Carol’s Closet: Clothing for Adult Women – The New Yorker

It’s summer! Time to fill your commemorative World Wildlife Fund cup
with some iced rooibos chai and peruse the new collection from Carol’s
Closet, your source for clothing that’s slightly hipper than Hillary
Clinton’s but not quite as racy as Michelle Obama’s and, in any case,
won’t make you look like your neighbor Elaine, who is really going
through something since the divorce, poor thing.

The College-Visit Trouser

Slip on these flattering lightweight wool trousers for your visit to
Oberlin with Nathan. Their luxurious palazzo-style drape says, “Of course
we can afford the tuition,” while their sturdy construction gives you
the fortitude to steer your youngest child away from the sex-positive
anarchist commune and toward the music conservatory.
In Sand Dollar,
Gooseberry, or Eleanor Roosevelt beige.

The 8 P.M. Cardigan

Settle into this amply proportioned, reliably cozy wrap-style sweater
for a nostalgic evening spent watching Jon Stewart clips from Obama’s
first term and enjoying the leftover quiche from Nancy’s daughter’s baby
shower, paired with a glass of that really nice twelve-dollar Pinot
Grigio. Or tighten the belt and throw on a chunky necklace for a look
that says, “The trial separation was my idea.”
In Pottery, Marin Sunset, or Funky Persimmon.

The Bushwick Sheath Dress

When Katie’s budding art practice takes her to Brooklyn’s gritty
frontier (while Ted and Carolyn never fail to remind you that their children are both thriving in their medical residencies), you’ll turn
to this dress. Zip it on and let the figure-flattering seams support you
while you endure an evening of performance art about menstruation from
the twenty-seven-year-old who called you Mommy until last fall, when she
began addressing you as Carol, a choice she still refuses to
explain.
In Dill, Place Mat, or Change-of-Life Fuchsia.

The I’m-Over-It Swimsuit

Slip into this unfussy tank suit and relish the deep satisfaction of
knowing that you’ve finally made peace with your physical form. Pair with oversized sunglasses for a touch of glam, and chuckle
knowingly at the skittish twentysomethings on the other side of the
pool struggling to look relaxed while sucking in their stomachs and
never laying their legs out flat.
In Helen Mirren Red, Lauren Hutton Navy, or Jane Fonda Gold.

The Rise-to-the-Occasion Blazer

Maybe you’ve been telling your children about the pre-Roe era since
they were in the sixth grade, but they’ve just started listening.
Maybe you recently saw your neighbor desperately trying to scrape a Gary
Johnson bumper sticker off her Camry. Whatever your motivation, the
world needs you now. Slip on this sharply tailored jacket and start
plotting your city-council campaign, send flowers to Maxine Waters, or
write a check to the A.C.L.U. We know—you thought you were going to
spend the next decade finally watching “Grey’s Anatomy” and making
beaded earrings. Turns out a woman’s work is never done. In Jesus Christ,
We’re Still Protesting This? Periwinkle, Heavy-Sigh Fuchsia, and Fuck-You Coral.

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