Steaming hot turkey

yeah I got something from Poshmark and we all know what

I know, I know! But what can I say? The silk Victoria’s Secret 1980s (apparently; it’s Gold Label in a certain type of rectangle which I’ve now read means that decade) camisole, it spoke to me, it did. It said, enough with the t-shirts, but also, I don’t really do blouses, which leaves limited options for interesting tops. My go-tos are Italian nightgown store top-of-sets, and various silk and cotton button-downs that I maybe wish were my look more than they are. I also have a black silk camisole where the spaghetti straps (not adjustable) always fall down. This does not have that problem, and my hazarding-of-guess on the size front went fine.

Clearly the issue here (well one of them) is that I need to iron or dry-clean it or something, at least wash it and lay it flat. But otherwise I think this is a win. Could be styled with light denim or a black midi skirt or the black flared leggings that are either excellence in early-1990s-does-late-1960s or mediocrity in Aritzia-did-2022 but in any case, I have recently rediscovered this extremely unnatural-material item from my wardrobe and am frankly wasting it on the gym. (As the photo indicates, I’m quite possibly too muscular from these weekly weight-training expeditions, this is really a problem I have.)

In other shopping-of-closet news, I have not rediscovered but discovered-discovered the bottoms of one of those above-mentioned Italian nightgown store pajama sets. I’d bought them solely because they came with a truly gorgeous top, and had been under the impression they were too long. They’re not! And what’s great about them is, I’d been wanting lightweight white pants but unable to rationalize ordering something so impractical. Then I remembered, I already own something so impractical! They are yes somewhat see-through but with a long shirt or with not caring about this, it’s fine.

The big thing is that it has stopped snowing in Toronto, for now at least, so I’m in this frantic wear-the-non-snow-clothes mode. It feels like all my clothes are new.

As for the new item, I guess this is evidence that Poshmark might be a compulsion but is not an addiction in the chemical sense, as I have no imminent plans to buy any more of its wares. And I felt vindicated about the 1980s undershirt when, on a day off, I went to a vintage shop that specializes in tops along these lines, and realized this one is better than any of those. Maybe there is no grand lesson in clothes-shopping: irl vs online, new vs. used. Maybe it didn’t make sense to buy such a top, at 42 years old, but I like it and I’m glad I did.