“I like your top,” my friend Cy said to me.
“Thanks. It’s a skirt,” I replied.
“Yup. That’s my quirky girl,” M. chimed in.
I remember this conversation from this summer as I slide on a pair of Levi 501s that are older than I am and once belonged to my father. I’ve been wearing these “boyfriend jeans” with ballet flats for nearly 20 years—before they are made fashionable by Katie Holmes (and possibly her stylist).
Quirky. My fashion sense has been called preppy, classic, casual, even elegant, but quirky is the one I wear with honor. Granted, I’m not always wearing skirts as a top or a dress; most of the time I’m wearing a uniform of jeans, tank top, long cardigan and ballet flats. Looking back on my fashionable life I have definitely had my moments:
- My freshman year in high school I wore men’s boxer shorts with a kilt pin at the crotch. I remember the outfit perfectly: the boxers were white with red diamonds and I wore them with a red pullover sweater vest that I got at the Angel View Thrift Store with a plain white T-shirt underneath and white Keds (no socks of course).
- I wore a vintage white dress with a vintage black breaded cardigan to the first bar mitzvah I ever attended. I was 13, and this was before wearing vintage was cool.
- In college I wore a flowered button-up pajama top, which I had cut the collar off of, with jeans. I’m not sure anyone knew that it was part of a Victoria’s Secret PJ set.
When I look at my closet now, my favorite items could also by considered quirky: orange cargo pants, a brown and white Trina Turk caftan, a key hole halter top also designed by Trina Turk that I wear with a white tank top underneath, a khaki skirt that has a huge beaded white and silver starfish on it, a pair of navy shorts with embroidered white whales and skulls on them, mirrored silver Stuart Weitzman flats (that I happen to wear with all of the above) and gold flat gladiator-istic sandals that are embossed with lizard print.
Finally, I believe that my quirkiness was sealed when it was en vogue to compared your group of friends to the characters in Sex in the City. My friends deemed me Carrie-esque.
“Because I’m the writer,” I said.
“No, because you’re quirky like her,” they replied. I’m happy to join the company of Diane Keaton and the aforementioned Bradshaw. Otherwise, I might blend in too much.