Old dogs and some new tricks

Good morning, Wednesday. I'm hanging out waiting to get briefed on a new project but here's something to chew on.

Yesterday I lied about my dog's age. To a total stranger. I have no idea why I did it, but I said he was six and he's more like nine or ten. Perhaps I want him to be forever young and never leave my side (absolutely). Or maybe I wanted to make myself appear younger by having a younger dog (probably not). In any event, I lied about my dog's age (pic above), and it threw me a bit, which got me thinking about what it means to feel your age and this whole thing about telling everyone your age.

First up- what does "feeling your age" even mean?

I feel many things in life. Ranging from fear to sadness to happiness and back again. But do I feel my age? Don't know what that means. Mostly because I have never been this age, so how would I know how it feels? I can say I don't feel old in my mind or my spirit or my style. As for my body, sure. There are wears and tears. There are days when my knees hurt and days when I wish I looked better in my jumpsuit. But for the most part, I don't feel my age. Because mostly, I feel like myself. Sure, there are situations where I may feel like I've been in the oven for too long. One of those is working in ad agencies, so I put a stop to that. Another is participating in a lot of nightlife activities.  I tend to avoid situations that make me feel old. Or at least the negative connotation of whatever that means. Silly as it seems. 

Also, I don't have children of the human variety. And I have always felt this kept me feeling young. But people with kids stay young through them, of this I'm sure. For instance, do you know who Lil Nas X is? Not Nas Nas, mind you. Lil Nas X. Yea, me neither. But if you have kids, you know who he is. Because he's got one of the most popular songs in the country with "Old Town Road." And he was on the Today show, featured in a story on how he surprised a classroom of adoring children who knew every word. I had never, ever heard of him. But a friend on Instagram posted about it and said how much his young son loved him. So there's a ding. As a childless person, my access to Top 40 tuneage is slim to none. Needless to say, "OTR" never made it to my Discover Weekly.

Second- this whole admitting your age thing. I'm cool with it. But I don't think it's for everyone. You can all figure out how old I am. It's not a secret. But if age is just a number, why this urge to shout it from the rooftops? Yea, I know. Because age is only a number. For me, I look at my age as a context for the life I live, the references that make me laugh and cry, and the lens with which I see the world. And I don't lie about my age. I don't necessarily feel the need to say it to anyone and everyone. But I did lie about Khan's age yesterday.

For no reason other than I love him more than anything. I remember a woman I knew in the neighborhood who was a screenwriter with a sweet little dog called Norman. We'd often see each other in the park, surrounded by nannies and stay at home dads and then there we were- two chicks in black with little dogs we loved like our blood. Norman appeared to be quite geriatric, a wizened old gent with a similar disposition to my Khan- tolerant but not enamored with other members of dogkind, and a bit of a charming curmudgeon. Smitten with his owner. I once asked my friend how old Norm was, to which she replied, "Four and a half."  Alrighty then.

At the time, it gave me pause. But now I get it; I get it. Because my pal just wanted her fur baby to be around forever too. I haven't seen her or Norman in some time, and rumor has it she left the neighborhood in search of cheaper accommodations. I hope dear sweet Norman is happily ensconced in a new nabe and ignoring other dogs as his mom talks to other dog owners in a new, leafy setting.

I just wanted to throw down with all of that today.  The big takeaway? I'll lie about Khan's age because I love him and I won't lie about my own because I love me too.  But if you ask me my age or feel a burning need to know, whatever. It's my choice to share the number, or not. 

Cause that's what's up this age is not a thing, but it's a thing kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in old dogs, pop songs, and keeping it real when it comes to the feels. XO





The murky waters of Barney's beauty floor: Take heed

Good morning, Tuesday. It's ridiculously beautiful outside, and I hope to take K for a nice long walk today in between editing a deck and finishing a proposal. LIfe is all about balance, mainly when it's perfect outside.

So last week I went to see the Camp show at the Met with a friend, and it was just lovely. The theme is a bit mamby pamby, but that's ok. I loved all the frou-frou and felt it was a nice break from the endless news cycle and craziness. Pure fun in the form of pink tulle. I'll take it.

And after the show, we enjoyed a cocktail on the Met rooftop (such a lovely experience, highly recommend), and then walked on Madison to window shop and people watch. We inevitably ended up at Barney's, which felt a bit like Filene's Basement. It seemed as if everything was on sale, and it's just about a week or so past Memorial Day. Crazy.

But despite the bargain basement vibe, the air of desperation was nowhere more apparent than at the beauty counters. I'm not sure if you've ever shopped for makeup or skin care at Barney's, but it's intense.  On the one hand, the woman at the Chanel counter pretty much ignored us as we searched for seasonal eyeshadow, but everyone else in the area honed in on us as if we were fresh meat. And the sharks seemed very, very hungry.

One woman came up to me to fixate on a crystal necklace I was wearing. Like, literally got in my face to inquire about its powers and then pitch me on some lipstick. And then the gentleman operating the MDNA skincare counter (Madonna's line) seemed to think it was perfectly ok to slather my hand with some sort of black goo that took "just over five minutes to dry." Who wants to engage in banter with a stranger trying to sell you insanely expensive stuff for five minutes? Not me. I will say the way he removed the mask/goo was cool- some sort of vacuum tool that sucked it all up yet somehow left a layer of serum that did make my hand look nice. I didn't purchase any of Madge's skincare. Her face scares me beyond belief. 

And though we almost made it out of there with our credit card balances intact, I happened to walk over to the YSL counter, and then's when the circling sharks came in for the kill. I admire the hustle as much as the next victim, but there's hustle and then there's harassment. My experience was a bit of the latter. 

Out of nowhere came a woman who told me my skin was very much in need of tightening and lifting. Listen up. I know a few things. I know my good points and bad points. And one of my very good points is my skin. It's nice. It's not saggy. It's something I'm lucky to have inherited from my mother. So when this Jaws in red lipstick and a lousy wig started slathering creams on me, I felt violated. And age shamed. And yes, the serum she put on me felt nice and looked nice. But for 350 dollars, I was not taking the bait. No way.

And as lipstick shark was slathering and shaming, the more chill shark at the YSL counter was putting concealer on me, and then finally, the new tinted moisturizer I came to see in the first place, first spotted on a pal at a photoshoot. I don't know if it was the serum that was so pretty or if the moisturizer was a hit, but my skin looked fresh. So I purchased the moisturizer, and then also purchased the two Armani eye products he recommended, which I love. Links here and here. That corrector is magic.  Oh, and I even got this primer. It's beautiful and fits the profile when it comes to getting after that glow, yo.  

So if you ever go to the beauty floor of Barney's, my suggestion is to look straight ahead and don't make eye contact. Once you do, game over. If you don't want to be bothered, that is. It's like they can smell a bit of insecurity, the need for something new, or the whiff of someone who may be on the market for one thing, but will end up seduced by product overload and walk out with more than they bargained for.

Cause that's what' up this beautiful Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in swimming with sharks and expensive adventures. XO

Maven pick: Happy Nature's sustainable, well priced boho chic

Good morning, Wednesday. It's so gloomy out. Gah. I can't get motivated and feeling less than inspired the past few weeks when it comes to posting but it always makes me feel so great to put stuff out there, and last night during an Insta scroll I found a promo for Kate Hudson's new sustainable clothing line, Happy Nature. Not to fear, this isn't Fabletics. It's so much better.

Because if you're like me, going boho in the Summer time is standard fare.  And this collection is great for gals who love their Ulla Johnson  or Doen but don't love the price points. And bonus- first purchases over 100 bucks are 30 percent off and everything is completely responsibly and ethically made.  Here's a look at some of the pieces- so cute right? I"m a big maxi dress fan when it feels hippieish and chic like these.

These minidresses are wearable all summer long with flat sandals. Adore.

Love a flowy white top in the summer time to wear with everything. These are great. Look at Jane Birkin at the top of this post for inspo. So chic.

This top may be my favorite of all- so beautiful with jeans or even with black shorts. Pretty, non?

I got the two maxi dresses at the top of the post but now seriously thinking about those minidresses above. What to do?  See now I'm inspired again. ;)

Cause that's what's up this Summer is here let's dress up kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in letting it flow. XO




When fashion attacks

Good morning, Tuesday. I hope you had a lovely long weekend. Mine was jaunty and kind of cute. Discovered some cuteness in Bucks County, PA. Wondering if it's an alternative to upstate somehow? Will need to investigate further.

So Memorial Day weekend style is casual and cool and of course, Summery. But somehow the Biebers didn't get the memo and decided it was chic to dress like hipitty hoppity Oompa Loompas while shopping in Beverly HIlls. I'm not a belieber. Not at all. What is this? Why is this? Somebody explain this to me. There needs to be a memorial for these outfits. Stat. I mean, he looks marginally better than her, but she looks absolutely ridiculous.

I don't know why I'm sharing this with you. I just thought you should see it and never, ever use it for inspiration. 

Cause that's what's up this post holiday Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in weird lewks and too much money/time/who knows what. XO

Spotted on the streets of New York: The Skirt of the Summer

Good morning, Thursday. It's gloomy outside and I'm happy for indoor activities today.

So last night I was hanging with a few pals who are helping me redo my site and blog (exciting) while having a few laughs over Thai food. One of them mentioned a trend she's been seeing in Soho, and I couldn't believe it- because I was literally going to write this here post today about the very same. Patterns are everywhere. You just need to keep your eyes open.

And since I like to tell you what's trending on the streets of New York when it comes to style, allow me to present the silk leopard midi skirt in all of its girl power glory. Because it seems like every NY woman is wearing some version of this skirt- with sneakers, with kitten heels and with just about everything. Last week at The Wing I saw at least three women rocking it, and if you walk around Soho on a sunny afternoon you can literally lose count of how many versions of it you'll see.  It started last summer with this skirt from Realisation Par, an is now ubiquitous in New York style circles. Incidentally, my new friend started an Instagram account in real time last night to address this little trend .

I will admit it's a versatile little number. 

It nods to the 90s which I love (slip skirts so my jam) and works well with a tank top and kitten heels, or with a tucked in button down and ballet flats. It's great with a light sweater or sweatshirt and sneakers too. It's a great little piece you can either dress up or dress down.

Here's some versions of it I found online so you too can look like a New York type of chick-a-dee.

This one from Faiithfull is well priced and cute.

Love the a line silhouette of all of these, but the Ganni version of this trendy piece is particularly flattering and versatile on many body types.

Of course millennial fav Reformation is doing a version, theirs in georgette.  I prefer the silk personally to give it that real lingerie feel. 

This version in jersey looks comfy as f. I want it.

And this one from Icons is probably my fav- love the lace detailing for a bit of sex appeal. Fab. 

And of course, the original, here. The one that started it all. For all you purists out there. I recommend wearing it with a shirt, but that's just me.

So there you have it. Leopard midi skirt. One and done. Get to it.


Cause that's what's up this seen on the streets kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in I live here so you don't have to. XO



Remembering Biggie and New York in the 90s.

Good morning, Tuesday. It's way more my tempo outside with the cooler temps. I'm a fan. Too soon yesterday with all that heat and humidity. Too soon.

So today would be the Notorious B.I.G.'s 47th birthday. I guess I never realized he was one of mine when it came to demographics but I guess he was. I do know that when his album "Ready to Die" came out the year I moved here, I found myself unable to stop listening to it. It was so hard yet so catchy. I fell in love with Biggie as did everyone living in New York and everywhere at that time. And hip hop was a big part of my life back then. I can't think back to my early days in New York without it.

Back in the day, I had a weird pattern of dating guys in the record business. Not musicians or artists, mind you. More record exec types of the scrappy, short, Jewish varietal. That was my speed back then. I have no idea why. Beastie Boy tendencies I suppose. And truly, Jews and hip hop go together like peanut butter and matzoh. From Rick Rubin to Lyor Cohen to Steve Rifkind and back again. We're drawn to it like moths to a flame. I spent so much time hanging out at the offices of record labels- there was a time when it seemed that all of my friends and lovers were in the music business. Those pre-streaming days and such. Incidentally, Lyor Cohen was on our plane coming back from Vegas after we got married. I was wearing an Adidas bucket hat and immediately felt shy. I remember him calling Ja (Rule) on the plane phone before we had cell phones. It was epic.

So to back up, after moving to New York, I ended up very much in the world of 90s hip hop, which was just fine by me. Little clubs like the 205, BOB, Sapphire, Den of Thieves, Rebar, The Tunnel on Sunday nights, Nell's, the reggae/hip hop basement at Club USA. Sunday night showcases at Chaz and Wilson's uptown.  DJs like Stretch Armstrong made it all so much fun. Surely I'm missing some but you get it. If you were here, you no doubt remember the sweat fest of fun almost every night. You could go to a small club and dance your face off. It didn't matter what you were wearing, although looking cute was always on the menu.  And I could never, ever forget a young group called the Fugees, performing at Tramps, where all of us were basically dancing in our bras by the end of the night because it was so hot on all counts. The energy at that show was absolutely unforgettable, and absolutely in my top ten concert experiences of all time. Ooh la la la.

I also remember how inspired I was by Vibe magazine, the photos in particular. Photographers like Jonathan Mannion (his photo of Biggie above) were doing the best photos of all the heroes and heroines of the scene. In many ways, I think Vibe inspired me to work in photography as a producer. I can remember shooting a young Lauryn Hill at Industria and being completely intoxicated by her beauty and power and style.

And I'm lucky to be married to a man that also lives his hip hop. It's true he may skew slightly more west coast than east coast, but it works. We've been watching the four part Wu Tang thing on Showtime  and he's never mad when I swoon over Method Man, who remains the dreamiest. The footage from those early Wu days takes me back to to that time- it was all so gritty and grimy and raw.  Really, the Wu's 36 Chambers was more punk rock than punk rock itself. Nothing slick, nothing polished ,complete and total aggro amazingness. And even though Giuliani tried to ban dancing (it's true), he couldn't stop us, and I just feel so lucky I was here during the height of 90s hip hop, which, for my money, is my most favorite. And I love that my aunt loves hip hop as much as we do. She'll often wear an oversized Biggie tee shirt and for that, I love her the most. Nothing like Passover dinner and some hardcore hip hop. That's how we roll in my family.

As for where hip hop is now, it's ok. I don't hate it, but I certainly don't love it. And that's ok. Every generation has to have their music, and I'll let the kids have it. I may not be asking my Uber driver to turn up Hot 97 the way I used to back in the yellow cab days, but still. I can appreciate it. I love that New York was so instrumental in hip hop and always will be somehow. There is no more relevant backing track to this city in the last thirty years and change than hip hop. And that's the truth. Try driving on the FDR late at night some time blasting Mobb Deep's "Shook Ones" and you'll get it.

But today I was thinking about Biggie and how much his music meant and still means to me.  You could hear the emotion, the swagger, the pain. I may have to turn up to some Biggie today. In my apartment that happens to be not terribly far from where he grew up. And yes, Biggie's Brooklyn may be more Bugaboo than Bubble Goose now, but still. I love it. I love it all. Go spread love.

Cause that's what's up this hypnotizing Tuesday in  the BK. Yours, in juicy memories and hip hop forever. Happy bday, Biggie.  XO



Live through this: A personal take on how time is on my side

Good morning, Thursday. The sun is finally back and what a difference it makes. 

So I was just unwrapping the amazingly comprehensive NY Times piece on Generation X. It seems, yet again, we're having a moment. As so many of you know, being a member of the MTV generation is something I'm super passionate about. I have been lost and found a million times in this thing called life but my card carrying status as an Xer had never, ever left me, I'm eternally grateful for all of the references, music, and cynicism it has given me. G-d bless my Xness.

One of the pieces noted that it's 25 years since 1994, and it's worth checking in on what my generation is doing with themselves. What's particularly significant for me about that year is it's the year I moved to New York City. A year I can never, ever forget because it was one of the most pivotal of my life. 

I remember the end of my days in Philly, feeling so disassociated and disenchanted with the place I called home. And I wanted to reinvent what that meant. In general. I reached a point where all of my friends got out of Dodge, and I was the only one left- with a dead end job at a classical architecture firm and a crush on a coworker who wore sweater vests. I also remember eating a lot of plain baked potatoes for lunch.  Desperado.

I've always had a preloaded desire to live in New York, and with a lackluster life on the horizon, I wanted to make a move. So I got a job interview in the 212 and got on a train and got that job. And I moved on my birthday and never looked back. And just like that, life opened up. And the New York years happened and life happened and shit happened and here I am. Ready for what's next. My 30s were for falling in love and feeling loved and making up for all the funky fuckupedness of my 20s. Ten years later, I moved to Miami to take a job that would change the way I thought about work forever. And then very early into my 40s, it was time to come back to New York. And so I did.

To lens the backdrop a bit for you, here's what was going on that year in the world of pop culture. Madonna smoked a cigar on Letterman. NIrvana came out with "Unplugged". Oasis released "Definitely Maybe".  So many other things. Pulp Fiction and Uma's bob. OJ's glove. Playstation. Reality Bites. And of course, Hole's "Live Through This", an album I had on blast for the majority of the year, and had the baby tee with the logo to show my devotion to Courtney and co. Incredibly prolific times. But let's talk about right here and now.

Because with a new decade of life not too far off, I feel a new shift in the way I approach and process things. Sure there are way less f's given. But I tend to give f's to the stuff that matters. Like not working with jerks. Or energy vampires. Or people who are not my tribe. I also am focused on authenticity. And though that word is overwrought and overplayed, I'm feeling it. I'm feeling the need to live my truest life. And for me, that means being creative on my terms. Still figuring out that bit but bear with me...I've got a few minutes to figure out how to be the voice of my
generation. ;)

And 25 years since 1994 some things are still with me. I still love this big dumb city.  I'm still a redhead. I still love hip hop. I'm definitely more confident now, but in many ways, more vulnerable. The bottom line is- I'm still me. I may spend a bit more money on skincare and shoes but still here. It's interesting to think about the things you want to keep with you. Truly. I think it's a mistake to think about getting older as a time where you have to let everything go. Not always true. Because every phase of life gives you something for the next.  It's not about nostalgia at all, mind you. It's just having the roots and foundation so you can always keep moving and changing.  

Fascinating this moment. Treasuring it, savoring it, not afraid of it. 

Cause that's what's up this looking back to look forward kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in love and hope and sex and dreams. XO

PS- music nerds look at this list of releases from 1994. Insane.







Loving the boob tube: Celebrating women on television

Good morning, Tuesday. Happy hmm- second day of the work week? I dunno. I'm busy as shit this week. I got nothing in the way of salutations.

So this weekend I watched "Wine Country", Amy Poehler's much anticipated buddy flick where she and a cast of SNL alums go on a scripted trip for their pal's 50th birthday (bday gal is Rachel Dratch).

There's plenty of laughs and lots of questions. Like what is the point of Tina Fey's weird butch character? Is she there as some sort of log splitting spirit guide? I don't get it. She's never not funny. Except in this role.  Wh'appen?

And the premise itself is a bit on the thin side. A group of friends who waited tables at a Chicago pizza joint and still remained besties? Hmm. Maybe. But not probably.

But for those seeking some sort of truth about a 50th birthday party with some of the funniest women in the world should not turn away from this good but not great film. Maya Rudolph is always on point, and Paula Pelle is wonderful. There's some truly funny moments as expected from a great cast. And something I really loved about it all is that every woman featured looked their age in the best of ways. No skeletons. No overdone fillers. Just women being real. I love that. Thank goodness.

And here's what else. Though some complained about the lack of arc and resolution, I beg to differ. Because the truth is, when one approaches 50, it's not really about coming to big revelations or conclusions. You probably have a pretty good idea of who you are, and you most likely are not going to use a weekend in Napa to figure it all out. Know why? Cause you just want to get drunk and sing songs with your friends. As it should be. And that's just what they did. And it was lovely.

In other news, I just caught up on the game of the thrones. Oh my sweet Lord.  At one point, I had my cardigan over my head while I held my ears. The sights and sounds were simply too much for me- a repulsive amount of violence. Crazy dragon lady even had me feeling bad for Circe. The nonstop violence was too much to bear. I couldn't handle it. If given a choice, I think I'd rather be sipping pinot grig with Maya and company. Screw the Iron Throne. That's not my kind of leaning in. At all.

And lastly in other TV news, if you have not yet watched Shtisel on Netflix, it's a shanda, or scandal in Yiddish. How a show about Orthodox Jews in Jerusalem could be so bingeworthy is truly G-d's plan. And is it wrong I find the lead, Akiva, completely gorgeous, payes and all? I love the women on the show too- one who does what it takes to take care of her family after her husband bails, and another a beautiful widow whose lust for Akiva is forbidden. Great show- incidentally all in Hebrew and Yiddish with subtitles. 

I guess my point is let's hear it for the ladies of TV land, and showing ladies past a traditional prime. Though many complain of shite roles for women in Hollywood, maybe the smaller screen is the place to be. From midlife chick flicks to mad queens to women rebelling against very traditional roles, it's happening. (I caveat that GOTS does not treat women well on the show in many instances. In fact, it is often shockingly offensive- now that we have so many strong women onscreen let's get more in the writer's room, ok?

Anyway, I'm on assignment this week and not coming up for air much so writing this early in the am to keep it all keeping on. Cause that's what's up this boob tube of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in ladies first. XO

Maven recommends: A Mother's Day Product Round Up

Good morning, Friday. TGIF, babes.

This week was fairly magical. I can feel momentum happening around my work and I'm thrilled with that. I loved getting another piece on the Ageist, even though one reader commented that Keanu can't be all that wonderful if he promotes violence through his films (I officially have a hater). Besides that, I was grateful for some time this week to walk around this beautiful, vibrant city.  I'm feeling a lot of creative energy with the new season (even though Spring is feeling less than Spring like) and look forward to new projects in a way I haven't before. Why? Because I'm focused on taking on work that satisfies me creatively, and that gives me hope. I'm just finishing up a project for a shoe line and have a few more things in the works, but I'm also focused on reinventing this here blog so look for that in the weeks to come. 

In other news, it's been a while since I've shouted out a product. I'll break you off a few things I've been hearting on lately ,and without further ado, and just in time for Mother's Day to boot.

First up, this toner from Strivectin is just fabulous. As many of you know, I write for Strivectin from time to time and am a big fan of their products. This is their first toner and it doesn't disappoint. I'm generally not a toner person until the warmer months, as they tend to dry out my skin. But this one has a silky texture that feels lovely on the face. It's not that astringent feel you're used to, but it's a nice step before serum and feels like a great way to activate your other products. I know that's not what toner really does, but it's a great one. Plus it provides radiance and glow. Two of my favorite things. Gorgeous. Get this. If you're more of an oily type, this may not be your jam. But if you tend to be more combo and on the dry side, this toner is great.  Shake well for maximum results.

Second, I am OBSESSED with this green eye goodness from Chanel. You all know Chanel makeup is my jam and this green combo is completely fantastic. I've shied away from green as I've gotten older because it feels like "too much", but I couldn't pass up this combo. The eyeliner is gorgeous, the green mascara is magical, and this quad is so pretty, but warning- you need to tread lightly as it's super pigmented. I personally love just doing the eyeliner and mascara for every day use, and use the eyeshadow for when I want to feel a bit more glam. It's just stunning. They also do a new grey, blue, and mauve. The grey is probably next on my list. Grey is good on my greenish eyes.

Also have you smelled Diptyque's new Eau de Minthé? I happened to walk by the store the other day and couldn't resist a sniff.  It's so lovely and fresh. Composed of fern, mint, patchouli, and geranium with a hint of rose. I love it. In fairness, it skews more masculine so lovely for the men folk.  It's fresh and clean, like I imagine Trevor Noah would smell. That's how a man should smell, ps. Now you know. Good for chicks, too. I'd so wear this with a pretty dress to take the girly edge off.

Oh and no pre-Summer product round up is complete without a self tanner. This one from Tarte came to me by chance and I'm so glad it did. It's a fabulous, streak proof self tanner that dries in a flash and lasts for days. Excellent.

Just a few picks pour tu this Friday am. Hope you have a glorious Mother's Day weekend. Khan and I will be holding it down in NYC while David is out of town. Cause that's what's up this product shout out of a Friday in the 718, Yours, in bits and bobs. XO





Can a jumpsuit change your life?

Oh hello, Thursday.  How goes?

So I know I haven't written about clothes much of late because my focus has shifted to more content around reinvention and midlife and the like.  But I saw something the other day in Soho that made me remember why I love clothes, and why my point of view when it comes to style is kind of unique.

I was waiting to meet a friend at the Gucci store in Soho (as one does) but had a few spare moments and ended up in Celine. I know the fact that Hedi Slimane took over from Phoebe Philo was super controversial to some, but I love him and always have. I know Pheeb's legacy is huge, but Hedi's doing some great things for Celine. I have always been a fan of his sexy androgyny. It's probably the type of clothing I feel best in, particularly when I'm feeling in peak shape (not at the moment mind you but soon...).

So when I saw this leather jumpsuit it changed up my game a bit.

I fell madly in love with it. And though out of my price range, my fantasies surrounding it began almost instantly. I was willing to cease all carbo loading to wear it. I was willing to work around the clock to get it. And most of all, I dreamt of a scenario where this jumpsuit with ankle restraints could somehow become my everyday uniform. If my everyday uniform required me to lead some kind of super cool gang, that is. 

Now I'm aware many of you are having a big wtf maven moment right now. But for me, this jumpsuit is the perfect uniform. Like- where would I NOT go wearing this? I'd wear it to work with flats or a sneaker (remember i've always worked in creative casual environments). I'd I'd wear it to lunch. To dinner. To parties with a high heeled, barely there sandal. To any number of hotel bars.  I love the fact it provides instant cool cred. And it's somehow lightweight enough to not be an oven. But fact- not going to look good on mere mortals. And that of course, is part of the fantasy. But back to reality- I probably won't end up owning this, but I'm pretty sure this jumpsuit would be what I'd buy after selling the rights to a screenplay or removing several ribs to fit into it. A girl can dream.

I just wanted to share how much I still love clothes. How much they still inspire and move me and make me want to steam all of my vegetables. If loving you is wrong...

Just a little silly love song for ya this Thursday, brought to you by Hedi Slimane. Oh and I wrote a piece about Keanu that got published here. Check it out, people. I'd absolutely wear this get up to hang with him. Cause that's what's up this jump up and down kind of Thursday in the 718. Yours, in fashion aspirations. XO