ANN’S FASHION FORTUNES By Ann Rosenquist Fee
Not your Millais’ Ophelia DEAR ANN: Some fellow art nerds and I recently did a Lady of the Lake-themed photo shoot at Hallet’s Pond. When I shared the photos on social media, a friend messaged me to ask if I was OK. Was my just-for-fun reenactment of John Everett Millais’ Ophelia (circa 1851) not really about living out an art history fantasy, but rather some subconscious highbrow cry for help? DEAR READER: If so, well played! Although I’d fine-tune that a little bit, and call it a cry for connection or community — a dog whistle of sorts, so that other art nerds might spot you and be inspired by your example and feel like “now here is someone who gets me, perhaps I’m not alone, perhaps I’d like to do my own version of artfully conveying my emotional state.” Ideally you’re hearing from those people, too, with a different kind of message, one that’s more like “that photo is awesome, as is your suggestion that some days we all feel like we’re in some kind of singing/drowning limbo.” Perhaps you’ve invented something that can take the place of Vaguebooking or Humble Brags, and all of our feeds might soon be filled with honest, complex representations of the simultaneous lightness and darkness of living life. If so, it would be a noble accomplishment worth confusing a friend or two, and wrecking a dress. DEAR ANN: I’m in a new phase where I’m painting my nails all the time, which requires buying new colors. I often end up disliking the colors right away so I get my stash at the dollar store to keep this habit affordable. One of my latest whims involved a great color, robin’segg blue, but when it dried, the texture was weirdly bumpy. I knew it wasn’t a function of old polish, which bubbles, because as noted I am stocking up on new polish as if 44 •OCTOBER 2021 • MANKATO MAGAZINE
Sara Buechmann, decidedly alive, at Hallet’s Pond in St. Peter. Photo by Emily Stark. we’re about to experience a supply chain shortage. I looked at the tiny print on the bottle, and guess what, it said the polish had a “sneaker texture.” What kind of sneakers? Which sneakers are bumpy? How does this add value to my manicure? DEAR READER: Nail art has become increasingly complex in recent years, with texture as its own sub-genre — crackle, glitter, matte, obviously now the crepe soles of sneakers. It’s a whole different paradigm than the one that was in place as you came of age (I’m guessing), when frosty was as wild as it got and everything could be removed with non-acetone Cutex. You need not like the bumps. At the same time, in the interest of possibly discovering some new texture that exactly expresses something you had no idea you needed your manicure to express, I suggest you keep buying and painting and trying. DEAR ANN: Right after the DIY phase of masks, once retail figured out how to make them cute, I bought a whole bunch of them in fun prints
and colors to coordinate with my usual wardrobe. Now I’m seeing all these new mask fashions for fall, and dang if I’m not really drawn to the ones marketed as “blush” colors. They’re so plain, so basic, that I feel I should find them boring compared to my existing mask wardrobe. But they seem somehow foundational like a good white shirt or a bra that fits. Why are these solid-colored blush-toned masks speaking to my fashion soul? DEAR READER: They’re speaking to all of us, sending us into the timeless style quandary that’s a mix of “wait why didn’t we think of this before” plus “do I have to get rid of my old stuff?” plus “awesome, a new thing to buy!” Not only do those jewel-toned peaches and browns and maroons echo the colors found on an actual human face and therefore look less weird and masquerade-like than some jaunty print that matches your outfit, they also allow makeup wearers to approximate the palate they’d otherwise create with lipgloss and bronzer and foundation. Hold onto your first-generation masks as historical artifacts but
