Growing up in the lovely town of Sharon, Massachusetts had its ups and downs. I received a good education, but put up with constant debilitating and emotionally scarring remarks because I wasn’t in honors math. I got to see the Patriots players driving around town, but our high school football team was ridiculed by the state. The last thing I had to worry about was anti-Semitism, but was forced to watch Schindlers List in a public school setting. We boast the largest number of Holocaust death camp survivors in North America (thanks wikipedia) and are always the state tennis champs.
With that said, I was excited to get out after high school and see the world for “realsies.”
One of the things I discovered the provincial town of Sharon was missing is an abundance of Lilly Pulitzer. This makes complete sense considering it’s a waspy brand and the japs I dealt with in the early millenia leaned towards Michael Stars or Juicy Couture. Less happy brands if you will.
So you can understand my complete infatuation with Lilly. It’s obnoxiously cheerful, and the colorful prints scream day drinking like no other.
My favorites from the newly arrived spring 2011 collection are the Whitaker printed dress (pictured above)
and of course, the completely practical leila lace shift.
The light at the end of the tunnel known as winter thesis is spring break. I’m going to some resort in Florida with a group of friends and I can’t wait to pull out my Carrie dip dye dress. Margaritaville will never be the same.
However, one teeters on a precariously thin line with some of these prints. For example, this disturbing image I found on tumblr.The nausea factor was dangerously high with the mother/daughter ensemble, but the addition of menswear is overkill. I hope that’s not supposed to emulate a heterosexual family, I can’t think of a straight man who won ever don a panda bedecked blazer.