Everything is Black and Gold

Yegads, StyleNation! Has it really been more than a month since we met? How’ve you been?

Things here are getting back into their usual October groove following the submission of a grant application that ate up most of August, all of September, and the first two weeks of October. It sort of feels as though said application left a gaping hole in my life that I’ve only just begun to fill, again. To make matters worse, there was some new-friend-related drama at pretty much the EXACT time that my grant-related anxiety had reached a fever pitch. In short, F&*K, that was awful. Also, I would NEVER have made it through if my research partner were not an intuitive and supportive friend as well as a ridiculously accomplished and prolific scholar.

In more directly blog-related news, I present the following combinations of black and gold for your consideration. The first I wore to a wedding of the A-Dubs-Hubs’s colleague, the second to teach last week.

#1. Wedding Guest Wear

For the late-afternoon wedding, I began with the following. The gold flats happened because (a) I wanted to make a shoe purchase count twice, and these can be worn for teaching, and (b) I have plantar fasciitis that makes high heel wearing too painful to contemplate:

Gold chandelier earrings: Le Chateau (remixed); Dress: BCBG Maxazria (remixed, purchased with janey_em during January 2011’s epic visit); Gold cuffs: Cousin’s shop and I forget (remixed); Invisible black silk clutch: was my maternal grandmother’s (loved her style, miss her a LOT); Gold faux-snakeskin embellished leather flats: David Dixon (via Town Shoes)

The wedding reception featured a series of increasingly ridiculous moments that lead me to self-medicate with wine in order to survive without imploding in rage. (This may have resulted in some drunken texting of E-Jo and janey_em from a bathroom stall. Probably I should not bring a phone to such events.) Over the course of the evening, a certain amount of outfit deconstruction occurred. This was the result:

This version of the ensemble facilitated the dancing which kept me from having to talk to the relative strangers whose every statement seemed either to offend and enrage or really, really bore me. (You know, because I’m incredibly evolved and self-important.)

#2. A-Dubs, if You Get Out of Bed, You Can Wear the Owl Belt

As the subtitle for this ensemble indicates, this was a reward I used to entice myself from under the covers the day after we submitted the grant application. Only the thought of a giant owl belt made of pleather and brass-like metal got me away from my beloved, under-used water pillow that morning.

Top: Vero Moda (new); Brass and pleather Owl belt: thrifted last summer (new to blog); Long patterned skirt: thrifted ages ago (remixed); Black leather “combat” boots: Ben Sherman (for men, new to blog, purchased on sale last spring); Photo-bomber: The Fuzzy Roommate’s Puppy (wearing her fall/winter blue paisley collar – isn’t she huge now?!)

Here’s a close-up of the owl:

Does anyone remember a Hallowe’en song called “Black and Gold”?: “Everything is black and gold, black and gold tonight! Yellow pumpkin, yellow moon, yellow candle light.” I’m pretty sure I sang something like this in Grade Two music class.

Also, what up, StyleNation?

12 thoughts on “Everything is Black and Gold

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  3. I want to know what could happen at a wedding reception that would make a non-family, colleague’s-wife type guest implode in rage! Were you surrounded by the Canadian equivalent of Romney voters or something?

    • Ha! There was a little of that. Plus some serious preoccupation on the part of many, many men present, with the awesomeness of men and their jobs in the Hubs’s (new) male-dominated field of work.

      Finally, I’m so over 20-something women’s performative lesbianism-for-the-sake-of-the-guys. At one point, the maid of honour thoroughly felt up first the bride then another woman on the dance floor while her (the honoured maid’s) boyfriend took pictures with his phone. The boyfriend then stuck his phone down by her knees and took pictures up her dress.

  4. Oh my goodness, A-Dubs, if I could get my shit together enough to blog, I would have to text about my own drunken texting at my bff’s bachelorette party. In which I sent 3 close friends drunken texts in which I told them that because of the venue, I was going to have nightmares about Spivak. So I totally approve of drunken texting to really good friends. I, however, did not have the decency to go the women’s room. I texted from the table. While the bride said things like “your autocorrect changed the spelling of Gayatri.”

      • Solidarity, AftK! Also, your drunken texting sounds supremely intellectual. Well done. (Mine’s most often of the “I love you guys” or “get here immediately and help me mock the AC/DC covers” variety.)

        • My (non-bride) best friend came to my dissertation defense and at the post defense party, he read the texts outloud to the assemblage. The party goers were impressed with his ability to pronounce the names of the post colonialist theorists. The texts said things like, “This restaurant has bhodisatvas with boobs. And red lanterns. I am going to dream tonight of Spivak chasing me around this room with a knife. To a techno beat.”

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