We've all been there. Barefoot and on tip toes, you find yourself in the dressing room of your favorite store, turning this way and that as you try to convince yourself out of that one dress you should have never reached for. But the mirror is doing its usual black magic thing and making the girl staring back at you look like God's next gift to all men. But it's kind of short, you try to reason as you turn back around and look over your shoulder. Can I even sit in this?, you think, not really caring about the answer. Christ I look hot, you finally decide. And seduced by your own butt in that little number, you buy your next mistake.
I know, I know. What were you thinking? What was I thinking? It's just going to sit in the back of our closets, silently judging us as we, yet again, reach for that same floral dress we wear every Saturday night. It's just hanging there, smug in its knowledge that we can't really pull off the short hem without the shopping-treat-latte hazing our judgment.
Or can we?
I think we can. Just maybe not as a dress as it was originally intended.
You see, I've fallen for that lapse of judgment more times than I'm willing to admit. To you or to myself. Beyonce was playing over the speakers, the mirrors made my thighs look deceptively Kate Upton-y, and next thing I knew I was shimmying in the changing room, thinking of all the boys I was going to wink at once I hit the bars in the sweet little number. But we all know there were no more shimmies. No more winks.
That is, until now. Last weekend I was planning a fancy night out in Chicago; one where cocktails were made by handsome men in suits and there were more forks on my napkin than I knew what to do with. Knowing that the bar was raised high, I wanted to look elegant and classic. And what was my most elegant piece? This blush pink, ruffled sleeve, mini dress. That also, as luck would have it, liked to sneak past my derriere every time I sat down. It was a horrible situation I've put myself in: the piece was too difficult to wear, but impossible to throw out. I was stuck.
Until inspiration hit. If the hem was too short anyhow, why didn't I go all in and make it shorter? As in, turn it into a top? So out came the scissors, and a few slightly-nervous hacks later I had a gorgeous top to tuck into my high waist bell bottoms. Then, wanting to give the flirty number a dueling, masculine vibe, I added suspenders to add interest to the look but in a minimal, clean way.
Now, to dust off the rest of the toddler-sized dresses hanging in the back of my closet...
PS: Want more inspiration on how to wear your dresses as tops? Why don't you read:
- Breathe New Life into Old Vintage Dresses
- A Look You Need to Copy Right Now: The French Girl
- Lady Like Outfits
DRESS: French Connection (vintage similar: here)
PANTS: H&M (vintage similar: here, here, here | store similar: here, here)
SUSPENDERS: H&M men's section
LIPSTICK: Revlon Cherry Bomb