ISO: the perfect black skirt

a single-item haul (no shein-esque overconsumption for me, thanks!)

I used to vehemently believe in the power of wardrobe basics. A capsule wardrobe, or at least the elements of one, was preached as the solution to my long-standing issues with getting dressed in the morning. After consuming lots of 2012-era blog posts and magazine articles, I started stocking up on plain shirts, versatile pants, and neutral-colored shoes.

But the very items that were supposed to save me from outfit paralysis had just made getting dressed harder. All of the plain, shapeless pieces left me uninspired; any outfit I put together just felt so not me! So the white t-shirts, neutral tank tops, and standard issue button-downs sat, untouched, until I finally purged them years later. Needless to say, the relative lack of utility of all of these “essentials” left a bad taste in my mouth.

While the definitions of a capsule wardrobe have expanded into something more universal, applicable to a wider range of aesthetics, I spent years rejecting the entire category of basics. Of course, this made it nearly impossible to get dressed; everything I owned was a statement piece. And though I’m a fan of maximalist fashion, it’s just not my vibe.

Still, I had to fight my subconscious to build a closet full of pieces that might be useful. I rejected jeans for years; now, after finally finding a perfect pair, denim is an essential part of my workday and weekend uniforms.

Armed with the evidence that basic doesn’t have to mean devoid of personality, I’ve started yearning for a black skirt. Something chic that could be dressed up or down, worn over tights or with chunky sneakers. I’m an A-line skirt evangelist - the baggage of being pear-shaped - so it needed to have some structure, too. 

something a la this iconic look from Ms. Bradshaw. no top hat for me, though

Shopping is a muscle, and I haven’t been shopping much over the past year. In LA, my dad and I did our customary perusal of the after-Christmas Saks sale. And I occasionally flit in and out of stores after work. But my most frequent destinations are places like Sephora and the nearby Japanese grocery.

Needless to say, I’m a bit rusty.

The lack of shopping is an attempt at intentionality. I love being a mindless consumer as much as the next girl, but the apartment’s single closet has necessitated a more discerning eye. Hence: the single-item haul. I know what I want, and I refuse to be derailed!

When searching for one specific item, TheRealReal is my go-to. I love the free dopamine hit of a good deal (everything is discounted!). More than anything, though, I appreciate the utter lack of merchandising. Every item gets the same treatment: draped lifelessly over a standard-sized mannequin. Plus, the variety is unmatched. So many brands! Here’s what I found…

Contestant #1:

Short and flirty, but not too flirty for work, this silk Carolina Herrera skirt caught my eye for its shape and obvious structure. I’m doing my best to be more cognizant of fabric composition, so the 100% silk is also a win. It might not be an exact match for what I want, but it seemed like a good omen that I was on the right track.

see? no merchandising at ALL

Contestant #2:

I love a mid-length pleated skirt. And look at this one from Marina Rinaldi! From the pictures, it looks breezy enough to pair with a t-shirt and sneaks, but chic enough to wear to work or a nice dinner. Very promising.

the multi-layer detail?? please

Contestant #3:

This might be too formal for my purposes, but I’m still a fan of this silk Escada maxi skirt. On to the next!

Contestant #4:

I’m always a fan of St. John (my mom loves their blazers). This skirt seems to have HUGE potential: from the defined waist to the just-above-the-ankle length, it’s almost exactly what I had in mind. We’ll see if the vision can come to life.

cinched waist + volume is *chef’s kiss*

I am being brave and practicing restraint before ordering these… but if they’re not taken in a few days, I’m going to order #2 and #4. Fingers crossed!

XOXO,

Madeleine