#LL Bean full length coat

[heritagecollectibles]

Beautiful Dark Green Wool Blend LL Bean Coat with Faux Fur Cuffs & Hood

Beautiful Dark Green Wool Blend LL Bean Coat with Faux Fur Cuffs & Hood

[lightyaoigami]

hello!! i want to thank you again for the alignmentverse powerpoint, it was the perfect cheery on top to such a fun series. i'm also super curious about the cardigan L wore in teams. 🤔 i don't know if you had any brand or color for it in my mind, but the idea of L in a cardigan left me stricken with cute aggression. idk how Light lives without squishing L's cheeks every moment of the day. i love them to bits.

good morning!! from my time zone, anyway. thank you for the love on the ppt :') i make decks all the time for my job so it was nice to make one that wasn't about corporate finance. lol.

anyway, i didn't have a specific cardigan in mind, but i was kind of picturing something like this ~vintage~ one from ll bean:

as an aside this is where i will plug ebay for any and all wool goods. i got the sickest 100% wool, silk lined, full length coat for $25. ebay please sponsor me!

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: The North Face Resolve Reflective Jacket - Blue Wing Teal Fern - Ws XS/Girl’s XL.

[fowardfashionfindz]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Women's Sailcloth Sweater Knit Fleece Hooded Coat.

[gr8female-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Ultralight 850 Jacket Womens L Down Hooded Coat Full Zip.

[butlersforge]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Vintage Brown Down Filled Long Puffer Coat Size XS.

[missanissa71]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Winter Coat Jacket Women’s Large Hood Fleece Lined Mid Thigh Plum Purple.

[mommiessecret]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: VTG Mens LL BEAN FULL ZIP WOOL NYLON Insulated Jacket Coat 2XL Red Plaid Hunting.

[funnydove-blog]

Best in Class

I call it Old Money Style. It’s often called ‘preppy’, sometimes ‘Ivy Style’, referring to the Ivy League schools in the northeast region of the United States, where this mode of dressing originated almost a century ago. Whatever you call it, it’s the way Old Money Gals have been dressing for decades.

This traditional, comfortable, discreet, and elegant manner of dress has endured, oblivious to the winds of fashion. It remains a benchmark. Use it as your North Star, should you find yourself at a loss for wardrobe direction. It exclusively involves natural fabrics, leans toward solid colors, and will serve you extremely well over the course of your life.

Should you adopt this style, people may not notice what you’re wearing on a specific day, but they will over time come to consider you as always ‘well dressed’, regardless of whether they see you in the office, around the neighborhood, or at a social event.

Again: the way you dress is nonverbal communication. When you opt to dress as an Old Money Gal, your style is communicating some important ideas to others about you: you’re confident about your future, secure enough not to have to attract attention strictly with your clothes, independent in your thinking, and unapologetic about your values. You convey the idea that your attributes go much deeper than what meets the eye, and that, in order to find out what those are, someone will have to take an interest and make an effort to get to know you. You’re not on display for anyone’s amusement, entertainment, or approval.

Furthermore, you establish yourself as a person uninfluenced by passing trends, someone who doesn’t need the latest fashion to prop up her self-esteem. You’re presenting yourself as someone with self-respect and traditional values—the opposite of arm candy. All these things are going to work in your favor as you make a first impression, and as you create an appearance that conveys how you expect to be treated: fairly and with respect.

Random thing to consider: you’ve seen family photos that are ten, twenty, or thirty years old. Fashions captured in these images can be ghastly and comical. That’s because they are fashions. They are not style. You know who doesn’t look silly? Old Money Gals. Because they dress in the same style for decades, from generation to generation, from cradle to grave.

~ OLD MONEY SECRET ~ How a woman presents herself to the world will determine to a large extent how she is treated by the world and what results she gets from the world. Presentation includes preparation, comportment and manners, and clothing and grooming.

* * * * * * * * THE SHORT LIST If you are a college student, or just starting out in your career, you want to keep your style simple, economical, and classic. Here’s a Short List of the basics you can acquire in order to present yourself stylishly for decades:

1. White or sky blue long sleeve,100% cotton and linen blouses; 2. Solid color 100% cotton short sleeve pullovers; 3. Solid color pullover or cardigan sweaters,100% wool or 100% cotton; 4. 100% linen or cotton long pants and shorts in solid colors; 5. Grey, black, or navy 100% linen or wool/cashmere blend pants; 6. Grey, black, or navy 100% linen or 100% wool skirts; 7. A classic black dress, mid-length; 8. Black high heel shoes with a closed toe, for office or dress; 9. Navy or tan pumps with a chunk heel, for walking comfortably; 10. Topsiders, sandals, or loafers, for casual; 11. Wool socks and cotton socks and hose, neutral, blue or black; 12. Blue or black blazer; 13. Blue, black, or grey business suit of good quality; 14. Navy, grey, or camel tan full-length 100% wool coat for winter; 15. A ‘London Fog’ style trench coat for rain.

Ralph Lauren Polo, Brooks Brothers, LL Bean, and Lands’ End offer these items in a predictable range of quality and styles, and a wide variety of price points. Remember the Old Money Order of Things: Plan…well in advance. Earn…like a man. Save… consistently. Invest…strategically. Spend…wisely. Plan. Earn. Save. Invest. Spend. As you strategize to create or recreate your wardrobe, remember: you are investing in yourself. Invest in quality products in traditional styles because they stand the test of time. Keep these helpful hints in mind:

Take your time; let your style develop;

Remember and follow the ‘5% set aside’ rule;

Avoid logos, or keep them small and to a minimum;

Prioritize your purchasing: acquire items you will wear every day first;

In terms of quality/price, most of the time you will get what you pay for;

Look for items that wear well over time, both in terms of style and durability;

Shop at upscale vintage stores for great deals on high-quality, well-maintained, classic garments.

THE REAL THING A stunning, tasteful, original piece of jewelry is an accessory that enhances a woman’s natural beauty. Old Money Gals know that, and keep jewelry to a minimum. Follow their lead: keep the bling to a minimum. Make sure it is appropriate. A little goes a long way. Curate great pieces made with quality materials. Know that counterfeit jewelry or accessories are obvious to the refined eye and should be avoided. I feel very strongly about this for two reasons.

First, counterfeiting name brands is a criminal enterprise. It is lucrative. It is global. It is violent. And it victimizes not just the women who buy the fake items, but also the often abused women who work in hellish conditions for slave wages to produce the merchandise. So, considering this, you can decide if you want to participate in this blood-stained economy in order to impress the easily impressed.

Second, I will tell you that Old Money Gals have razor-sharp radar: they can spot a fake Louis Vuitton bag from across the street. Furthermore, Old Money Gals view the display of counterfeit merchandise as a desperate attempt to impress and as a willingness to deceive. Neither of these is appealing. Neither is tolerated. So, do not come crying to me when you have been dissed and dismissed for owning a piece of counterfeit merchandise.

In the words of the classic Motown hit…ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby. An authentic Patek Philippe, Cartier tank watch or stainless steel Rolex says much more than a gaudy display of diamonds or cubic zirconium. Again: Purchase genuine, quality pieces slowly over time. (Unlike counterfeits, they are a wise investment and will last a lifetime.) Extravagant rings, necklaces, and watches have their place. Still, even the most affluent women on the planet opt for discreet luxury when it comes to jewelry to wear on a daily basis.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

ooh ooh alleirat but fae? faerie courts, changelings and curses and blood oaths that burn in your veins like chains of silver

Hey listen…I’m in a lot of pain today and I was supposed to do this as headcanons and I super did not do that.  Also this is mostly the prequel to a longer story about Brenneth’s quest to win them their freedom.  Sorry dude, I just kinda got In My Feelings about this.

Their names aren’t Brenneth and Crispin yet.  But Brenneth and Crispin walk into the woods, ten years old, on a dare, with their coats inside out and crowns of rowan on their heads, while their classmates clap and chant at the treeline–a skipping game with consequences.  In roses red and briars green, a little girl in white was seen; went through the forest all alone, she’s never, ever coming home. The children laugh, at first, teasing as Crispin’s red hair vanishes.  Then there’s the real calling, the shouts into the dark trees and the thin tremor of voices that won’t admit they’re scared.

Then there’s sunset, and the police, and no sign of either of them–except the rowan crowns, lying one beside another at the foot of an oak tree at the heart of the forest.  Children taken by the Folk, they murmur together, and walk away.

Seven days later, it’s the full moon and the autumn equinox, and a woman of twenty is found unconscious on the edge of the trees, dressed in a fine shirt the deep orange-red of live embers and black trousers and a leather doublet out of an old story, embossed with oak leaves.  Her black curls are braided away from her face with a tender hand, and she lies on thick, soft chamomile with a scent so strong that the teenage girls who find her nearly fall asleep beside her.  The police are called again, to hover uncertainly around the sleeping figure until her eyes flicker open and she springs to her feet with the speed and grace of a startled cat.  An officer steps forward, hands out to calm her, and she closes with him so swiftly that he understands, watching her eyes glitter in the moonlight, how his ancestors must have felt when the Hunt rode by, with horns and bells ringing.

“Where is he?” she demands, catching the cop by his collar and shoving him against a tree with a strength that dazes him.

“Where is who?” he gasps, breathless. She looks fierce and wild and hungry and beautiful in her rage, and for a terrible moment the world gasps, airless in love with her, and the police and the teenagers and the gawkers all remember, suddenly, the stories that are told about humans who live long years with the Folk and come back just slightly too real for reality to bear.

“Crispin,” the woman says, and shakes him with the careless ease of a cat shaking a mouse in her teeth.  “Where is he?  He’s a singer, with red hair–mortal, like me. Why isn’t he here?”

The officer shakes his head, wordless, and says, “Who are you, ma’am?”

“I’m–Brenneth.  Ghadafi,” she says, setting him slowly down and stumbling back with a look of dawning horror in her black eyes.  “He–he didn’t come. He lied to me, he didn’t come.  He said he freed us both, and he–”

She presses a hand to her mouth and sinks to her knees on the chamomile, and the police look at each other over her head, and finally one of them says, “You had better call the Ghadafis and tell them we found their daughter.”

Brenneth’s parents arrive just in time to watch a police officer tackle her to the ground to keep her from running back into the trees.  Their daughter, who was ten years old seven days ago, looks right through them like they’re strangers, or ghosts, and refuses to leave the forest line until the sun rises.  They call her Brenda and she doesn’t answer them, and she snarls like a wild thing when her mother tries to take down her hair, but she lets them take her home, and Brenneth plans.  For four years, she doesn’t do anything else.

Everyone in their little town knows Brenneth, after a while–the un-changeling, the human girl who disappeared and came back something…else.  It has been much longer for Brenneth than for the rest of them, longer than seven days, longer than ten years, and she never smiles, never thanks anyone, never takes any of the precautions everyone else does.  She walks barefoot in the forest, and leaves iron and steel at home, and lingers over vernal pools and fairy rings longingly.  She’s too old and too young and too other and everyone who meets her is afraid of her–is afraid of what those unnaturally steady black eyes could ask them to do, and get a response.

Four years later, to the day, Brenneth walks to the oak in the heart of the forest and drives a steel cooking knife into the trunk to the hilt, and then she stands back and waits for the consequences.

“You have hurt the wood,” says a slow, lilting voice–a singer’s voice, smooth and articulate and with just a thread of warning.  

Brenneth turns.  Somehow, this seems right–seems like she should have known how this would be, who would come when she came to the end of her patience and hurt the Folk in order to find a door, who would be guarding this forest that swallowed her heart whole.  The being behind her looks fey and perfect in the moonlight, utterly and breakingly unlike anything that walks on asphalt under street lamps and among cars, unlike anything that wears a crown of rowan and an inside-out LL Bean coat, with waist-length coiling hair the perfect brilliant copper of a polished penny and dressed all in beautiful white.  The bones of his face are almost the same as when he lied to her, but sharper and colder.

This, then, Brenneth thinks, reaching out thoughtlessly to touch the ground-glass jaw with her fingertips, is what happens when a mortal swears life and soul to the Folk in return for another person’s freedom.  He’s not one of them, not quite.  He’s still as far from humanity as a wolf is from a sled dog.

Crispin stops her hand by catching her wrist before she can touch his face.  His fingers are as cold as ice. 

“Crispin,” Brenneth says, as if his grip isn’t pressing the bones of her arm together to the point of pain.  She’ll see the bruise later and wonder where she got it, press her thumb into the shadowed purple-blue and yelp in surprise at the pain.  “I found you.”

He blinks at her, and his eyes are wrong–the whites are gone, consumed whole by the honey of his irises and large, flashing pupils.  This is what proves to her that he’s real.  If he were an illusion, he would be perfectly himself, and perfectly hers, and he’s neither, not anymore.  For a moment, she wonders if he even recognizes her.

Crispin reaches out with his other hand, and the cold fingers touch her hair, her cheek, trace the lines of her nose and her cheekbone and her brow, until his palm settles against her jaw, his thumb on her lips, and she looks back fearlessly.

“Why did you come back?” Crispin asks.

“Why did you lie to me?” Brenneth replies, just as calm.

He blinks again, more slowly, and says, “I…had to save you.  They were determined to keep one of us.  I had to save you.  Why did you come back?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Brenneth says, ignoring him, and the hand on her face is beginning to shake, an utterly human fit of tremors.  “I looked everywhere.  All the right places. If I’d found anything, I wouldn’t have come, but you weren’t there.”  She takes a step, expecting him to hold her in place, but instead he falls back, as if she’s dangerous, his hands falling away from her arm and her face.  She takes another step, then another, and Crispin retreats from her until his back hits the wall.  “I knew that if I hurt the forest, someone would come to punish me–I just didn’t expect that it would be you.”

Crispin’s strange, honey-gold eyes are glittering and wet in the moonlight when she stops, and he whispers, “You shouldn’t have come.  You shouldn’t have–I have to punish you.  You used steel on the tree.  Why did you do that?”

“You’re right,” Brenneth says mercilessly.  “You do have to punish me.  Because you made a fool’s bargain for my freedom, when I didn’t even want it.  So.”  She steps back and holds out her wrists, held together like she’s waiting for shackles.  “I propose a trade.  You do your duty to the Folk and the forest, and instead of killing me, or striking me blind, or stitching my lips shut with gold, you take me back.”

“As a slave,” Crispin says dully, like someone watching his life’s work unravel.

“I’m going to do it right this time,” Brenneth says.  “Both of us will be free.”

“I can’t go back to the mortal world.”

“Neither could I.  Take my offer, or kill me, faerie.”

Crispin stares at her with those inhuman eyes, in that face more perfect than it is human, and Brenneth looks back and smiles for the first time in four years.

“Trust me,” she says.  “I’ve never lied to you.”

Crispin smiles faintly, lips twisting like he’s about to cry, at that, and closes his cold hands around her wrists.

[retropolitanllc]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Mens Size Medium LL Bean Brown Faux Suede Button Front Sherpa-Lined Coat.

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Zara High Rise Paperbag Corduroy Pants - Sage/Light Olive - S.

[fowardfashionfindz]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Women's Sailcloth Sweater Knit Fleece Hooded Coat.

[gr8female-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Ultralight 850 Jacket Womens L Down Hooded Coat Full Zip.

[butlersforge]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Khaki Full Length Hooded Trench Raincoat Size M.

[mommiessecret]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LL Bean Puffy Coat Pink Full Length Snap-on Hood PM Petite Medium Faux Fur.