The Boundary-Pushing Velvet Frock

Now, as many of you know, the aim of Operation Sparkle is to spread the joys of thrifting, not to be some sort of snarky, cultural commentary blog. That said, it may seem off-putting to read what I am about to write, because it, so closely on the heels of my recent post "Gandalf, This One's for You," seems to imply the opposite. 

But hear me out. As I spend less and less time consuming mainstream media, the more shocked I become at what passes as "entertainment," otherwise know as "stuff apparently worthwhile enough to grace the pages of a national publication." The bar for what is considered "content" is ever lowered, especially when you factor in the tendency to boost about 99% of the material by attaching some sort of celebrity to it. 

As my co-worker said the other day, I am sick of hearing about celebrities. They don't raise their own children, their marriages always fall apart, they don't dress themselves and most of them are incredibly boring and talentless. As this is the case, the bar for what makes a "unique" celebrity is also very low. Case in point: Zooey Deschanel. 

Now, as I stated previously, it may appear as though I was taking the piss out of Zooey Deschanel earlier this month with my Gandalf post, but I wasn't. There I was taking the piss out of Hollywood's depiction of "dorky girls." HERE is where I take the piss out of Zooey Deschanel.*

And why would I waste my time doing so? Well, because just recently, as was brought to my attention by my great friend (and fellow thrifter) Jackie, she was interviewed for the food magazine Bon Appetit  (????why???) and made an incredibly insulting comment about one of the fabrics that I hold closest to my heart, an Operation Sparkle favorite: velvet. 

The excerpt: 

Bon Appetit: What's a girl's can't-go-wrong holiday party outfit?

ZD: A velvet frock. But then, I push the envelope a little more than most girls.

SAY WHAT?

Oh no you DIDN'T ZD! You did NOT just imply that you are so quirky, and edgy, and special that you are actually being some sort of "boundary-pusher" by wearing one of the most classic and loved fabrics of the winter time to a holiday party! 

Now, it is, I admit, unclear as to where this "envelope-pushing" actually stems from—is it the fabric or her ambiguous reference to a "frock?" Now, if she meant "frock" as in "a robe worn by monks, friars, and other clerics; a habit," then yes, I would agree with ZD that she is indeed pushing some boundaries by wearing velvet religious garb to a holiday party (Baby Jesus would love that!). My guess, however, is that she meant "a woman's dress," which is, like, wait, do you consider Urban Outfitters circa Fall 2010 to be edgy? Because here I have my little black velvet mini which was duplicated and sold at UO last year:

Now don't get me wrong, I love my LBVM, but I wouldn't say it is necessarily "boundary-pushing" by any means. If one were to really think outside the box with their velvet frocks, maybe they should go for a shapeless, two-toned, floor-length, jewel-colored, All that Jazz number, like this one.**

If you were SUPER edgy, you would wear something like this crushed velvet, silver mini dress. Unfortunately, ZD will never be able to be as boundary-pushing as the dress' current owner, because it is a man.***

Maybe this is more along the lines of what Zooey considers to be really appropriately wild, because it has flowers on it, and flowers are, like, really cute and feminine. Too bad I got it to emulate the grunge look from the Portlandia "Dream of the 90's" sketch (? also very edgy?).

Two of the wildest velvet items I have thrifted I've since let loose for greener pastures, which possibly indicates that I, as it turns out, am actually not that much of a velvet-wearing boundary-pusher. What would be great is if someone would wear this blue velvet crop top with these black velvet overalls to a holiday party. Now that is what I call a holiday party staple! 

Still, I always have my prince/Prince-inspired purple, crushed velvet vest. Holiday outfit, here I come! 

*NOTE: This post isn't meant to be an attack merely on Zooey Deschanel saying something stupid (we all say stupid things) and the magazine printing it. It is meant, instead, to draw attention to how LAME our society has gotten—to the point where it becomes acceptable to equate "envelope-pushing" in fashion to wearing a velvet dress to a holiday party. 

**FULL DISCLOSURE: I actually forgot I had this dress as it has been sitting in some bag in my basement awaiting a modification session, along with about 25 other items I have purchased over the years with the intent to "do something" with them. If anything though, I am all that more motivated to wear it as it actually is if only to push some envelopes. 

***I'd love to see ZD and Jake Thompson, who I traded this dress to for a series of boxy, over sized black tshirts featuring wolves and soaring eagles, go head-to-head in an edgy dress off. 

Special Trip! to Staten Island; It's a Thin Line Between Commune and Cult

Of all the things that I thought I would end up reflecting on in this post about my special trip to Staten Island, the point at which a commune becomes a cult, was most certainly not one of them. But here I am. I will begin at the beginning.

It all started at my boyfriend J's Birthday brunch last Saturday, when, two Bloody Marys deep in to the meal, sudden unanimous enthusiasm erupted between J, Julie, Chuck and I, at the suggestion to take an impromptu road trip to explore Staten Island. Before we even knew it, we were heading over the Verrazano Bridge in Chuck's Prius.

Here is Julie, double-fisting iphones; researching thrift stores and navigating at the same time.



This kind of devotion and focus moves me.



Fingerboard Road! Hahahaha. Oh! We all had a good laugh. What a magical place, Staten Island.
We were all so innocent then.

Our first stop was Bay Street thrift, one turn off of Fingerboard (ha!) Road.



This is not a picture of Bay Street Thrift. After what happened inside Bay Street Thrift, I was far too nervous to be seen taking a picture of the place. THE SHACK ATTACK! is a mere placeholder for Bay Street Thrift, and, surprising, is a firsthand, and not secondhand, store, located across the street.

Upon entering Bay Street Thrift, my raging adrenaline was quickly tempered by the very tense scene inside. There were no customers in the store, but three (what appeared to be) workers; two men and a woman. All three of them were standing totally silently, and nervously, about the store. One man very awkwardly and mechanically "welcomed" us, while all three watched us all extremely closely as we browsed around. It definitely felt like we walked in in the middle of something we weren't supposed to hear or see, and it was strange enough for all of us to nervously whisper to each other in order to communicate, afraid to speak aloud.

I was not going to let this air of utter weirdness stop me from finding deals, so I delved in regardless, especially excited by the cheaper-than-mainland-NYC thrift store prices.

These are some of our finds, decided on after a very closely monitored dressing room session.



Julie scored this awesome Southwestern-turquoise-printed-studded sweatshirt, for $2.


I found this fantastic lace yoke Western button down shirt, complete with rhinestone buttons.


I have since removed the collar hardware, to make it a little less "Dallas Ladies Who Lunch." You may or may not object to this decision.

Then there is this very special purple printed cropped velvet jacket. It has all the right kind of attitude. It even looks angst-y on the hanger.


After making my selections and emerging from the dressing room, J walked up to me and loudly (what seemed loudly, but was just normal speaking voice) asked me what I thought of a box of edible adult body paints that he had found. Laughing nervously, and wondering what the F he was thinking, doing such a thing in a place like this, I looked around at the utterly humorless staff who I knew would surely not find this at all funny. They did, in fact, not even crack a smile, and I was psychically screaming at J to stop making jokes!

Julie and I went to the check out with our things, and got up the courage to chat up the man behind the counter, who seemed to loosen up when he realized we would be spending money. We asked him if he knew of any other thrift stores in the area, and he was apparently melted by our charm. He said, he didn't "usually give these out, but you guys seem serious", and handed us this:


JACKPOT!!!!! He then kindly recommended that we check out Everything Goes, just down the street.

Regrouping in the safety of the outdoors, and Chuck's car, we tried to make sense of what in the holy hell was going on inside that store. J claimed that the woman didn't even work there, and that he heard one of the men say to her at one point "it's ok to go downstairs now", after which she disappeared down the back stairs. Then we all lamented the loss of the $2 edible body paints.

Stop #2, Everything Goes!



When we pulled up to the store, I was skeptical, as it seemed to have all the trappings of an overpriced, over-curated resale shop (neon sign, the world "vintage"). But overall, I think we were all just hoping for a little more normal shopping experience. This was not to be had.

Upon walking in to this place, we were greeted by a BOUNCER with a WALKIE TALKIE. This, in all my days, I have never seen. A bouncer in a thrift store.

We browsed no less, now somewhat drawn in by what was apparently a permeating, inexplicable weirdness throughout Staten Island. The store was, in fact, curated, but at different levels. Some rooms had really nice vintage, at decent prices, and others were just "nicer" random clothes at everyday thrift store prices. I pulled a sweet 90's halter dress (below) that was only $4, but was conflicted by my desire to purchase it. I had somewhat of a moral opposition to buying anything at a thrift store with a bouncer. But this dress was sweet, and only $4.

The dynamic between the workers at this place was definitely strange as well. Things were equally tense, and the workers seemingly under the influence of a very rigid, omnipresent power structure. When I went to pay for my dress, a women walked by with a box of hangers, and another woman said to her, very sternly, "DO THAT HERE." And the woman obediently stopped in her tracks, and sorted the hangers in the cramped space behind the counter. I bought my dress and got the hell out of there, relying on cell phone technologies to get me back together with my party, who were still inside.

Julie had found a very cool linen tank top, with appliqued zebra stripe-printed squares running down the center, for $4 or $5, that she planned on buying. The next thing I knew, standing out on the sidewalk with J and Chuck, who had also made it out, Julie came running out yelling "I couldn't do it! I couldn't do it! It was too weird in there!", sans linen tank top.


I am now terribly relieved, after all I went through, that I did in fact buy this dress. It fits perfectly, and will surely be a summer staple.

So, in summation. Recounting our adventures, we could not all help but laugh and conclude that the only explanation for the bizarre atmosphere that we experienced was that the entirety of Staten Island was run by some weird Satan-worshipping cult with thrift stores. Hahaha, how the imagination runs away!!!! Or not.

Having a debate coach for a boyfriend comes in handy often, especially when it comes to research. This is what J found when we got back home.

Exhibit A: BIG LOVE ON STATEN ISLAND. Everything Goes. The pun, is apparently, intended. The store is operated by members of the free love commune Ganas, a 20-odd year presence on the island. They have little people! And a very high member retention rate! They must be on to something.

Exhibit B: Rick Ross, an internet watchdog devoted to the critical monitoring of "controversial groups," has a somewhat less ideal view of things.

What did I take away from my trip to Staten Island? That even in the most bizarre of circumstances, you can score sweet deals. And that as much as I love thrifting, I don't ever want to join an oppressive free love thrift store operating commune.

Springtime is for...Goths?

The other day I tweeted (ugh) about "lovin' goths." I am not sure if it is all the True Blood I've been watching lately, or if I 've just been really inspired by this post on Fashionasty, but suddenly, I've been channeling some major Wednesday Addams in my everyday look. Which is rather un-springlike if I must say so myself. But then again, what is springy about lows being in the teens?

One of the best things about thrifting is that you can amass such a mish-mash of seemingly unlike items that flashes of fashion inspiration seem completely random—but they are much more likely to happen than when you just have a closet stuffed with this season's Forever 21 and H&M designer knockoffs.

Sometimes I am suprised with how new looks find me—I certainly wasn't looking to start dressing like a sexy nun (Chris' words, not mine). It just happened. But I'm digging it.

First, the "sexy nun" outfit. I took this school girl uniform shirt with a peter pan collar (courtesy of Everyday People) and tucked it into one of my best thrifted jean finds—the "crack finger pants" with buttons that go up the back of the calves. I threw on a decidedly goth three tier necklace from my grandma Vera (grandmas have the best jewelry...it saddens me to think about how generations to come will only get boxes filled with plastic remnants from Claires) and, of course, dark navy trouser socks (thrifted from the ABC thrift shop in Washburn, WI) and my adorable black oxfords from St. Vinnies.







Then, I threw on this outfit the other day for work (sometimes the best way to get through a long day of work is with a very cute outfit): my striped vintage sweater from wild thrifting with Jake, over the silk button down from the same trip (with the collar peaking out—simply adorable). Then I added this great flowy black skirt I picked up from a Bethesda in Minnetonka, black thigh-highs scrunched down to knee length (thanks to my co-worker Allie, who gave them to me!) and the black oxfords. Truly Wednesday Addams chic!





Finally, I have a "grunge goth" look: my long sleeved black velvet mini dress, topped off with my denim Levi's vest, my grandmother's necklace, ripped black tights and my black buckle patriot shoes.





Who knows how long this goth-inspired streak will go, but no matter what it is (darkly) fun while it lasts!

W.W.S.W.? (What Would Stevie Wear?)

It seems as though all things Fleetwood Mac keep popping up into my life recently. Don't get me wrong, there is always a healthy dose of the Mac present in my day-to-day life, but lately there has been an increase, no doubt in part to the up coming Fleetwood Mac cover night at the Turf Club this Saturday. Not only is Chris' band, Vampire Hands, doing a set, they are including the very lovely Sara Bischoff of Gold and Braid and our very own guest blogger, Molly Harrington, in mix! CAN'T WAIT!

Fleetwood Mac has shown its witchy ways in other aspects of my life as well. Laurie's boyfriend recently likened our blogging personalities to Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie (whoa, whoa, WHOA! I just googled "Christine McVee" to not only find out that I had her name spelled incorrectly, but that "Her future in music was literally written in the stars given the fact that her Dad Cyril was a concert violinist and Mom Beatrice was a faith healing psychic."* How this translates to a extraterrestrial fate, I am not sure. But I am sure that I am going to start reading up extensively on the all the members of Fleetwood Mac). I have also been starting every day at work with a spin (or two) of Rumours. In fact, my new thing is listening to the album as many times as possible before someone comes in the store. It truly is the best way to start the day.

As I have explored here, last fall I was ready for a switch from the preppy neutral look I had been channeling in the summer and went to the obvious source of inspiration—Stevie Nicks (of course.). Even though I love looking to Stevie whenever I need a kick in my style-pants, every time I see an article in Vogue or one of those other fashion rags about how BoHo is back in (again!), and they mention Stevie, I get a bit upset. Because Stevie cannot be tied down by some corporate mass media conglomerate. She can't even be tied down by the internet (see here). She can't be tied down by you or me, but she can be someone that we look to until the end of time as a shining beacon of style glory in this drab world of ours.

So, in choosing an outfit for Fleetwood Magic: A Tribute to the Mac, I think it is very important to assess the age old question of "What Would Stevie Wear?" Now, since it is sort of a metaphysical mindpuzzle to ask yourself what Stevie Nicks would wear to an event that is celebrating, come on, let's be real here people, mostly her, instead of limiting myself to picking out my outfit for this one evening, I thought it would be appropriate to examine which of my thrifted treasures may be the answer to that question.



The quintessential "Stevie Dress." I wore this at Halloween last year for part of my Stevie Nicks costume, so I hope Stevie would approve.



Fanny pack aside, this hat is totally something Stevie would adorn with a bunch of feathers (hell, she'd probably stick a whole bird on there), and wear out to brunch. Ohmygod, can you even imagine Stevie Nicks at brunch!? That is like, the best thing ever.



Stevie loves birds, so I am sure she would dig this huge swan necklace.



TUSK!!!!!!!! Get it?!?!?!



This is Stevie's version of a hoodie.



The Fleetwood Magic facebook invite specifically asks people to "doth your finest capes and geekiest vests and join us." So, yeah, crushed velvet purple vest= the geekiest vest I own=perfect for Stevie (Geeks rule. Not that Stevie is a geek. Stevie is above geeks and all other superficial categories humans attempt to put each other in.).



I feel like this is what Stevie would wear when she was at her most causal (if that was such a thing!) and didn't feel like wearing some sort of gauzy robe. You know, I could see her wearing this when she runs to the co-op or to get her oil changed.



Deep blue cropped velvet top. Sure, the croppedness of this shirt may be a little modern for our 70's muse, but the color and the velvet are surely something Stevie would go for. And the flower pattern. All very Pyramid Collection.



I am pretty sure Stevie would be into this most amazing kimono dress I picked up on Laurie and my first Black Friday Thrifting escape. My only fear is that it would be too earth-toned, and not jewel-toned enough for her.




Like this two-toned purple and magenta floor-length dress. Not really the knock out piece, but this is what the base-layer of Stevie Nick's outfits looks like. And yes, this is totally an "All That Jazz" piece from the past.



A long vintage flowy dress. Why not?



Also wore these with this year's Stevie Costume (I say "this year's" because I was also her back in 2007). On my wish-list: vintage crazy platforms. Stevie would approve.



For Stevie's darker days.

As I sadly will not make it to NYC in time for its annual Night of 1,000 Stevies, I will have to limit my Stevie-appropriate look to this Saturday. Wait. What am I saying? You can dress like Stevie Nicks anytime! It will make lovin' fun, for sure!

Stay tuned for Ms. Molly Harrington's sharing of her own Stevie-inspired thrifted pieces tomorrow—just in time for the Fleetwood Mac night!

*Quote courtesy of http://www.fmlegacy.com/Bios/biochristine.html

Wild Cards!

While Laurie was thrifting items that she felt went against the grain of her inner being, my favorite thing (if there is such a thing!) about thrifting is continuously finding the most magical, weird, unbelievable items that you never even imagined existing (or at least, never thought you would find thrifting). In a strange way, even though these sorts of items rarely have any clear rhyme or reason to them, they are the sorts of items that define who I am as a thrifter.

So...for my second installment on "what Holly can spend $200 thrifting on," I present you with my "wild cards." Each of these pieces caused a major thrifting freak out, the kind where I at once could not believe that the item I had just stumbled upon actually exists, while also grappling with the fact that the piece is now, indeed, mine. ALL MINE!



This first item is actually the one of the few I got at Value Village, which, as it turns out, is much more suitable for classy items. There is nothing classy about leather shorts, however! Bada bing! It is also one of my most "normal"/expected thrifted wild cards. While Jake initially stumbled upon these sexy little numbers, they didn't quite fit him and he was generous enough to pass them along to me.



Equally as classy were these booties, also scored from Value Village. Maybe it was because I was shopping with Jake, who is obsessed with the Nanny and anything leopard print, but I had to buy these ridiculous leopard print booties. Even though they don't fit. I will find a use for them, I promise.

While Value Village exuded class/drunk suburban mom-style, Unique ended up being ripe with wild cards. First a couple of the more tame accessory pieces:



A bright blue snake skin purse. Love the tassel. Things should have more tassels. More tassels=more happy=the world is the better place.



A magenta turban. I have been coveting a turban for quite some time, and hello, this one is magenta. Get off the bus! Only bummer is that there is some sort of gooey substance on the top that I need to remove some how. If I was Laurie, I would have already done extensive internet research on the matter and probably found some sort of goo removal liquid in a basement of a weird China Town factory, but as I am me, the hat is just sitting in a pile of "stuff to be dealt with some other time."



This silver crushed velvet mini dress is all the more hilarious because I was thisclose to purchasing a silver crushed velvet turtle neck at Value Village but decided to pass on it at the last minute. When I came across this little number, it was clear that the universe was trying to tell me something. Plus, as it turns out, velvet dresses are pretty much the only kind of long sleeved dress that I like. And as Laurie has explored here, silver crushed velvet will turn heads even in New York, which really says something about the power of the silver crushed velvet.






Witness this tie dyed JUMPSUIT, which made me nearly crapped myself upon finding, as I have been in the market for the perfect Burning Man outfit, just in case I ever get to go. I mean really, it is a tie dyed jumpsuit. With pockets. To hold my glo sticks and other "things." What more can I say?




Jake was the one who grabbed this top and swung it in my face. I loved it right away, of course. Cropped, awesome 90's floral pattern, polka dots, weird little ruffles on the bottom. He could tell I was intrigued, and then pulled out the big guns—by turning it around.



THE 90'S RUFFLED FLORAL CROP TOP HAS A MOTHER F-ING KEY HOLE BACK!!!!!!!!! GET OUTTA HERE! It's so good, I can't stand it.




This sweater with leather fringe and geo shapes was so good that I actually started squealing and jumping up and down when I found it. I mean, please, just stop. Why can't people design clothes like this any more!?!? The only downside is that next time I go to the all-u-can-eat Mexican buffet, I need to make sure that my leather fringe doesn't swing into the guacamole by accident.