Anyone that knows me knows that I love jumpsuits. Doesn’t matter what you call them: rompers, boiler suits, painter suits, playsuits, overalls–I am an equal-opportunity jumpsuit lover.
I picked up this beauty at my favorite consignment shop in town, The Closet Trading Co. and I cannot stop wearing it. It’s kind of perfect for Santa Barbara: casual chambray meets sophisticated silhouette equals day-to-night weekday-to-weekend perfection. All it needs is a good shoe and maybe an accent on the collarbone and I feel like I can conquer the world. Okay maybe just State Street.
The great thing about jumpsuits is that it does most of the work for you–all you need is a decent pair of shoes and a little light accessorizing and BAM. I’ve just solved all your lazy-girl fashion problems. You’re welcome.
This summer I’ve been wearing the crap out of my Harper clogs (also a Closet find!), so lately I’ve been switching them out with these Intentionally Blank loafers. I’ve always been a big fan of co-opting office wear for out-of-office purposes, so these make for a great boyish riff on office casual that feels as comfortable as it looks.
I’ve thought long and hard about what makes me reach for this same jumpsuit in my closet again and again. I mean, they’re easy–a one-and-done look for when you just can’t be bothered–but so are dresses. Perhaps the question is why don’t I reach for dresses? Is there a profound and dignified explanation for this or do I just really, really like pants? I had some serious internal sleuthing to do.
They’ve been a style constant for me in the midst of myriad identity crises. My college years were a period of intense growth–as they should be–and I didn’t know if I’d have the same beliefs on Tuesday that I did on Monday. It was also a period where I questioned my femininity–what makes a woman? Am I a woman? How do I woman? These are perplexing–and exhausting–questions and it was enough to make me seize up and want to throw out my entire wardrobe six times over.
Enter the onesie. When looking at a closet-full of dresses was just another reminder of the bildungsroman that was my life, the jumpsuit stood out. When dresses felt prescriptive, the jumpsuit provided a graceful out that was comfortable, splashy, and empowering.
I suppose what I’m saying is that I’ve been using jumpsuits as a procrastination device against the manuscript that is my journey to womanhood (whatever that even means). To that, though, I say “you become ready to write the thing as you’re writing it.”
Mmm. Maybe not procrastination after all.