A letter from a reader

At 63, I finally figured out why nobody ever mentioned my floral blouses

I have never written anything like this before, and I want to say at the start that I am not a writer and I am not in the habit of telling other women what to wear.

But at the fall art fair downtown on Saturday, a woman I had never met asked whether my blouse was from one of the booths, and my friend Patsy laughed so hard she had to sit down. So it seemed easier to write the story down properly.

It starts with a confession. I own a dozen floral blouses. I have worn florals my entire adult life. And I could not tell you one single time another human being has mentioned any of them.

A dozen floral blouses, and not one comment, ever. It took me far too long to work out why.

The problem is the repeat. Every floral I own is the same flower stamped a hundred times, front and back, like wallpaper. And the eye does to wallpaper what the eye always does to wallpaper. It slides right off.

How it happens

Florals are sold to us as the safe way to wear colour, and the repeat is what makes them safe. Stamp the flower evenly everywhere and no single part of it asks to be looked at.

Which works, in the sense that nobody ever looks. We spend our lives in flowers and read as beige.

What I had wrong

I thought the answer to invisible florals was louder florals. Bigger repeats, brighter colours. It is not. A loud repeat is still wallpaper, just shoutier.

The answer is composition. One painting, placed once. The Persephone has poppies painted up one side, coral and pink with loose green leaves, as though the brush simply stopped at the shoulder, and the other side stays plain deep teal. It is art on your clothes rather than pattern, and people look at it the way they look at a picture.

Which is to say, they actually look.

The blouse is called the Persephone

It is from Iris and Nora, a small boutique here in Austin that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now.

The blouse is called the Persephone. A relaxed open shirt in deep teal with a light matte weave and a soft drape, a proper point collar, buttons dyed to match, a curved hem at the hip, and, to my surprise on something this pretty, two hip pockets.

You wear it open, like a light shirt jacket, so the placement reads properly. Over a plain black top and jeans it does all the work in the outfit, and the teal side calms the painted side down, which is what keeps it art rather than costume.

What happened at the art fair

I wore it open over black to the fall art fair downtown, with Patsy, who has seen every floral blouse I have ever owned and mentioned none of them.

By the third row of booths, a woman I had never met stopped me and asked whether the blouse was from one of the exhibitors. At an art fair. Surrounded by actual art.

Patsy had to sit down. I said thank you the way you do when you have already decided to tell everybody about it forever.

Three things I have learned since

One. One-sided is the whole trick. Because the poppies sweep up one side and the other stays plain, the eye has somewhere to travel and somewhere to rest. That is what makes people look, and it is exactly what a repeat can never do.

Two. Open over black is the uniform. The label says it is strongest over black or dark denim and the label is right. Black top, jeans, blouse open, done. It has quietly become the easiest dressed-up-without-trying outfit I own, and the light drape works right through a Texas fall.

Three. Size up if you are between. It is cut loose but runs on the small side, so take the next size up if you hesitate. I did, and it falls exactly as it should. They cut it from an S to a 5XL, and there is a whole fall collection of painted and plain blouses in the same easy shape, twenty-odd designs, which I am rationing myself to browsing weekly.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about this, because it was the thing that made me look twice.

The Persephone is $49.95. It was $100.00.

My first thought was that at that price the print would be a fuzzy transfer on shiny polyester. It is not. The weave is light and matte with real drape, the painted print is crisp with the texture showing through it, and the collar and buttons are properly finished. They are a small boutique selling directly, so there is no department store taking a cut in the middle, and the sale is on now.

I did what I imagine you are doing now and went and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some websites, which if I am honest made me trust it rather more. One woman had written, “I have worn florals my whole life and this is the first one strangers comment on. Open over black it does all the work.” That was the one that decided it for me.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sat on my porch with iced tea and you asked me, this is what I would say.

If you have a closet of florals nobody has ever mentioned, there is nothing wrong with your taste. There is something wrong with the repeat. Wear a painting instead of a pattern, just once, and watch what happens at the next thing you go to.

Not because a blouse will change your life. It will not. But there is something in being asked, at an actual art fair, whether you are wearing one of the exhibits, that I had not known was available for $49.95.

Two practical things. The sale is on at the moment and shipping is free. S to 5XL, size up if you are between, and once this stock is gone, it is gone.

The wallpaper blouses can stay in the closet. I am wearing the painting.

Peggy