
Today, we pay special attention to the priesthood of this traveling bolero. Pun intended. This bolero was made for my grandmother in Paris ca. 1986, (do you see how this circles back to the mere fact that the name of this installment includes a French word) just months before she would wear it to her son's wedding. (Also conveniently my father's, though I was but a baby egg back then.)
Emerald City win! I snatched the skirt too. I know what you're thinking on two counts: Yes, my dad is a babe. My good looks don't come from nowhere, wink wink, and yes my grandmother is a chronic Man Repeller in formal wear. She pushed infinite boundaries with her creative license in her younger years. If your husband were the original Birth Control Spec wearer, wouldn't you?
In any case, this particular jacket was one of the first man-repelling garments for my contraceptive-loving behind to come into. I wore it to the Valentino fashion show in Paris last Fall. No one looked at me like I was crazy and so it was a special day.
bolero: Torrente, blouse: Valentino, necklace: Madewell, pants: The Kooples, shoes: Louboutin, images: Naomi Shon
I never wore it in public again but you can often find me gliding around my apartment, likely eating dried mangoes while donning the Pope-wear.
I feel like some sort of alliteration including "Vintage Vendredi" and "Vatican" should factor into this post but in spite of my cathedral legit tendencies, I can't make it flow organically.
And on that note, have a lovely Sabbath!
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