"This is New York, Jim, we wear black; and that's only until something darker comes along." - Marsha Bickner (Christine Baranski), Welcome to New York
Before I moved to New York, my closet closely resembled the colors of the rainbow. Red, orange, yellow, green and blue hung in my closet just waiting for a day out on the town (the surf town that is) to pierce someone's eyes. Thinking back now, I'm not actually sure that I owned even the simplest black tank top. A little black dress was also not likely.
Spring forward three years--yes, it's been three years since I've retired my Rainbow flip flops and extensive collection of bathing suits--and my closet would never dare take in the assortment of colors it once did. See, New York has a way of bringing out the moody side of people. And not in the emotional sense of the word (well, not entirely).
Black on black on black is a color scheme that has been accepted by most people in this glorious little city, including myself. I've taken to a wide variety of neutrals: grey, black, nude, and if I'm feeling really crazy, army green. Which brings me to my larger point. This button down was seriously neglected in the deep corners of a Bloomingdales sale last winter. Hunched over a lone hanger near where the rest of the color-clad pieces were hung. Apparently an extra 40% off is only exciting if it's from the colorless rack.
I snagged this little Free People number planning to wear it as much as possible. Hell, I was bringing a little color back into my life.