the world according to sherimaven

Good morning, Monday. How art thou? I'll get right to it.

So this week we are moving to our new apartment just down the road from our current one. We had to flee a difficult situation in our lovely home (neighbors are fun), and now we are moving on. Considering it's Veteran's Day (thank you for your service), I thought I might relay a tale from this here veteran of New York City apartment life. It's a bit of a war zone. And in case you're not living in New York or never have, here' a little bit about how that all goes:

First, you realize you have to leave a lousy apartment situation and hope the landlord finds the feeling mutual. If so, you get out of your lease, which goes to 2021 and start the search. You cry day and night for two weeks because you so love the apartment you have and can't imagine life on any other block in Brooklyn. And those floors. Those floors are EVERYTHING. But you also can't imagine living in a toxic setting any longer, so leave you must.

Second, you start the search. Your goal is to move in December, but you want to start looking at the end of October. You toy with the idea of returning to Manhattan, but then stand entirely too close to a smarmy, French realtor in the tiniest elevator of all time and are shown an apartment that breaks your heart due to its squalor and your heart sinks. The 60s between 5th and Madison are clearly not in your cards. Plus, you have time for that. And that's just fine. Because you're a Brooklyn girl at this point, and there's nowhere else to go. But what about Greenpoint? Could you do Greenpoint?

Third, you realize you could not do Greenpoint, and you freak out because you must stay in Cobble Hill or Carroll Gardens. You see one apartment on the Columbia Waterfront that literally makes you laugh out loud. Though nicely renovated, the layout is insane. Two bedrooms on opposite ends of the apartment, the narrowest living room/kitchen you've ever seen, and zero closets. You ask the realtor how anyone with more than 3 tee shirts could live here, to which he replies, "people make it work." Not this person. Bye, Felicia.

Fourth, you can't stop thinking about that place in Fort Greene. The one with the pornographically beautiful kitchen, but the Murphy bed. Yes, that's right- a Murphy bed. When youmentioned a Murphy bed to your dear friend and hairdresser, she said: "what is this, Nolita in the '90s"? Point taken. And though the loftlike living space was beyond grand, there were again no closets. Like zero. Dear God. Where would your shoes go?

Fifth, you are officially in a demonically possessed state of apartment seeking obsession. Sleeping and eating are not really a thing. You have to find the perfect apartment. And then you do. Truly.

You see a listing on Streeteasy for a place in Carroll Gardens, in a three-story house that slightly resembles a mausoleum, which you like. Next door is a massive blow up Jack 'O Lantern, belonging to the "undertaka/funeral directa" who owns the building. He decorates for all the holidays. This is a beautiful sign for a wannabe Italian like yourself. 

Then you go into the building, which looks super grandma but kind of amazing. You enter the apartment and poof. You are home. Just like that. Because you're a Cancer, you just know what home is the second you see it and feel it. And this was home. It's spacious, light-filled, and quirky. It has a gorgeous view of lovely yards and brownstones. There is a second bedroom which becomes- wait for it- a closet. It's no Carrie Bradshaw situation, but it works for you. Plus you are now two blocks away from your barre studio, and a block away from the old Italian coffee place you secretly fantasize about making your office, so the old neighborhood guys can protect you over espressos should anyone be late paying an invoice.You realize Carroll Gardens may in fact be more your vibe than Cobble HIll. Sure, it's only a few blocks away but it feels different. A little more real and old school. And you can smell it and taste it and feel it and somehow you just KNOW. 

And now, the games really begin.

BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO HAVE THIS APARTMENT AND PLEASE CANCEL THE OPEN HOUSE AND DON'T SHOW IT ARE YOU GONNA SHOW IT WHO ELSE IS LOOKING AT IT HOW CAN I GET IT OK LET ME GET THREE MONTHS RENT IN A CASHIER'S CHECK AND FILL OUT THE APPLICATION THAT ASKS FOR EVERY DETAIL AND FIBER OF MY FINANCIAL WELL BEING EVEN THOUGH I'M RENTING AND NOT BUYING AND WHY AREN'T WE BUYING WE'RE THROWING MONEY AWAY WE'RE TIRED OF THROWING MONEY AWAY FUCK THIS OH WELL BUT THAT APARTMENT IS GREAT YOU GOTTA GET IT RUN TO THE BANK AND FILL OUT THE APPS AND HON SEND THAT DIGITAL TAX RETURN FROM 2016 PLEASE WOULD YOU? ALL INFO IN WAIT WAIT WAIT CREDIT CHECK EVERYTHING BLAH BLAH BLAH WHY IS IT STILL ON STREETEASY DID WE GET IT DID WE GET IT? WE GOT IT WE GOT IT RUN TO THE STARBUCKS ON MONTAGUE STREET AND SIGN THE LEASE WHILE YOUR DOG SITS OUTSIDE AND SHIVERS BECAUSE THEY WON'T LET HIM IN AND YOU SIT WITH HIM SHIVERING AND SIGN PAPERWORK AS THE SUN SETS AND HOLY SHIT THIS WAS A DAY HOW DID WE PULL THIS OFF AND YES WE ARE PAYING DOUBLE RENT TO MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY BUT NOW WE CAN MOVE IN GRADUALLY IN NOVEMBER...

And so it goes. One whole week of looking and a whole two week to prepare. Giddy the heck up.

Move in day is Thursday and I can't wait to decorate but need to slow my roll because I can't have everything at the same time and that irks me. But what I can have is some breathing space and peace and quiet and happiness. And then you can all come over for dinner. The seating is going to be so good. I just thought you might enjoy a little glimpse into how New Yorkers have to deal with stuff. Lest you think it's all gallery openings and bullshit. It's not. It's bullshit, alright. Just not of the kind you'd suspect. Part of me wants to quit what I'm doing and go back to law school and fight for renter's rights. It's all so gnarly, but somehow we survive and eventually thrive because we love this big, dumb town.

Cause that's what's up this New York story kind of a Monday in the 212. Yours, in veterans and security deposits. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. I'm moving next week to a sweet new pad and I'm excited. But I'm moving next week. And needless to say, it's a bit of a jangler.

But I'll tell you whats NOT a jangler. I know I'm a day late on this but OMG KEANU REEVES HAS AN AGE APPROPRIATE GIRLFRIEND.

Seriously everyone. Keanu's girlfriend is 46 and not 26. And at first glance she looked like Helen Mirren to me and to so many others. And then on second glance I saw that Keanu and his lady were normal. Doing their thing. Sharing musical interests and pop cultural references. She's exactly 9 years younger than him but of course it's celebrated that he's 55, but somehow SHOCKING he's dating someone over 45? And she looks her age. Imagine that.  Hollywood has not yet clutched her in its overly injected talons. Amazing. (She's a fine artist ps, not an actress so surely that helps).

But I can't play this dumb game anymore.

I am so tired of ageism. Sexism. All of the isms. What's worse is the fact that we're all gob smacked by the fact Keanu Reeves has a girlfriend who looks mature. The optics of it are admittedly atypical. But let's not get too hung up on that. Keanu's got a lady. And she's a lucky one at that. Because just when we thought Keanu couldn't get any cooler, he confronts us with one of the biggest issues facing my generation- aging. And he doesn't even mean to do it- he's just living his life. Love him. So much.

For many of my single female friends in their 40s, dating at this time of life is no picnic. Men fo this age group tend to date younger. And Lord Forbid you are pushing 45 and you don't have kids and try to date a man of your own age. You might as well have ten heads.

What I'm saying out there to all the menfolk- try and be more like Keanu. In every way. Isn't it time to grow up when it comes to what we consider sexy and compatible and all the things? I'm not anti dating any age you like, but there's something so fabulous about dating within your generation. If, like me, you were raised on a steady diet of pop culture and music, you need that common gravitas, non? That familiar parlance that keeps one sane. Even if you both like soup. ;) That's just not enough. Look at those two. Seriously. Does it get any cooler?

So I raise my Adidas corduroy bucket hat to Mr. Reeves. Again. He continues to prove that getting older is very sexy indeed. Cause that's what's up this wisened Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in showing my age. XO

Hello, my gorgeous friends. I've been absent here of late. A bit of a self imposed exile. Because life has been on the crazy train and I'm just trying to keep it all going. I'm sure you know the feeling. Never a dull moment and such.

But I felt Fall in the air for real this morning and a girl can't help but think of falling leaves and fashion. Well I'm always thinking about fashion but you already know that. 

Using my trend hat, I can tell you that there's one boot we'll be seeing all over the streets of my beloved New York as the temperatures drop. Made infamous on Bottega Venetta's Fall '19 runway (see above), the lugged sole Chelsea boot is going to run this town. I just know it. How you may ask? If I told you, you'd stop reading so I won't. But just call it a sixth sense.

Chances are, I'll be wearing some version of it too, most likely the Rachel Comey version because it's a slight riff on the trend and a way to still embrace the frenzy, but stay unique. Back in the day, we'd call a shoe like this a clodhopper. A shit kicker (we called Timberlands shit kickers actually). A bad ass boot. 

I have a long history with a boot of this ilk.

I used to wear Frye engineer and harnessed motorcycle boots back in the day. I will never forget buying a pair of black combat boots in Amsterdam in the 90s that made me feel like I ran the show. I wore those mofos into the ground, ps.

And though I've never been much of a Doc Marten girl, I did buy a pair of kiltie-ish combat boots two years ago that are my go to all weather jams. They look so cool with everything and they are so comfy I can't live without them.

Sure there's a Frankenstein vibe happening with a boot of this stature. Is it super feminine? No. But can you wear a boot like this with a floral dress and look obscenely sexy? Yup. And actually, I find a woman who has the confidence to wear  a strong boot like this sexy anyway. And that's my truth.

And at times like this when I want to kick primordial ass and run my own show, I'm a gonna get a pair of these on my feet sooner vs. later. Here are a few great options if you want to make like a bad mama and stomp your way through the season. After all, tough times call for tough shoes.

Here's a few I love:

NO. 6 CREPE SOLE BOOT IN PATENT - Always a huge fan of this brand's take on modern dressing. Infamous for their clogs, but this boot is a lovely and elevated take on the trend. Good stuff.

 BOTTEGA VENETA CHELSEA BOOT- Here she is. If you've got the dough, go.

 ASOS RADAR BOOT
Alternatively if you don't have the aforementioned dough, go.

DOC MARTENS LEONORE BOOT
For girls who love a good pair of Docs, slide into these. Mega bonus points for the shearling. Big fan of not wearing socks and just slipping these on to walk the dog, go to yoga, or you know, kick an ass.

 RACHEL COMEY PLANK BOOT
Here's my girl. I want you and I probably will have you. 

 ANN DEMEULEMEESTER CHUNKY BOOT

When it comes to outsized proportions, once you go Belgian, you'll never go back. They do a great job of taking something chunky and making it streamlined and chic. It's amazing.  Incidentally, there's an Ann D combat boot I wouldn't kick out of bed right here. But that's another kind of lover. Not quite a Chelsea ps, But a candidate for clodhopping anyway.

So there you have it. Will you go the butt kicking route this Fall or will you keep it quiet? I know what I'm doing, and guarantee you'll hear me stomping from about a mile away. I'm in that mood. Cause that's what's up this serious shoe of a Friday. Yours, in stepping through the BS in style. XO

MAVEN UPDATE: THESE DOC MARTENS. LOVE.

Good late morning, Tuesday. It's been a minute. And it's been a month. 

Without going into too much detail, we're moving into a new apartment and it's been a bit cuckoo.I'll update later on that.

Because with so much weird stuff happening in the world, it's hard not to feel just a little bit confused by it all. Here's a few things confounding me at present. A bit of comic relief from a nerve jangling October? Sure. Here you go.

I just don't get:

Poke. Full disclosure- there was a brief moment when I was team Poke Bowl. And now I feel ashamed but somehow better admitting that. But I digress. Because Poke bowls are probably only good in their homeland, Hawaii. In midtown Manhattan, they are gross. Fish chunks. Nah. Too many weird textures in a poke bowl. I can't. And you literally can't walk a block in New York at this point without seeing a new poke place pop up. Poke joints are the Gap stores of our times. Make it stop.

Paul Rudd. I adored his new show on Netflix "Living with Yourself" where he plays himself and his clone. Yes. His clone. But here's the thing with Paul Rudd. As a straight woman, I'm not sure how to feel about him. I mean- he's good looking sure enough. But he's such a man child. There's a scene where he's in his underwear and I found myself looking away.And why doesn't he age? And how is he 5'10"? He seems so much shorter. Slighter. Boyish. And he's also worth 70 milli. And Jewish on both sides? OMG. Paul Rudd confuses me. I find him cringy and divine all at once. He's a dork but somehow sexy? I don't know. I don't know. I don't get him. Or I don't get how to feel about him.

Halloween hoo ha. Yea i know I love Khanoween (I got my sweet little Khan dog on October 31 ten whole years ago) but Halloween? Meh. Last night as i was coming out of an office building in the Flatiron some people promoting a costume shop were standing on the street scaring people. I didn't care for it. Not in this day and age. Our country is ghoulish enough, thank you very much.

Curved trousers. What is this look and how is it happening and who does it look good on? And why do I want to get this but can't quite get it? So odd. Intriguing though I must admit. I'm seeing it everywhere ps.

Kanye West. I love the Sunday service. I love the light installation/beam me up Jesus thing. But you know what I hate? A false prophet. And Kanye West is a false prophet. I don't get him. He is so talented but a complete lunatic. 

I'm quite certain there are many other things that need to be on this list. But I have to take off my Negative Nancy hat and put on my Positive Polly one. I just wanted to share some things that were making me feel bonkers this morning. Cause that's what's up this irksome Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in turning into Andy Rooney and being cool with it. If you don't know who that is...well. XO

Good morning, Monday. Had a lovely weekend in Denver visiting my niece and seeing some dear friends from Boulder. I'm surprised by how much I connected to the city- had been there before and never felt a "there" there but it's Fall and it's a lovely time to be in the mountains and I found the city overwhelmingly cozy, progressive, and charming.  As I walked around and wandered through different parts of town,  I started thinking what I inevitably think whenever I visit a place- could I live here?

I can't be the only one who does this. And as a New Yorker, you're well aware there's life outside your concrete solar system. But as a New Yorker, I suffer from what many of my fellow city dwellers face- and I'll call that FOLE. For the unfamiliar, that's Fear of Living Elsewhere. And it's real. For some reason, leaving New York seems daunting beyond belief.

I admit the thought of leaving New York is a scary one. But lately I've been getting that weird feeling- where my feet are dragging and I feel more depleted than energized by this amazing city. It happens every five years or so. I find myself annoyed by everything and everyone. Every siren, every crazy person running around in a plastic fireman's hat and screaming at people, and every everything about living here. I used to feel like leaving New York would be a stinging and resolute mark of my failure to succeed. But now? Hmm.

Because when you go to a city like Denver, where people seem genuinely stoked to be alive, you can't help but think about how different life could be. And that's the scariest part I suppose. Because it's the rule of weekends. Meaning- anyone or anything is wonderful for a weekend. You can fall in love just like THAT, but staying in love is the challenge. And that's the truth. Because even though I love all of those awesome midcentury houses in Denver, that dry air made my nose hurt. And those mountains are magnificent, but no ocean? Oh, and the very noticeable lack of diversity. Not to mention all that fleece. 

As I got off the plane and sat in choking traffic on the LIE, I felt tired. It's hard staying in love with New York sometimes. It's work. And I never, ever wanted to live anywhere else and I still don't.  But as I'm getting older and my priorities are shifting somewhat, I can't help but think about a weekend lover like Denver on a Monday morning. Could I be in it for the long haul? Or do I really only have one true love when it comes to where I live? It's funny- living somewhere else feels like cheating. That's how I felt the whole time in Miami. And it never felt right. Add that to the morbid fear I have around leaving New York, which somehow has become less of a place to live and more of an all consuming identity. 

It'll be interesting to see where the next few years take me- it's said that every 7 years your cells regenerate. I'm in one of those cycles now and it does feel like change is in the air, I'm just not entirely sure how it manifests. For now, I'll stay true to my number one city. But damn if it wasn't tough to get out of bed today and face another day of midtown meshugas. 

PS here's a few things I dug about Denver, even though I was there for such a short amount of time. Check 'em out:

This whole Dairy Block area in downtown Denver was super cool.  Loved the vibe and all the great food options- plus stores at experimental retail collective Free Market  like Jenni Kayne and Clare Vivier to round out the experience. I think the tech influx in Denver has made it much more fashion forward. That's a big shift from the last time I was there.

I love LOVE this consignment store, Common Threads. I found it in the Wash Park area (such a cute neighborhood). They've got super high end, designer things for fairly good prices. I guess those aforementioned tech types wear things once and then consign. Win win for the rest of us. I scored a fabulous pair of suede sandals to wear with my new collection of sparkly socks- and bonus- they were never worn.

The Hilltop neighborhood is full of incredible midcentury homes mixed in with mega mansions- art director's dream places everywhere. Very expensive but amazingly cool homes. Stunning truly.

The whole South Broadway area is a fun, grungy way to spend a day. I love all the record stores and all the vintage shopping. It's Denver's answer to the East Village of yesteryear.  Dug the vibe at Mutiny Information Cafe- a bit of a mixed bag of record shop, hangout, pinball arcade. It spoke deeply to my Gen X soul for its pop culture realness. 

Had an excellent meal at local haunt, Spuntino. The service was on point (though the cocktail service was slowwww), and the food was fresh, delicious, and of the highest quality. Lovely local spot- emphasis on Italian cuisine with experimental apps like Elk tartare (delicious). 

And it goes without saying that the cannabis industry is making things pretty interesting. I'm not opposed as you know (at all) and find the whole thing really, really cool. Different frequencies are good. Particularly in these times when you struggle to feel dialed in. And in a mountain setting where you can be outside? Not a bad hang. Not bad at all. Plus, it's so very entrepreneurial and new. It feels fresh and vital and exciting, truly.

So yea, I'm still here and not going anywhere right this very second. But I need to take more weekend lovers and find out if anything could stick- perhaps there's life beyond New York. Jeez. I get anxiety just saying that. 

Cause that's what's up this exploratory Monday back in the city. Yours, in rocky mountain highs and quick love affairs. XO

Good morning, Tuesday. Quel gloomy in New York and appears to be that way for the next several days so meh. But if you're a fan of gloomy gorgeousness, you have to see the provocative and beautiful documentary "See Know Evil" about Davide Sorrenti, who tragically died young and was a prolific artist and photographer in his short and rather infamous life.

So a bit of history for those of you not indoctrinated in the vibes of 90s New York City- it was a very special time, I moved to New York in 1993 and felt the buzz of art, fashion, hip hop, street culture. It was vital and exciting and a little bit fucked up and dark. There was so much happening downtown you almost couldn't believe the creativity you were exposed to on a daily basis. It was like going into another world, the kind of world you always wanted to be in in as you came of age but couldn't access back home.  It was the 90s that came out of growing up studying Nan Goldin photos and early Details Magazine, a backlash to 80s excess, and a response to Kurt Cobain's call to entertain us. 

I fell hard for the art and fashion and music of the 90s. I loved Portishead, Brit Pop, Massive Attack, all of that phenomenal hip hop. And we know how great the fashion was- not necessarily the Raver lane but more the minimalist, sexy, unfortunately termed heroin chic trip. When you look at Davide's photography and watch an entire documentary about his life, you'll see how his work and time on Earth had that Roman candle quality that so many lives of artist have. They burn bright, and then fade away.

Looking at these photos gives me so much inspiration- the color, the patina, the quiet seductiveness. I love the styling too- there's a real elegance there I no longer see, and even though these kids were little street rats, they had so much style. I miss that level of
on point-atude. How can you not? I can remember very specifically how many beautiful people were in the city back then. My type of beautiful anyway. A little ragged, jagged, and raw. With that casual lank best accompanied by a Camel Light and a Heineken.

In any event, the 90s are back in a big way- fetishized by all the young people moving to a city that is no longer affordable (it wasn't then either but more so now) and lacking in that gritty grime of yesteryear. What I found so interesting about the documentary was his mom's explanation of the whole "heroin chic" moment and how Davide became a scapegoat for the whole movement. It's true he had a disease that most likely killed him, but he also was on heroin at the time, like so many of those mini Baudelairians running around Manhattan back then. If art is about documenting what's happening, I'm not sure you can blame a photographer for capturing it. As for the fashion industry, I'm not sure it's ever been their responsibility to not seize upon a moment in pop culture, but as we know since that whole backlash, the fashion business and particularly runways and magazines changed considerably. 

Regardless, these pictures are achingly beautiful. And they make me remember why I love photography  so much in the first place.  Crank up the Portishead and enjoy the rain. Have a 90s moment. Go ahead. I'm doing it too.

Cause that's what's up this trip hop of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in pretty pictures. XO

Good day Thursday. Oh and hey Fall. It seems you have finally arrived. And not a moment too soon. The gals in this town were starting to feel a bit robbed of their Fall frockery. I for one am kind of done with sandals and short sleeves. Bring on the sweaters and the boots. I'm craving some coverage, et tu?

So I don't know what's going on with my new favorite store, but truly- it's good. Very, very good. I discovered Frankie, who has shops in both Paris and New York, on a jaunt downtown a while ago, but for some reason like their website even more than their in store experience. There are so many great things here- they are not super cheap but they are also not obscenely expensive. If you want to step away from fast fashion but aren't quite ready for Celine, this is a good place to go. Chic as all get out too.

And one of their best offers right now is a gorgeous selection of jackets. Fall dressing is not complete without an assortment of awesome outerwear. I love just about everything they have and though my heart sank when this waxed trench showed up as unavailable. Merde.

But these other pieces are so money.  Sophisticated, chic, effortless. Easygoing clothes for our favorite time of year. 

This shacket (shirt jacket don't think I'm shouting out Steve Bannon. Remember him? Oy) is quite the thing right now- seeing tons of this silhouette in leather and just about every other material. Fabulous over just about everything and wonderfully versatile and layer worthy.

This blazer though. I had to have it. I am a big fan of brown. Probably the best color on me out there. I know. The color of poo. But it looks good on me and that's the truth so I tend to grab brown looks when I see them. This jacket is so chic with black pants as shown and a peek of a white shirt. I love how they belted it too but I'd most likely wear it more rumpled and unstructured. Gorgeous. Blazers are having a real moment this Fall, particularly of the houndstooth and Glen plaid varietal but I love the simplicity of this wonderfully basic piece. I'll wear it the same way I'd wear a black tuxedo jacket. Incidentally see below.

Right?

Bu this look here may be my fav of all. What is not to love about how chill this look is? Slouchy, cool, tomboy. All the things I want and desire. Gimme. 

Have a cruise around this spectacular site. I'm sorry not sorry for sharing. Cause that's what's up this light layer of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in Autumnal style and outerwear crushes. XO

Good morning, Tuesday.

It's starting to feel like Fall although tomorrow it's 90 and then back to 50 so who even knows what's going on. OK, I do. What's going on is a whole lotta leather for Fall (and judging from the Spring 2020 runways in Paris, the trend will continue into next year). Leather jumpsuits. Leather skirts. Leather dresses. Leather shirts. And if you don't wanna wear real leather, there's plenty of fabulous vegan options out there too. One thing's for sure- leather is having a bonafide moment this season. And let me tell you, I love it. I am such a fan- leather is sexy, rock and roll, completely cool at any time. Slinking around in leather pants might be one of my favorite cold weather past times but that's just me.  Oh and I'm gonna show you looks that are BLACK. Because that's what's up. There's nothing better. Look at a young Francoise Hardy above. Chic forever and ever.

Take this faux leather overshirt thing is fab from Zara. Wear it with jeans or thick black tights and high heeled boots and instant awesome ensues.

This leather midi skirt means business during the day, and can be vamped up for night. I love the button up front, and would wear this with everything from a slim ribbed sweater to a denim shirt to oh, I don't know- everything.

Oh and if you're feeling sassy, this faux leather jumpsuit may do the trick. I love this. I'd wear it EVERYWHERE. With sneakers, with heels, all of it. Everything. Love.

Black patent jeans? Ya. I love 'em. So exceptional with a black blazer and a tank. Very hot. Sure you best be fit to wear these, so if you can, do. I'll support you.

This faux leather slip dress is cute with a turtleneck underneath and some Gazelles. 

And if you're not yet convinced that leather is magical, I give you the McQueen show from Paris yesterday. I can't. I can. I want it all. How amazing are these pieces?

Loving on some leather this season and beyond. Classic rock and roll cool for all. Cause that's what's up this slithery Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in buttery goodness. XO

Good morning, Wednesday.

Remember that post I wrote at the end of NYFW about how fashion is changing and it's no longer about the clothes, at least on the New York runways? Well Paris proved me right, because I mentioned that the European shows are still very much about the clothes, and yesterday's Saint Laurent show stands out in my mind as a tribute to women who STILL LOVE CLOTHES.

I still love clothes. I most likely always will. And though I'm trying to be more of a discerning (aka less) shopper, when I see a runway show like this, I feel my pulse quicken. Because these are heart thumping, fashion is still alive gorgeous clothes.

These are clothes for women that understand a YSL Ballet Russes reference.  These are clothes for women that look at Stella Tennant in a sequined le smoking and say "oui". Out loud. in earshot of other and not caring at all.  Also, to stage a show at the foot of the Eiffel Tower and close it with Naomi. I can't. But yes. Yes I can.

These are clothes for women to aspire to- of all age- because they contain an ageless sex appeal. I'm not going to pretend these clothes are for women of all sizes, because they're not. But women of all sizes can channel the vibe of these pieces. Every woman can rock a tux or a beautiful printed peasant dress with boots. Or something metallic. Oui. And oui again. A resounding oui.

And though I've never been an Anthony Vaccarello fan, this collection is dynamite. His clothes were always a wee too tight and too short for my tastes, but he's giving Saint Laurent the love it needs, the homage it's earned, and the legacy it deserves. I'm obsessed. And every single piece of this collection will be knocked off in Zara, so look out for that. In fact, I got the gold boot that looks to be a very direct descendant of the ones on the runway yesterday. Go me. I would show them to you but they're now unavailable and don't want to achy break your heart.

I love fashion and I love to have fun with it. It's in my DNA and that's the truth and sure it's frivolous and not the most important thing on Earth, but it gives me so much joy. Have a look and tell me what you think. It's not earth shattering in terms of inventiveness, but darn if most women I know wouldn't love to own just about everything on this runway. It has everything a woman could want- pretty dresses, sparkly stuff, all black everything. All hail the rock and roll gypsy. All hail the androgyne. All hail Saint Laurent with the serious 70s vibes. I'm a believer, baby. All day.

PS the hair. The hair is so good. Just how I like it. Rock and roll chop chop. Oui.

Cause that's what's up this fashion forward Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in French kisses. XO

Good almost afternoon, Thursday. There's a chill in the air, and my jazz-filled taxi ride uptown today gave me a sweet moment of pause. I do so love the Fall. It's my favorite.

But yea, about that headline up there.

I feel like I'm 25 again, but not in the way you're thinking. Lately, there's been a lot of stress-provoking challenges around me- nothing life-threatening in any way, so don't worry. Just things that make you think about how you navigate change when you're faced with it, and how toxic situations can really do a number on you. 

When I was in my 20s, I'm not ashamed to say I suffered from a tremendous amount of anxiety. I was living in New York and working really hard but incredibly scattered. If you've ever suffered from anxiety, you know how it is- everything feels daunting and freaky, and your nerve endings are firing and frayed. I feel those feelings creeping up on me again, but as someone who is almost 25 x 2, I feel more equipped to handle them. How much of the anxiety is PMS/hormonal? Some. That absolutely gets worse as you get older, I'm not gonna lie. But right now there's some stuff I need to handle that feels toxic, like if you were handling toxic chemicals but didn't know how to touch them. I'm getting there, and though I know the feeling is situational, it still kind of sucks. 

For the past few months, I've been feeling absolutely fabulous. Truly. There's blips and blops when I lack the luster but for the most part, so good. And then a few weeks ago after I got robbed I started feeling not so fabulous. It wasn't about the stuff per se, it just caused a lot of primordial yuck in my life and made me really uncomfortable. As a proud Cancerian crab lady, my home is my sanity and my sanctuary. So that all felt awful and started overshadowing all the good stuff that was happening. And then just like that- I'm a 20something angsty woman trapped in an almost 50something grown-up body. Weird, right?

My point is- I've been so relieved in this thing called life to get to feel as healthy and happy and confident as I do, even though as a woman I'm told my value is declining as I age by society. There is no way you could pay me to go back to my 20s. Or even my 30s. I'm so damn happy to be where I am that when something fucks with that, I don't like it. At all. PS- I can hear some of my more stoic friends muttering under their breath as they're reading this saying "yea, but that's life." Yea. No kidding.

But anxiety is not a state I want to live in. I'm feeling a great need for some softness. The difference between anxiety then and anxiety now is I think I'm better situated to cope and also know what I need. And right now a little warm and fuzzy with all the sharp angles would be just ducky. Truly. 

This morning as I was dropping off Khan's breakfast because I screwed up the days I would be boarding him (another anxiety-producing moment), I saw an older man throwing up on the street, which, let's be honest, is pretty gross. But so many people walked by him, and not one asked him if he was ok. He was crouched down by the garbage on the street, and I locked eyes with him and asked him if he needed some help. He told me he would be fine and suffers from acid reflux, and he "never knows when it's going to happen like this." Poor guy. I felt for him. I usually would feel sick to my stomach watching someone puke in public, but something about the tough few weeks I had made me want to be compassionate to someone else. It made me feel better to ask. Because at that moment, even though I was stressed trying to get my dog his breakfast, this guy was in much worse shape than me.

Like my friend with the reflux, nobody knows what's coming. That's the fun of life and the scary part, too. It's essential to feel all the feels, though. This much I know. And I find that actually talking about this stuff with other people helps (imagine that). I really used to be a girl who liked to keep it all in. I didn't want people to see my vulnerabilities because I was so busy trying to be tough. Right now, I'm a little raw. And I'm good with that. I'm eternally grateful for moments that make me remember that everything is going to be ok. Like jazz-filled cab rides at 7 am up Sixth Avenue. Or early morning chats with a friend and coworker about whether Murphy beds are appropriate at this stage in the game (I don't think they are, or at least not for me). Or simple things like little Khan letting me spoon him when I can't sleep. 

I'll be honest- I'm a woman who fears change. It seems counter to who I am, but I genuinely do, and I've talked about it here many times. It's not so much the change itself, it's more the anxiety around the who, what, why, when, and how. That'll do me in if I let it. But for now, as I sit here sharing this with all of you, I'm feeling ok. I'm not gonna let that 25-year-old back into my head. I'm grown enough to know that everything is generally solvable. I just felt the need to connect with you all here as I've been busy working and haven't had a lot of time to write my own stuff of late. Look for a retool of this blog coming very soon- on a bit of a delay, but it's a change I'm actually excited about.

Cause that's what's up this I'm ok, you're ok kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in bigger, better, and onward. XO