This is as "vintage" as it gets, or How to Mix Two Animal Prints!

Cheetah-print shirt: Vintage, black cardigan: TJ Maxx, red snakeskin belt: NY&Co., khaki pants: Banana Republic, black socks: NY&Co. (hey, I figured since I knew...), black mary janes: Payless

I am so happy with my outfit today! It is pouring outside and a cold front is supposed to be rolling in soon, so I knew I had to wear some pants today. These khaki Banana Republic pants have never let me down, so perhaps I should lay off of BR for a while.

The real star of this outfit, however, is the cheetah-print silk shirt I’m wearing underneath the cardigan. This shirt was my grandmother’s when she was younger than me. I remember I found it out at her house one day when I was around 6, and absolutely fell in love with it (looking back, I think that might have been my drowning point when it comes to sassy clothing items). The material is silk, and it’s so thin that it really should be transparent, but somehow, it’s not. I took it from her (because she didn’t deny her darling granddaughter anything…even a Chinese-collared cheetah print silk shirt at 6 years old. I slept in it for years. My mother hated the thing. Often I would find the shirt “lost” in the back of my closet (or her’s), and she threatened to throw it away on numerous occasions. I’m sad to admit that she did throw it away one time, and I dug it out of the garbage. That’s right, this is a trash-can shirt, too. When they finally moved out of their old house into the new house (after I’d graduated from college), I was in “no clutter” mode and threw out almost every memory I had from childhood that wouldn’t fit into my memory trunk. I couldn’t bear to part with it and shoved it in there. One of the last times I went home, Mom and I were going through that trunk, and I found the shirt! I took it home with me, determined to wear it again. I didn’t remember how pretty the collar was (having worn it unbuttoned half-way to sleep in all my childhood glory and modesty), and believe it or not, I had forgotten how soft and beautiful the fabric was. So here, in all its glory, is my grandmother’s cheetah-print shirt, worn by her, cherished by a child, and loved again by me as an adult. Who knows, maybe one day my daughter will wear it…but I’m not letting my child in a cheetah-print silk shirt until she’s at least 16!