Zig Meets Zag Top

Having spent the last few weeks being That Annoying Person Who Comes to Work With Allergies (That Turn Out to Be a Cold) and That Person Who Does Little on the Weekends Except Will Herself to Recover, I was so happy to be at 85% capacity this week.

[At 84% and below I sleep to the very very last second and rely on my 2 Minute Closet (“pull on yer drawers/head for the doors”) to turn me from zombie to yes, ready to do my best for the cause, boss! employee. From the neck down, anyway.]

Since I was feeling gosh darn zippy this week I decided to debut my new $40 sale purchase, a top made from yet more Missoni fabric-by-the-yard. An item whose pattern embodies pure-d ENERGY and plays to my Persnickety Bohemian side. A rather impractical piece that inspired Mr Vix to (uncharacteristically) make styling suggestions that (characteristically) would have been illegal in at least 46 of our nation’s states and possibly some of its territories to boot.

While I truly have been wearing lots and lots of color this winter, I certainly had no trouble finding things in my closet to pair with the newcomer.

But that’s a feature not a bug, right?

Snag-ability aside, the quite open weave of the Zig Meets Zag Top isn't a problem per se...

...as I have enough layering camisoles, Ts, and tanks to sink a ship/make it work appropriate

In fact I enjoyed wearing my new find so much that I had to seriously talk myself out of subjecting my coworkers to it for the rest of the week.

Luckily, I knew Mr Vix and I had plans to get together with some friends at one of our favorite neighborhood teeth in/shoes on restaurants.


Since our little combo-platter group was for once celebrating multiple pieces of good news, I asked Mr Vix to step away from the fleece in honor of the occasion. He humored me, and then he humored me again by taking a few (emphasis on few, alas) photos of my zigzag top + if Barry White were a skirt pairing.

I also cop to owning plenty of lower-necked layering items for rare nights-on-the-town (in, say, a matte satin rouched pencil skirt)...though when Mr Vix is one's photographer the crookedness of said layering item goes unvoiced

The skirt that seemed like a natural partner for the top is matte. It’s black. It’s stretch satin with front and back rouching that wraps one like a tamale. And one rainy day in February ’09, The Gilded Lily EXHORTED me to buy it for my 40th birthday trip.

So I did. And even though wearing it to live my ho-de-hum life in my casual city seems a little much at times, I continue to enjoy dusting it off when I get the urge to glam it up a little.

I mean hell: Lily’s nearly 70 and running around in below-the-shoulder feather earrings. No matter how va-va-voom it seems to me, a satin pencil skirt is hardly stylistically novel or transgressive. Besides, it does what it can to turn my straight-hipped Rectangle/H shape into an hourglass, and I for one appreciate both the effort and the novelty.

As I call this my tamale skirt (for reasons quite obvious) it's fitting these shots were nabbed in the kitchen---although the lighting was so bad I gave up trying to color balance things

Since I figured satin was enough of a statement for the evening, I tossed on what I wore with the skirt on the aforementioned trip: my freshly rehabbed Awww Ya Big Lug Boots. [Plus a barrette that I blame on my documented shell fixation, but is helping me from looking über-Michael Jackson as my hair grows out.]

Of course I paired stretch satin with my rehabbed Awww Ya Big Lug Boots---it's winter, isn't it?---though the shell barrette I shoved in my growing-out hair is of more recent origin

As for dinner? Delicious, especially after having dulled taste buds for a few weeks.

But more importantly, a mix of giddy and sobering as we all caught up on lifted burdens, worrisome family news, and future hopes. As my friend shared his parents’ long-ago wedding photos—she in her corsaged suit, he dapper beyond belief—it was somewhat unsettling to think about all the changes the bride and groom went on to absorb in their decades together.

Which, since he and I are both a mite prone to the dramatic, led us to think about all the shifts we’ve weathered/observed in the nearly 20 years we’ve been friends.

As we squinted at faded snapshots of a donated wedding cake bedecked in marzipan swans and talked about tough decisions to come, I was suddenly, ridiculously comforted to be wearing a top that referenced repeated highs and lows. I have nothing against an unmarked solid, of course, and my closet will attest to that. But there are times when the last thing one wants to see is a Dinesen-esque blank page staring back at one; especially as one ages, there are moments when a statement that’s unable to be read yet full of potential meaning is only too likely to house a story no one can bear to hear.

7 Responses

  1. Lovely top. Certainly I thought “Missoni” as soon as I saw it. I love zigzags. And in the neutrals? I’d TOTALLY wear this outfit…well except for the ruching. But in general, this is fabulous.

    (…why do most misspell it “rouching?” There’s probably some reason…)

  2. And I thought “Missoni” as soon as I read the title :-). Glad you’re feeling better.

  3. YOU with a persnickety bohemian side??? I just cannot envision this…


    Lovely body staging, doll. Glad your feeling closer to snuff

  4. Ruzanne —


    I worry I’m about ready for a Missoni (fabric bolt) intervention these days since I’m up to 5 or so pieces, but this one is the only super-bold one so I’m rationalizing I can do more should I run into more I like.

    Of course I may need a draping/rouching/rouching intervention too!

    [My go-to dictionaries give rouche as an accepted variant of ruch, but now I’m curious how that came about….]

  5. Ms Katja —

    Great minds think alike, eh? Glad you stopped by for some frivolity…know you are in training mode!

    Ms Linda —

    You know I’m a fussy hedonist. Get me down your way and my PB side will be out in full force!

    Hey, I know: I’ll prove it to you with an in-person visit where I loll in prints and patterns and go for oceanside strolls while you knock out your barn rehab. Deal?

  6. The fishnet, the zigzag, the satin skirt – must have been a special evening out.
    Yesterday I caught myself watching the Chief of the LAPD giving a speech. The real LAPD. I googled for it. The mayor was standing behind the chief. Please tell me, what will I do when there is no more Closer to come and to watch? Will I start jogging?

  7. Ok, that’s hysterical. Real-life people are rarely as entertaining as the fake ones, Ms P!

    And I don’t know what we’ll do when The Closer ends…but I hear “The Big C” is pretty good. Anything but jogging!

    ps Dressing up a bit made the evening out a bit more special. [Also a good check on to-date winter snacking given the skirt only had a finite amount of stretch.]

    These friends are ones we tend to see for weekend breakfast—it’s been a while since we saw each other with fully-opened eyes!

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