academichic

Sources:

• Tank: Banana Republic
• Skirt: BR Outlet
• Belt: J. Crew
• Shoes: Gap Outlet

Endnotes:
I’m a little late in finishing up my Dress Your Best picks, and today I’m giving three cheers to my waist, my nose, and my shoulders. It probably comes as no surprise that I’d pick my waist as a “best” because of my obsession with belts and belting. However, I didn’t even know I had a waist until last year. I have always had a butt thanks to sports, but my waist didn’t whittle down until I was well into my 20s during a time when several factors caused my body shape and weight to completely change. I found that defining my waist took advantage of my new shape, and now of course I find it very hard NOT to belt things! As for my nose, it’s a perfect combination of my mom’s and my dad’s. Depending on which parent I’m with, people will often remark, “oh, this MUST be your daughter!” It’s pretty hard to “dress” for your nose, but since it is right in the middle of my face, I’d say I dress for it everyday.

Finally my arms. They’ve always been strong and toned thanks to hours lifting weight for lacrosse and now thanks to hour spent running and cross-training. In fact, I’m the “friend” that A. was talking about last year in her post about her arms. I love showing them off when I can in the summer with tanks or halter tops.

I realized during the Dress Your Best challenge that I was already dressing to show off my best parts, and for some reason it makes me sound conceited to say that there are many more than five parts of myself that I love. I feel like I’m bragging by identifying myself as A.’s “super-armed” friend, but isn’t that what DYB is all about? I know that many blogs talk about the vicious circle of body-bashing that women can get in to, but why is it so hard to admit that I love my body? I always valued whatever it looked like because I knew it was allowing me to do things like play sports or climb mountains – Do I ever wish I had a bigger chest? Yes. Am I thankful that my chest is small and is easily contained in a sports bra? Yes. Do I sometimes wish my thighs were smaller? Certainly. Do I love seeing my quad muscles flex when I’m running or climbing or just walking up stairs? You betcha! I guess what I’ve learned from this exercise is that whether you struggle to find the parts you love or love all the parts you have, no one loves everything all the time BUT it’s not bragging to admit what you do love… that’s perfectly O.K too.

Thanks to everyone who participated in our Dress Your Best challenge for the last two weeks! We hope that you found it refreshing to take time to praise your body. It was truly inspiring to hear some of the stories and reasons behind your choices.

Now that everyone participating has shared at least a few “Bests”, we’d love to know which Dress Your Best post (either your own or someone else’s) was most inspiring or meaningful for you and why. Was it because you had also picked that body part? Was it because you had struggled with that aspect of yourself and someone made you think differently? Was it because it was a post that made you smile? Even if your most inspiring Dress Your Best was in real life rather than in the blogosphere, we’d love to hear the story. Whatever your reasoning is, please let us know in the comments section which “Best” was the best inspiration in your eyes.

While our official Dress Your Best might be over, we will definitely still strive to think about the things we love more often than the things we don’t!

Sources:

• Tank – Banana Republic
• Skirt – Gap
• Necklace – Limited
• Shoes – Banana Republic
• Bangles – Gifts from S.
• Earrings – Island Souvenir

Endnotes:

I’m making this my last official DYB post, though I do plan to continue to think about my body in these terms and to periodically reflect on what I love about my own body.  So, since I only managed three posts before this, I needed to highlight two more of my five body parts and ended up picking three: my height, my muscular chest and shoulders, my eyes.

First, this outfit is all about the height.  I’m tall.  I’m 5’9 when standing in my bare (very flat) feet.  I’ve been this tall since 7th grade.  Over the past 15 + years  I’ve mostly loved my height.  I get it from my dad, it means I have long legs, I can reach most things others can’t.  I have many positive  height-related memories.  I was the second tallest student when I graduated 8th grade (second to another girl) which meant I got to bring up the back of the processional line.  As a lanky 13 year old, I thought that was pretty cool.

As an adult, I continue to be proud of my height and never shy away from fairly high heels (my love of flats is about comfort, not my own height).  When I saw this super high (4″) wedges on sale I had to have them.  I love them! But, the first time I wore them out about a month ago, I suddenly felt super self-conscious.  I was taller then everyone I was with (men and women) by quite a bit and several people noted it.  And, I got teased!  And, it stung!  I’m not sure why I bothered me, but it did.  I found myself slouching or leaning against walls and bars to appear shorter.  It kind of ruined my night.  Thinking about it a few days later, I felt silly for letting it bother me and vowed to wear my heels with pride!

I’m also celebrating my muscular chest and shoulders.  I love the way this tank top highlights both my shoulders and my the upper part of my chest.  I’ve talked about liking my very pronounced collar bone before, but the other day a friend pointed out that I have well defined, tight pectoral muscles. Hmm, who knew?  Well, now I can’t stop noticing them and I kind of love.  Random, I know.

Finally, I’m celebrating my eyes.  Since cutting my hair, I’ve been getting more and more compliments on my eyes.  I love the color of my eyes, which changes from slate, to sky blue, to turquoise depending on what I’m wearing, and I love my long thick lashes.

So, there you have it my list of 5 + a bonus: body shape, hair, hands, height, shoulders/pecs, and eyes.

I hope that all of you who have participated in DYB 2011 have found the experience as rewarding as I have.  Remember, it’s not too late to participate.  Right now, sit back and close your eyes and list 5 things about your body that you love.  Your list can be body parts, facial features, aspects of your build, skin or hair coloring.  Your list could recall conventional beauty, personal stories, or be totally random.  Just, please take the time to make the list for you!

A.

Sources:

• Tank: Target
• Necklace: gift from husband
• Bracelets: bangles from Banana Republic Factory, cork bracelet from Honolulu swap meet
• Skirt: thrifted
• Belt: thrifted
• Wedges: Reaction by Kenneth Cole, via DSW

End Notes:

Can you Dress Your Best and give a round of applause to your familial heritage? Because that’s how I’m ending my DYB this year.

I’ve always taken great pride in the fact that I am hapa, half Japanese and half Caucasian. Because I grew up in a predominantly Asian culture, I perhaps feel more bonded to my Japanese heritage, but I’ve also come to cherish my Scottish and English roots and my old, old New England settler connections. To have two such different and unique histories wrapped up in my own family continues to be a fascinating thing for me.

But even though I may strongly conceive of myself as hapa, as mixed race, not everyone perceives me that way. Most people in Hawaii, many of whom are mixed race themselves, recognize me as being hapa, though they might jokingly give me a hard time for my paler skin or tall stature that makes me stick out amidst the predominantly tan, short population. Since moving to the mainland, however, I’ve found that such recognition is, ironically, more mixed. Some people recognize me as being “not white” and ask, “What are you?” Some people take guesses. I’ve been told that I look like Michelle Wie and Lucy Liu. Once, someone asked if I was part Mexican. Many people just assume that I’m full white.

All of this — the categorization that happens based on physical appearance, the notion that visible recognizability is a necessary part of assuming a particular identity, the very conception of “race” in general — is incredibly fraught and something that I wrestle through in my own academic work. But I know that, for me, my body plays an important role in reminding me of my heritage and seeing my future in the fat cheeks and flat nose of my son who, for all other intents and purposes, looks more like his Caucasian father.

So today I’m celebrating being hapa. I’m celebrating the height I got from 6’4″ father along with the freckles and big ears that are all from his side of the family. And I’m celebrating my big cheeks, dark hair, and yellowy undertones in my skin that come from my mother’s side. So hooray for shoes that are purple and tan even though the skirt is salmon and the shirt is navy. Hooray for a hot pink belt rather than a brown one. Hooray for silver and cork bracelets, worn together. The mixing is what makes it interesting.

Sources:

• Top: Forever 21
• Shorts: maternity consignment store
• Tank: Old Navy (tall size)
• Necklace: Tilly Bloom
• Sandals: Jeffrey Campbell (I’m not tired of them yet…)
• Bikes: “Oliver,” a 2010 Raleigh One Way (for N.) and “Sammy,” a 1986 Schwinn Le Tour Mixte (for E.)

End Notes:

Over the weekend N. and I had the delightful gift of free babysitting (thanks, sister-in-law P.!) and the chance to go on a bike date picnic in a nearby park to watch the fireflies. (I’ll be sharing more about the date itself on S.’s bike blog in the near future.) It was a beautiful night and also a great reminder to me of why I should celebrate my legs during this year’s Dress Your Best.

My legs have always been “there” and I’ve rarely been that impressed with either their aesthetics or their extraordinary functionality. Unlike A., S., and L., I’m not a marathoner or a serious runner. I can’t say that my legs have carried me tremendous distances or that they’ve overcome great adversity. They’re kind of pale and kind of…normal.

But, since beginning biking last year, my legs have acquired greater value in my mind. It’s not because of their athletic prowess — because honestly I don’t really ride that far or that fast — but simply because they have allowed me to participate in an activity that my husband loves and that I, in turn, have come to really enjoy. My legs have taken me on many a bike date exploration of our city with N., with little e., and with visiting friends and relatives. It’s become our “thing” that we do…together. We bike to our respective jobs, to church, to the grocery store, to friends’ homes. And when I pulled out little e.’s trailer and hitched him up to my bike for a library run, all on my own accord, I think husband N. almost burst with pride.

So thanks, legs, for giving me the ability to spend a special kind of quality time with my family. You may not be hardcore or super long or super toned or super anything, but you’ve given me a great gift. And I’m celebrating you by wearing short shorts.

Sources:

• Tank – Ann Taylor Loft
• Skirt – chopped from a J Crew Dress
• Leather Belt – from L.
• Stripped Belt – from another dress
• Sandals – H & M
• Pride Beads – Maui Street Fair
• Earrings – Gift from S.

Endnotes:

I warned you that due to my little yoga mat exercise I would be highlighting some pretty random parts during this round of DYB. Today I’m showing my hands some love.  I’ve always liked my hands, but would have never thought of them as something to celebrate on a style blog.  See, my hands are anything but ladylike.  They are large, tough, wrinkled, scarred, freckled.  I’ve had my nails manicured fewer times then I can count on my long, but less than slender, fingers.  I keep my nails super short and I often have dirt, compost, or paint under them. But, that’s just the way I like them!

I’ve never much cared for long nails and nail polish just doesn’t last on these busy hands.   I have a big scar on my left hand that I have had since I was 9 or 10 and every summer more freckles seem to appear all over the tops of my hands.  I have very deep creases in my palms, which sweat when I’m anxious.  See, these are not the hands of a lady, but I love them just the same.

When I told A2 I was going to highlight my hands, she smiled and told me she loved my hands, especially my short well kept nails that always reveal what I’ve been up to that day.  She said I needed to photograph my hands holding a coffee cup, because when she thinks of my hands, she thinks of them wrapped around a coffee mug.

Do any of your body parts carry stories, reveal your secrets, or specially mark you as you? Are you giving them a gold star this week?

By the way, I’m counting this as blue and white striped outfit #7 even though it’s a bit of a stetch.  I do have a striped belt and a striped bag, but it’s not the outfit I had in mind. It’s just been too hot to pull out all my striped items.  Don’t worry they will make it out eventually.

Sources:

T-shirt: Forever 21
Necklace: gift from husband
Skirt: test run from Megan Nielsen of an upcoming pattern for DIY Maternity!
Wedges: Naturalizer, via DSW

End Notes:

Today I’m celebrating a body part towards which I was quite ambivalent for many years: my butt, my tush, my rear, my okole. When I was a bony freshman in college, I realized that my jeans didn’t really fit the way that my hallmates’ did. Maybe it’s because I didn’t wear pants often enough as a teenager in Hawaii, but once I was on the mainland I suddenly became very self-conscious about my lack of a butt. I used to joke that I didn’t really have a butt per se, just an expanse of upper thigh.

Now, Internet, I’m letting you know that I have a butt.

Somewhere through the past ten years of gaining weight, getting older, running a little, starting to bike, and doing endless squats to pick up little e…I got a butt. I haven’t thought a whole lot about if it’s “cute” or “shapely” or “mom-ish” or any of those things. But I do know that I love the way it looks in a pencil skirt with a good pair of wedges.

Gaining an okole — and being okay with it — as I’ve grown older has been a good reminder of how our bodies are not static. There is not some ideal form that we pass through from ages 18-24 to which we should continually aspire. Do I like every change my body has undergone in the last ten years? Not really. But I’m learning to be more graceful in accepting these shifts, acknowledging how my embodied experiences leave corporeal traces and how those traces can themselves change what I value and why.

P.S. In less than two years, I’ll probably really regret tying my shirt like this. But all the cool kids are doing it now and it gave me the silhouette I wanted for this outfit. I’m such a sucker for a good silhouette.

Sources:

Dress – Banana Republic Outlet (pre-pregnancy worn here)
Tank – Maternity, Target
Sandals – Target
Necklace – AE, years and years ago
Bag – Dots, bought in high school
Wooden bangle – thrifted

Endnotes:

In my last post, I embraced my pregnant belly as my ‘Best’ for Dress Your Best Week. But as I was trying to come up with my other ‘Bests’, I realized that I have to take a more wholistic approach this time around. Last year, when we picked our top five things to celebrate, I remember naming things like my legs, my hair, and my smallish chest. This time, those same aspects of myself have been distorted and changed by pregnancy.

My legs, which I loved for being shapely as well as toned and powerful from many miles of running, are still strong but no longer resemble the legs they used to be. I’ve gotten cellulite where there was none, they’ve been retaining water and looking and feeling puffy, and they no longer even accept the thought of being squeezed into heels. It’s all flats, all comfort these days.

My hair, which I always loved for being full and curly, is still full and curly but is now betraying me in that it’s gotten increasingly grey and I’m powerless to hide that. I started getting grey hair a few years ago and have consistently colored it as a way to hide that. Since being pregnant, I decided to skip the chemicals in hair dye and wait the nine months before getting another dye job. As those pesky wirey white hairs spring up all around my temples and forehead, I feel like I’m increasingly made to look older and more weathered than I am.

And, alas, that smallish chest that allowed me to easily fit into any top and not think twice about going on a run. Yeah…those changed about two months into the pregnancy and will likely continue to change (read: grow) as time goes on. Sigh.

I’ll spare you the laundry list of everything else that’s changed and will cut to the chase; perhaps this is what happens when you get older. Perhaps this is what happens to all women, regardless of whether you’re going through pregnancy or your body is just changing with the passing of time. Hopefully, as this happens, you realize that it’s not about pin-pointing that ‘perfect’ feature of your body but rather about embracing the whole and what it does for you. So I’m taking a much more wholistic approach here and celebrating my body in its entirety.

This same body that gives me a million and one reasons to feel frustrated also gives me just as many reasons to be happy and grateful. It’s been carrying my baby to almost full term now (and having had several friends for whom this has been a problem, I know not to take that for granted). It’s still propelling me forward on my bike, on walks, at yoga class, and in the pool. It’s healthy and resiliant and this, too, I know to value. And while it’s changing in many ways, in just as many ways, it’s still me. It’s still the same body that ran a marathon, that used to have a waistline, and that once long ago thought grey hairs and cellulite a thing of motherhood and adulthood. Well, here I am, on the threshhold of motherhood and certainly with both feet into adult life, so I might as well embrace all aspects of this stage. As my yoga instructor has us say at the end of each class, I bow down to the divine within me and I celebrate this body for all that it is.

Sources:

• Shirt: Splendid via Filene’s Basement
• Tank (under): Gap via thrift
• Skinnies: Anne Taylor Loft
• Shoes: Steve Madden via DSW

Endnotes:
It might not be immediately obvious from this photo what exactly it is I’m dressing. Like most people, I have a love-hate relationship with my hair. Instead of thinking about its tendency to poof out and curl in particularly annoying ways, I’m going to focus on the one thing that really makes it stand out: the color. I’ve been called everything from “copper top” to “fire bush” (by mean kids in high school) and my color has been described as anything from amber, auburn, red, or strawberry blonde all the way to chestnut and brown when it hasn’t gotten sun for a while. I like to showcase it off of turquoises, blues, and greens, which is why my striped turquoise shirt was perfect for this post.

My hair sticks out in my family too. I’m the only one with it in my immediate family, which was pretty confusing for my mom and dad when I was born, and to be totally honest, they still don’t really know where it came from. I’ve been teased for my hair and praised for my hair. I’ve never dyed it because I’ve always been afraid that it will grow back another color (crazy, I know). I avoided orange and red clothes for a long time because I was told they “clashed” with my hair. It wasn’t until I read Still Life With Woodpecker by Tom Robbins that I fully embraced my color as special. I actually get pretty defensive when people try to tell me I don’t have red hair. I’m positive I’m a redhead ;)

Robbins, also a redhead, has a character in this book who claims that “red hair is caused by sugar and lust.” He goes on to describe the flaming locks of the protagonist:

“…red being the color of emergency and roses; red being the prelate’s top and the baboon’s bottom; red being the blood’s color, jelly’s color; red maddening the bull, red bringing the bull down; red being the color of valentines, of left-handedness, and of a small princess’s new found guilty hobby. His hair was red, his cowboy boots muddy, his heart a hive of musical bees.”

Today I’m reveling in my color – whatever you call it, it’s mine.

Sources:

• Striped Tee – American Eagle
• Black Ponte Pants – Ann Taylor
• Studded Flats – Banana Republic
• Necklace – gift from sister L.
• Earrings – gift from S.
• Bangles – gifts

Endnotes:

For my first DYB contribution I celebrate my figure, my body shape.  I proudly dressed my wide hips, broad shoulders, and tiny waist.   However, after writing that post, I started to think about my laments about the J Crew models and the straight-line silhouette I couldn’t pull off.  And I remembered, this project is about celebrating the body you have. So, here you go, I might not look like Audry Hepburn, but I’ll be damned if that’s going to stop me from borrowing her silhouette!

I love belts and any other clothing trick that shows everyone that my waist is smaller than my butt/hips region.  But, I also like all-over stripes and stripes just can’t always be belted.  I think sometimes I convince myself I am celebrating my waist when really I am desperately trying to mitigate and hide my hips/butt/thighs.  I certainly don’t think there is anything wrong with using clothes to accentuate your best and in the process down play your “problem spots” and I will likely be back to belting tomorrow.  But, for today I am going belt-free and dressing my best differently.

I also want to give a shout-out to my hair.  As I’ve written before, a good hair-day can make my day and a compliment on my hair will make you my new best friend.  I put a fair amount of effort into my hair and if I get a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror, I’ll check my hair (rather than makeup, shifted necklines, etc).  I’ve been loving my new haircut, but it is much less predictable than my straight bob.  I have very little control over what it does.  So, today I am cerebrating a good hair-day that I couldn’t recreate if I spent all morning trying.  (Don’t you think it looks a bid edgier than usual?)  A.