One thing I’ve been DROOLING over lately is chiffon. How delicate, beautiful and summery!

Now, I’m no great fan of American Apparel, mostly because I think their campaigns stink, their message is sleazy, and their clothes are the same t-shirts and hoodies I can find on the sale rack at Target. However, I did get roped in to AA the other day after seeing the above long, chiffon skirt on a sidewalk mannequin, blowing in the breeze.

Well, I had to try the skirt on. I grabbed the color I thought most appealing on my pasty Midwestern skin, then realized I had no idea where to go from there. Question mark on forehead, I flagged down one of the hipster-y girls working there and asked her what on earth I was supposed to wear under the translucent garment. She went over to the hosiery and grabbed me —no kidding—a pair of white lace bloomers. Like grandma’s tablecloth stitched into granny panties. I shirked a little and went into the dressing room. The skirt was the most lovely see-through gown I’ve ever seen, but the bloomers beneath it peeked out and gave my rear end the volume of a lace diaper. Disastrous.

I happily went home without the chiffon skirt — or so I thought I was happy. Until Sartorialist posted a photo of this babe rocking her chiffon in Milan — and it all made so much sense to me, to never, ever listen to a hipster-y girl in rose colored Daisy Dukes and a denim blouse when she hands you a pair of doily bloomers.