Anatomy of An Outfit

Schott leather jacket + vintage scarf + duck lips.

Mom's old Ann Taylor sweater.

$20 Italian cotton shirt from the flea market; Stetson boots and vintage jewelry.

Spring layering, here I come.

Turn Up For Turtlenecks

This is the "really cute sweater" I mentioned the other week. It's a ladies' drop shoulder, asymmetrical side-split seam turtleneck from Sincerely, Tommy. Serving hella WASP mom vibes in it with my white jeans.

Photos © Sean Santiago

P.S. You can see me some other turtlenecks here, if you go in for that sort of thing.

What I've Learned in 3 Years of Blogging

Is that I'm kind of over it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

I keep writing and rewriting this post in my head—I have so much to say, some of it potentially useful, some of it just a tad self-indulgent. I'll try to stick to the "useful" stuff.

I'm sure by now long-term readers of this blog have noticed that it's not so much about my outfits anymore. I started this blog when I had very different priorities, when I was in a very different place in my life—literally, figuratively, creatively. Over the years it's been fun to have this as an outlet, but it hasn't really turned into...I don't know. Whatever I thought it could be. A job? A platform for my Personal Brand? It seemed, back in 2011 when I started Fruitpunch (née "*fruitpunch") that the internet was a great way to build an audience and Make It Big. Scott did it! Liam did it! Todd did it! Why can't I?

But I've realized that I do not need to conflate my success here with my success as a creative person.

It's not that a successful blogger can't be creative, but the "blogosphere," a term I use loosely to include pretty much anything published on blogs or social media at this point, seems to if not out-and-out discourage real creativity, be at least weighted to advance work that conforms before it disrupts. We're wading through a sea of socially aggregated links, each platform disseminating content to its targeted demographic, trying to figure out what matters and why.

While I think beautiful, original content can live online nicely enough, I don't think the Internet can sustain it.* A piece of content's perceived value is constantly diminished by the function of the Internet, regardless of how next level a site or app's UX may be. Hard work might resonate for a minority, but an increasing number of people who consume your content will do so outside of meaningful context and editorial constraints. It will always be seen—rather, vaguely recalled seven clicks later—as part of the whole, entangled mass.

As more and more people create more and more content, more and more people will think less and less of it—of the effort, funding, talent and know-how it takes to develop a story, a narrative, something that is complete, whole and complex. Standards will plummet and eventually plateau at some level I don't want to have to look at. At the end of the day, taste is not democratic.

Yes, the Internet is great because it allows for a lot of crap to get out there, but also makes it possible for someone like myself to have his say, to share his opinion freely. But the Internet is not "free." It is shaped by our choices, and our choices are shaped by increasingly complicated algorithms that determine what is and is not available to us to consume. It's why Facebook bought Instagram, why Google bought YouTube. Our clicks limit us, define us and determine our value. And this has all happened in an incredibly short period of time.

Anyway, now this is taking a dystopian turn, so maybe I should wrap up. (And yes, as evidenced by all of these pictures of myself, I initially thought this would be a cute "End of the Year #OOTD Roundup! LOL #NYE!" kinda post, but #YOLO.) My point is that I am dissatisfied with the Internet, and less optimistic about its future than some. Blogging is this weird thing that people do, and they do it in different ways, for different reasons. After a few years of doing it (I mean, Jesus, three years is still pretty much nothing, right?) I feel ready to change and evolve, and I feel that this is not really the space for it. So I'm taking my hustle offline. Into print.

Yes, this has been a long-winded-ass post about starting a 'zine. I don't have all of the details yet, because I'm still finalizing them, but interviews have happened, photos have been tooken, and I am putting it out there in the world so that it feels a little more real.

As for the future of this blog, we'll see. It's a shame to stop updating it just because I'm having some sort of existential Internet-induced crisis, but at the same time I am less and less sure of what it is, what it could be, what it should be. Which is overthinking it, to say the least, but again, other writers' blogs are the wind beneath their digital wings, propelling them to new heights as professional spoof Twitter account-havers and suggested Tumblr-ers.

So, long story short, now that we're officially 800 words deep, I'm going to keep it going, doing my thing, and allowing myself more time to do what I'm feeling most passionate about, which is not necessarily this. But not nothing. So keep an eye on social, where I'll be disseminating content to you, my target audience, about how everything is coming along ;p

*UPDATE: I had a nice Twitter chat with Haseeb that I wanted to summarize here to help clarify one of my points. I don't mean to say that there's no hope for the Internet, just that I don't think it's where quality content is born. If you have a great project then the Internet and social media can support it, but I think all properties, especially those born digital, can't exist solely as a blog or a site or whatever. The site is one place where content lives, but so is Pinterest, so is Instagram. Content creators need to account for that going in to make sure that they create a brand that's dynamic and self-sustaining, one that can grow and exist not just on the internet, but via the Internet, using the Internet purposefully instead of just parking your property there. I think a lot of people have done that and continue to do that because there's no overhead, but those people fail anyway because the internet isn't a foundation, it's moving and shifting constantly and that needs to be accounted for.

Thanks & Giving

If the eight-hour drive from New York to Charlottesville taught me anything, it's that Maroon 5 is, surprisingly, more popular than Taylor Swift. I also learned that I do a mean impression of Harry Styles, as long as you've no idea who Harry Styles is or where he's from or what he does.

The trip home was a surprise for my parents. They're hard to shop for, my father ritualistically intoning we children "save our money", my mother inclined to sate most of her earthly needs on her own dime and schedule (like mother like son.) I still bring up the sage green pashmina I gave her years ago from time to time in an attempt to make a point about how impeccable my taste was in college and how if only she'd appreciated it more—texted me photos of herself draped in it while reading The Hunger Games, a smile and knowing look on her face—she could've upgraded to cashmere sweater sets by now.

But I thought it'd be nice if I showed up on their porch. It's the least I could do, right? And so there I was, the night before Thanksgiving, asking them to graciously order in a meat lover's pizza so there'd be something substantial over which we could bitch about American exceptionalism and binge watch the entire first season of Broad City (mother walked out). I also hijacked one of their cars and went ~*sHopPiNg*~.

I bought some art and a few curios from local favorites, plus a new hat that got me compared to Indiana Jones within an hour of its inaugural wearing. Score! I also played dress up in my mom's "future fit" (as in, it'll fit again, in the future) clothing, which she's taken to storing in my old bedroom closet. But, you guys, look how cute this outfit is:

Pretty legit, right? The look is "goth librarian" (always a good look) and I achieved it using a Weekenders skirt, J.Jill blouse and a Banana Republic sweater. Literally all you need to look like a boss is one pair of dominatrix-y leather zip boots.

Shout out to my moms for not balking when her closer-to-30-than-not son came down in her clothes like, "Now I'm going to stand in your foyer and pose and you're going to take pictures and then I'm going to post it all to Facebook," and acting like that's par for the course.

The Agi & Sam School of Layering

So you may remember this look from last spring, but it accidentally got deleted for eternity when I switched blog platforms over the summer and so here it is again. This #OOTD was inspired by Agi & Sam's awesome AW14 collection, which was amazing and totally on my wavelength.

I attempted to recreate some of their layering magic with a vintage shirt, pants and a quilted skirt from Uniqlo and a long Comme des Garçons jacket. You can kind of sort of shop the look, below!

2 Ways with Tone-on-Tone

Apologies for last week's radio silence—I was sick! I was also encumbered by lots of feels re: Lena Dunhamgate and the Rose McGowan situation and told myself I'd write a long thinkpiece about body ownership and language and feminism, but then I fell asleep for four hours yesterday and lost the capacity for engaging the Internet in debate via embedded tweets. Such is life. Instead, I collaged some outfits!

I was inspired by this look to create two tone on tone, loafer-grounded outfits. The first is "pilgrim rocker" chic, which means high waisted, cropped pants with a baggy sack shirt topped off with a cropped leather jacket. I like the play of textures and shades of gray and generally looking like an anguished art teacher. The second look is a little more structured and mannish, but mannish in a Caroline de Maigret way, not like in a man way.

Top look: Jacket United Arrows | Pants 1205 | Shirt Acne | Shoes Marsell

Bottom look: Denim A.P.C. | Shirt Our Legacy | Frames Warby Parker | Coat Our Legacy | Scarf Christophe Lemaire | Loafers Lanvin

You can see more tone-on-tone inspiration on my Pinterest.

Shopping the "Ladies' Section" Gives Me All the Feels

I have sweater dressing agita. It all started back in September: the weather was turning and I found myself coming off a closet-cleaning rampage that left me sans half a hefty bag of last year's layers. I started shopping around, flirtatiously weighing the pros and cons of this knit versus that knit. How was the ribbing on this hem? Those sleeves? Can I settle for a wool/acrylic blend? A marked yearning for a camel cashmere jumper took root, so I sought out the perfect one and found J.Crew's Collection Cashmere Boyfriend Sweater. I headed to the store's Soho (women's) boutique and asked where I might find it.

"Is it a women's sweater?"

Ok, I guess I can forgive that. Someone might not know the J.Crew boutiques in Soho are (unfortunately) segregated by sex. But if I've memorized the name of the item I'm looking for, don't we think I know where I am? Anyway, I confess to the sales associate that I am indeed hunting down a ladies' jumper and proceed to the back, where she thinks I might find it, though she can't say for sure. A huge sale is going on and piles of cashmere, merino wool and cotton-cashmere blends are littered across every table and bench in sight. I show the sweater to another associate (I've saved a picture of it on my phone), who declares it to be sold out. I rifle through more piles of dejected merchandise, feeling slightly insidious as I do so, as if violating the women around me by forcing my man shoulders into a half-zip mockneck that's less forgiving than anticipated.

Eventually I find my sweater, albeit in the wrong color, and the small fits nicely. I resign myself to scoping out the brand's Fifth Avenue location later in the week.

"Do you know her size?"

It's another sales associate, this time a man—presumably a gay man, one who is small, like me. I let him know that it's for me and suppress the urge to be like, "Really?" Maybe America is too PC after all. It doesn't matter—they don't have the camel. Now I'm on this nebulous quest with no end in sight, but that's beside the point. The moral of the story is (or is intended to be): dividing stores by sex is stupid, especially during sweater season, especially when it's a "boyfriend sweater."

Simon Doonan summed up my shopping life in one of his recent trend pieces for Slate: "I grabbed a ladies’ size large and inspected it for bust darts. There were none. Et voilà! Unisex!"

I just get really sick of having to remind people that I know my own body—my waist size, my chest size, what have you. I wish people would stop dividing things straight down the middle as if that's normal or realistic and I'm the one who's lost my way. My favorite sweater is the one I'm wearing in the picture, a ladies' large from the COS capsule collection at Opening Ceremony a season or two back. It fits wonderfully and is gorgeous and I die. And I look like such a dude in it, right? I'm practically a Gap ad—not that that matters or is what I'm going for, really I'm just lazy.

Anyway, that's my gripe. I'll let you know if I find any good sweaters. Let me know in the comments or via Twitter or what have you—do you have these same issues? Or does the cheese stand alone? (Mm, cheese.)

Lunch Date Got Me Feelin' Cute

No, it wasn't a literal date, mom. To celebrate not wearing Birkenstocks, black jeans and an old Hanes sweatshirt for the fifth day in a row I met up with a friend for lunch at Bluestone Lane in the West Village, which used to be my old barbershop, Moustache. The shirt is Our Legacy, though that exact style is basically sold out. They have a similar one that looks a bit heavier? The pants are Carven—I wear them almost exclusively with this shirt because I love the blues together, though over the summer I wore them a lot with my favorite vintage Hawaiian shirt. The sportcoat is A.P.C., the belt is ladies' Uniqlo, and the bag is my ever-trusty Filson.

The café is perfectly cute, I guess, but also sort of highway robbery? Oh my god, you guys, I just Googled this place and found out that they officially call themselves "The BSL Collective Café." I can't, I give up. And I ate avocado toast there! I feel so guilty. I'm gonna go watch Gilmore Girls on Netflix and dream of simpler times.

P.S. Speaking of avocado toast, did you guys know grain bowls are a big thing? It's sort of like grain bowls are the new avocado toast (and I can't even fux with açai bowls). I have to admit that ever since I had the sorrel pesto brown rice at Sqrl I've been a total convert to that bowl life. Nothing in NYC compares, as far as my tastebuds are concerned, but the going rate for this hippie shit is taking a massive toll on my wallet anyway, so I Pinterested some hearty grain-centric recipes to try at home.

Left: photo © Ryan Liebe / Martha Stewart; right: photo © Jeanine Donofrio / Love & Lemons

One involves lentils and butternut squash and the other involves the combo that won't quit, avocado and poached egg. Sidenote: I am so ready for lentil season.

Life Update // Ciao For Now

So I'm headed to Italy today. Which is crazy, and totally hasn't sunk in yet. Sort of for fun, sort of for work. I'm getting really good at mixing the two, for better or for worse. I wanted to share some snippets from the last week or so so that my mother knows what I've been up to (not dating anyone, for the record.) This is something I wore to a party last week:

Photo © Martin Tadashi Reyes

A friend of mine said I looked like Diane Keaton, and I died. But also, can we put that to a vote? What say you, reader? I was wearing loafers at the time, so that might be the Keaton tipping point. Also, why am I staring SO forlornly at those liquor bottles? #BrokebackVibes. More importantly, I have a new DIY project! First things first: the moodboard.

Clockwise from top-left: François Halard / Men's Vogue; François Halard / Vogue; Simon Upton / World of Interiors; via La Maison Bohème.

Can you guess what the project is? I'm reupholstering a chair! With an antique textile! (And my use of the contraction "I'm" is obviously standing in here for "they're" as in "someone else is going to do this for me, if I can afford it.")

Isn't she beautiful?? Well, she's kind of totally disgusting, but for—wait for it—eight friggin' dollars, you can't really do much better. I found this on top of a literal pile of crap at Eddie's Swap Shop. I wanted something more classic and French-ish to redo in this fabric:

Isn't that amazing? It's not actually a fabric fabric, it's an antique saddle bag. More on that later. I'm pulling the color palette for my room from this textile, and it's going to be amazing. Barring a complete meltdown on my part because painting/doing things is hard. This is where things stand right now:

Ok, I'm off to Tuscany (not literally as I write this, but I just wanted to say it that way, so sue me) and will be back with more updates later! Follow me on Instagram if you're into it. Ciao!

Vintage Inspirations for Fall

So I sold off even more stuff over the weekend and opened up an Etsy shop. I'm so serious about paring down! My first sale was my Calvin Klein cocoon coat. I also have some great shoes up for sale on eBay. Change is afoot. Above is some stuff I've kept around, including my beloved Steven Alan wool blazer, a vintage white tee from Quality Mending Co. and my khakis. Below are some pics of David Hockney and James Dean that are on my seasonal moodboard, if you will. Really busy today but more thoughts on fall dressing to come soon. Thanks to Mac for snapping my pic!

 

Photos © Peter Schlesinger / Lost to the internet

Farm to Table Baby

I royally suck at cooking. I do. But I'm stubborn and I like the idea of cooking and being self-sufficient in that neo-homesteader, Pinteresty sort of way. And I enjoy cooking, whether or not I'm good at it.

Most of what I eat at home is vegetarian, honestly out of personal preference (the best meal I've had all season was a salad from Romans, though it should be noted that burrata was involved.) And I feel like I've eaten my body weight in kale over the last few months. I rely pretty heavily on eggs (and occasionally peanut butter) for protein, and can now incorporate them into almost any meal—as long as it involves carbs. (Is butter a carb?) Two particular favorites: roasted asparagus with an egg on top and a rice bowl with fried egg and avocado, which is sort of a whitewashed version of bibimbap. (I also really love this cheap and easy recipe for a poor man's spaghetti carbonara.) You can see more of what I'm eating on Pinterest, duh.

Original photography © Dabito / This Fruit Blogs. Recipe photos via How Sweet Eats and Bon Appétit.

So Brokeback Right Now

I totally love this hat, but think this is maybe too literal a way to wear it. No? But I lurve this jean jacket/scarf combo. Anyway, sorry for the ultra brief post, but I'm working on some blog-related stuff that's taking up a lot of time and energy—but will be totally worth it!

Photos Angelica Domingo

TOROS IN THE ATMOSPHERE

As in, 'Brr, it's could out here, there must be some...' (AKA everything I know about climate change I learned from Bring It On.) Today's look goes out to my momma, who hooked me up with this old Ann Taylor sweater last time I was home. I love the longer proportion of it with my Brooks Brothers skirt, worn here with tights, all covered up in teddy bear fur—basically melding this look with this look. Also of note: I'm wearing a nose ring!

Fruit Fancies No. 10

Clockwise from top-left: Acne | Ami | Illesteva | Miansai | Sibling | Aesop | Acne | Lanvin | Comme des Garçons

Almost exactly a year ago today I posted another raincoat-centric Fruit Fancies—I guess I start subconsciously prepping for "spring showers" come February? Except raincoats are something I can never commit to. I love them, I really do, especially ones as simple and statement-making as this Acne number, but I feel like the nice ones cost a small fortune and then you wear them like, six days a year. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I need to just commit and I'll find myself pleasantly surprised!

UNIQLO SKIRT + ARMY JACKET

Photos Angelica Domingo // jacket vintage // skirt Uniqlo // tights American Apparel // boots Forfex

"I like the skirt. I like the look. It's interesting." So said one lady on the subway, the second that day to comment on this outfit. It's sort of a gray area, as we discussed at length in yesterday's post. It's a skirt, but...it's not really feminine. It's pretty...butch? I've loved it since I saw it on the lady mannequin in store, though I ended up buying it online because they didn't have it in my size in like, two different locations #SOML. I paired it with this totally quiche vintage army jacket that I found for under $20 at Beacon's Closet. For whatever reason, I seem to have an affinity for that vintage army look—my dad's old duffel bag, the Filson briefcase I tote everywhere.

This look is a great example of how to mix old with new, how to marry butch with theoretically femme. Plus, it's so next lev with my Forfex boots, I can't even. Inspirations for this outfit came from far and wide, by which I mean Instagram (below, left) and Pinterest (below, right). I'm just really feeling black & navy layers in unexpected lengths, what can I say? Also, kudos to The Sartorialist for igniting my passion for a quilted skirt in the first place.

I feel like this is my man-spin on a trend Who What Wear reported on, the frilly dress with a combat boot. Obviously this isn't quite the same, but the idea is there! Check out my other skirted looks here and here. Which is your favorite?

Call Me Marcello

It's been just over three years since I made the acquaintance of the infectiously stylish city that is Florence. Well, it doesn't infect everybody because that's a lot to ask of such a popular tourist destination—once you go fanny pack, you never go back—but the city is still an amazing place for style, design and culture. Like Paris, it's a city for which you don't really need an itinerary. (In fact, I'd recommend against one.) Put on your most comfortable least ugly shoes and hit the streets, turning random corners, stopping for pizza and gelato, snapping pictures all the while because everything will take your breath away.

Florence is the city in which my passion for vintage came into its own. It's also where my interest in photography really took off. The light in Florence is insane, for lack of a better phrase. It's so beautiful, wherever you look, it pulls you outside of yourself. The way it falls on buildings and plays off rooftops, throwing the city's famous architecture into relief—it's like living in an Instagram filter. Or like being in Italy IRL. IDK.

An experience like that changes how you see things, how you taste things, how you use all of your senses. You have to slow down to ingest all of the textures, the colors, the smells, the people. A father walks his daughter to school, her pink backpack slung over his shoulder; a woman bikes by with her purse stowed in the front basket; a gentleman werqs lime green pants while out for a Sunday stroll with his wife. It's not a remembered still frame from a Merchant Ivory film, it's living and it's breathing, it's quiet and yet it's full of passion. And they have really good spaghetti.

Given my severe lack of fundage I probably won't be making it back to Italy any time soon. But I was feeling inspired by the recent menswear shows to take a sartorial cue from the birthplace of Bertolucci and Fellini and strike some poses in NYC's own Washington Mews. You can take the boy out of Italy, but you can't...oh, you know.

Photography Angelica Domingo & Sean Santiago // all clothing & accessories vintage

HAN KJØBENHAVN TOTE

Top photo © George Elder for Four Pins // bottom photo Angelica Domingo

Han Kjøbenhavn is a relatively new boutique in SoHo—they opened at 27 Prince Street last spring—that gives you the world's cutest tote bag with purchase. Least offensive branding ever? I think so. I was snapped carrying it (and wearing my John Smedley beanie, vintage varsity jacket and the black jeans I bought from the brand) outside Capsule Market last month. Also of note: the store's interior is to-die-for, as you might expect because Scandinavia. Check it out!

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