It’s a Mood

Oak + Fort top (similar)
Zara jeans (similar)
Rouje boots (similar)
Sezane handbag
ASOS beret
Vintage belt (similar)
Vintage necklace (similar)
Mejuri ring (similar)
Location: Saint-Boniface Cathedral – Winnipeg, Manitoba

Years ago, I promised myself I would stop playing dress-up for the sake of taking blog photos. At that point, the result of building a wardrobe based on outfits that I fantasized about having somewhere to wear was that, in my daily life, I wore the same pair of jeans and sweater on repeat, while the beautiful things I owned hung mostly unworn in my closet. But these days, getting dressed is the equivalent of dressing up. Although we aren’t technically in quarantine anymore, we probably should be. The places we can go and things we can do are increasingly limited. Every time I put together an outfit, I ask myself why I’m bothering to dress up. Who is it for?

And the answer, inevitably, is no one but myself. The mood, in 2020, is one of general futility and, thus of self-indulgence. We’re at a standstill, moving neither forward nor backward. But months are passing, months we planned to spend going on adventures, making memories and achieving those goals. Most of us, myself included, have done virtually none of those things. And we don’t get these months back at some later date, so they are, in essence, time wasted. If there is nothing to experience or achieve, all that we’re left with is making ourselves happy.

That’s sometimes easier said than done. My mood in 2020 is I’m bored of everything. Everything I love that I can do, I’ve done dozens of times over by now. Reread all of my favourite books. Watched every TV show I’ve ever enjoyed, and every one I was ever curious about, too. (The same goes for movies.) Given up buying anything buy my favourite wine, even though it’s unjustifiably expensive in Canada. Ordered more takeout than I ever normally would, because I don’t want all of my favourite restaurants to close. I can’t bring myself to count the number of afternoons I’ve dedicated to planning fictional holidays. What’s left? Outfits. When I run out of everything else new and exciting, outfits are always there.

And since we can’t travel to experience life in a new way, I dress to experience life as a different person. Just for a day. I love flared jeans. And I love styling them in a more modern way. But, inevitably, when I own a pair, I find myself thinking of the late sixties. I imagine anti-Vietnam protests, and envision myself as a tertiary character in The Trial of the Chicago Seven, because to me, those moments in history are as much about what happened as what people wore while it happened. (Someday, future women will dress in our oversized sweaters, skinny jeans and ankle boots to experience the life we’re living now vicariously through our outfits.)

The next thing I know, I’m pairing my flared jeans with vintage pieces from my mom’s closet, carrying one of Ian’s retro cameras to complete the Weather Underground-inspired ensemble. Am I playing dress up? Probably. Did I buy anything new to do it? Not this time. And even if I did, no matter what promises I might have made, in 2020, I can forgive myself for it.

And I’ll have to, because I’m shopping to suit my moods and whims, too. My current mood is holiday in Paris. A box of berets, turtlenecks and Jane Birkin-inspired sunglasses arrives this week, and a shipment of more wide cut jeans isn’t far behind. I can’t be in Paris, for now, but nothing is stopping me from dressing for it. At this point, I don’t know if anything could stop me.

This outfit is a mood. And that mood is, quite simply, if it feels good, do it. That’s the only way we’re going to survive with our sanity intact.

Shop the Post