Wednesday, January 30

Unintentional Style Icon: Charlize Theron in "Arrested Development"

Granted, I've seen Arrested Development enough times to know my way around a mayonegg and always look for money in unexpected family-owned places. But, with Charlize Theron perfectly executing Rita Leeds' "I got physically trapped in an Anthropologie sale rack and walked out covered in belongings" demeanor, it's a free-for-all of unexplained thought processes and inspirational indeterminate layering I've accidentally begun tapping into. (And, nevertheless, admiring in a brand new way.) Coonskin caps and animal backpacks, floral thermals and fur toppers, knee-length skirts and pulled-up striped socks — it's a certain haphazard mix that's as basic as blocks but still seems aspirational with an I dress as I am kind of angle.

This past weekend, after spending most days indoors and predicting a necessary post-binge walk home from Mission Chinese Food, I threw on everything within an arm's distance once an incoming text deemed it "table's ready!" go time. I didn't realize until my tush had met the vinyl cab seat, though, how incomprehensibly poorly I had dressed. Mismatched, double-puffed and covered in knits, I had become a spitting image of Rita...Leeds' fugly twin sister.

I clearly can't pull off the chic-clash ensemble, as there's a certain aloofness to Rita's process of aimlessly throwing on clothes in the morning that I'm envious of for not being able to accomplish myself. Oversized Abercrombie sweatshirts under fur coats would look bomb for someone like this, but on me, grants early admission to the unkempt soccer mom genre and no less than two dirty looks from Equinox's members.

Something about putting piles of things you like atop other piles of things you like without a second thought is indulgent, not to mention massively appealing. When your ears are going to the prom, your torso's going to the children's museum and your feet are going to your night nurse job, it takes a certain finesse — or child-like brain? — to make the three just sort And while knit beanies with flower appliques shouldn't be appropriate for anyone, why should I waltz around in mismatched textures looking like a poor man's Miroslava when I can perfect a style all my own, down to the teddy backpack that's napping in my closet as we speak?

The most inspiring moment Charlize Theron's goofed-out character has brought our way was clearly consummating a marriage proposal in a pair of strawberry shortcake pajamas. Isn't that really all a girl wants — someone to love them and their bizarre, food-oriented wardrobe? The last time I went to Victoria's Secret (ahem, a full two years ago), I emerged with a pair of lacey underwear speckled with teeny cakes like polka dots, appalling my newly significant other. (Something which, if they looked less like I stole them from a chubby five-year-old, I would have remained upset about.) Either way, shouldn't our loved ones love us for our sometimes horrible, terrible sartorial taste by Pythagorean proxy? I could drag this out into a bigger-picture style sermon entitled "Love Me And My Cherry Pie", but the double entendre and accidental virgin-oriented audience might detract from that actual point. And while this MR F couldn't seal the ultimate deal due to her, well, low mental capacity, I give you a take-home mantra as well as the future inside of my homemade card this February 14th: Love me tender, love me true, love me for all the embarrassing sidekick moments I'll put you through.

(Much better than last year's, I have to say.)

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