Style Memories: Betsey Was My First

I’ve realized in the past few days that I misspoke.

On my “Who's That Girl” page, I say that Michael, Michael Kors, that is, was my first.

I was wrong.

Betsey was my first. She was my first self-purchased designer ensemble.

I remember like it was yesterday. Of course.

I was living in a group house in Takoma Park, MD, with 3 other Terps. I was working for a non-profit, doing reasonably well, financially, but not that well. A dear Australian friend came to visit me on one of her long trips to the States.

I couldn’t tell you why we went to Pentagon City mall. Maybe just ‘cause. Maybe one of us was on the hunt for something. Maybe to show her a True American Shopping Experience.

I also couldn’t tell you why we stopped in Betsey Johnson. It was probably me. Nim just isn’t the Betsey type. Nor was I, really, at the time. I’m much more prone to pattern and sequins now than I was at 23 or 24. Back then, I was a jeans girl, through and through.

Somehow, though, I was drawn to the coat. It was - still is, as it still hangs in my closet - a deep red crushed velvet. Faux fur, in a sort of distressed, matted, 90s grungy way. As grunge as Betsey gets, that is. I’m guessing it appealed to my dramatic, Romantic side, the side that still pines over romance novels that disguise themselves as historical fiction, the side that has a soft spot for anything vampire, anything gothic.

Next to it hung a sleek black jersey gown. Much less dramatic, the gown has pretty little appliqué flowers on the straps, making spaghetti straps not spaghetti. The gown is still easy to wear, even though I now have to don a strapless bra. I didn’t have to at 24.

I hemmed and hawed. I wasn’t yet 25, had a 25-year-old type salary, and no real reason to own this ensemble. It was somewhere around $700, even back then. It was, I fully admit, the beginning of the end of a bad financial stage in my life, a stage in which I used an American Express card irresponsibly. At 38, I’m finally clear of the mess I made.

But that ensemble was, I think, well worth the $700. I wore it to death, every time I could. I wore the dress under a turtleneck sweater when I wanted to “dress it down.” I wore it with black knee high boots I sought for ages, finally finding them in Cambridge, UK. I took it to Bremen, Germany, with me for the year.

I wore it on our second date. That would be the second date I had with H. I hadn’t yet fallen for him - but apparently he had for me. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just that I needed to dress “cool.” Out came the Betsey.

I also kinda figured it out. I don’t remember what else he told me that tipped me off, but I figured out that we were going to Blues Alley. We saw The Roy Hargrove Quintet. We went back to Blues Alley so many times I can’t count. That first time we went, it was chilly. The Betsey was perfect. But when he surprised me again, 6 years later, with a Carribean Jazz Project show and a pretty little box, it was summer. I wasn’t wearing the Betsey. In fact, the coat had been relegated to the back of my closet. It didn’t fit. 6 years of my 20s+ dating + world travels without enough exercise meant that my beloved Betsey was just waiting.

Until 3 weeks ago, when I pushed my own style limits and held a little personal fashion show, trying on all sorts of stuff for the week that was All About H. On a whim, I pulled on the coat over a cami and jeans that now fit again.

It fit.

I’m still in love.

I then tried on the dress.

It fit. With a bra, of course, but it fit.

I didn’t end up wearing it to the WW Club we attended that week, but it’s back out of the back of my closet.

The sad part is, of course, that just as I’m able to wear Betsey again, she’s shuttering her doors. I don’t know the whole story. There’s not much in the press. There’s speculation about who will fill the retail gap (Michael Kors, MSN Money? Really? The same consumer? I. Don’t. Think. So.) Betsey’s all that we hope a designer to be - especially an American designer. She’s vibrant, she’s eccentric.

She’s a pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps kinda gal. She’s a cancer survivor. She is, in some ways, the Amercian Dream. I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping, wishing, and dreaming, that this Chapter 11 is just a temporary restructuring strategy. Businesses do that, you know.

Because I can’t wait to wear more Betsey.

Favorite Post: My First Time

PR People, listen up. As much as you'd think I'd use my own name on the blog, I am not "Celine." But there is a reason the blog is DC Celine. Read up. Then change your email lists, please.

And for the rest of you, you must have a moment when you saw, felt, knew...a dress, a look, a sense of style...what was your defining style moment?

I've got lots of thoughts brewing on this lil' ol' blog here, and while I mull them over, I thought I'd pull some of my favorite posts from the past 6+ years (yes, I'm an Old Blogger).

If you have thoughts, ideas, questions, Style Dilemmas, please do send them along! I'd love to hear what you want to read!

The Big Climb: What Made It Into My Closet (or in a shopping bag on the chest in my bedroom because I haven't managed to put them away yet)

As promised, here's what I did buy in my 3 hours, 4 stores whirlwind tour of Chevy Chase (read: Friendship Heights. Let's get real, people. The places I shopped are not the Shops.)

Loehmann's: I bit the bullet and annoyed the Fitting Room Lady with too many items. I actually had no interest in trying on anything. At all. But I did. And despite the MICHAEL Michael Kors dresses not fitting, and the German-designed (designer totally escaping me at the moment) blouses being wonderfully

structured - but not for my current body, I didn't lose hope. I only ended up with a dark mocha pencil skirt, but I did walk away with inspiration for The Climb.

J. Crew: As I tweeted day of, I was very disappointed that this shop (and I do still need to research whether it's a company-wide policy) doesn't carry anything above a 12. Seriously. That's why I went there. Because I know I can get well-tailored, good quality, classic clothes in sizes that fit. In my bag going out the door? A great black & cream sailor T with shoulder buttons (to satisfy my apparent obsession with All Things Nautical and 4 (cream, grey, black, white) cami/tanks I can wear underneath things like Big Comfy Sweatshirts.

Banana: Ah. Home. Here, my frustration was that the 12s and 14s were not. At all. I'm certainly willing to concede differences in cut, but really? You know when you start to try something on, get it only so far, then find yourself saying, out loud, "Uh, no"? Yeah, that's what happened with the trousers I tried on. I did, however, walk out with a cute navy ruffle-front T, a pale blue sort of ballet crewneck sweater, and a Wrap Dress That Fits (oddly with no online picture). I have an eternal struggle with any belted dress, the supposedly flattering on everyone but not really wrap dress included. So when I found this graceful cream and navy version in a weighty, elegant jersey, I was thrilled. I haven't worn it yet, but that's just because I can't bring my self to put tights on with it, and, well, sometimes a girl lets things go longer than she should in the winter.

Gap: My two rouched Ts, black knit dress, and poppy dressy T with flowy scarf neck (bought without trying on at the counter) were the only things of interest in the store. Seriously. I find that The Gap ('cause that's it's real name, and I refuse to change it) goes through long periods of Nothing. This is apparently one of them. The store was filled with Bad 80s and Grey. I'm in love with Grey. Love. But this was too much. Entirely too much.

Cafe at Mazza: mango smoothie and spinach and feta croissant to inhale on the way home to take The Beans to the playground

Still to go?

Buy new shoes. I have a Girls' Weekend coming up next weekend here in Jersey. We're planning a trip to the outlets in AC. If I don't find anything there, I'm banking on ginger and simply soles at DSS. All but one of my Go To pairs I scored there at those boutiques.

Get healthy. Getting there. H and I are vegan for Lent. He's Orthodox, and it's the way they do it. So I'm supporting. I'm not strident about it (evidenced by the Break Day today, in which chili and ice cream were both ingested), but I can tell. Even after just a few days, I feel less well having had my Break Day. So back on the bandwagon tomorrow.

Buy a few pieces I love NOW. Started. And still working.

Keep going. Yup. Am still going.

Style Poll: THE Accessory

Well, I'm a terrible listener.



Despite agreeing with the 100% response on our last style poll, that a big, floppy J.Lo hat is The Don't Forget Beach Accessory (other choices were a sarong, sparkles, and a credit card), I did. I forgot it.



Fortunately, Sea Isle City, NJ, hosts a Big Huge Market in the middle of September every year (the main reason we make the trip this time of year). So I grabbed a $5 cap and am wearing it proudly (GO PHILS!).


That is, when The Bean doesn't grab it from my head and wear it on top of hers.