Zero Waste Wardrobe III: Pants and Skirts

The first skirt I really fell in love with was at Alaia, one of his full skater skirts with curved seams. It was astonishingly sculptural, with a system of hook closures and taffeta stiffening, curved to dip slightly at the back. I didn't realize until I got home that the skirt had slits concealed all around the waist- here I thought I was getting this modest gathered fashun thing, but it was actually super revealing. I wore it to work a lot because I loved the way it rustled when I walked from the fridge to my desk but then a coworker said something along the lines of "You can't wear that without expecting to get the business," whatever that means so I sold it on eBay and bought a plane ticket to Paris. 

That's when The Real Real was just starting and I got my Louis Vuitton skirt (pictured here, these pictures are already so embarrassing). I was taught every woman should have at least one black wool skirt, one tweed, and one linen, but I think, for the most part, unless you are a certain type of rich white person, tweed is a 90s trend that should die with the Rachel. Since I don't really do summery or seasonal dressing- it's 2017, we are almost completely distanced from the elements at all times now- the black skirt is all I need. Pencil skirts remind me of sausage casing. I got a high waist American Apparel circle skirt though (pictured here), the kind that doubles as a dress, to wear with sneakers when I moved to South Pigalle. It's a surprisingly useful and durable workhorse, even though it skews at least 60 years younger than my general aesthetic.

I acquiesced to the charms of shorts, jeans, and pants only recently. I think Paris, which is pretty casual, softened my stance. I'm ashamed of the J Brand denim I wore before (it's funny, one of the first things I thrifted that I really loved were Junya Watanabe jeans, which my sister still wears today. Back then I was embarrassed to go thrift shopping. Now I'd be embarrassed to shop in a mall). Levi's high rise jeans and shorts (cuffed only, because I am not Denise Richards washing a car in Wild Things) are so much better. I try to spot clean / air out in the sun as much as possible. If they need laundering, I drip dry. I also put coconut oil on my legs before wearing, which gives a nice sheen to the fabric. Ohio thrift shops are a gold mine for vintage Levi's.

I was against black pants because I associate them with pushy Victoria's Secret salesgirls, but I found some flared Louis Vuitton wool pants secondhand that changed my mind. The wool is light enough for summer but warm in the winter, the silk lining gives me the freedom to wear bodysuits underneath, and I feel like a character from American Hustle when I stomp around in them and a pair of patent leather ankle boots. I have leggings I'm happy with also, ethically produced organic cotton from Pact Apparel. They came in an obnoxious box with a plastic window though. I just hate sheer bottoms, and the substantial fabrics in my collection make me feel secure, not exposed. Reading that sentence back to myself makes me realize I really think too much about my clothing, though. I need a life.