Sometimes you have things in your closet that you don’t touch for years.
Sometimes you have things in your closet you wear so often that you search eBay for a “less worn out” version than yours.
dievca found replacements for two dresses this summer:
A Garnet Hill Starlet dress with cherries on it. (bottom photo)
A Plenty by Tracy Reese Blue Macrame Dress:
You may be asking, “Why did dievca have to buy a 2nd dress?” The fabric is made to fade in the wash and become a light denim color. dievca wore and washed the original dress so much that it became white in the macrame section. Someone at Goodwill may be wearing the dress with the white on it. dievca will be more gentle this time.
Everything dievca has put on by Tracy Reese has been fabulously easy to wear. The designer, originally from Detroit, MI has a certain feminine look.
Tracy Reese designs are noted for their femininity and retro-influenced style; the textiles themselves make use of bright colors, elaborate graphic patterns, and a playful use of bohemian touches.
dievca needed a “go to” outfit for the end of the day and it needed to have a light coat, plus be packed in a backpack.
The Macrame knit dress was a “keeper” and dievca added:
Hair curly and in a French Roll. Almay Khaki Eyeliner, Tarte Cheek Stain, Nude Lips.
PS: Just a FYI~ Here’s the second dress dievca replaced with an eBay purchase. She wears it with black Teva flip-flops, or Clark green leather flip-flops. The first dress faded and ended up with piling (after 3+ years of washing).
By William Wordsworth
And in the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and visible for many a mile
The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom,
I heeded not their summons; happy time
It was indeed for all of us- for me
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud
The village clock tolled six- I wheeled about,
Proud and exulting like an untried horse
That cares not for his home. All shod with steel,
We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase
And woodland pleasures- the resounding horn,
The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle; with the din
Smitten, the precipices rang aloud.
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while far distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideways, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex of a star
That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me- even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round!