Every time I go back to my instincts – my trends-be-damned personal style, my very public political beliefs, my gender-bending accessories and even my tendency to fall for “men’s drinks”* in men’s bars while flirting with too many men – I am newly surprised at how, obviously, I should have been twenty in the twenties.

“Flapper in the 1920s was a term applied to a “new breed” of young Western women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, listened to jazz, and flaunted their disdain for what was then considered acceptable behavior. Flappers were seen as brash for wearing excessive makeup, drinking, treating sex in a casual manner, smoking, driving automobiles and otherwise flouting social and sexual norms.”

Oh, yeah. That’s me. But isn’t it also almost every twenty- and thirty-something woman I know these days?

In every generation, fashion reflects the struggles and triumphs of the period. It was no different in the twenties, and flappers were leading the way. In a period of such opulence (history reminder: this was just after World War I and before the Great Depression) women focused on their power at home. Their boyish hair and forays into speakeasies were a symbol of their equality with men, and their resistance to being treated like the “fairer” sex.

“Changes in fashion were signs of deeper changes in the American feminine ideal. The short skirt and bobbed hair were likely to be used as a symbol of emancipation. Signs of the moral revolution consisted of: premarital sex, birth control, drinking, and contempt for older values. Before the war, a lady did not set foot in a saloon; after the war she entered a speakeasy as thoughtlessly as she would go into a railroad station. Women had taken to swearing and smoking, using contraceptives and raising their skirts above the knee and rolling her hose below it. Women were now competing with men in the business world and obtaining financial independence and, therefore, other kinds of independence from men.

The New Woman was pushing the boundaries of gender identity, representing sexual and economic freedom. She cut her hair short and took to loose-fitting clothing and low cut dresses. No longer restrained by a tight waist and long trailing skirts and the need for a man’s help at every turn, the modern woman of the 1920s was an independent thinker. [...] The flapper epitomized the prevailing conceptions of women and her role during the Roaring 20s. [...] She refused the traditional moral code. Modesty, chastity, morality, and traditional concepts of male and female were seemingly becoming invisible. The flapper was making an appeal to authority and was being attached to the impending “demoralization” of the country.”

And, of course, that’s exactly what’s happening now. Though contraception has become a free preventative prescription under health care reform, right-wing religious groups are still wringing their hands over dirty, dirty women having dirty, dirty sex. As more and more of us consider the idea of non-monogamy and how it relates to feminism, the same religious right groups are comparing multiple sex partners to sex with animals. Us crazy ladies (and the men, too) are being told that all of that sex and red lipstick is demoralizing our country. Sound familiar?

That being said, my new short bob haircut, orange-red lipstick and certainty that men and women should be treated equally, in and outside the bedroom, want to congratulate you on being a part of the resurgence of the flapper – twenty-first century style.

Quotes from Wikipedia, which was a surprisingly accurate and concise source. Emphasis mine.
*Bourbon, whiskey, beer…I tend to like ‘em better than wine or mixed drinks. Lindsay loves gin, which is probably also considered a “man’s drink” by polite society. Hm.

There’s this new-old trend, coming back to haunt anyone that played in the fashion sandbox in the early nineties.  Cropped. Cropped sweaters, cropped t-shirts, cropped jackets…it’s everywhere.  What do the Demoiselles think of this trend?  Well, it’s complicated…

Jen: The cropped shirt has one thing going for it that the nineties lacked: it’s being worn with high-waists. Pairing a baggy, cropped sweater with a pencil skirt is cute; pairing a cropped cardigan with flat-front, high-waist trousers is quirky and shape-flattering. So, in 2010, I am giving cropped shirts two thumbs up.

Lindsay: …
Lindsay: I’m uncomfortable. I know how I’d like to see a cropped item of clothing work, but I feel like cropped sweaters and tops can be compared to the legalization of medical marijuana. You can let people have it, telling them it should be used in specific ways, but you know they’re not going to use it that way. I fully expect to see [more] cropped tees over low-slung jeans and bare midriffs abound. Not to mention, while I love the silhouette of a tight-fitting pencil skirt with a cropped, chunky sweater over it, I’m a fan of versatility, and I’m not sure that a cropped top gives enough options to get my two thumbs in an upright direction.

Jen: So, you’re uncomfortable about cropped tops for the same reason I’m uncomfortable with leggings.

Lindsay: Tou. Che, my dear. Leggings-syndrome, indeed. The last thing I want to see is a further 1980s revival, and unleashing croptop approval into the world makes my palms sweat.

Jen: Then what do we tell our readers? Do we give them some basic “cropped top dos and don’ts?” Do we tell them to avoid the trend altogether? Or do we just cross our fingers and…hope? The world is watching, Lindsay.

Lindsay: We tell our readers to not be awful when dressing themselves! If that includes cropped shirts and sweaters, then they need new glasses. (That’s right, you filthy hipsters!) I say try it with high-waisted skirts and pants, but the second you start showing off your belly-button, step away. Once you get comfortable re-living Flashdance, there’s only a very small chance of recovery.

Jen: Agreed. And I’ll add something I rarely say: do two trends at once. Wearing cropped sweaters in neutral tones, like gray, tan and cream, will appear less eighties-tastic than jewel tones and other bright colors. And for God’s sake, do NOT pair them with hooker boots.

Here’s an excerpt of a conversation from a post Lindsay (f/k/a Elle) and I made in July of last year:

Elle: Well, I like [skinny jeans].
Jennifer: I just…I can’t get down with them, Elle.  They’re…they’re…
Elle: Don’t say it.
Jennifer: They’re tapered pants.
Elle: They’re totally different. They’re not cut the same as those atrocities from the eighties.
Jennifer: They’re totally the same. Next thing you know, we’ll be wearing leggings with footie straps.

Let me just put on my five-year-old-face and say,
“TOLDJA SO.”

Kova & T Oxy Leggings: $110.00

One hundred and ten dollars.  One. Hundred. And Ten. And they’re shiny and liquid and they not only have stirrups: they have weirdly-placed stirrups.

Velvet Destiny Leggings: $35

I had these.  No, really.  I wore them with this pretty pink, purple, black and white floral dress, and white patent Mary Janes.  My dress was fluffy, and I had a perm and doughnut bangs.  I was five.

Sooooo sexy.

Kova & T Lace Leggings: $165

1985 Madonna meets homemade American Apparel ads.  Wear with a sheer triangle bra and bright pink lipstick.

Citizens of Humanity Stirrup Legging Jeans: $172

For when you need your jeans to stay put under your riding boots while you’re wrangling cattle.  Except that no, you can’t wear these while wrangling cattle, because they have no discernible pockets.  And no discernible anything else.  Except stirrups.

Can someone explain this stirrup trend to me?

Plaid. We’ve both been back and forth on this trend for a while.  Can it be done in a modern way?  How long will it last?  Moreover, do we even care?

We went on a research spree, looking for the best (and worst) plaid options online.  Some of them are seriously drool-worthy (see: DSquared) and others…well, you’ll see.  If you find something you like, click the picture – it will take you right to the product page.

TRENCHES

Elle: I hated the jacket on the left when I saw it. It looked dirty and muddy… But once I got to see a larger-format photo – pure love. I absolutely adore the layered, similarly-hued prints and, from afar, they almost have a brocade look when combined. Naturally, the jacket on the right is one of our favorites. We featured it in our Belted Jackets post a while back, and haven’t stopped loving it (especially since it dropped to under $24!). It’s easy, and the possibilities are endless. Plus, it’s nice to wear a plaid jacket without looking like a catholic schoolgirl, non?
Jennifer Nicole: At first, the jacket on the left seems pretty busy, but the more I think of it on an actual body, the more I love the dimensions of it.  That damask-over-plaid pattern is interesting enough to be timeless – you can wear it long after the plaid trend is over.  As for that cranberry trench: as Elle mentioned, we’ve already posted about it once. Now that it’s on sale, it’s an even bigger “yes” from me.

SHOES

Jennifer Nicole: Oh, Elle.  Why did you have to come across those gorgeous boots by DSquared?  They’re above my price range, but their counterparts by Type Z are also incredibly stylish.  They both use understated, classic plaids, and follow the boot trend for fall…a great combination.
Elle: I ruined our night once those DSquared2 shoes popped up on my screen. They also come in a pump (DSQUARED2 Plaid Platform Pumps) which we loved almost as much as the boot version. We debated about adding another shoe that wasn’t a bootie to the mix for this post, but when we came upon the ever-inexpensive Type Z booties above – we knew that plaid was made for booties way more than it was made for pumps. Can you imagine these with black tights and a mini-dress? Short skirt, long jacket? (Cake, anyone?)

SHORT JACKETS

Jennifer Nicole: I love that belt! In fact, the that first jacket has a really great shape – it’s perfect as a work-to-happy-hour coat.  I’d wear the second one as a casual option: it’s far better than a sweatshirt or bulky coat.
Elle: I want nothing more than to grab that dark plaid coat on the right, grab a pair of skinny-skinny jeans, and some amazing booties, and just go walk around the city, being a well-dressed (& comfortably warm! – that jacket is lined with fleece, y’all!) woman in autumn. Plus, the hood would keep me (& my hair) safe from the evil winds of Chicago. The lighter gray jacket on the left is adorable, and really effing classy. You could wear it casually, or for work – think about the “new” power suit = you know that jacket needs to be involved.

TOPS

Elle: I can’t express how badly I need that plaid, chiffon top (left) in my closet. I don’t even wear colors, but I just want to take that shirt, belt it, and add some long, vintage-y necklaces and bangles, don’t you? It seems like the easiest thing to throw on in the morning (or afternoon, if you’re me) and run out the door. OH MY GOSH, imagine it with a leather jacket. Do it. So good, right?
Jennifer Nicole: Cuffs!  My favorite trend for fall.  That first shirt is my favorite – I love the length and soft color – but the second one is a big yes if you’re looking for a twist on classic plaid.

PANTS

Jennifer Nicole: Give me understated every time – I’d take the first pair over the second in a heartbeat.
Elle: I have to agree with Jennifer – those Genetic Denim jeans (and because we know you’ll ask [only because we did], the booties of utter sexiness are the 7 For All Mankind Parker Quilted Moto Booties) are pretty much the best pair of “unique” denim I’ve seen all year. I’m over the torn up, deconstructed, way-too-baggy jeans of Trendyland, I want subtle plaid and a sexy skinny cut. I can’t deny the pants on the right, though… There’s something extra saucy about a woman in bold, plaid, fitted pants.

DRESSES

Elle: Both perfect work-to-cocktails dresses. The pattern on that first dress is deceiving – check out the closeup on the site, and you’ll see that it’s almost a dirty, grungy, steampunky take on plaid… in a really classy cut. I love the contrast of pattern and cut because they’re so strikingly different, you could use it in an entirely grunged-out ensemble, or take the classy route and play up the cut. This dress basically asks you to have fun with it. I’ve been in love with the dress on the right for months. I love that you can see that there’s a pattern, but you don’t know instantly that it’s plaid – it forces you to pay attention to it!
Jennifer Nicole: Again, if you haven’t seen a close-up of that first dress, you must.  Along with the first, the second is a great option for busty ladies, with its higher neckline and thicker straps.  I’m honestly surprised at how great these plaid options are.

ACCESSORIES

Jennifer Nicole: Everyone knows that I’m a big fan of wearing trends in moderation, since they’ll “be out” long before you wear them out.  These scarves look incredibly soft (and are classically styled) and that blazer has just a hint of the trend without being overwhelming.
Elle: We chose these pieces because everyone likes to try trends (or at least we encourage it!), but say you were raised in the 90s in Seattle (ahem) and the sight of plaid gives you Pearl Jam at Rock Candy Mountain flashbacks…. You might just want a little piece of plaid to enjoy the nostalgia, but not go overboard.

NO-NOs (How NOT to Wear Plaid)

Elle: What. The hell. Is going on here? Why on earth would you combine a Norwegian-esque folkloric pattern with chunky plaid on top? Moreover, why the hell would you only put pleating at the bust in the most awkward, make-your-boobs-look-bandaged spot? Don’t even get me started on the shearling hood. As for the other jacket? Three words: shapeless, bland, and ugly. I’m very passionate about plaids (now).
Jennifer Nicole: Honestly, I don’t even have words for these.  Just listen to Elle.

What do you think of the plaid trend? Have you found a great option, are you still looking, or have you decided to avoid the style completely?

Let’s travel back in time, to approximately two years ago, and eavesdrop on an argument a conversation between Jennifer and Elle…

Elle: Well, I like them.
Jennifer: I just…I can’t get down with them, Elle.  They’re…they’re…
Elle: Don’t say it.
Jennifer: They’re tapered pants.
Elle: They’re totally different. They’re not cut the same as those atrocities from the eighties.
Jennifer: They’re totally the same. Next thing you know, we’ll be wearing leggings with footie straps.
Elle: So what? You just hate every new trend that comes up.
Jennifer: …nu uh.  Just these ones.
Elle: Sure, Jen.  *eye roll*

(L to R): Alloy See Thru Soul Jeans, Apple Pocket Skinny Leg Jean, Rich & Skinny Super Skinny Jean

If you haven’t guessed it by now, we were debating the merits of skinny jeans. This trend has truly stood the test of time in the mile-a-minute fashion world, and in the process has gathered new styling, new scrutiny and new followers from around the globe.  After watching these jeans’ hemlines and waistlines rise and fall over the past couple of years, Elle and Jen are ready to give their big, fat opinions on the teeny, tiny, skinny jean.

Elle’s Thoughts: I’ve become somewhat bipolar on the whole idea of “skinny jeans”. Years ago, when Jen and I initially held that conversation (I remember exactly where I was, and what shoes I was wearing – is that weird?), I was holding strong with my argument that skinny jeans were not the tapered pants everyone had resurrected from the 80′s…

…Then I tried some. I deluded myself into thinking that they were the best things I ever put on my body. Hell, I even bought two pairs – grey and… mauve. Don’t ask, it was 2005, aka a long time ago. I hid my frustrations with the jeans because I wanted them to work so badly. The truth was that the jeans were cut improperly, the denim was too thick for such a close cut, they were too low-rise… The jeans I tried were from Old Navy, and they totally sucked. I will never step into another pair of low-rise skinny jeans again because – Hi! – I’m a curvy girl – low rise doesn’t work well for my body unless I’m entering a plumber-crack contest, wherein they are amazing.

After that mess, I decided that my body was not made for skinny jeans. Mind you, this was a time where I still absolutely loathed my body. I hated it! It didn’t look how I felt it should look, and “stupid jeans from Old Navy didn’t even fit right!”, I thought. Well, no more skinnies. Besides, they probably make you look like a sausage, or turn your body into a weird, tapered, apple shape…

…But then I got the bug again, a couple years later. I gave a different brand another go – success. I had gone out looking for everything I wished I had in the Old Navy pair: thinner fabric, higher rise, longer inseam, etc. They were amazing, and I was re-hooked. I realized that, if you believe you look like crap in something, you will.

Fortunately, these days skinny jeans come in every shape, size, rise, inseam and wash you could possibly imagine… It is so important to seek out jeans based on your specific attributes – otherwise you’ll end up hating a potentially wonderful piece of clothing, like I did.

Jennifer Nicole’s Thoughts: So, as you can see from the above conversation, I was against skinnies from the get-go.  Even when I needed a pair to tuck into calf-high boots, I bought cigarette jeans instead (a straighter leg from the knee down) and dealt with the frustration – and pain – of stuffing them into my Skechers.

Even so, I refused to spend more than twenty bucks on them, thinking that the “skinny jean” trend and anything resembling it would be gone within a season or two.

But, um, I was wrong.

I was also wrong about what the trend would become: it began to resemble less and less the eighties pleats and saggy waists (barring harem pants, which I will not even acknowledge as reality) and morphed into its own entity.  I started seeing more clean lines, body-skimming silhouettes and flattering cuts that would actually work on more than one body type…and it got tempting to try them myself.

Even so, I stuck with my trusty straight-leg jeans, buying a pair of Converse by John Varvatos as recently as June.  Last week, though, I took the plunge…and bought some real and actual and tight and…skinny…Skinnies.  (They’re quite similar to the ones above, on the left, and also from Alloy.com.)  They’re in transit – I expect them to be in my hot little hands by August – and I’m strangely excited.

So I may be a little – okay, very – late, but I’m here, and I’m willing to try the infamous “skinny jeans.”  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Are we all ready for some mixed feelings? Rompers – half childhood past time (emphasis on past…) and half potentially sexy, gamine summer piece. How are we supposed to feel about this? Nostalgic? Excited? Childlike? I think most of us are just confused, and are erring on the side of “ew”.

At least that’s how we approached the idea. It wasn’t until after we looked into how high end designers were interpreting the trend…

While most of the rompers we see in places like Forever 21, UO, and other “fast fashion” joints offer a sweet’n'cheap version of the style, true designers (yes, we said it – true designers) are giving us a delicious, luxurious spin on the youthful garment that we are absolutely crazy for.

Nanette Lepore, known for her girly-yet-sophisticated style, keeps her stunning gunmetal satin version playful, but it’s also easily turned into a classy, almost black tie garment.

Anna Sui kept her piece more casual, but perfect for summer with loose fabric and a laid-back silhouette.

And then we have Catherine Malandrino… The romper that set us into a frenzy. The beautiful seafoam green color mixed with the sheen of the fabric makes for an amazing style. Can you imagine pulling up to a summer cocktail party in this little number? We can. And we want it, like, yesterday.

And then we have celebrities… The makers and often ruiners (not breakers, they straight ruin) of trends. Fortunately, celebrities are doing the romper right. Jumpsuits, on the other hand, are apparently sending celebs into a confused fashion frenzy.

May Andersen (Danish model) nicely balances the casual aspect and the more formal aspect of this pinstripe number. We (I?) love the perfect amount of volume in the shorts and the sweet, sweet neckline.

Sarah Michelle Gellar tortures us with this romper. While we lament our personal struggles with strapless… anything, Buffy has a great figure for this style. The taught bodice plays well with the loose, relaxed short style.

Nicole Richie rocks the most perfect, casual romper ever. Button up for a prim look, or undo a few with a white, ribbed camisole underneath. Add a belt, cuff the sleeves, take off a belt, add a long sleeved henley underneath… Maybe the most versatile onesie ever.

Jennifer Nicole’s Thoughts: …but still, rompers? A few days ago, I would have labeled them as another trend I was vehemently against.  After spending some time looking into them, though, I see less Disco Seventies Style and a lot more Updated Twenties Nightgown…and I kind of love the latter.

It’s hard for me to imagine my curvy little body dressed in a romper, though.  Will the drop waist make me look straight up and down?  Will the shorts show off my legs or just make me look skanky?  And how long will the trend last before I’m forced to take my onesie down to the thrift store for someone else to peruse and sneer at?

Even with all these questions, I’ve kind of fallen in love with the idea of owner a romper: I can see myself doing a little spring cleaning in it (so comfy), wearing it shopping on a hot day (with big sunglasses and platform pumps) and, if it’s anything like this super soft modal-and-supima-cotton-blend Splendid romper, showing off my bare legs during a night out with friends.

So, I’m admitting it: my mind has changed, and I kind of want a romper.  Don’t judge me.

Elle’s Thoughts: I was in the same boat as Jen a couple days ago. Rompers always catch my eye when I’m out and about downtown because a) Chicago girls are prepared for the extreme summers and rompers fit the “OMG I’M HOT.” bill so they’re all over the place and b) seeing a “onesie” walk down the street on a full grown woman is… a bit startling.

Could I see 5’6″ of boobs and thighs in a garment that connects pants to shirt? I’m skeptical… But! I’ve also discovered a couple of rompers whose size charts seem like they’d work pretty well on my voluptuous figure.

I disagree strongly with loudly printed rompers, however. I feel that if you’re going to get such a crazy-shaped piece of clothing, it needs to remain versatile and understated, so you’re not a gigantic Playskool advertisement as you walk down the street. Simple black or neutrals with a sheen are perfect, in my eyes, as is this Jolt Drawstring Racerback Twill Jumper. Not only is it ultra affordable, but it has every versatile, aesthetic aspect I’m looking for.

While I’m about 700 times more comfortable with my soccer legs than I ever used to be, I don’t know if a 4″ inseam is something I’m terribly alright with. However, there is something to be said for a season-bending, summery-and-wintery romper with black tights and platform sandals… Just too easy-sexy to resist.

The last ten years have been a trend-watching blur: we’ve seen almost every decade resurface for at least a brief moment before slowly fading away.  The current, high-controversy era in our midst is the late 1980s.  Only being in our mid-twenties, the eighties are an era we Demoiselles spent little time in, and truth be told, we cared little for the trends that were going on then…and like them even less now.

Beneath the headline of “80s Revival” are many different, singular trends that women can choose from, whether it’s acid washed jeans (or “marble washed”, a description potentially created to distract you from the shivers that go up your spine the moment “acid washed” hits your ear drums), neon color, or for this specific post, sequins.

Courtesy of InStyle.com

Prior to 2009, sequins were most commonly associated with country club lunching grandmothers, drag queens, and children.  Now they’re making a comeback in a slightly less “gem sweater” way, but with just as much flash and glam as they had twenty years ago.  But how much is too much? There’s “interpreting a trend” and “wearing a trend”…but with such powerful statement pieces as sequins, it’s easy to let the trend wear you, if you’re not careful.

Would you wear sequins today?

Ugh, God… Sequins. My current appliqué frenemy. I want so badly to dislike sequins for their tacky, garish, intrusive sparkling, but I don’t know if I can. If you’d asked me six months ago how I felt about sequins, I’m sure (after a scoff and a bit of laughter) I’d have said “to hell with sequins!” and really meant it.

Today, I’m not so sure.

When I announced on Twitter my recent attraction to a sequined jacket, I was bombarded with replies accusing me of falling prey to fashion blogger influence. “They’re on every fashion blog, that’s what you want one!”, in so many words… Could it be true?

True or not: I think I want a sequin jacket, guys. I’m not sure what to do with this information as I’m vehemently against this “so tacky, it’s cute and fashionable!” movement, but sequins – shouldn’t they fall into that category?

As for as the matter of flattering, sequins will definitely bring extra attention. But what kind? Will they bring in admirable, classy, strong people? Or will the hipsters and trend-followers of the world give me a terrifying “nod of approval”? Could I be taken seriously? More importantly, could I take myself seriously if I were conducting a conversation with me, while wearing a sequined ______?

Have I speculated enough? Of course not! Is a sequined flourish on a skirt hem appropriate? I think that I would likely buy a dress that had only 1/8th of its surface area sequined. (Hell yes, I’m getting mathematical with this!) Once the sequin-to-nonsequined ratio exceeded 1:3, I think I’d have to put the garment back. That’s just too much pizazz for me.

Then there’s the color to consider… Black sequins are kind of like no sequins at all – barely noticeable with a shine – I can get down with that. Once we start getting into pastel and silver and gold territories that things start to get ugly (literally). A black, fully sequined jacket would hit my closet a lot faster than a silver sequined dress with a 1:3 sequin-to-nonsequined ratio.

The word sequin makes literally no sense to me now. It’s been completely overused.

Bottom line: There isn’t one. The Elle Jury is still out on this trend, as I’m not sure if it’s some kind of voodoo-fashion-blogger influence that has me eying sequin pumps with a twinkle of lust in my eye, or if there’s actual appeal in those flimsy, shiny discs.

A little-known fact: I used to be a dancer.  For seven years I took ballet, jazz, modern, and lyrical classes, even competing in my mid-teens.  I loved the strength of dance, the grace (and pain) of going on pointe, and yes, I even loved the costumes we wore to competitions and performances.  When it comes to dancer-related trends, though, I just can’t take those clothes out of class and wear them on the street.

It started with ballet flats which, due to comfort, I accepted.  Then it grew – spawned – into other functional (but not always attractive) streetwear.  Leggings!  Bra tops!  Arm and leg warmers!  And now, finally, sequins.  Come on, ladies: I’m not five again, and this is not a dance recital.

I must admit, though, that some of my trepidation about sequins has to do with my current lifestyle: I’ve got a very, very big dog to take care of, and a very, very long bus ride downtown every day, and my clothes and shoes often take a beating because of those things.  Patent leather gets scuffed, delicate satin gets torn, and silk?  Please. I don’t even try to do silk.  For that reason, sequins make me nervous, and even though there are a couple of pairs of Oh…Deer! pumps and a TopShop jacket that can rock the trend tastefully, I still don’t think I could drop the money on something so delicate.

So, even though I generally think that sequins are a bit much (and likely a very short-lived trend) I can admit that if I didn’t come in physical contact with lots of people, places and surfaces every day – dog drool, anyone? – I might try them.

Just don’t tell any of the girls I used to dance with.

If you need some “sparkling inspiration” to help you contemplate sequins, please see this highly educational video by Leslie Hall:

Would you wear 2009′s version of the sequin trend?

Why or why not?

J. Brand skinnies at RevolveClothing.com

How brave are you?  Now that white denim is back in fashion, that question has arisen in the mind of many a fashion-loving woman:

• What can I wear it with?
• Will it make me look fat?
• What if I spill something?
• What style is best for my body?

This trend has been on the Demoiselles’ radar for some time, but we haven’t given it an honest chance until now.  After some discussion and debate over celebrity photos and product pages, here’s what we’ve decided:

Here’s my opinion, short and sweet: no thanks.  From its inception, I’ve been vehemently against white jeans…but to be honest, I hadn’t really thought about why.  I just kept seeing an image of myself as a kid, in white jeans and a floral print top, and thinking about how uncomfortable I felt.

When I really started to consider why I don’t like white jeans today, though, I realized that there’s a totally valid (non-childhood-regression) reason for my disgust.  White jeans hide a woman’s shape. Take a typical blue denim – with all of its natural wear, its creases, its shades and visible stitching – and remove any sense of contrast.  What you’ll come up with is a pant that has little character, one that falls aesthetically flat.  It lacks any visual interest, or a chance to play up a curvaceous waist or well-toned legs using the shape and texture of the pant.

In my opinion, that’s exactly what you get with white jeans: denim material without the denim personality.   Every photo of white jeans I’ve seen has made the wearer – often a celebrity with sculpted calves and a tiny waist – look shapeless and almost frumpy.  With less-than-toned thighs and wider hips, why would I choose to wear them?

When I was in 5th grade, I used to love to run through my older, high school-age sister’s closet and play massive dress-up.  She had these great, vintage bell-bottom jeans that were so soft and had this dangerous, alluring ivory color. I remember putting them on, and realizing that they were skin-tight, sausage casings that you could barely put your hands into the pockets of, but yet… I still wore them to school. Mind you, at this time, JNCOs and khaki cargo pants were all the rage, so a chubby girl in white, painted on bell bottoms was… an interesting sight.

White jeans have a danger about them. They’re the forbidden fruit of fashion, so to speak. I say this because the idea of wearing white jeans terrifies me, but I also intepret it, naturally, as a dare; a challenge. Can I wear white jeans and defy the “Shamu” connotations? It’s a matter of chance and confidence. Fortunately, I know not to take a dare without some additional, specific criteria.

In short, I believe that no white denim should be hemmed above the ankle. Cropped (particularly skinny) white jeans will completely chop your legline and make your legs look like fat little sausages that end directly above your shoes, and most of the time, heels especially will narrow your ankles and the contrast between sausage legs and narrow ankles… Not so fresh. Nor so clean, clean.

So that wasn’t really “in short,” but this is: I can appreciate skinny white denim, but not for myself. I think if I were forced to take the plunge into the mysterious depths of white denim, it would have to be in the form of wide leg, extra long cigarette, or extra long bootcut in order to obtain a silhouette that was not only aesthetically pleasing, but comfortable and flattering, as well.

Do you wear white denim, and if not, would you consider it?

To clarify, I’m short. I’m the kind of girl that needs every pair of jeans altered, whether it’s so she doesn’t trip over herself or because she wants to finally be able to wear flats without ruining the hem of her pants.  I’m the kind of girl that wears “ankle length” jeans with heels; the one that hates buying pants and shrugs off the idea of a “knee-length dress” because no dress is every actually knee-length on her.  People think it’s “so cute,” but I’m often irritated by it.

Because of this problem – being five feet tall, that is – finding cropped jeans is hard for me.  Inseams are always too long, and though the alterations department sounds like a good idea, I’ve had many disastrous and time-consuming issues come out of that “solution” to my height “problem.”  Cuffing them is out, too, when you consider that rolling a jean five times over takes away that sleek line and just adds a bunch of bulk at the ankle.  Why can’t designers make a jean – just one – that’s just a little shorter?*

It turns out that someone did.

Hudson Jeans has added a cropped skinny jean to their line, and in the process they chopped five inches off of the inseam.  This means that us short girls can roll up the ends without getting all of that unseemly bulk, and then wear ‘em uncuffed when we want to change it up.  Impressive, right?

At a mere 27 1/2″ inseam, these jeans might actually work for me.  Check them out in July’s Nylon magazine (which, in my opinion, has a better photo of them) and read their take on styling:

“They can channel both Audrey Hepburn (paired with flats) or Sandra Dee (worn with heels).  [...]  There’s no question that the combination of expert fit with premium denim from Europe and Japan will find favor among Hudson Jeans devotees, which include everyone from the Misshapes to Camilla Belle.”

Personally, I’d dress them up with something silky on top and a pair of patent peep-toe pumps, or wear them to a barbecue with a rolled-sleeve tee and wedges.  Then again, I’m a jeans freak, so I’d probably just wear them everywhere.

You can find these cropped goodies at most department stores, but if you’re lazy, the picture above is from their listing at Nordstrom.com.  (Here’s the listing for the white ones.)  After searching Hudson Jeans’ other items, I’ve found that I like their Gabby cuffed jeans even better…and the inseam on those is only 26″!

*Tall girls!  I know your prblems are even worse – you can remove excess fabric much more easily than add it – so tell me: which jeans run tall sizes that work perfectly on you?  While we’re at it: shorties, give me a shout-out to the best short girl brands out there!*

On a friend’s recommendation, last week I grabbed a copy of the March issue of Nylon. I found a ton of inspiring designs and gorgeous photo spreads, of course, but I also found some information that I could have lived without:

Sweatpants are “in.”

This isn’t the photo in Nylon, but it does feature the same designer, Alexander Wang, who introduced his updated gym-wear in his Spring/Summer ’09 collection.  Wang won the $200,000 CDFA Vogue Fashion Fund award last year, which makes it pretty likely that this new trend is going to catch on.  He seems to be banking on just that, as he also featured the trend in his Fall/Winter ’09 collection:

Really, Mr. Wang, is this necessary? I mean, I understand the idea of wearing something architectural as opposed to form-fitting – even this curvy chick has billowy tops that are more interesting than flattering – but I can’t see anything architectural about these – just saggy crotches and elastic waistbands.  It’s like you watched too many reruns of Rosanne, rotting your brain in the process.

But, sadly, you’re not the only one:

These sweats are attributed to Norma Kamali, and even though she’s been designing ingenious, creative pieces since the sixties, she missed the mark with these (as well as her decision to do a Wal-Mart collection – ew).  Where’s the visual interest?  The creative lines?  Or anything not resembling a hobo?

I don’t want to try this trend, but because I’m a Demoiselle, I will if you make me.  What do you think of this new, um, style?  Are you excited to dig through your dad’s old gym clothes, or will you avoid a saggy-looking butt and scrunched up hem at all cost?