Why matching is overrated.

Nothing drives me more crazy than perfectly matching outfits. (Ok, a lot of things make me crazier, but for the purpose of my point, let's pretend this is the pet peeve to end all pet peeves.) The fact that I love wearing grungy sweatpants while carrying my Louis Vuitton bag is a prime example of this. In college, sometimes I would intentionally mismatch my clothes (we are talking orange Ugg boots - yes, don't ask - green basketball shorts and bright pink Juicy jackets) just because I thought it was fun. Now, I think my mismatching has become a little more refined, but I still think the concept is true: matching is sooooo 2005.


If you have ever lived with me or hang out with me regularly when its cool outside, you know that I have a bit of a uniform as soon as the temperature dips below 60 degrees. It's almost as if I rejoice as I see the mercury dropping, I dust off my Uggs and stare longingly at my cardigans, all hanging in the same section of my closet. "YES!" I mentally proclaim, "It is almost time to put the summer clothes away and go back to the comfort zone!"


Now, don't get me wrong, every season has it's fabulous wardrobe - at least when you live in the Pacific Northwest, the only place on Earth (I am convinced) where you actually NEED to own a vest. In winter, its down coats, rain boots, ear muffs and a good umbrella. In summer, its denim cutoffs, swim coverups, Rainbows and razorback tanks. In spring, its Tory Burch flats, leggings and tshirts. But fall...fall is my favorite.


Fall is when my go-to ensemble is in its prime. It's when my "thrown together" look of a tshirt covered by a cardigan topped off with a member of my scarf collection (a. no it didnt start as a collection and b. i only refer to it as such because if a future people should discover my room and dub it an ancient ruin, they could make a museum exhibit out of my scarves alone). It really is the perfect outfit, when finished off with a pair of jeans and flats or leggings and boots. 


I despise perfectly matching color schemes, at least on myself. It may be your cup of tea, but it sure as hell ain't mine. You will never catch me wearing a jacket that matches my boots (unless the jacket is black and the boots are, yup, you guessed it, black). I will never wear earrings that match my bracelets, and you will NEVER see me using a handbag the same color as my shoes. In my opinion, this limits my creativity when it comes to dressing myself.


Now I will be the first person to tell you that I dress more for comfort than for fashion (hence why every pair of boots I own is very broken in and my heels, eh, not so much) but I try to make it what I like to call "casual chic". I would like to think that I have perfected the "I look like I don't care what I am wearing but I actually put a lot of thought into this" or "I know that all these colors worn together create the impression that I got dressed in the dark" but I wouldn't have it any other way. (I also believe that if your makeup looks good, you can wear whatever you want & people won't really give a rats A, but we can discuss that topic another time.)


I like to wear my favorite orange shirt with a deep purple paisley scarf. I like to wear floral prints and pair it with whatever scarf is a color that doesn't appear in the pattern. I'm not saying this is entirely fashion forward of me, I am just simply making the point that colors that usually don't go together can make you look like you threw yourself together but can still leave you looking very put together.


I approach interior design with a similar attitude - I want green offsetting deep purple in my (future) bedroom and a navy couch with yellow, white and turquoise pillows, none of the same style. I like things that are not necessarily in the same boxed set but that create a cohesive aesthetic none-the-less. (Often rendering a look even more appealing than if you had followed the packages directions.)


I think this concept of things that don't match but still look great has implications for the way we live as well. We are often too quick to want the house with the white picket fence in the suburbs with a golden retriever, but what if the thing that will actually make us the happiest is a 5-story walk-up in Brooklyn with floor-to-ceiling windows, exquisite vintage furnishings and a teacup American eskimo named Spike? You will never know unless you give mismatching a try.


Things that appear thrown together may actually be the perfect thing. 


♥mb.