You ever do that thing, where you’re fat -- and I mean like really fat -- and you go to the website of one of your favorite clothing shops, and without thinking you just click on “dresses,” forgetting that most of what is sold on said website is not your size, and you have a brief glimmering moment of going WHOA LOOK AT ALL THE DRESSES before you realize you have accidentally strayed out of the plus size ghetto and none of this is actually in real life available to you?
It’s the WORST, right?
March is the time of year when my south Florida born-and-raised self starts to go a little mad with the seemingly endless cold grey that is the hallmark of winter in New England. Which sucks for me, as I have a long way to go before it is actually warm enough for me to go out wearing only an unlined denim jacket, even though I’m already doing so. I’m just shivering a lot.
So while I’m planning my future garden and pulling out my most obnoxious florals from their long winter slumber WAY in advance of these being feasible things to do, I invariably start to feel a little anxious. Seriously, I don’t get spring fever, I get spring anxiety, because I guess deep down I am afraid that the sun will never shine again and this is not merely the winding down of winter but is actually an impending force that will swallow up all the warmth and goodness ever in my world, like The Nothing from "The NeverEnding Story." Like I’m just now at the part where my horse dies in the swamp and everything seems hopeless.
That was probably hyperbolic. But whatever, late winter is hard on my brain, is all I’m saying.
What helps? SHOPPING for spring dresses. Of course. I mean really. If I can’t force the sun to shine and the flowers to bloom, I can at least drop funds on the promise of a future in which I can wear a dress that looks like it was made out of somebody’s picnic blanket. It’s called OPTIMISM, you guys.
Lavender is supposed to be calming, right? Wait, that’s the herb, not the color. Whatever. Pretend this dress is an herb. What with the floral embroidery bits bordering the hem, that shouldn’t be super hard. We’ve been over my enjoyment of weird floral border effects before. It’s like I’m walking through an invisible garden in my mind and the invisible flowers are leaving pretty blue psychic imprints on my DRESS. If that doesn’t sound totally sane I don’t know what would.
eShakti -- the shop whence this dress is sprung, and one of my best-loved sources of clothing all year long -- can be a little hit or miss with seasonal changes. They tend to be kind of literal. For example, they’re putting out stuff for spring already, so if you need some gingham, right now? eShakti has GINGHAMEVERYTHING. I like looking like I’m wearing a kitchen tablecloth as much as the next person, but even I’m a little over gingham already, and it’s not even halfway through March.
Gingham (and pastels! lord, the pastels) invasion aside, I’m really enjoying a few of their newest additions. Like this blue and green checked dress.
eShakti’s designs frequently cross over that fragile line from “retro inspired” to “1950s housewife costume,” but I have to admit this totally works for me as I usually prefer costumes to dressing, like, in a way that won’t get me stared at by strangers. Will it make me look like an extra on the first season of "Mad Men"? SOLD. (I’ll stand in the background during neighborhood barbecues; you’ll know me because I’ll be the one eating a hamburger like I don’t give a fuck).
I’m a little obsessed with this precious (and even a bit twee) little cut-out shirtdress, with its teeny tiny little ditsy floral in the palest-ever peach. Bummer this will inevitably be one of those dresses which will never satisfy the vision I have in my head, which is of me wearing said garment with charmingly distressed brown harness boots and a lacey cardigan whilst carrying a notebook filled with brilliant fiction I’ve written and maybe a bunch of wildflowers just because I’m fun and quirky like that.
The real version will probably have the same outfit components BUT the cutout bit at the neck will never quite lie right so I’ll fuss with it a lot and I’ll probably spill something on myself and the notebook I meant to fill with my genius will instead hold a list of things I need from Target and several pages of strange shorthand notes about mangoes and hand sanitizer which will make sense at the time I write them but will never solidify into recognizable coherence again.
Hi, this is my life.
Oh good, here’s something more cheerful. I go a little nuts for short shift dress in anticipation of warmer weather, because it’s basically like running around in a shirt with no pants a la Porky Pig. Running around pantsless is really all I want to do in the spring and summer (and the rest of the year, now that I think about it).
Plus, the eyeball-punching pink of this version is aggressively happy. It would probably beat up the previous sad-notebook dress if you put them in the same closet together. Like putting two Betta fish in the same bowl. I have no idea where I’m going with this analogy.
Too dull? I like a nautical-inspired dress, even though it means I’m probably a hair’s breadth from shopping at Talbots. I fear this eventuality every day of my life past 35.
I still wouldn’t wear this dress with a red sweater, though, lest I mistake myself for my own fourth-grade teacher.
UGH this is so fresh and crisp and green I could just cry. It makes me long for the opportunity to frolic through a meadow, or even just a parking lot not still heaped with 10-foot piles of month-old grey snow.
Screw it, let’s go all the way, and bring on the halter dress, because what is more spring-ish than THAT. I can’t actually wear halters, because I constantly feel like they're trying to strangle me, which is weird because my boobs are frankly pretty small (I wear a 44B, and this is why I’ve never capitulated to your oft-repeated demands that I do a fatshion lingerie post -- because I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WORKS FOR NON-TINY BOOBS; there, I admitted it). I have halter panic.
But this dress is way cute with its cheery yellow floral and I’d sort of like to buy it and sew the ties into place like regular freaking straps, which I’ve done with many a cute halter that I’d never wear in the manner its creator intended. Do any of you actually LIKE a halter? My impression has always been that many women just sort of suffer a halter because they like the rest of the dress. See how clothing manufacturers oppress us.
So there you go, your first fatshion post in three months and it makes basically no sense. Are you shopping for spring yet? Or is nobody thinking about spring and this is just yet another example of the weird ways in which I self-soothe when I can’t see the sun? Or both? Tell me honestly.