nogoodforme superlatives: Weirdest Wardrobe Staples

Sworn Virgins bamboo leggings

I really have to eat my words when it comes to leggings: when they got popular again, I swore up and down I would never be down with them. But then, of course, I discovered that they are ten million times better than tights for the winter, and then I was hooked. But it's been an odyssey to find just the right ones, and I spent much of my 2007 trying to find a pair that fit well and didn't piss me off in some way or another. Like many people, I first went with American Apparel, who probably helped to spearhead the leggings revival with their annoying and ubiquitous advertising -- you know, all those ads with the chicks splayed out so suggestively you kind of forget they were advertising clothes, not phone sex. But like so much else of American Apparel, those leggings wore out fast, getting all holey and stretched out and basically untenable, no matter how many times I darned the damned things. Annoyed and refusing to give any more money to them, I went the old-school route and finally got Danskin leggings, which was like being in ballet class all over again. They were way more durable than American Apparel (since you know, actual dancers have to wear them, and not just phone sex models.) The only issue I had with them was that they were just a tad too short. (I like a longer leg.) This sent me on an odyssey to basically every mall chain that was selling leggings, ever -- only, you know, I'd find myself handling really cheap-o cloth and realizing I was this close to the dark side. But then, finally, like a light at the end of the tunnel, I discovered my perfect legging: super-soft, eco-friendly, and gloriously long, these Sworn Virgins leggings are so my favorite these days. Known for eco-friendly basics, I should've known the California-based company would come through in my Great Leggings Crisis of Late 2007. We've been good so far, these leggings and I -- no weird stretchiness at the knees, a nice retaining of fit, incredible softness and they haven't worn out yet. It's so funny -- I hated the idea of leggings so intensely at first, and now I just love these. Life is so strange. (Kat)

Zany J.Crew Cardies

In my opinion, if something is a) a cardigan, and/or b) manufactured by J.Crew, it counts as a neutral. These sweaters are my neutral. J.Crew makes the exact same cardigan over and over again in different colors and textiles every season; my wont is to purchase as many variations of said cardigan as possible, and to always opt for the wackiest available print. I have learned from leafing through enough waiting room copies of Glamour or whatever that a woman is supposed to choose basic, neutral pieces to spike her wardrobe with class and timelessness- I tend to do the exact opposite. It makes a lot more sense in the context of how I want to present myself to begin an outfit with something outlandish, then deduce how I can dress it down, sparing myself a potentially fatal overdose of loony-bin chic. I have no earthly desire to resemble Grace Kelly or Nan Kempner in any way; I strive for classicism in my personal style about as much as I strive for classicism in anything else I do, that is to say: not at all. If capturing some essence of "personal style" is your goal, banality is the ultimate mark of failure. No matter what the situation is, I don't want to be boring. Conversely, I'm also an incredibly lazy person, and five out of seven days, I lack the drive to construct any sort of "look" stretching beyond jeans and a t-shirt. And such is the crux of my dependence on the J.Crew cardigan: nothing can un-boring up darkwash skinny jeans and a navy Mets t-shirt like a generous dose of lemon yellow zebra print. Let's just pray that next season they come out with a Revolver-print variant: although I do get more compliments on my Soiree cardi (far right) than anything else I've ever owned, let's face it: I ain't no Uptown Girl. (Laura)

Wicked-old concert t-shirts my parents bought me when I was a little kid

At the risk of totally doing this entry wrong, I'm gonna be real loose with my interpretation of the word "weird" here and let it stand as a synonym for "different" and "unique" and "extra extra special." The thing is, I'm not creative enough, fashion-wise, to make fantastic wardrobe staples out of the most unlikely garments/accessories/what-have-you's (and I'm not trying to be self-effacing here - just speaking my truth). So the stuff in my closet that's most apt to make you go, "Whoa, really?" would be my small-ish but impressve collection of concert tees, all bought for me by my parents at various points throughout the 1980s. The oldest is a David Bowie one my mom got when she went to see him on the Serious Moonlight tour in '83. Then there's a Madonna shirt from the Who's That Girl tour, which I love even more than the tee I bought myself when I went to see her on Blonde Ambition. And lastly but not leastly, a U2 t-shirt circa The Joshua Tree, faded-black with lovely gold lettering. (A funny story about this one is that, sometime in college when I was home for the summer, I went to a party and ran into a boy from grade school - the first thing he said was, "Hey, you're that girl that used to wear a U2 shirt in fourth grade!" See, age-inappropriate music nerdiness = eventual legendary status.) And yes, they all still fit, because apparently when I was wee I liked to wear my t-shirts big enough to fall somewhere around my knees. The Bowie shirt's my favorite, though it makes me super-nostalgic for another first-grade prized possession: my beautiful metal Empire Strikes Back lunchbox. God, what a tomboy freak I was. (Liz)

Posted by Kat, Liz and Laura in Superlatives
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