It's Fashion Week, folks (and nobody cares)

Good morning, Thursday. If you're seeing a few extra leggy types roaming around the city this week, it's because of Fashion Week. It's barely a blip ps- go to Vogue.com's front page and there's barely a mention of it. As a lifelong dedicated follower, there's part of me that mourns the thrill being gone. And on Business of Fashion's homepage, there's a big article about how American fashion needs a big time rethink. Because it's no longer valid in its current state. Have a look, it's worth the read, as is this piece in unlikely fashion watcher Vox.  

But yesterday Tom Ford was showing back in New York and the show was so quietly beautiful and classic it made me remember what I love most about American style. The sense of the casual coupled with the strong. The sexy ease of it all. The coolness.

Was this collection a revelation when it comes to showing something new? Not in the least. But Tom, like many, are going back to what made them great in the first place- perhaps a bit of a yearning for what was but also the lack of ability to interpret something completely new in such anxiety producing times. I absolutely adored everything on this runway, and to me, these are clothes that will actually sell in stores. The tailoring, the color combinations, the quiet boldness. Did it take direct cues from his now iconic Gucci collections of the 90s? For certain. But those were some of my favorite clothes of all time. Unforgettable.

This fashion week may not make an impact as American fashion works to redefine its place in the industry, but this was a really beautiful collection that is a nice reminder of what makes Ford great in the first place. More please.

Cause that's what's up this still freaky for fashion kind of Thursday in the 718. Yours, in American style. I still care, ps. XO


Maven recommends: An all in one piece situation

Good morning, Tuesday. It's going to be just shy of 65 degrees today in New York. And though I should be enjoying it, it's making me feel weird. My body doesn't quite know what to do. Good thing it's back to winter this weekend. I'm not quite sure I'm ready for the heat.

So in a perfectly wardrobed world, I'd go between a caftan and a jumpsuit, all day every day. I am the biggest fan of one piece dressing that has ever lived. I love the power of putting on one piece and looking so put together. A friend of mine is turning 50 soon and is having a caftan only weekend. Needless to say, I've started packing in my mind. I can't wait.

But back to the jumpsuit. I was watching "Woodstock" the movie last night as one does and became fixated on Pete Townsend's jumpsuit during the Who's performance. The man is a bean so he looked ridiculously chic in an all white boiler suit- timeless really in a sea of hippie dippie. Which brings me to the fact that jumpsuits are truly reaching ubiquity in fashion. And I love them. And now that so many people are going sober, going out wearing one will be more fun. Lessening the need to pee has just made the jumpsuit way more accessible.

One style of jumpsuit that I love is the aforementioned boiler suit. According to my good pal Wikipedia, boilersuits are so called by men who maintained coal fired boilers, and the one piece suit did not allow soot to enter one's lower half.  Cut to now when women have adopted the one piece wonder for themselves. It's androgynous for sure but somehow sexy, particularly when paired with heels. Bonus points if you wear a pretty bra underneath. Or not. Do you.

One of the best selections around has to come from Topshop, the UK favorite for translated trends that won't break the bank. A small peruse of their site shows so many great options, my favorite being the zip up denim version pictured at the top of this post. In love. Truth be told- it helps to have a more boyish physique to rock this look- it's not easy for girls with boobs or hips or roundness of any kind but you can always size up a bit and get the fit right. PS- that black corduroy one pictured is on big time sale and it's so cool looking- would love it with high top sneakers from Golden Goose or even rolled up with low top Vans.

And now that reality is hitting, I'm not wearing a caftan or a jumpsuit today. Actually I lied. I'm wearing a jumpsuit right now. It's a one piece pajama jumper situation that I love to wear around the house. But since I'm out and about today, no dice on this look. 

What do you think of the zip up jumpsuit and will you get down like that? I'd say a strong yes.  It checks the boxes for a strong look that is strong, cool, and comfortable. Cause that's what's up this utilitarian Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in one piece wonders. XO

We made a new friend this weekend, and he's a bit of a hard ass

Good morning, Monday. The Super Bowl was not so super, now was it? The commercials were even worse. And let's not even discuss Adam Levine and his weird tank top. Awful, just awful.

So one of the joys about living in New York is that it's weird. In the best of ways. This city is full of eccentric people that provide a colorful approach to everyday life. That's one of the many reasons I love living here. It's just good weird. For me, living in Miami was bad weird. Or simply, not my flavor of weird. But New York? Yea, I get it. And I suppose my penchant for storytelling has a perfect outlet in a city full of so many stories. Here's one.

On Saturday, David and I decided to take the dog on a long walk through the neighborhood after a rather lazy morning at home. On our way out, we stopped to water my landlady's plants- we live in a brownstone owned by her family and she's on the garden/parlor floor. That's first floor for you non-Brooklyn kids. Anyway, she's been in Thailand for about a month and a half now with her recently college graduated son. Before she left, we promised to get her mail and water her plants, as good neighbors do. So Saturday we were in her apartment and the absolute weirdest thing happened. I'm standing there arranging some of her mail on the counter and tidying up a bit when I saw him. 

Moving across the hardwood floor was a turtle. Well, a tortoise upon closer inspection.

Now if you're not expecting to see an animal crawling across the floor, let alone a decent sized tortoise, you may feel like you're hallucinating. At least I did. And apparently I screamed to David "THERE'S A WALKING TURTLE IN HERE"! A walking turtle? I suppose in my shock I simply meant JesusChristheresaturtlewalkingacrosstheapartment but that's what came out. And then I ran out of the apartment. I suppose I got scared. I don't know why. But I did. Those legs and that hard shell and that extended neck freaked the f out of me. And of course, David was left to deal with it.

If you don't know our history or my husband's history with animals, it's epic. I'll never forget him freeing a pigeon from a frozen yogurt shop on South Beach, or accidentally murdering a possum which was masquerading as a rat at our home in Coconut Grove. Now it was a tortoise. So many questions.

How did it get there?

Why is there a tortoise in this apartment?

How the HELL did it get there?

Immediately I went upstairs and started calling everyone I could think of. I called my friend Talia who rescues dogs. No answer. I called 311, who asked me if the turtle was "vicious". Ummm. No.In that case, they would not come get him. I called a million animal rescues with specialties in exotics, none of whom work on Saturdays apparently. I called the ASCPA. I called Pet Smart, who did not know what to do with it. I called the guy who sometimes house sits for Khan, who keeps tarantulas as pets so I figured he might know what to do. Wrong. I asked my Facebook community and they all insisted he must belong to the home. 

Our landlady never, ever mentioned she had a pet ps. David was getting ready to adopt him or her. I began to think about life with a turtle/tortoise. How would Khan react? How would I tell him he'd no longer be the only pet in my life? How does one care for a guy or gal like this? And why did I feel so guilty that I really did not want to have him in my home? I love animals, but for some reason, this shelled creature was not one I could picture crawling around my apartment. But if he was a stray, of course we'd find a way to foster him, until we found him a proper, tortoise friendly home. David was feeling responsible for him somehow. I just wanted to know why and how.

And then David got in touch with someone (after I talked him out of releasing him into the wilds of Brooklyn) who said it's one of three scenarios:

1. The turtle belonged to the tenant.

2. The turtle belonged to the tenant and they lost it thus forgetting it was there.

3. Somebody put the turtle in the home on purpose.

It finally occurred to us to call our landlady's sister, who we send our rent check to. I was nervous to do that because A TURTLE IN THE HOUSE.

So David texted her asking if she knew anything about it and here's what she said:

"Oh yea. That's Bertram. He's lived there for 15 years. He lives under the radiator in the winter and comes out from time to time. And he's not a turtle. He's a tortoise".

BERTRAM. Could there be a better name for  a New York tortoise pet than Bertram?

Apparently he half hibernates in Winter so said landlady had no real reason to tell us of his existence. He doesn't really eat all winter, but how would we know that? Immediately I went out and bought him some organic butter lettuce to eat, which he devoured. David also fed him a house plant leaf because he was worried that he would starve to death. Then he worried he had poisoned him. OMG. The drama. Oh and the college grad what's app'd us from Thailand to tell us NOT to worry about him or even feed him.  Gone went the butter lettuce, even though he had eaten a bit of it. Maybe I need to hibernate for the winter. Excellent weight loss tactic.

Seriously though- who has a free roaming tortoise with the first name of an endocrinologist in their apartment (fun fact- Bertram was the name of my mother's long time endocrinologist)? And forgets to tell the people watching said apartment about him? Thus concluded the excitement for the afternoon. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally departed for our walk, relieved Bertram was not a homeless turtle that escaped from a local brownstone. A tortoise lives in Brooklyn. And he doesn't need our help. Only in New York, kids. Only in New York.

Cause that's what's up this wacky Monday in the 718. Yours, in hard shells and funny times. XO



On discernment and thinking it all through

Good afternoon, Friday and TGIbloodyF. It's been a long, cold week and looking forward to a chill weekend, including Super Bowl Sunday I suppose.

So sometimes I channel that aforementioned psychic/intuitive ability I mentioned the other day and then realize I want to share it will all of you. For instance, today I was watching CNN when they announced Cory Booker running for Prez in 2020. Admittedly, we've all been watching him for a minute and it's not a huge surprise. But damn if that field is not becoming overcrowded and hard to distinguish. And it just turned 2019.

Obviously we know this is a reaction to the polarization Trump has caused in this country. And everyone is ready to jump off the deep end. But a word came to me this morning and it's stuck with me all day. It whispered quietly in my brain as I watched the news and that word is/was "discernment".

Hmm. It's a popular word of late as we continue to explore mindfulness and intention and all of that fun stuff.  But truly, it's a perfect word for how I'm feeling. And I think I may smell a trend in the near future. Instead of too much we should probably go back to just enough. 

Take social media. Many people I know are opting out of Facebook and choosing to stay on Instagram and/or Twitter or whatever depending on what suits them. So instead of the constant bombardment of "like" culture, we are now choosing/discerning which networks are right for us, and which we can actually stand to look at.

Another reason discernment is top of mind is because I've been thinking a ton lately about finances and work and my relationship to both. As many of you know, I love stuff. But lately I've chosen to live with less, and buy a lot less of said stuff. Essentials only. Need vs. want. You name it. My shopping is becoming more discerning as I focus on building my writing business and simply because- I am so overstimulated when it comes to the constant barrage of "sale sale sale" and feed feed feed of clothes shoes whatever you want. Back in the day, people lived with less and it was way ok. Now because of fast fashion and our consumption addiction, we all have too much. And we buy too much. And as I get older, I want good things.  So because of that, it's all about less. And being mindful and discerning when it comes to what constitutes a true "must have".

And it's not surprising that this coordinates with the work I do- I'm trying to be more discerning about the work I take on, who with, and whether it's a step in the right direction, a means to an end, or just a whole lot of fun.  Kind of a quasi resolution of mine- choose wisely when it comes to work.  Oh and food. Of course, food. Just be more mindful of what I'm putting in my body in general.  It's really appearing (the d word) in every area of my life. So I need to trust it.

We are more than fortunate to have the choices we do. But when I look at things like a major election, it's hard to keep score. And as a nation,  I think we need to be alpha discerning when it comes to choosing our next President. So with everyone jumping in the pool, I can't help but worry about drowning. Drowning in options. Drowning in voices. And drowning in too much being, well, too damm much.

I'm not sure if any of you meditate-  I do on occasion but not nearly enough- but that word "discernment" is coming up for me hot and heavy as the work week comes to a close. How will you choose what to wear, what to do, and what to eat this weekend? You might want to give some of this stuff an extra think. Oh and that KKW lipstick the other day? I know. I don't need it. But being able to write about it was well worth it. 

Cause that's what's up this choosing wisely kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in- you guessed it. Discernment. XO

Am I having an identity crisis?

Good morning, Thursday. Needless to say, STAY WARM. OMG.

So I love to hate the Kardashians but in the past year or so I've warmed to them. I know it's weird. But I have. Perhaps it's the fact that they're a bit more mature- somewhat less bratty and perhaps I just somehow appreciate their cheeky family values, however fake they may be. But I've prided myself on resisting any product offer they may have. From Kylie to Kim to Khloe and back again. That is, until last week.Gulp.

I happened across Kim's Instagram (wellI I follow her so...) where she posted the most gorgeous video of her having her new red lipstick applied. Her face- flawless. The red, called "Classic Red"- seemingly perfect. It's been a minute since I've bought a red lipstick and at under 20 bucks, I decided to give it a whirl. It's still not here yet but I bought it and then couldn't believe I did. Contributing to her success still makes me feel a little funny, and my beauty aesthetic is fairly far from Kim's so what was I doing? I know, I know. It's just lipstick. And a good red is a good red, regardless of who makes it. Plus it's almost Valentine's Day so a red lip feels, oh I don't know, so right now. That's smart marketing.

I'll wait and see how good it is when it arrives, and if you want to check it out, it's here. And I'm still me. I don't think I'm having an identity crisis but if I start getting major league hair extensions and wearing flesh colored bodysuits with leggings, send for help. 

Cause that's what's up this this seeing red of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in makeup and reality superstars. XO

Maven recommends: Hilma af Klint at the Guggenheim will get you in your gut

Good morning, Wednesday. Still here in my gym clothes, writing from my sofa and working on a million things at once. I love it. I'm happy Thank goodness. I'm enjoying being a shut in so very much. At some point I may go nuts, but I'm LOVING it right now.

So something I've noticed in the past year or so is an interest in the occult or witchcraft or astrology, even. I noticed a ton of holiday gifts this year centered around astrology (good gifts for Leos, best colors for Cancerians, etc.) and I literally received three witchy kits as gifts which included a smudge stick, some Palo Santo, and things like feathers to help bring good vibes into the home. I'm wondering if it's because of who's in the White House and the whole me too movement right now- and if women in particular are feeling the need for protection and to get into their power as much as they possibly can. And we all know the phrase "witch hunt" has been trending since Trump has been tweeting it nonstop. Interesting that.

I've always been fascinated by the positive force of something otherworldly- and some of you may know I have my own psychic abilities when I'm tapped in to them. I suppose we all do, really. I have always felt that for me, organized religion was not really where I found spirituality, because my intuition is my spirituality. When I'm fully committed to it, it will never steer me wrong.  The force is strong within me. Ha. And I think that women are drawn to things like witchcraft and astrology because intuition is a major feminine trait. I'm not at all suggesting men don't have it- but most of the women I know are guided by intuition and when they trust it, there's no stopping them.

So this past weekend I saw a show at the Guggenheim which confirmed all that I thought about intuition as a spiritual guide. If you have not yet been to the Hilma af Klint show, you must, must go. Like, literally fly into New York and go see it if you don't live here. And if you live here, go now. Today if you can. It's the coolest show I've seen in years. Her use of the color pink alone just gets me in my feelings in the best of ways.

 Hilma was a Swedish artist who is often called the mother of abstract art. She was born in the 1862 and died in 1941. Her paintings were a visual representation of spiritual ideas and visions she had. A physical manifestation of the spiritual realm. And good Lord- they are magnificent. She was part of a group of five female artists called Da Fem (I need four more ladies to form a group with that name, which I absolutely love) who shared her ideals. These ladies often held seances and were deeply in touch with something otherworldly.  She created works for an imagined temple- that they should only be shown there- and not coincidentally, the temple itself resembled the Guggenheim, so a more perfect setting for her work would be hard to find.  She was not well known in her lifetime, and even caveated that her paintings could not be shown until 20 years after her death. The show also includes a ton of sketches and notebooks and is a fascinating revelation into the life of a pure creative soul, guided by something bigger than her. I'm in love.

So what does this teach us or what was my takeaway from the show? Recently I've been doing a ton of work on myself- working with a coach to help uncover what's next for me. Needless to say, I'm well aware that I find my way by figuring out what I don't want. The work I did with the coach was amazing, but the elaborate business plan we crafted did not fly with me at the end of the day. Because I know in my heart that all I truly want to be is a writer. My intuition has always led me there. In my 20s I was never, ever in touch with my intuition (murky times) so it makes sense I lost my way when it came to writing back then. I literally did not write a word for most of that time. Cut to many years later, and here I am. Tapped in to where I need to be. I do feel as women get older, we get far more in touch with our intuition, because so many other things go out of whack- our bodies change, our tastes change, the way we think of ourselves change. But our gut becomes like a beacon. And I for one am paying attention. 

So whether you are a churchgoer, temple dweller, or sonic twirler, listen to that inner guide. It won't fail you if you trust it. And go deep to get to it. Seeing Hilma's show, an artist who left this earth a long time ago, made me feel so very present. And as I write this on my sofa with candles lit around me, I'm right where I need to be. And that's the best I can do right now, or ever, really.

Cause that's what's up this in touch kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in spiritual guidance and female intuition. XO

Fear and loathing in America, now with a side of euphoria.

Good morning, Tuesday. It's a gloomy day and probably the last of any semblance of warmth. Rest of the week looks brutal. It is winter after all...happy to be nesting.

And even though we're all hibernating, you've no doubt noticed of late that less people are drinking. It's pretty crazy considering the state of things, but it's true. I'm not sure if it's the millennials who are keeping it sober are supporting this trend but many of my non-millennial pals are tee totaling as well. Even I find myself succumbing to alcohol on rare occasions, or when I'm seated next to someone fun at a dinner party who keeps refilling my glass. Otherwise, i've left alcohol in the dust. Admittedly, watching the news these days makes me want to chloroform myself. But I digress. Because lots of us are just not drinking much.

According to CNBC consumption of beer, wine, and alcohol is down for the third year in a row in America. But that doesn't mean people won't seek other ways to alter their states, and I'm beginning to see a lot more stuff in the mindful space. And of course, the buzz around legalized Mary J is legitimizing pot use in a way. I don't know if new audiences are really going full tilt into weed world, but I do know a lot of people who already partake are feeling empowered and are far more casual about their usage than ever before. And CBD oil is everywhere and is being used for everything from anxiety to major pain- they're selling a salve at my barre studio that hardcore workout folks are swearing by for aches, pains, and soreness. 

Maybe it's that weed and drugs like Ahayuasca have perceived health benefits. Pot can help with pain and pms for instance, while a good Ahayuasca trip is said to open the mind and clear out past trauma and help with addiction issues.  If you're not familiar, Ahayuasca is a spiritual brew that is has high hallucinogenic properties. It's a traditional ceremonial tonic used by indigenous people in the Amazon. And it's now at a yoga studio near you- hush hush of course, but you can still go on a vision quest in Tribeca, dressed in all white, if you so choose.  Or of course you can go down to Kentucky, the setting for my new favorite show from Vice, "Kentucky Ahayuasca", where a former bank robber/prisoner with very little dental work is now the shaman-in-chief of a tripped out church where heroin addicts and trauma victims can come and transform their lives.  My friend and I were fascinated by this, but admitted we would prefer to do this at somewhere far more fabulous, like Amangiri, where we'd be clothed in beautiful white caftans with thin gold thread, while our supermodel-like spirit guides would gently dab our mouths of puke as we laid our heads on super high thread counted sheets while Alice Coltrane played softly in the distance. Fyre festival much? ;)

I'm also intrigued by a new category called Euphorics. The other day on an Insta stroll, I came across the brand Kin, a company whose tagline is "Euphorics for humankind" and whose hashtage states "#risewisely". Kin is a beverage composed of what seems to be something called Nootropics( GABA, phenibut, 5-HTP, tyrosine, and some other goodies)  and and the newly trendy adaptogens, a group of plants said to help "balance the body", according to the Kin site. My husband recently attended an event at the more poshly spiritual version of Wework, the Assemblage where adaptogen cocktails were served. He claims that during a group meditation, he went into a fairly trippy state thanks to said adaptogens. 

According to Kin's website, "Kin was born from the desire to unite all creators through meaningful connection. We believe in a night where social isn’t sinful and self-care doesn’t stop at sunset". Pithy for sure, also expensive (each bottle is $47) and also completely sold out unitl February. My trend hat has me predicting a big, big interest in non alcoholic beverages that serve a higher sort of purpose. Kin is clearly cashing in on the trend. Here's a review on Vogue.com. I have to check this out for sure. Oh and best of all? No hangover. 

With so much interest in mindfulness and purpose and things that bring you joy, I expect a big cultural shift towards more higher minded ways to unwind and relax.  Interesting that. I'm completely open to all of it- I've never been shy when it comes to better living through chemistry, so bring it on. WWHTD aka What would Hunter Thompson do? He'd probably ask for a side of raw ether; rumor has it it goes well with euphorics.

Cause that's what's up this I want a new drug kind of Tuesday in the 718, Yours, in healthy, happy trails. XO



Maven style file: When less is more, and more is more too

Good morning, Monday. Had a lovely breakfast with an old friend and now back at it, trying to get in the groove. Good weekend spent doing New Yorky things like museums, walks, and brunch with friends. All good. Now on with the work week.

So the couture shows in Paris. Blah blah blah, right? I mean- as a fashion nerd I can't help but gawk at them, and that Valentino show was surely one for the fashion books.  See image below. 

It was transcendent and beautiful and absolutely over the top in the best of ways. Dreamy clothes for the .000000001 percent.

And as a (not so) casual observer, I couldn't help but note the explosion of tulle all over the couture runways last week. It was the 80s all over again with frothy, fluffy confectionary dresses that could make your teeth hurt, as well as you wallet.  Love the Viktor & Rolf wink at the top of this post. Clothes with a sense of humor always make me smile. And as a thoroughly modern type,  I don't love a fussy dress. It does not work on me at all. But I do love that girly girl looks are everywhere, as are more modern silhouettes. Case in point at last night's SAG Awards. 

Two of my favorite looks felt very different in tone, but both so gorgeous. I always adore everything Emma Stone does on the red carpet. This look from Louis Vuitton was just the end. Modern, formal, and altogether perfect. And loving the darker red hair color- Megan Mullally sported a dark red do too and I very much approve.

On the other side of the spectrum was the marvelous Rachel Brosnahan, whose ice grey/blue Dior gown was so traditional, yet updated and modern but super feminine all at once. So stunning- the makeup, the hair, the earrings. I died. She really wears a dress so beautifully.

So regardless of which way you swing when it comes to style, there's something for you. And there's not one influence or one silhouette or one reference that we all want to emulate or copy. Instead, be girly. Be a bit more masculine. Be whatever you want to be. As fashion becomes more democratic by the hour, there's as much a place for couture powder puffs as there is for boiler suits. I like this. I like it a lot.

Today I passed by Wildfang on my way back from breakfast and admired the very androgynous pink jumpsuit in the window. I love that the very definition of female dress has caught up to the times. Well played.

Cause that's what's up this mode of a Monday in the 718. Yours, in having all the cake, and eating it too. XO

Turn off the news, and call me maybe.

Hiya, Friday. Had the chance to catch up with an old friend last night and it's truly amazing to me how easy it is to take up where you left off. Something to be said for that. Not sure what but it's a powerful thing. I feel very lucky to have such lasting connections in my life.

And on that note, I'm vibing very heavily into a frequency that is less than pleasant, but equally powerful. I've heard from a lot of my friends of late that they're hurting, and feeling alone and a little lost as the new year takes hold. This is certainly not uncommon for January, but it feels really heavy right now. As an empathetic person, I can't help but want to wrap my arms around everyone who needs a hug or a hand or a chat right now- I feel these things so deeply. And if you're in that boat, please reach out. I'm here to listen. Life is really tough right now. This government shutdown is hurting a lot of our own citizens deeply, and damn if that does not have an effect on every single one of us in some way. And if it's not upsetting you, regardless of what side you're on, I don't know what to say. It's just awful in every damn way.

I really think we need to help each other as much as we can right now. This is not all woo woo at all. But this whole every person for themselves model does not seem to bi working. I challenge you to find someone or something you can devote yourself to this weekend. Whether it's protesting or simply calling someone you know would love to hear from you or adopting an animal in need. Just do something. I believe that if we all stand together and do compassionate things, maybe we can tip the scales and change the frequency. Enough is enough. And for those feeling strong, self care this weekend could mean caring for someone else who needs it. Doing good things is a wonderful way to take care of yourself. When I was working on a project some time ago for Dress for Success, I realized the incredible potency of sharing stories that are hard and painful to tell, and the grace of hearing those stories and feeling compassion for people you know very little. And how asking for help and realizing they needed help was putting something very good into the world- because on the other end are people who are willing to lend a hand and bring some good into the world.

And don't worry if you're feeling down or lonely or a bit desperate right now. These are beyond trying times. But just know that asking for a hand or help when you need it is never a bad thing. I know it's hard. When I'm down I completely close up and don't want anyone near me. That's the Cancerian in me- I head straight for my little crab shell.  But we need more push/pull happening and the idea of asking for help and getting help may just help tilt that axis to something a little more pleasant in the future. Oh and turn off the news. Just turn it off. I decided to listen to "Exile on Main Street" this morning instead of watching CNN. I can't.  And you shouldn't either. It's just too much. My pal in the local UPS store in my neighborhood (no doorman at my casa so I see him a lot) says it's better to give yourself an hour and listen to the BBC News Hour and then be done with it. I'd have to agree- they're far less prone to dramatics than our media folk.

Cause that's what's up this help is available kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in reaching out and turning off the news. And keep going. XO



Stella, I love you. Now about my hair...

Good morning, Wednesday. Gloomy but warmer today in the BK.  The element of surprise was alive and well this morning when I spontaneously decided to take an early spin class which happened to have a sub which happened to make it a brutal class which happened to lead to a whole lot of unexpected extra level sweat.  OK then.

So as I was cooling down, I spotted this Burberry story in February British Vogue, shot by Willy Vanderperre and featuring my girl crush of all girl crushes, Stella Tennant. How do I love Stella? Let me count the ways. Ok I can't. Because I love her to infinity. So regal, so stylish, so traditionally beautiful but not all at once. And that HAIR. How can you not love a Bowie/Stella kind of vibe like this? Over the top? Yars. Fabulous? Uh huh. Totally. Which gives me pause. 

Because I've been trying to grow my hair for a minute or two now and to do that, I simply throw it back and off my face so I can forget about it. A recent cut got me to that place I love more than anything- the shaggy Keith Richards vibe I'm always after. But any time I see Stella, it makes me want to hack it all off. As a long time short haired lady, growing my hair feels futile. But I persist. Because change is good. And I need change. But Stella...argh. You get it. You get me. And yea, I'm not Stella Tennant. But channeling her is always a very cool idea.  I could never do that slicked back vibe but that short hair is just the most chic.

Hoping this is my biggest drama of the week ps. I'm feeling in my zone lately and don't need any setbacks, of the follicle variety or otherwise. Cause that's what's up this STELLAAAAAA of a Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in to trim or not to trim.