As I approach my two year anniversary of living in the City of Angels, I realize that my style actually has evolved. But not in the way you think it would have.
The thing is…it’s only evolved to become MORE atypical of L.A.
Call it stubbornness (even in the face of practicality), but I still don’t own a single pair of flip flops, and last spring it was a painstaking process to find shorts that I liked and fit well.
As I stood debating in an AllSaints recently over a sale sweater that I absolutely NEEDED but could only maybe barely swing due to the cost of the holidays, traveling, and not working (as a freelancer, I have one of those jobs where if you don’t work, you don’t get paid), I began doing mental calculations in my head not only with financial figures but number of weeks until summer. And how many sweaters I had sitting at home. And how many sweaters one really needs in HelLa. I’d been searching for the absolute perfect navy sweater for months (I have a serious problem with indecision and overall pickiness), and this cashmere boyfriend number by the beloved cool kid brand was exactly what I had in mind.
But the indecision sent me into a week-long internal debate which, in addition to further examination of my wardrobe that told me I A) had way too many old tees I didn’t wear anymore and B) a plethora of sweaters that I did but wouldn’t be able to in a few short months, made me realize that sweaters and I needed to go on a break. And that I need to calm the fuck down.
Living in SoCal, what better item to rebound with than tees?
I’m talking soft, supple tees of jersey, silk, and cotton that perfectly drape and flatter, the kind that make a basic Hanes number weep in shame.
Behold some of my favorites:
The Wrong Coast 
Reblogged this on Ashley Staples.