The Carrie Bradshaw Rule of Fashion

worst5When you put on something and think to yourself, “am I too old to wear this,” it’s probably one of the most fucked up moments of life … especially if you just turned 30 like I did. Because when did I get to the point in my life when I thought I was too old for ANYTHING

For me, it was when I threw on a black choker. You know … like the ones all the Jenners and Hadids are rocking (sign number one), and the ones I wore in the early-90s? I took one look in the mirror and immediately saw myself as Josie Grosie from Never Been Kissed, pretending to fit in with all the “rad” high school girls … terribly.

Like thinking about the fact that I could potentially wear the same outfits as my 14-year-old niece honestly makes me physically ill. For me AND for her.

But I didn’t take it off. Nope. I kept that sucker on. Mostly because I was mad at myself for even thinking something like that (pshh I’m timeless :::hair flip::: also, where is my Retinol eye cream?), and because I live life by the “Carrie Bradshaw Rule of Fashion.”

What is the Carrie Bradshaw Rule of Fashion you say? Well gather ’round kids. It’s time for a Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra lesson on life. 

Carrie Bradshaw was not some 20-something frolicking around NYC in her Jimmy Choos. Oh no. That bitch was in her 30s for most of Sex and the City (I feel like people overlook that fact). Which is SO refreshing, because now I feel like all we see are 20-somethings living off their parents money and seeing how they can out-hipster one another whilst “figuring it all out” :::cough cough GIRLS cough::: 

Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, Charlotte … all in their 30s during Sex and the City. Which oddly makes me feel so much better about what I have going on and not going on in my life right now.

So back to the Carrie Bradshaw Rule of Fashion … she had no rules. She made up the rules as she went. 

She wore shit like this:

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Oh and did we forget about this:

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And HELLO … the Cafeteria look where she met the comic book dude!?

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Did she look in the mirror and say, “hmm am I too mature to rock a belt around my middriff?” “I wonder if my 14-year-old niece and her friends are wearing the same thing?” NO. She didn’t give a shit. She made it her own, and made it work. Age was never a factor in her outfits. They were fun, creative, and expressed who she was as a person. And dammit, isn’t that what style is all about?

Chokers are fleeting fashion … I know that for a fact. But right now they fit into my style aesthetic. Will I go around rocking mom jeans and white Adidas Shell Toes? Well that is something that just does not fit into my style profile … sorry Hadid- and Jenner-lookalikes. 

So next time you think you’re too old to rock something, rely on the Carrie Bradshaw Rule of Fashion. As long as you aren’t rocking ties over t-shirts a-la Avril Lavigne … I think we are good. Because that shit is never okay.

Where Has All The Cou-ture Gone …

So I’ve been on a bit of a Sex and the City kick recently. Maybe it is because if you have the E! Channel or the Style Channel you are bound to stumble upon a marathon. Or perhaps I watch it because I praise the church of Carrie Bradshaw and pray that she will give me a sign. Or perhaps it is because I adore the fashion. Or perhaps it is because I don’t have to watch it with the volume turned down to like one so my mom wouldn’t hear it (like back in the eighth grade days … good times). Who the hell knows.

But I had a thought as I found myself, for the millionth time, drooling over her fake closet that was clearly too small to hold all of that goodness. Where the hell did all the clothes go? The show ended in what, 2004? Sarah Jessica Parker has moved on to making extremely bad movies. The other three well … I think I saw one in a commercial for something or other a couple of months ago. But all of that couture, Dior, Jimmy Choo, Chanel, YSL … when the set faded to black and Carrie’s fake brownstone apartment got broken up into a million tiny pieces … what happened to the clothes?

I was watching an episode during the Adien part deux years and saw her walking down the street with a great Dior bag. Years later, a lot of years later as a matter of fact, and that bag is still fantastic. But for the love of God, I really want to know where that bag is now. Did some lucky production assistant get to take it home? Does SJP have it or one of those other broads? Perhaps Patricia Field has a shrine to the Sex and the City days and keeps it there safe and protected. Or did the unspeakable happen. Did it get tossed away for a better day? It pains me to think these thoughts.

See, when I’m done with clothing … I throw them in a trash bag and donate them. Then again, my clothes aren’t couture. I pretend but alas … they are not. I could never fathom throwing couture into a trash bag and donating it. Then again, people who have couture probably dispose of it in a classier way then in a Hefty trash bag. Perhaps because I can’t afford couture and the thought of how much I would have to work and save to invest in a piece only to donate it for free would send chills trickling down my spin. It might sound shallow … but I mean come on. It is a dog eat dog world out there.

I mean the “Hello Lover,” Louboutins that I think made Loubs Loubs. The Oscar de la Renta pink dress from The Russian, the Chanel jacket she made Adien swear on when she told him about Miranda being pregnant, Carrie’s fur coat from the beginning of it all… I know I may sound redundant here … but seriously, what the hell happened to it all? Dorothy’s ruby slippers are in the Smithsonian for Christ’s sake … are the Loubs there as well?

Listen, as annoying as it may be to watch Carrie Bradshaw lead this ridiculously unrealistic lifestyle, the show is iconic. Our children’s, children’s, children will probably watch it. Why? Because it is an institution for women … and fashion. The fact that I can watch this show … some nine years later and still get fashion inspiration from her … says something.

All I’m saying is … where did the fashion go? Patricia Field … if you can hear me. Drop a sister a line and let me know the couture is safe and sound.