I don’t much care for the word blouse. I used to shudder when my mother said it: “Just wear a nice blouse and a skirt.” Yuck. I placed it, mentally, in the same awkward language category as “clogs” and “slacks” — both bespeak a certain fuddy-duddiness of which I want no part. Guys, blouses need a re-brand, badly, because I love a good blouse, but I shy away from its handle, more often referring to it as “a top,” which ain’t right, either. What shall we call them? I feel like something soft and melodic like lilamine or shereen would do the trick. “What a lovely lilamine you have on!” “Where did you get that shereen?”
I’m out to lunch today, WHEEEE. I just treated myself to a mini spa day and am sitting here with my head in the clouds.
Get to the point, Magpie:
I’ve been on a blouse hunt. (Ahem, a lilamine hunt.) While I recall winters in Chicago as where all good fashion goes to die, I’ve had many occasions thus far in New York to wear something a little more festive and statement-y — the dinner out with friends, the drinks with a fellow blogger (eeee, I just had the loveliest evening with the amazing Mackenzie, as beautiful inside as she is out), the show we caught at the Guggenheim (admittedly, it was Peter + The Wolf — for kids!! — but it still required something a step up from jeans and a sweater).
I love the casual but UBER STYLISH vibe of the chic pea above, wearing this asymmetrical Rejina Pyo blouse (on sale) — and below, a few other items on my blouse-hunt wishlist:
+This Caroline Constas (on sale!)
+This Red Valentino (#obsessed).