This is quite possibly the most emotional time of the year.
Putting all SAD issues aside, the holidays pose a number of threats,
from the familial to the financial, all standing under the long shadow
of excess calories, sinus infections, and recurring hangovers. On the
other hand, society practically forces us to smile and party through
the pain and pitfalls, to be generous and reunited, and—one would
hope—to get dressed up, at least once.
For someone who came to Portland only to be shocked by the
perma-casual atmosphere, the party season is a boon—I love to see
how Portlanders dress festively, which, mind you, is not always
translated into fancy. The slouchy reputation we have is not
undeserved, but we are only beginning to get credit for how free and
unique an experience it is to get dressed in this town. Unburdened by
the pressures of status dressing, the stylish Portlander could have as
easily procured their wardrobe from the Goodwill bins (1740 SE
Ochoco in Milwaukee) as Mario’s 3.10 (Bridgeport
Village—17031 SW 72nd in Tigard)—or, more typically, a
combination of both.
Whether or not you claim to care about fashion, the no-pressure
populism of local style merits appreciation. It’s not about money, much
less labels (unless you want it to be), but individuality and intent.
This plays out at every price point, but the local boutique renaissance
we’re enjoying really underscores the personality-driven code of
costume, with shop owners culling lines from around the world as well
as locally, based on little more than their own idiosyncratic
preferences.
If you’ve got some scratch (hello, Oregon State tax refund), check
out some of the occasion dressing options at Una (2802 SE
Ankeny), where eclectic, elegant European imports rub shoulders with
local Daniel McCall‘s studies in timeless precision. Pieces by
such lines as Coven and Mociun exude personality and are
rarely straightforward—it’s worth taking the time to try on what
intrigues you here, as many of the pieces are full of particularities
that express themselves in fit. Down the street at Stand Up
Comedy (811 E Burnside, #119) you’ll find a small selection of
intellectual lines like Patrik Rzepski, Staerk, and
Rachel Comey, plus a great collection of jewelry, from necklaces
of oversize ruffles (All or Nothing) to awe-inspiring crocheted
metal necklaces from Arielle de Pinto and large cut-glass
bracelets from Saskia Diez.
If a dress is what’s needed, The English Dept. (1124 SW
Alder) has great options, and if you’re looking for a formal
event-appropriate find, their unfussy bridal selection can often double
for other black tie occasions—sift through offerings from
Development, (co-owner) Elizabeth Dye, Simple
Silhouettes, Vera Wang Maids, and more, plus a small
selection of jewelry and the odd bolero.
As for the guys, suits and collared shirts should be standard
investments, and you’ll be hard pressed to end up with anything boring
from Adam Arnold (727 SE Morrison, by appointment),
Duchess (226 SE Madison, by appointment), or a broken
spoke (2305 NW Savier). Last year I nagged that men in Portland
should wear ties more often, and this year? Bowties! Find a vintage one
at Magpie (520 SW 9th), the bigger and woollier the
better—and don’t bypass the downtown vintage staple’s other
accessories, from reams of costume jewelry to hats and scarves, you’ll
be able to channel any persona or era.
Ankle boots are still huge, for men and women, and you can find them
at any price, used or new. More adventurous guys can experiment with
shiny white loafers like the ones recently spotted at Johnny
Sole (815 SW Alder), and heels in every color of the rainbow are a
no-brainer for women, although the industry is still pushing metallics
and patent leather—take it to the extreme with the sky-high
patent gray Dries Van Noten wedges at Halo Shoes (1425 NE Broadway) if you dare.
…Or don’t. Carry on with your nonchalance, studied or
unstudied—you’re still invited to the party.