The Discomfort Series Episode One: YELLOW.

WYSLTWRT: Vulfpeck “Back Pocket”

I have always had a love-hate relationship with the color yellow. I loved yellow flowers, yellow on clothing, yellow anywhere and everywhere. I grew up planning to have a yellow kitchen (I’m still lowkey planning to have a yellow kitchen). I love love loooved yellow. But, at the same time, growing up Asian (and “Jungle Asian” at that) I was taught to be disgusted with the way the color looked on my skin. I was really self-conscious about being dark, especially in middle school; wearing yellow was the literal highlighter on the things I hated about my complexion. One of my go-to explanations was “yellow on yellow action is a no-go for me.” Comments like these, as I’ve mentioned in a number of my writings in the past, were the easy and comical way for me to connect to a culture I couldn’t claim while catering to the rhetoric of a community from which I was barred. Yellow was my untouchable, beautifully bright limbo color.

I recently came to the decision that my love for yellow shouldn’t be stifled by the discomfort I have with wearing it. So, since the best way to learn is through immersion, I decided to put on a ton of yellow, style it so I feel confident, and go to a busy town and pose in it. Thus, the Discomfort Series is born! Episode one: YELLOW.

What about this outfit makes me uncomfortable? Yeah, okay. The color is obvious at this point. But let’s also talk about the design of the dress itself.

The dress alone is maxi, pretty shapeless, with ruffles and spaghetti straps. I don’t generally wear tank tops, as I’m a bit self conscious about my shoulders and arms. I’ve recently been into ruffles, but they used to make me feel like I was calling a lot of attention to myself and my, well, flowiness. The fact that the dress has no shape is something I previously would have felt lost in, but I now find it somewhat comical and very ~high fashion~. I will say, though, that my first instinct was to add strappy heels and a belt to this outfit to remind everyone (primarily myself) of my own shapeliness. Alas, the Leandra Medine/Alexa Chung/Nicole Kliest in me told me to keep it simple, stupid. So here I am in my black chucks. I originally thought white low tops would look better and that I’d have to settle for my black ones, but after the shoot I found that the black shoes translate really well.

Let’s talk about the jacket.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so hung up on a piece of clothing in a Target before. THIS is the denim jacket I have been looking for all my life. I know I’m having a moment right now with small ruffles but even with those aside, this jacket is simple and comfortable and a perfect fit and lightweight while still having substance and it SMELLS like the dye still and I live for all of it.

But, also, like, peep the ruffles.

Anyway.

For the hair, I put it into a ponytail wet and let it air dry. Then I took a bobby pin and shoved it up the underside of the rubber band so the hair would stand up like a little fountain. Oh, and my hair is colored now! That and my ear piercings are both new developments since my last style post.

My choice to start wearing ascots began with the yellow crusade. I was trying to decide what to wear/how to style the color when I came across this on sale at Urban Outfitters. I thought it was a good baby step, something I could wear and get used to before I completely committed to full-on egg yolk. Not only did I get comfortable with the vibrancy of it, but also the style; I have since added a grey flowery ascot to the mix. More to come.

Fun tip: Take your sunglasses and put both temples through the button holes in your jacket. That way they’re within reach, safely attached to your body, and still a part of the outfit.

I think one of the most disarming thing about doing this was going out in public. I was bright, in-your-face, banana lady with orange lipstick walking around downtown franklin with a dude with a camera. If I had done this without preparing myself to like the way I looked, I think I would have chickened out really quickly. To decide to own a look, however, is a conscious choice. Thankfully, for one of the first times in my life, I consciously chose to own my look. Here’s the result:

Byeeee!!!!

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Much love,

Erin