A Firsthand Accounting of 2011 and my Year in (Mostly Secondhand) Clothes

It was a hard year in many ways. I finished radiation treatment for my brain tumor, and had to leave the South Pacific to return to the northeastern US - to my old life. We had sublet our house (since we had expected to be gone until July 2011), so we moved into an apartment on the west side of Providence. I went back to the same office at Brown, and while there is comfort in what is familiar, there were times when I felt like I had stepped back several years in my career and that I was once again doing the very tasks I had sought to escape. Thanks, cancer.

However, I'm not one to dwell too much on the past and on what's negative. I've been tremendously blessed by love and support over this past year. My work situation may not be ideal, but I'm fortunate to have a job with terrific colleagues and with amazing health insurance that fully covers the $18K a year in MRIs that I get, as well as the consultations with my wonderful new oncologist. 

And I have more flexibility in my schedule now. I meet my daughter most days when she gets off the school bus, and for the first time in my adult life, I haven't worked full-time. That's been freeing, as was, perhaps ironically, turning 40. Between brain cancer and my (advancing) age, it's easier than ever to just not give a fuck about what people think. Last winter and spring, before I was allowed to drive again, I took the bus back and forth to work. Unless it was freezing out, I didn't wear a hat. Here's a family pic from early April (taken on the High Line in NYC). You can see that I was pretty bald:

But I didn't give a fuck. I still had my fabulous quilted orange vest, and my eBay Celine scarf, and most importantly, the two girls I love most sitting next to me. And so when punks on the bus would menacingly stare at me and my bald head, I'd stare back, thinking, What the hell are you looking at? Yeah, that's right. You think you can intimidate me? My brain tumor is far scarier than your punk-ass 15-year-old self. And once I met their gazes long enough, they'd stop staring.

This attitude also meant that it was time to stop being an apologist for my absolute love of clothes and secondhand shopping. I might be an academic, but I refuse to wear clogs and a drab palette. (Filmmaker John Waters thinks clogs are "the most offensive shoe known to man," and I am inclined to agree.) There's too much fun to be had in clothes to limit myself to wearing shades of gray... even if my worldview insists on thinking in nuances and shades of gray. I take pleasure in clothes and in textiles and design, in crafting outfits that are sometimes performative and that wink at my Fairfield County upbringing. Yes, I'm a preppy queer feminist who loves Lilly Pulitzer and Tory Burch (when I find their clothes secondhand, of course). And horse racing. In the words of Walt Whitman, "I am large, I contain multitudes."

So as 2011 draws to a close, I want to take a moment to highlight some of my favorite things this year. First, aside from the vest pictured above (and elsewhere on this blog) and my bright pants, it's also been a great year for orange accessories, although this is hardly an exhaustive inventory: 

Cuff bracelet by Leighelena, Dovecote, Westport, CT

Boiled wool felt ring, Cocoon, Istanbul, Turkey

The stunning Hermès "Voyage en Etoffes" scarf (by Annie Faivre), a Christmas gift from my generous, fun cousins

Believe it or not, however, my wardrobe does indeed extend beyond orange! Here are some of my best finds of the year:

This tunic, by Catherine Ogust, was known as the "Burma" shirt (thank you, Couture Allure Vintage Fashion blog), and probably dates from about 1970. It was in impeccable condition when I found it at Savers last summer for $4.99. Here I wear it with white Trina Turk pants (eBay), a Coach scarf (consignment), a ridiculous pair of sandals that have pink pom-poms (consignment), and a vintage pink Lucite bracelet ($1, thrift store)... plus a wonderfully bright and totally ridiculous Lilly Pulitzer bag that my friend Max bought me. 

In this ensemble I feel like I could have been an extra on the set of The Swimmer. I've never actually seen the film - although clips are available on YouTube - but it was first a fantastic John Cheever story about (what else?) anomie in suburban Connecticut. Seriously, who hasn't felt that in Fairfield County? What was it I was saying about clothing being performative? 

Another clear favorite this year was the Missoni top I found for 3 euros at a flea market in Porto Ercole, Italy, in July:

And I've found some great (non-orange) accessories, too:

Celine scarf, Savers, $4.99

Vintage leopard fur clip earrings, 25 cents, yard sale*

Vintage suede and metal belt, 25 cents, yard sale

Tod's loafers with (yes!) orange tassels, $99 but worth it, consignment store 

*Let me be clear that I would never buy nor wear new fur products. What should the ethics be of wearing vintage fur? I'm undecided. If vintage fur isn't worn, what becomes of it? Landfills? Do people bring their grandmothers' old mink stoles out to the woods and leave them to disintegrate? (I do wear leather, and I do eat meat 2-3 days a week.) All I know is that these things are complicated.

I am happy to say that I had a strong finish to my year in secondhand shopping. This nautical Kate Spade tote was $15.99 at the West Warwick Salvation Army thrift store on December 27. It needed one new $2 rivet to fix the handle. Done and done, and good as new:

Finally, the year ended on a couple of very, very bright notes: I found the vintage pink cashmere sweater at Savers last week, and on December 30, I found this Averardo Bessi top at Savers as well, along with the orange Gap Body t-shirt beneath it. Bessi was a former designer for Pucci who opened his own design house in 1950. Still, with its big bright paisleys, the resemblance to Pucci is unmistakable:

I'm hoping for a 2012 that is characterized by continued good health, published writing (I'll keep the dream alive), falling in love with new books and poetry and music and art, more snorkeling, time laughing with the people I love, seeing Lucero live (they're coming to PVD in April!), personal bests in distance and time for running, and, of course, the new and wonderful secondhand finds that will be revealed in time. 

That seems like a pretty good set of resolutions. 

Happy New Year. Love what you wear, and dress well.

Namaste,

Kelley