If you’ve been reading Earl Earl for a while, you know I’m more of a pants gal than a skirts and dresses girl. I have to kind of remind myself to try a skirt, and when I do wear a dress, it’s usually tent-like and the kind of thing you throw on after swimming with wet hair and nothing underneath. Dresses for me are generally more of a utilitarian item - I wear them for these newsletters and I make myself play with them, and I have a lot of fun with that, but in my real every day life, or if you know me IRL, you’re unlikely to ever see my in a dress, dress, much less a skirt.
And if I’m going to play shrink with myself, I think it’s because I struggle with the idea of traditional femininity. As a mother, I bristle at what’s expected of moms because we’re women. I don’t like to think that any of those societal norms apply to me, though I live a pretty hetero-traditional life. At home, there isn’t a strict adherence to oldschool gender roles (my husband cooks, for example), but when I think of how I want to move through the world, and how I want to be seen in a greater way, I want to project practicality, independence, functionality, and humor. I’ve alluded to this in this newsletter, and addressed it a bit more directly on Your Mom, but I’m in the middle of a life-shift, and it has required me doing something extremely foreign to me - asking for help. Asking for help, in my mind, means admitting weakness, or failure, and every bit of my brain and heart screams at that idea. And I know this sounds like a reach, but dressing in a feminine way feels like I’m playing into the damsel in distress role - it’s hard for me to connect feminine dressing with strength. And that complex exists entirely in my own head - I don’t see other women as weak when they wear a ruffle, or a floral print - it’s only me.
At the same time, I’ve felt a bit stuck in my protective Connecticut Dad tomboyishness. It’s so intrinsic to me, my style, and my view of myself, but I honestly want to evolve. Evolve without compromising my me-ness. Meanwhile, at my age, it’s very rare that I feel truly inspired or influenced by someone else. I can admire someone’s style, but it’s not often that it leads me to thing…what can I take from that. My self-assuredness and self-knowledge can cross over into stubbornness or close-mindedness. , who writes the brilliant substack Consider Yourself Cultured, is the only one of my peers who truly makes me reconsider how to put things together, and what style can communicate. His style pushes mine, and it reminds me of when I was younger, and still open to influences outside myself. It makes me feel vulnerable in a really refreshing way.
One thing I’m extra inspired by, is his freedom in playing with heavily female-coded clothing. He wears a pencil skirt like nobody else, meanwhile also can dress like a camp counselor circa 1986. He’s an expert at layering and accessorizing, telling a story with his look, that also feels entirely effortless and joyful. If it seems like I’m gushing, it’s because he gives me so much hope and excitement about a generation of dressers that previously made me feel kind of bummed out and worried. The trend cycles of TikTok and the like make me worry that those of the younger generation won’t ever have the time or space to create their own personal style. But maybe not!
Anyway, that’s a lot, but the topic of this newsletter is ~the skirt shape of the summer~ and because I admire Jalil so much, and because the above screenshot lives permanently on my desktop, I sought him out for one of the looks, and crafted the others taking a bit of inspiration from him.