Rebecca M. Wornette

wornfashionjournal_rebecca

I love Google-searching celebrity net worths, being the passenger (instead of the driver), and watercolour paintings. I hate the sound of hands touching cardboard, part two of any musical ever, and writing introduction paragraphs about myself. “Maybe I’ll get better at it the more blogs I start,” I thought, 8 blogs ago. I feel most comfortable hiding behind a camera or scribbling notes and doodles on any paper surface within reach—in most cases, the subjects of my photos and doodles have been fashion.

A visceral response has always dictated how my style evolves. I chose my aesthetics based on “I feel like that right now” or “that dress is how I want the world to see me.” Consequently, I had a brief bandana phase after watching Pirates of the Caribbean and, since I discovered the 1960s, a special place in my heart for big hair and short dresses; I regret nothing. Every hit and miss is important, even the experiments gone horribly wrong have contributed to the development of my style—at least I can now say for sure that bandanas are definitely not my thing.

WORN, I feel, is about sharing knowledge, promoting self-reflection, and providing connections as tools to defining fashion on one’s own terms. I’m excited to be a part of a publication that encourages individuality and empowers people through fashion—rather than dictating and selling an impossible carbon-copy image.

Current Inspirations

Lorde’s Tumblr

Her blog is exactly how you’d imagine Lorde’s songs would look in a collection of images. Occasional musings and signal boosting other, little-known, eerie-sounding bands complete the atmosphere. I can get lost on this page for hours; every detail seems so effortless and yet incredibly well thought-out.

Feeling Groovy: High School Fashion 1969

This collection of photos is one of my most visited bookmarks. Head-to-toe paisley and psychedelic pattern stockings should never have gone out of style. If I could time travel, the 1960s would be my first stop—for now, I’ll settle for these pictures.

Movies in Colour

This site is a happy place for me. Movies are an endless source of inspiration to me and have had the most influence on my style. Most recently I started my own t-shirt collection and got an over-sized leather jacket in homage to Mitsuko from Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train.

On the Street

Veteran street style photographer Bill Cunningham doesn’t like “in” and “out” lists. All people participate in fashion and confidence is what completes any outfit. He captures confidence in all shapes and forms, documenting the patterns he finds on his weekly segment for the New York Times. There’s nothing better than seeing people from all walks of life, with all sorts of interpretations of style, captured in candid moments.

The Pulp Zine

Pulp is kind of like a moody mood-board. It’s filled with short, helpful posts about everything from “Loving Your Labia” to “Astreauxlogy: Shit to Do with Your Hair” (based on your horoscope), and pretty photos filtered with rosy hues or shot intentionally blurry. It’s crafty and cute and very teen angsty. It makes me nostalgic for a time I never even lived.

Carl Wornette

Our newest styling intern is inspired by striking visuals and minerals and almost became a chemist

carl

Since boyhood, fashion has been my one true love. I grew up under the roof of a fashion house. My designer father and boutique-owner mother instilled in me the absolute conviction that I, too, would claim a place in their world. Though my passion for style has never truly wavered, I took tentative steps in other directions. Namely, I studied chemistry at Dalhousie, which I now look back on as such a departure. Thankfully, the decision to move to Toronto this September coincided with rediscovering my love of fashion and styling. And so, here I am: a Wornette.

Current Inspirations

Disturber Magazine

Predictably, my most powerful sources of inspiration are visual. This magazine, which showcases new work from emerging photographers, consistently provides me with these sources. Between the mind-blowing colours, patterns, and textures, Disturber Magazine is something I return to time and time again.

The Mineralogist

My roommate Kelsey is a goldsmith. When she showed me her collection of gemstones and jewels, it was instant love. I wanted more, more, MORE. The Mineralogist is a blog where I spend hours exploring my new-found passion for all that is shiny and sparkly.

A Pair & A Spare

This is a blog that shares lots of DIY fashion and home projects. It is actually very amazing and practical to see how your own hands can make things and how you too can become a “DIY fashionista.” For an aspiring fashion designer/stylist, this blog offers many learning opportunities!

Humans of New York

They say New York is the centre of the world. It’s true. The city is packed full of different people, cultures, and stories. This blog is not about fashionable, trendy people who are simply following the pack; it is about regular people living their daily lives. To me, this is just so much more interesting than the mediocrity of following.

Band of The Day App

This is a cool music app for smartphones. Every day, the app introduces one different band from all around the world. It is always refreshing and nice to hear some unusual and new music styles by different artists around the globe!

Très Click: “Cool Japan Initiative” Edition

Wornettes love the internet; here's what we've been reading recently

Craft collective Blackmeans, via Business of Fashion

Craft collective Blackmeans, via Business of Fashion

The Ups and Downs of Japan Fashion Week
Style blogger extraordinaire Susie Bubble recently went to Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week in Tokyo and reported on it for Business of Fashion. It opens with an account of a very business-like presentation (flow charts are involved) on steps the Tokyo fashion industry plans to take in better integrating itself in the global fashion market. It’s a fascinating look at the intersection of some of fashion’s most artistic and commercial aspects, made palatable by Susie’s accessible writing. Plus, there are some great looks at some of the season’s more memorable collections.

What My Daughter Wore
In this charming take on personal style blogs, a Brooklyn artist illustrates outfits worn by her children and their friends. These kids have a better aesthetic sensibility than I do now in my twenties—my personal faves include the looks dubbed “Space Jam” and “Front Pocket Candy.”

The Logic of Stupid Poor People
Many of the think pieces that I read on conspicuous consumption tend to take an un-nuanced (though not necessarily inaccurate) angle on the flaws of capitalism. Tressie McMillan Cottom writes this brilliant piece that implores people to take into account personal narratives that may lead a lower class person to spend $2,500 on a handbag.

Fashion Victims Unite: Manchester’s Late ’70s – Early ’80s Perry Boys Subculture
Sigh. I spend so much time reading about fashion and fashion history, fooling myself into believing I have a pretty extensive knowledge on Things That Have Happened in Regards to Clothing, only to stumble onto articles about entire stylish subcultures that I had no idea existed (like this one, over at Dangerous Minds). Frequent reminders that there is always more to learn.

Princess in the Land of Machos
I leave you with Nicola Ókin Frioli’s photo series on Mexico’s cross-dressing community. These gorgeous shots speak for themselves. What are you doing still reading this? Go check it out.

The Stories We Tell

Five Wornettes revisit the fictional characters that inspired their closets growing up

Moon Prism Power!
When I was about 10 years old (pushing the limits of an appropriate age for a cartoon obsession), I loved Sailor Moon. She was my moon goddess of style. Though my love may have shifted from Sailor Scout to Sailor Scout, it was the idea of a sassy uniform only put on through an intense and magical costume change that I found most appealing.

The fantasy driven schoolgirl fashions had me acting like a fool as I begged my parents for the whole kit and kaboodle of consumer products marketed to my tween self. I remember the tense Christmas morning phone call between a friend and I as we discussed who had gotten what under the tree that morning. It was as if we thought it made us better people to have added to our growing collection of imported plastic accessories that made us “feel” like we really were “Super Sailor Scouts”—stylish schoolgirls with badass super powers.

As I got a bit older, my obsession stuck in the back of my mind. I couldn’t bear to part with the dolls, t-shirts, and plastic wands that hung around collecting dust in my closet. The cool punk girls I met in high school shared my secret love. We regularly discussed how awesome our animated hero and her friends were.

How did this totally fanciful, junk-food TV show fit in with my new found, anti-consumerist, teenage feminist rants? I began to reposition my fascination, turning my old Sailor Moon nightgown into a hot butch muscle tee and mixing the cutesy Sailor Moon-inspired pigtails of my youth into a riot grrrl-inspired statement. Perhaps the rumours of a lesbian love affair between Sailor Neptune and Uranus had even had an influence on my queerness. Even though I’ve more or less retired this obsession, I still get giddy every time I see a Japanese school uniform, excited at the thought of the magic that the girls who sport these get-ups possess. // Jenna Danchuk

Ten Points for Slytherin
I was obsessed with Harry Potter as a kid to the point that I managed to convince myself that a) I was his sister and b) Voldemort was stalking me. Okay, I’ll admit—I’m still obsessed. I couldn’t watch the last part of the last movie because I couldn’t deal with the fact that the series was ending. Before, when I identified as Gryffindor, I was partial to their house colours of red and gold. I was really big on wearing men’s ties as accessories (eat your heart out, Avril Lavigne). I used to carry a wand around until I was, like, 12. My mom claimed it was just a stick and told me to grow up. (Muggles, am I right?) Unfortunately, I haven’t. I still have the wand (yew, dragon heartstring core, inflexible), lying around somewhere.

When I was 10, I got glasses for the first time, and I didn’t feel like a Horrible Nerd Dorkasaurus as I might have had I got them at an earlier stage. I felt like this further confirmed my assumption that Harry Potter and I were related and I was actually a witch. The reason I wasn’t accepted to Hogwarts, I told myself on my 11th birthday, was because it is in England, and I lived in Canada, and Hogwarts Express doesn’t cross the ocean. Obviously. Anyway, Harry Potter made me feel cool about my glasses. I was in good company.

As I got older, I started to get into Harry Potter from a different perpective. I realized that I was cleary a Slytherin, and that green and silver were the way to go. I still like red and don’t hate Gryffindors, but I avoid gold clothing if I can help it and wear silver instead. // Sofie Mikhaylova

Here. Swear. Swear on Chanel.
I can’t remember being obsessed with anything other than dalmatians as a child, but in Grade 10 I fell under the spell of Carrie Bradshaw. The obsession spilled over to Sarah Jessica Parker (does anybody really differentiate between the two?) and I can remember going to school wearing my Great Grandmother’s broaches as fasteners on an asymmetrical grey cardigan, an homage to her Gap campaign.

My all-time favourite outfit during this phase was based on a dress from the final episode of the series. It was a sea-foam green tulle skirt which I made myself and layered over a structured black halter dress, meant to emulate the dress Carrie runs across Paris in, eventually reuniting with Big (gush). I wore it to our high school’s drama and dance awards.

I think the only problem my obsession with Carrie’s fashion might have caused was that it was so different from what everyone else was wearing in my high school, and so I sort of stuck out like a sore satin-gloved thumb. While everyone was showing up for class in jeans or sweatpants, I was wearing chiffon floral skirts and oversized fake flowers pinned to my cardigan. // Casie Brown

“Whoever said orange is the new pink was seriously disturbed.”
Growing up, I always got the idea that my peers didn’t think I was very smart. No matter how high my grades, my optimistic attitude combined with my affinity to wear pink matching outfits and my blonde streaked hair made me an easy target for dumb blonde jokes. I felt destined to be intellectually downtrodden until the day I saw Legally Blonde. Elle Woods was just like me: fun, girly, and smarter than she looked. I faked an eye exam and got cute glasses, paired knee socks with heels, and began telling everyone I would go to McGill, to which one boy said, “Alyssa, you’ll never be smart enough to go to McGill.” But, like Elle, I studied hard and tried to be best friends with everyone regardless of their judgment. The climax of my Elle Woods phase involved a head to toe hot pink Betsey Johnson corduroy outfit, complete with hot pink knee boots my mother acquired in Las Vegas, accessorized with a pink basket full of pink cookies which I spent my high school day handing out to students. After that I started dating a drama guy and went from Pretty in Pink to Checkerboard Ska. It was a rocky transition.

I never did get to McGill, but only because they didn’t offer a program as well known and successful as the Ryerson School of Journalism, where I am currently finishing my degree. I do, however, still wear pink with pride, and sometimes when I get to class and take out my floral notebook and rainbow pen set, I smile to myself and silently thank Elle for helping me find my smart self. // Alyssa Garisson

All I want is a dress with puffy sleeves.
Anne of Green Gables was a really important book for me as a child. I just liked how she was so herself, even though that self was a little weird and loud and prone to unfortunate accidents. I’ve never dyed my hair green (by accident, that is), I’ve never gotten my best friend drunk (by accident, that is), and I’ve never floated away in a lake and been rescued by a mischievous, handsome boy from school (not yet, that is). I might not have had flaming red hair, but I did have big, bushy, brown curls—I stuck out in the sea of sleek blonde hair that was the style for all the pretty girls in elementary school.

When I first read Anne of Green Gables, I didn’t fully understand what “puffed sleeves” were—I remember looking in a mirror and holding my sleeves up off my shoulder in an attempt to visualize what Anne was talking about—but I definitely sympathized with Anne’s yearning for trendy clothes that her adopted guardians couldn’t afford. As a child, all my clothes came from the sale section of a local discount outlet store. I always wanted what I couldn’t have: designer purses, t-shirts with logos printed on them, $30 lipgloss from department stores. My mother had a very Marilla Cuthbert attitude towards the whole thing. They’re both very practical women who work hard to balance a small budget and are seemingly impervious to trends or impractical wants. I’m the complete opposite—as soon as I was old enough to work, I worked in the trendiest boutiques and department stores, spending my minimum wage earnings on the latest styles.

Once, when I was working at a law firm and had lots of disposable income, I came across a cardigan that had legitimately puffed sleeves. It was a black button-down sweater with ruched stitching on the shoulders, giving them a raised, “puffed,” look. I don’t know if the designers had Anne of Green Gables in mind when they designed it, but I bought it immediately. I never wore it. It’s not really my style. I didn’t relate to the actual puffed sleeves—I related to Anne’s wanting. I understood desiring what you can’t really have. Besides, buying those items for yourself rarely fills a void. When Anne finally gets her puffed sleeves, it’s because Matthew, her guardian and best friend, knows that puffed sleeves will make Anne happy and sets out to get them for her. I’ll always remember how I felt reading about Anne unwrapping the paper on her beautiful brown dress that Matthew got Mrs. Lynde to make. Anne had someone who really understood her and who would have done anything to make her happy. I like to imagine that Anne never gave away or threw out that dress because it reminded her of how much she and Matthew loved each other. She outgrew the puffed sleeves, but she never outgrew their relationship. BRB, crying forever. // Haley Mlotek

photography// brianne burnell