Sometimes you just gotta listen to Night Moves

Good afternoon, Monday. It's good and chilly outside and the sun's already starting to creep behind the buildings and I'm having a serious case of the feels. For many reasons, really. Oh and big caveat- my perceived problems are kind of bullshit. I know this. I'm grateful to not be in much worse shape. But I digress. 

First, yesterday I was all up in my closet all day. Switching over the Summer clothes to the Winter wear. That always makes me feel a little contemplative. Mostly because it's such a bitch I often wonder why I have so much crap. And so many sweaters. But also because time is passing and the seasons are changing and Summer's over and where did it go and what did I do and how come I didn't have any lobster rolls and all of that.

Second, I've been setting goals like a cheap motivational speaker of late, which tbh, is not super comfy for me. I'm doing a challenge at Pure Barre (20 classes in 31 days), I'm eating like a champ, and I've managed to completely quit smoking. I'm also ruminating and scheming and dreaming about Maven 2.0. I've got a lot going. Unlike most people, I'd like to crawl in a hole with a box of American Spirits (yellow) and a case of Twinkies and just lay the heck down. With a martini. But that's just me. Personal best blah blah blech. I'm tired. This type of modern life...

Third, I'm worried. Like many of you. That this bad reality show of a President is somehow managing to rise to the top of the Idiot pile (yes I know he's already there) and have a higher approval rating. I don't get it. And I'm scared that the blue wave will be more of a ripple. Dear Lord I hope I'm wrong. Jesus I hope I am. Anyone listening? I hope so. I truly can't remember a more terrifying time for our democracy. 

So really, between the darker days and the goal setting and the sense of doom over the country, I've turned to Bob Seger. As one does. Cause sometimes you just gotta listen to "Night Moves", have a moment, and move on, like a middle aged man going through it in a bar in anywhere, USA.  No mind the song's about teenage sex and has no real utility or meaning for my life now so I'm not sure why I find it altogether comforting. But yea, I can still get in touch with my inner young, restless, and bored. So for now, I'll be working on my night moves. Just trying to get through some of the Monday mopes. Hope you're gettin' through it too.

Cause that's what's up this seeing it through with Seger kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in waiting on the thunder. XO

Being and nothingness, the boot version

Good afternoon, ya little Wednesday, you.

So yesterday on my way to a dinner thing I popped into the Isabel Marant store, as one does. And thus began a perplexing, aggravating, and altogether legitimate fashion existential crisis.

Besides the fact that it appears the Grand Ole Opry has decamped to the Paris atelier of Ms. Marant (wtf with all the western wear this season?) I spotted a pair of shoes that, although far beyond my means, were born to be on my feet. Or so I thought.

Because these little scrunch boots in that pretty scarlet were not made for human feet. Or at least the feet of someone who actually has to walk from place to place every day. I suppose you could walk in them if you are carried, say, from an Uber into your office. But for the rest of us, nah. Not gonna happen. It's like a stilletto heel on a wedge for crying out loud. Pourquoi, Isabel? Pourquoi???

I wanted to love them I really did. But that little baby heel plus that acid trip of a platform is just completely insane. I wondered if it's my age. My hormones. My feet who have seen far too many barre classes and can't bear to not feel grounded. I tried to walk around in them and burst into laughter. The sales millennial was far from amused.

"Seriously, who can walk in these"? I asked.

"Um. Everyone. They're our most popular boot". She said.

"Have you tried them on?" I asked.

"Ya. I don't know what you're talking about". She vocal fried.

At which point, I sat myself down and put my flat little suede boots back on. Also Isabel, mind you. But nowhere near the weirdness.

So what's the moral of the story?

Millennial feet may very well be different than mine. As may French feet. And I present a challenge to any of my NY friends or those who like to spend way too much money online shopping. Try these on. And report back. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is it just me or do these shoes make you question fashion in general? For I have never experienced a shoe like this- they made me feel like I had 20 drinks and had to walk a tightrope. Non. And non again. Ah, the futility. And the pointlessness. 

So get back to me on this, would you? Cause that's what's up this comfort is key kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in style, and a good bit of sense. XO

Oh, shut up already.

Good morning, Tuesday. Gorgeous Fall day here in the big city.

So last night I was talking to someone on the phone who indicated how much they're enjoying silence of late. As in no TV, no music, just the sounds of the suburbs and not much else. For me, that's never been ideal- I need an endless hum of background noise- whether it's BBC Radio 6 or its NPR or its CNN on an endless loop or its my latest Discover Weekly playlist on Spotify.  But lately, I see the value in stone cold silence. Because there are way too many people that need to shut the hell up, and they're simply talking wayyyyy too much.

And with that, I give you a list of my top people that need to shut the hell up before the midterms/2020/end of time. Seriously, just shut up already.

Kanye. He's number one. Please shut up. Please stop talking about making America great again and turning Uganda into "Jurassic Park". Please just stop talking completely. 

Elizabeth Warren. Shut the hell up. Stop taking DNA tests. And keep your wacky chick thing away from the midterms. I beg.

The Clintons. It's endless for them really. They need to shut up now. Stop talking. Disappear in Chapaqqua. Take a vow of silence. Go away.

Trump. This goes without saying. Because he's the President and you're not. A direct quote from his 60 Minutes interview this past Sunday. Quiet on set. We are all losing our minds. If I never heard his voice again, it would not be a moment too soon.

Alec Baldwin. Yes, yes. This one pains me. But his "black people love me" comments and his new talk show which is more about him than any of his guests just has me very annoyed by him. Not forever in terms of shutting up. Just right now.

Between all the podcasts, Instagram stories, and reality/dystopian shows happening in 2018, I need some peace and quiet. I probably need to shut it up too. For real. But back to the above list- clearly there's many not mentioned but for now, a vow of silence is an almost perverse fantasy in terms of all the tremendous talking leading up to arguably the most important midtown election of our lifetime. I've just about had it. So shush.

Cause that's what's up this shhhhhh of a Tuesday in the very unquiet 212. Yours, in exercising the fifth amendment; because there's never been a better time. XO

I like these.

Good afternoon and TGIF. It's been a dreary week so very happy to see the sun.

Last night, after a few glasses of pinot noir I happened to catch a recap of Kanye's performance at the White House and decided that, yea, the world was most likely ending. At a time when so many are suffering as a result of hurricanes, discrimination, unfair decisions, and Lord knows what else, look who's banging on the President's desk and calling him "bro" (ok that part was a little bit awesome).

Kanye and such aside, I need a break from the madness and sure you do too. That's why when these new Nike Cortez sneakies came across my feed I smiled. Sometimes a cute kick with a metallic swoosh is all you need for a few moments of happiness. Or at least I do anyway. You do you.

So that's all I have for you today. Lots of Cortez cuties (those lavender suede though) avail on the Nike site right now and are just under $100. I love a classic Cortez and truly- when the revolution finally comes,  a good sneaker will be key to run as fast as you can. All the chic girls in New York are wearing the white leather ones with the black stripe, ps. So cute with just about everything you own.

Cause that's what's up this cuckoo, crazy kind of Friday in the 212. Yours, in just doin' it (and doin' it and doin' it well). XO

Keepin' it Sassy on this International Day of the Girl

Good morning, friends and fam. Happy International Day of the Girl. I was getting dressed for work today watching the Today show and needless to say, I wasn't crying, you were. 

For some reason, I got super choked up when Savannah and Hoda had their little girls on stage with Meghan Trainor, J Hud, and Kelly Clarkson, and of course, the queen- Michelle Obama, looking radiant in white. I cried not just because I'm hormonal (I am), but because we women and former girls have a lot on our plates right now. And though the Kavanaugh thing and the Trump thing and the Time's Up thing are just too many things, what upsets me the very most is the women who don't support equality, who don't believe victims, and who continue to raise the roof for issues that serve to keep women down. Do you really love being a Republican more than a human being? Fuck those women. Seriously. 

And since it's a TBT, I thought I'd share some images I found on an awesome Tumblr in homage to Sassy Magazine. For those unfamiliar, Sassy was a young woman's magazine in the 90s that was sort of like a punk rock sister to mags like Seventeen. And though you all already know I have a serious fetish for all things 90s, you may not realize just how right magazines like Sassy got it then, and how perfectly in tune they seem right now. Sassy was all about a no fuss approach to beauty, a rebellious bent when it came to dress, and an inclusive, diverse "real talk" vibe to its articles. Plus the 'zine mystique of the whole thing was visually divine. 

 It also gave girls the license to speak out without judgement long before #metoo, and was creating user generated content before we even knew what that was. It was an incredible endeavor that started publishing in 1988 under Jane Pratt, and then ceased operations in 1996. It championed women like Chloe Sevigny (who was incidentally an intern), Liz Phair, Courtney Love. And 30 years later, we need those ladies or the next generation of grrls more than ever. 

Cheers to Sassy then and now- we're all a bit more grown up but the legacy lives on.  Cause that's what's up this girl power of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in putting my sassy pants on. It's going to be a long couple of months/years. Buckle up and fight the power.  XO


One good piece: A double breasted blazer feels just right

Good afternoon, Wednesday. The sun is finally out, baby. Thank goodness. Tired of all this gloom.

So if the forecast is right, it appears we're going to get a bit of chill this weekend. My thoughts with the Florida coast ps- no words to describe how scary that must be and I do hope everyone is safe and sound, people and animals alike.

So I've been thinking about restraint and how not to buy everything that comes across my Instagram feed.  It's all about working with what you have but updating each season with a few key pieces. To me, one such piece is a good double breasted blazer- you can't go wrong. The looks above are from seasons past, but still feel so very right now. From layering over a floral dress and boots for a bit of tomboy appeal to throwing one over your favorite rock tee, jeans, and high heels, it's a damn good look.

Some great options are avail that won't break the bank. I'm LOVING the variety of options at & Other Stories, some of which are pictured here and many more options here. How good are these? And love the idea of corduroy for a great seasonal look that feels slightly 1975. Yes, please. And I love the plaid coat- plaid is having a real moment and a double breasted silhouette works very well with the pattern.  I know I posted the image from Nili Lotan's fall lookbook in a former post, but it deserves a second look. Because it's GORGEOUS. I love how a double breasted blazer is classic yet so cool at the same time. Home run if you ask me, and an easy way to do that desk to dinner vibe we all dream about. Or at least I do. Cause that's what's up this doubling down on Fall kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in blazing trails. XO


Maven muse: Vivienne Westwood suits my rebellious, eccentric, punk rock mood

Good morning, Tuesday. Had a lovely weekend and a brilliant day off yesterday. Hope you are all getting back in the swing of things too.

So this weekend one of my best friends got married to his partner and it was ah-mazing. It was my first same sex wedding and it was so much fun. I'm not sure you can top the feeling of a roomful of gay men telling you you had the best dress of the night. I was positively thrilled, particularly in a roomful of major looks, honey. I went big with a sequined animal print number, and although I was scared to bring it that hard, bring it I did. And I don't regret it.

The point of the above is not to gloat. It's to acknowledge I can do over the top, and that maybe that's my best setting. I do keep it fairly simple on most days, but I'm attracted to a bit of over the top. I can't help it. Plus I'm so bloody pissed off due to (ahem) recent events in our country that I almost can't bear it. I'm craving making a very major middle finger statement right about now.That's why a recent Instagram prod to check out some new Vivienne Westwood shoes gave me a feeling. She is my de facto muse of the moment.

I mean- these tiger inspired shoes. WTF in the best of ways? I need them. And they come in gold.

Plus there were a few other items my rebellious, Anglophilic, eccentric soul was lusting for. 

Like this jumpsuit. 

And this suit. That jacket. Those trousers. Gah to the nth power.

And this fabulous coat.

And this electric blue dress. And these leopard pants.

And these JEANS. They are next bloody level.

This could all mean I'm either:

a) Turning into Eddy from "Ab Fab" as I always knew I would.

b) Channeling the Dadaish insanity of our times.

c) Embracing my inner punk rock weirdo.

d) All of the above.

I think it's d for sure. And true- crazy clothes come at a crazy price. But a girl can dream of living an eccentric life with a wardrobe to match, non? Either go big or go home, I say. Cause that's what's up this sweetie darling of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in a bit of outrageous whilst feeling outraged. XO

Link to site here. So much goodness.


Five for Friday: Fall is here. And so are these coats.

Good morning, Friday. It's chilly in New York and I'm happy about it. Since it may finally be time to shop for some chillier weather staples, I give you some great coats at all price points. I could literally list a hundred coats because there are a ton of great ones this season for every body type and price point. Above is a still from "Love Story" ps. Because nothing says Fall/Winter like Ali in that movie. Seriously. 

 Anyhoo, here's five great coats that I'm lurving plus one bonus just because- enjoy and happy shopping- oh and um, most of these are of the long wooly variety- but loads out there for those who like short, midi, and everything in between:

This coat from & Other Stories is basic in the best of ways. I love the silhouette and would look great with leggy black tights and a stiletto bootie. 

This big splurgy Helmut Lang coat is on sale at Saks and has magic powers. I love a red coat- great for the mood and great for gloomy, chilly days. You can't be in a bad mood and wear this coat. That's a fact. 

This pile coat from H&M is priced nicely and is a big, giant adult wubs. I love a camel coat, and the texture makes it trendy and cool with everything from a floral dress and boots to denim and Adidas. Yup. Love.

This plaid coat from Vince has just the right tomboy touch. A coat for grown women. I like it. A lot. Great for work and beyond.

This Lemaire coat is a dream. An oversized dream. This silhouette feels so on trend to me- I would wear this with absolutely everything. Dreaming of this one. 

Oh and for a bonus- this left of center coat from Rachel Comey. It's just weird enough. So so good. She always does a fab coat, right? And that color...major.

So with that, I wish you the best of weekends. My bestie is tying the knot this weekend and I'll tell ya the story of my dress next week if I feel like it. It's quite something. Cause that's what's up this bundling up kind of Friday in the 212. Yours, in keeping it all under wraps. XO



A few thoughts on the state of things...

Good morning, Wednesday.

So unless you've been asleep at the wheel for a hot minute, you no doubt have noticed we are living in a nightmarish, reality show on peyote mixed with arsenic. I can't believe what this (not my) President has unleashed and the cans of worms are infesting our screens every day- try very hard not to pay attention to the news. I double dog dare you.

Thinking about Kavanaugh, it's hard not to reflect on my own teenaged coming of age. He's a bit older than me but generally the same era. He saw Sixteen Candles. So did I. He liked beer. So did I. And he drank too much and did dumb shit. So did I. But this is not a piece to excuse his actions- to me, he's undeniably guilty and there's no way he should serve on the court. And if I didn't think so on the basis of the crime alone, I double dog didn't think so after his testimony. Big boys don't cry. Especially those who want to serve on the highest court of the land. And that's that.

I remember being a teen in the 80s and thinking about how the generations before mine really did a number on our fun. By this, I mean the AIDs crisis, that scourge that transcended any thought we had about sex, and we thought a lot about sex at that age. It was terrifying to even imagine having anything other than safe sex. And I found myself wondering if my team was paying the price for all of that indiscrete hedonism of the 70s salad days. Perhaps we're in another period of correction.

A period of darkness, of penance for all the ignorance we had when it came to toxic male culture. The fact that we didn't come forward and shoved it all under the rug  is coming back to haunt us. And now, today's kids are growing up in a world that must seem terrifying when it comes to sexual nuance and sex in general. How do we flirt in this day and age when everything is off limits? How do we throw caution to the wind and not fear for our lives when it comes to sleeping with someone? For me, this is clearly a non sequitur, but I'm talking about the kids. How will all of this affect them? If I was a young woman right now, I'd be terrified. And if I was a young man, I'd be frozen, wondering how to be and how to act when it comes to dating and dominance and anything else you can think of.

Some years ago, I worked for a trend forecaster who was instrumental for bringing the term "metrosexual" into the lexicon. It seemed that men suddenly had a raison d'etre- to wear striped button downs, buy expensive face cream, and cop to the fact that they were every bit as vain as we were. Then the financial crisis happened and many men in fields like manufacturing lost their jobs, and to me- that was a crucial moment. Suddenly, women seemed to be faring much better than the guys. And then I couldn't help but wondering where this left men. How would they evolve when women were arguably smoking them in most arenas? And now look where we are. We have a President who mocks the testimony of a woman who claims she was raped. 

And we can't go a day without a man being outed for doing something awful. It's so sad to me. Tragic, really.  Was I naive and never seeing all of this? Clearly I grew up in a culture that never called foul on this behavior. Back to the movies of my youth, and particularly Sixteen Candles- there's been articles written of late about how incredibly fucked up that movie is- Jake Ryan- my preppy poster teen for all that was right in the world, noted that he could violate his passed out girlfriend and then stuck her in a a car with an eager nerd, who apparently took advantage of her to which she responded, when asked if she enjoyed it, "I think I did."

Can you imagine a film like this playing now? This, mind you, was one of the greatest films of my generation. A classic. An icon. And our teenage brains were buying one very twisted myth- that when a rape does not take place in some kind of textbook dark back alley, it's actually funny. Unbelievable isn't it?

I hope that we are getting to a place where the very notion of toxic masculinity will go the way of the cave man, and never, ever come back.  This is not exactly relevant, but when I look at shows like "The Deuce" on HBO, New York seemed like one giant, STD laden cess pool. But the 70s, and their distant cousin, the 60s, were the decades of sexual awakening- when Ozzy and Harriet began to sleep in the same bed, and then some. Who knew where it would lead? Well my generation found out. And the notion of "safe" sex was born. But with all the revelations coming out right now, who knew it was anything but?

 Were we so focused on cleansing ourselves of the sins of the 70s that we failed to notice some other crucial things happening in culture?

Many people said that when Trump became President, it would get dark. And it's darker than I could ever have imagined. But from the darkness comes light, and rock bottom leaves only one way to go- back up again. I'm praying we can get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do. This period of revelation and hopefully correction is a painful one. But it's got to come to the surface so we can not only question how men like Trump came to power or how someone like Bill Cosby did what he did, but what was happening in our culture to create a perfect backdrop for these scenarios to occur. In order to stop the bleeding, you have to close the wound. It doesn't appear we're there yet. But I hope that tomorrow's high school party goers or anyone else does not have to endure any of the crap we did. I am beyond grateful for the women speaking out, speaking up, and most of all, speaking their truth. Time's up indeed. Period. End of story. XO 


On forever friends and belly laughs

Good morning, Monday. Holy emotions, batman. I had an amazing weekend in Philly with my very best girl gang and it was just, wow. It's incredibly humbling and grounding to spend time with people who knew you when. It's not about nostalgia. It's not about wanting to go back to a time when gravity was not taking over and when the world was full of possibilities. For me, it's embracing where we are now and where we're headed, with a healthy dose of insight and love from the past. 

Like those people who were with you when you watched Bono perform at Live Aid. 

Or the people who have the same silly sense of humor as you, even though we're all old enough to know better. 

It's the people who saw you through many awkward hormonal freak outs and haircuts and tears over unrequited love.

It's the people who were cool with you even before you know who you were. 

I love these people. And true- space and time have made it seem like maybe we don't have much in common anymore. I'm a city woman sans kid with a husband and a dog and a bit of a kooky existence. But truly- these women in my life (and then later in the weekend many of our guy pals) have never, ever judged me. It's so refreshing to spend time with people like that. We may have super different lives but our DNA is pretty much the same. And at times, I'm sad that I don't get to see these lovelies more often. But getting together and giggling and trying on clothes and googling people you once knew is just the most. Belly laughs for days.

And seeing our group of guy pals was a surprise I planned with one of our pals after an impromptu night out this Summer at the shore. I was nervous to reunite, but it did feel oh so good. We are older, wiser (meh), and a little less prone to partying,  but we had fun. It was so nice to see them all again. It's funny how life happens.  And ya, it goes by pretty damn fast. And nothing is exactly as it seems. Though I did realize from connecting and reconnecting this weekend- my life is not that different than I envisioned it. I knew I'd live in New York, I never really wanted kids, and I wanted a husband who was cool and chill and funny. And tall. Got those.  And I also knew I'd do something creative for a living, so I suppose I got that right too. Maybe I knew myself better than I thought I did. I always did have a good gut for stuff.

Ooh and as luck would have it- I got inspired to take a book idea to the next level. I'll be sending a chapter or two to my girls from the weekend to see what they think. Is it too late for me to be the voice of my generation? Ha. We'll see.

Cause that's what's up this post reunion kind of Monday in the 212. Back at it, right after looking back.  Oh and ps- if you don't know whose picture that is above or what movie it's from, you didn't go to high school when I did. XO