Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters

Published on by Lauren Dean SpencerLeave a comment

I’ve been listening to a lot of Elton John lately by way of a very cool remix/cover album, Revamp, and it’s reminding me of my high school years. The 80s. It was an era often remembered as silly with shoulder pads, leg warmers, and lip liner. And while all that was true, Alexis Carrington’s hissy fits couldn’t overwhelm some of the other, quieter, looks from sneaking in. Consider punk rock for instance.

I’ll admit, I was a confused style puppy back then. While I yearned to embrace the punk rocker inside of me, my leanings were pretty hippie girl minus the patchouli (I grew up in Southern California, after all). All this to say: fashion evokes an era, a lifestyle, a way of remembering history.

Since fashion plays an important role as historical marker, the where and how of attaining clothes is a thing. Vintage vs. thrifting. Curating carefully vs. diving for deals. The difference? One place you walk into with well-packed racks of steamed and cleaned clothing. The other you roll up your sleeves and attack a $10 bin of opportunities.

My friend Ruth, she of the impish smile and fabulous dress below, represents to me someone who really sashays down the runway of vintage, well-put-together looks. It’s not fashion that makes a person, it’s personal style. You’ve heard that a million times before, but when you see it, you know it. And her style speaks to something one step beyond the grab&go. (I’m not saying she doesn’t do that on occasion, but it’s more that she knows what she likes and what looks good on her.) I asked her a few questions on the topic of her style.

Me: What’s the first section you go to when you walk into a vintage or thrift store?

Ruth: Dresses. If I could just wear dresses for my whole entire life, I would. I mean, I have pants, but since I don’t have that many pairs, they’re not my go-to selection. Plus sometimes I feel like the ones I have are a little exaggerated. I don’t really throw on jeans and go, although I’m getting back into jeans. But sometimes I worry that things can get costume-y with me.

What do you mean by costume-y?

For instance, if it’s a fifties-style dress, I’ll do hair and makeup that feels like the time the dress came from. It’s hard for me to accessorize with things that aren’t from the same vintage as the actual item. I’m really a top to bottom gal. It would be a challenge to wear combat boots with a 60s dress. At my wedding, I went for some forties spit curls in my hair and silver shoes to go with my dress (below).

So you see outfits, rather than individual pieces?

To me that’s the fun. Dressing has to do with the total package. I’m not gonna psychoanalyze it, but I do feel that’s what getting dressed is about: creativity. And it’s fun to dig for things. There’s a store in Chicago, Strange Cargo, and every time I visit that city, I stop by. I’ve been going there for years. They used to let my friend Katie and I go down to the basement so we could check out all the stuff that had just come in before they’d bring it onto the floor. I like that kind of private shopping time.

I’m going to leave you, the reader, with a picture of this beautiful dress (above), which just floors me since it’s pretty as a picture and vintage and Ruth’s kept it in really good condition!

And one last question for Ruth: If you could go vintage or thrift store shopping with anyone who would it be?

Well you don’t want to go with anyone who has similar taste so you don’t compete for clothes, but you do want someone who knows what you like so they can be on the lookout for stuff you might want. My friend Katie and my daughter, Bluebell, fit all those descriptions.

My friend Ruth: sustainable style come to life!

Who’s your favorite person to dive into vintage or thrift stores with?

The Crown

Published on by Lauren Dean Spencer1 Comment

For a few months now I’ve had purple hair and by far it’s the thing on my body that’s gotten me the most attention from both random strangers and longtime friends. Not since I misguidedly wore the green pleather lederhosen I’d found in a Lower East Side thrift store to my job as a talent producer for a short-lived TV show have I received so much attention for an item on my person. But this kind of focus I’m pleasantly surprised by, as opposed to the former, which made me rethink slightly what my definition of quirky office wear was. The feedback aimed at the color of my hair has been nothing but self-affirming and delivered almost 100% by other women—a fact that reminds me how us females primarily dress for each other, not men. Although I feel that attitude has been hard won with age and confidence: the two driving forces behind my current hair color choice.

It all started when I decided to give in fully to the gray. For a couple of years, I’d been cultivating a pretty good Susan Sontag–like streak, but I was ready to let the whole mishegoss take over, and was making some pretty good headway when I went to the Brooklyn Museum and saw the David Bowie exhibit. Oh, David, seeing you as the Thin White Duke, silver and red streaks running through your updo, not to mention being surrounded by a legion of young ones sporting platinum hair, made me impatient to get some edge.

Not wanting to enter the valley of damage with stripping my hair, then dying—because that’s the other thing about getting older, I’ve got no patience for that kind of painful salon crap—I needed an alternative.

Enter Overtone. Holy crap, people, this stuff is brilliance! It’s a conditioner. It’s vegan and cruelty free. It’s semi-permanent and is actually good for your hair. It comes in a gazillion awesome colors and isn’t expensive. They also have sample sizes so you can find the color that works for you or just switch up your look at random. I’m so in love with this product that I might marry it. (And am in no way sponsored or contributed to by them. This is just pure me:joy.) Although neither the pastel, vibrant, nor extreme silver really took on my head, the purple for brown hair rocked it and for a couple of months now I’ve been purpling it up every week.

When people say they like my hair it’s been a great exercise for me to not become an Overtone sales human and just accept the compliment; to be fine with the attention and feel solid enough in myself to embrace how I appear to others. I’ve always enjoyed standing out for my fashion choices, it’s how to respond when someone says something nice that I always trip over. But as my commitment to being better to the planet in a way I feel is within my grasp and on a life topic I’m passionate about (sartorially speaking), this feels righter than right. So I take it in, say thank you, and usually manage to slip in an Overtone mention. Unless doing so would cause an accident if we’re, say, walking in traffic or holding up the line at the Shake Shack. Staying on point with the earth and my look is both satisfying and challenging, and also soooo worth it.

How about you? Is there something that makes you feel bold, fierce, and good on the planet when you step it out into the world? And also, curious about whether you dress more for the ladies in your life than for the men (after making sure you feel good in yourself, of course)?

Does this make me look…

Published on by Lauren Dean SpencerLeave a comment

Good on the planet, good on me.

Wherein I realize that being both fashion forward and fashion conscious can happen at the same time.

“Remember this: No one is looking at your imperfections; they’re all too busy worrying about their own.” Isaac Mizrahi

That question: Does this make me look [fat, short, squat, crazy, cool, your special fashion-fear here]? It’s so common. So insidious because it’s a collection of words that exposes our rough seams. The frayed edges we want to keep the world from seeing.

For a tiny little while now I’ve been finishing that question with age-inappropriate. Which is a loaded two-word hyphenate I’ll be approaching to some degree like an ornery unicorn with a toothache in these writings. But there’s another way I’ve been turning that question on its head, which is really going to be the main focus of these writings: Does this make me look conscious? As in, does what I’m displaying on my body make the planet look good too?

I love fashion with a passion unabashed. But maybe more I should say I love style. The individual kind. The definition that suggests a person has some interesting ideas about how to express themself through their clothes. Last year I read an article by Ann Patchett “My Year of No Shopping” and on top of the fact that I recognized I had enough stuff, but have never been quite the Maria Kondo type, I wanted to find a way to curb my fast-fashion habit. As an avid thrifter with a Goodwill membership card hanging off my key ring, it seemed a good time to challenge myself and only purchase from places where either the money would go somewhere good (i.e., thrift stores) or the vendor was ethically responsible.

What I want from this blog is to tell you how that funhouse has been going and to share tips on the ways I’ve found to answer “How does this make me look as a citizen of the world?”

Thanks for being here!