*t-wear, but whatever you say, crazy mailbox hoarding/subway dwelling freak... And I don't see myself as pushing the envelope in my fashion choices...in fact, I would guess that I am probably a little conservative...a short skirt here and there, some hot shoes maybe...but mostly, I am generally reserved and classically tailored. So I was somewhat offended and perplexed by the comment...it bugged me just a teeny tiny bit...because not only was I
called a "sl*t" with bad fashion sense...but a cold sl*t at that...does that mean I am mean and nasty too? Or does cold have another definition on "the streets?" Well, whatever, I guess it's better than being a "rude, thoughtless little pig..."...either way, the truth is, I am pretty certain as to why crazy (etc.) freak made his statement...Because I am still rocking the bare-leg look a full 2 1/2 months past summer's end.
I can't help it...seriously...I despise pantyhose of any sort...I don'
t care how silky or sheer or sparkly or how far that sadistic control top flattens my stomach and all my internal organs along with it...I won't put them on. Ok, I will concede that a classic pair of opaque tights can finish a look quite well, but I have to be 100% honest...I only wear those if it is snowing outside. I don't know, I think maybe in a past life I was one of those Victorian courtesans with a full on corset and layers upon layers of muslin and bustles and hoop skirts and god knows what else, because when Sarah Jessica Parker and the Sex & the City posse made it ok to go without...I jumped onboard the naked leg train and never looked back.
t care how silky or sheer or sparkly or how far that sadistic control top flattens my stomach and all my internal organs along with it...I won't put them on. Ok, I will concede that a classic pair of opaque tights can finish a look quite well, but I have to be 100% honest...I only wear those if it is snowing outside. I don't know, I think maybe in a past life I was one of those Victorian courtesans with a full on corset and layers upon layers of muslin and bustles and hoop skirts and god knows what else, because when Sarah Jessica Parker and the Sex & the City posse made it ok to go without...I jumped onboard the naked leg train and never looked back.
I admit it...the late Fall and Winter do get a little difficult when you are talking dressier or even professional looks...and I wear the skirt/boots thing as an alternative...but, the thing is...I am wondering if my crazy friend was simply giving me a tip...like: "Hey, lady, bare-leggedness is so 2005...." Probably is (KR, recessionista/fashionista, please clear this up for me...)...I should probably have moved on to this whole "leggings beneath skirts" (and being that leggings seem to be Lindsay Lohan's uniform, I suspect they are actually the sl*t-wear....) craze or whatever, but I have loved this year-round bare-legged moment in fashion history...sl*t wear or not, I am still rolling with it...
So this whole "cold sl*t" 
moment reminded me of the conversation Sam and I had as we drove up to Schenectady this past Friday and how we metro-NYC, upscale suburbanites totally convince ourselves that we have it going on with our $200 haute couture jeans and quilted Burberry jackets and Tory Burch ballet flats in every color of the rainbow...and then, there we are not even 20 miles from home, walking down Avenue of the Americas surrounded by
supermodels and hipsters and Park Avenue princesses...and then the nutbar on the corner puts you right the hell back into your place. G*ddamn bunch of ninnies we are...it's hilarious! But, all was not lost, we agreed...because we were by far the hottest b*tches in all of Schenectady that night (next to our dear Amber who was strong and as beautiful as ever...much love, sister...).
moment reminded me of the conversation Sam and I had as we drove up to Schenectady this past Friday and how we metro-NYC, upscale suburbanites totally convince ourselves that we have it going on with our $200 haute couture jeans and quilted Burberry jackets and Tory Burch ballet flats in every color of the rainbow...and then, there we are not even 20 miles from home, walking down Avenue of the Americas surrounded by
supermodels and hipsters and Park Avenue princesses...and then the nutbar on the corner puts you right the hell back into your place. G*ddamn bunch of ninnies we are...it's hilarious! But, all was not lost, we agreed...because we were by far the hottest b*tches in all of Schenectady that night (next to our dear Amber who was strong and as beautiful as ever...much love, sister...). And you know, there have been some sad fashion trends in my lifetime...and I was right onboard with those too...just the other day Latzy and I were cracking up at the boys' football game about the stylish looks we pulled off as high school girls, looking to impress the boys with the goods....which not a one of them could see in our tapered, pegged Guess jeans and gigantically oversized Benetton sweaters over turtlenecks...I was a 
size 2 when I was in high school, but every weekend I sported a sweater so bloody huge that each of my best girlfriends could have fit inside it with me. And then Latzy brought up those oversized turtleneck necks that folded over, adding more girth to our boxed in upper bodies...like, we might as well have been wearing a burkha for godssakes. And of course, the look was incomplete without the straight hair -- either bobbed or tastefully just beyond shoulder length -- with the heaviest curtain of bangs possible, cut straight against the forehead. Was there any other way we could cover ourselves...I am certain we
would have figured on one if so. Somehow, though, we still seemed to attract the opposite sex, who apparently had no idea we had bodies underneath those tents or they may have been even more frustrated than they already were...am I right, boys? I mean, what do they know of our fashion pain anyway?...The whole system is unfairly balanced...the guys can dress up a button-down and khakis with a simple blue blazer and they look sharp and elegant and pulled together...so they don't have to think...the rules that apply to men in almost all things in life rarely waiver anyway.
size 2 when I was in high school, but every weekend I sported a sweater so bloody huge that each of my best girlfriends could have fit inside it with me. And then Latzy brought up those oversized turtleneck necks that folded over, adding more girth to our boxed in upper bodies...like, we might as well have been wearing a burkha for godssakes. And of course, the look was incomplete without the straight hair -- either bobbed or tastefully just beyond shoulder length -- with the heaviest curtain of bangs possible, cut straight against the forehead. Was there any other way we could cover ourselves...I am certain we
would have figured on one if so. Somehow, though, we still seemed to attract the opposite sex, who apparently had no idea we had bodies underneath those tents or they may have been even more frustrated than they already were...am I right, boys? I mean, what do they know of our fashion pain anyway?...The whole system is unfairly balanced...the guys can dress up a button-down and khakis with a simple blue blazer and they look sharp and elegant and pulled together...so they don't have to think...the rules that apply to men in almost all things in life rarely waiver anyway. And even though I think some of the women's rules have relaxed slightly too much (bikini tops at the grocery store?...bare-midriff at the office (hello, Larry David!)?...Ladies, like Aunt Sassy would say -- we don't need to see that...), I was so impressed when the younger generation of women embraced tank tops and 
spaghetti straps and curve enhancing formal wear and open-toed shoes and, my favorite, the bare-leg...because it told me that it was ok to show a little skin....you weren't a "cold sl*t" just for letting your pedicure hit the breeze past August 31st.
spaghetti straps and curve enhancing formal wear and open-toed shoes and, my favorite, the bare-leg...because it told me that it was ok to show a little skin....you weren't a "cold sl*t" just for letting your pedicure hit the breeze past August 31st. So, thinking back on it, I guess crazy mailbox hoarding/subway dwelling guy has a perfect right to his fashion opinion (though attacks on character should be reserved for those you know very well, yes?...just saying....)...because, frankly, I feel that fashion is truly so very personal and individual, and we all develop a taste and a consciousness of what works for our bodies and position in life. So if you look good and you feel good and you aren't breaking any laws, then I say have fun...wear what you want, right? Throw caution to the wind....take risks and make it work for you....(right, Tim Gunn???)...and ignore the psych ward street urchins and naysayers...yes? right? you with me????
Um...if it sounds like I am desperately attempting to justify the year-round bare-legged look...well, it's because I totally am....
Love you, my loves....
Suz
Photos:
1: There he is...Sixth Ave fashion critic and character assassin...rude, thoughtless little pig!
2: That is exactly how I looked ignoring my assailant as I strolled on...exactly, like she is my twin for sure....
3: My fashion split personality...all professional in my J. Crew ensemble and Vineyard Vines Nantucket signs sash...holding my hot, delicious Kate Spade 4-inch heeled "guest" slingbacks...worn barelegged, I might add...
4: Barelegged trendsetting icons...
5: RJ, Jen, Charlie and me at St. Vincent Ferrer Church, NYC...in my role as godmother to my brother's first child...no place on earth is too sacred for short skirts and bare legs...apparently...
6: Lindsay in her ubiquitous black leggings...this elegant swan is 23 years old....she only looks 45....
7: Sam and I this spring....barelegged though you cannot tell...in our finest suburban fashions...
8: My indigo satin Tory Burch ballet flats...sublime...enough said...
9: (left to right) Teenaged Lyncher, Murph, me, Casey, Allison and Kerry (and I think a few more under our Champion sweatshirts...) in our most oversized, unsexiest possible outfits, August 1988...at least I had the good sense to go barelegged even then....
10: Bringing masculine style to the Pre-K set, my fearless fashion plate, Tim, in '06...
11: ADP and me fighting over the dirndl...now if I had been wearing that thing when my 6th Ave fashion critic hurled his insult, well, I could not have argued....
2 comments:
I'm actually a HUGE fan of nylons... like... obsessed. I wear brightly colored tights like I'm one of those girls who sits on the Met steps during lunch on an episode of Gossip Girl. I'm sure the dude only called you a "cold sl*t" because he was jeal that his wifey ain't got nothin' on your Jersey girl hotness! ;-)
ha....ha...ha..... i like you smile....ha ha...........
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