I Never Met a Sequin I Didn't Like

It's a sad thing to admit, but I think I've reached a point in my sartorial life where I'm facing a clear reality: I might have to actively halt myself from buying any more sequined pieces to add to my wardrobe. I'm not even talking about things that might be embellished with a sequin or paillette thrown here-or-there, I'm talking full-blown, sequin covered, dripping iridescence. I can't pin-point the beginning of my obsession, but I'd guess that, like most of my garmental downfalls, it relates back to my mother (like my weakness for ruffles, and bows, and all things black). This realization became all too transparent when I received two packages today, both containing sequined garments, (is it my fault that I found the perfect New Years Eve dress at ASOS, and it just happened to be glittering and jeweled?) Am I an avid collector, (or more horrifyingly, a hoarder)?

Though I've been wearing sequins since childhood (a point which my mom likes to stress, lest anyone assert she's just following trends rather than setting them... albeit 20-years before they are again relevant), the point at which I officially turned fashion-victim-gone-mad-for-sequins would have to be when I first spotted Proenza Schouler's sequined collection for Fall 2008. I literally stalked the navy blue tee-shirt, with its bits of tulle peaking out from the bottom hem and the sleeves, as it made its way from the runway to my favorite boutiques. There are certain lines I won't cross, and at this point in my life, it's safe to say that spending $825 on a sequin t-shirt was not one of them. But, when it went all the way to the clearance racks at Kirna Zabete, and Julia sent me a $50 coupon code (and insisted I take the plunge), it was mine faster than I could say "Liza Minelli."

Then there was the Anna Sui skirt I bought to wear on New Years Eve. I'm pretty sure I got a couple of laughs and remarks that it would end up at the back of my closet from my friends when I (very sincerely) gabbed about how amazing it was, but it has seen so many parties, burlesque shows, casual weekend strolls, and dive bars that I'm sure even the naysayers would be impressed by its dollar-per-wear value. But then came the belts. And the headbands. And the dresses. And the blazers. And the vintage sweaters with hand sewn gems. And the Miu Miu bag I stared at lovingly in the store window that no-sooner ended up in my arms.

I can't help it, and pardon the cliches, but these little plastic discs send my heart into a flutter. They make me feel sparkly, and mermaidy, and even if I opt to wear my sequined skirts with a thrift store bought levi's denim-jacket-turned vest and a t-shirt (like I did almost all this weekend, and which, by the way, I was wearing when I ran into one of my lifetime heroes, Lynn Yaeger), there's something uniquely exhilarating about them and the way they catch light at just the right angle. There might be days where I'm channeling a bit more retiree in Dade County Florida or toddler playing dress-up than I am channeling fashion-savvy-20-something, but at least I'll be ready if I ever land a gig styling a remake of The Golden Girls.

P.S. Don't forget there's still time to enter my Fallon giveaway.