tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:/posts the world according to sherimaven 2019-08-17T10:32:52Z Sheri Rosenberg tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1445010 2019-08-16T18:49:10Z 2019-08-17T10:32:52Z Hey, ladies. Go easy this weekend. (And beyond).

Good afternoon, Friday. TGIF. Been a long week and happy for a little weekend getaway. I just wanted to share some thoughts from Ladyland this muggy afternoon.

Women are so hard on themselves. It doesn't matter how old you are.

Last weekend, I was in the Hamptons and overhead at lunch a group of four young women in their 20s opining over chopped salads. Since people in their 20s talk VERY LOUD these days, I heard every single thing they said. So much so that David and I became that couple who eats in silence, because we were both riveted to their conversation.

And that conversation was an endless dissection of diets and food. And whether they "deserved" ice cream after lunch. And Keto, and having to eat these weird crackers with everything (I've eaten them, full disclosure. They're awful). Each one of them talked about food and dieting and weight loss through the entire meal. One of them said a Diet Coke felt like a "treat". Each of them had on expensive workout clothes. Then the conversation turned to whether or not they were going to have "Turkey Tuesday". I don't know what that is but imagine it's slices of turkey, rolled up. No carbs, naturally. Then I watched one of the women house four sausages, in between bites of the diet crackers. It was absolutely obscene. They literally spoke of nothing else. 

Then last night I caught up with a few girlfriends. One had just turned 50. After a few cocktails, she looked around the table as if to brace herself to ask the question "Could you recommend a good plastic surgeon"? Um. Hmm. 

I'm not a woman who knows plastic surgeons, ps. I, of course, know who all the fancy ones are with Park Avenue addresses because one just knows. But I'm not one for botox or anything like that so not sure why she thought I would be the arbiter of such things. And further, I couldn't believe she was asking me this. This is a woman who pickles things. And gets her hands dirty. But somehow admits she's been watching too much "RHOBH" while spending far too much time alone in her remote country house. I honestly couldn't believe she was asking me this because a) it felt off brief and b) she looked absolutely fabulous. Glowy skin. Zero wrinkles. She was seeing stuff that wasn't there. But it's amazing what we see as women when we look in the mirror. 

And lest you think I'm anti-plastic surgery, I'm not. I just think women are way too tough on themselves- regardless of their ages. We have so many wins and accomplishments- for instance, my friend just landed her absolute dream job and even though she's probably happier than she's been, she's still unsatisfied somehow. 

Another friend of mine is single in her 40s and, after revealing she spent several thousand dollars as a plastic surgery pin cushion, told me "I don't' know what it's like out there for single women of a certain age". I'm glad I don't. I truly do. Because if I had to stick needles in my face to swipe left or right, I'd be bummed. I mean- I'm all for self-improvement, but I believe it's all completely out of control. This particular woman is a highly successful self-made person. She's spiritual, fit, and in wonderful health. She dresses beautifully and has a pretty incredible life story and she's sexy as hell. So why on Earth is she so fixated on her face? 

At a time when women are achieving so much and have been through so much and are threatened by so much, can we stop being so tough on ourselves when it comes to how we look? I have never been "perfect" so why would I expect to be at this age? Listen- talk to me in a few years. I may change my tune.  But I doubt it. 

Going into the weekend I wanted to share this post and ask all of us card-carrying females to hit pause on beating ourselves up and rejoice in how far we've all come. I'm not judging people who get surgery or botox or any of those things but don't go changin'. I love you just the way you are. And you should too.

Cause that's what's up this loving Friday in the 212. Yours, in keeping it real and taking it easy. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1444266 2019-08-13T15:33:45Z 2019-08-13T15:36:53Z Are you cut out for freelance? Ask your network.

Good morning, Tuesday.  Cloudy and humid in New York. Thank the Lord for keratin treatments. Truly the best thing one can do to fight the frizz all Summer long.

So I haven't been talking too, too much about work lately but wanted to share a few thoughts on freelancing. As you all know, I've been at this freelance game for a while and have no interest in stopping. I like the lifestyle and although it's challenging and nail-biting at times, I enjoy it. But a word of caution for those who are thinking of going freelance- if you can't, off the top of your head, think of 10 people you can call and inquire about potential work, don't go freelance, you're not ready.

Because the most important thing about being a freelancer is the strength of your network. Back at the height of my production days, I was lucky enough to have worked at an incredible place for seven years, after which many of the friends I made there went to other places, and hired me to work with them when I was ready to freelance. It was a dream. Truly.

I've noticed that if you apply to gigs you find online, the rate of return is slim to none. I almost never hear back from gigs I hunt for online, even when the fit seems perfect. The odds are very slim you're going to get work by blindly answering an ad on Indeed. Or at least I have found that to be true. What really works is utilizing your network.  It is your biggest ace. You need to go deep into your brain and summon up the abundance by thinking of each and every person you know who may need your services, or at least direct you to someone else who can. Personal recommendations are a huge thing, by the way. Another great way into places you'd otherwise never find.  And I realize my years of production experience always had me in that connected mindset- having to call someone for something 24/7 became my normal, and it's never really left me.

 If you see a posting for a job, look closely and see if you know any people who either work at the place or if your extended network has connections there. It's really the only way. For instance, I found a recent gig through seeing a job posting and then noting that the person posting the gig was good friends with a few random friends from my early days in the city. I reached out and said we had good friends in common and I hoped we could connect. It worked. I got the gig.

We all know how powerful networking is. I think we often associate that term with something that requires a nametag and shaking hands with people in a ballroom at the Hilton, but it's far from that. Utilizing your people is a big part of this freelance hustle, and if you're not good at that, don't go there. 

At the same time, I had the unique challenge of creating a completely new network for myself as a writer. Since all of my ad contacts knew me as a producer, they wouldn't think of me for a writing project (ridiculous, and I've written endlessly on the topic), I had to find some new people to support me. I'm lucky I'm wired for connection. It's something I truly enjoy and I need to keep getting out there and meeting people. It's vital to survival when you're a lone wolf. Ah, the thrill of the hunt...

The freelance economy is certainly booming, but make sure you're cut out for it before you jump ship. And if anyone out there is looking to party with me and my words, have at it.  Thankfully I'm busy but always looking to expand my network. My hustle is boundless.

Cause that's what's up this socially inclined Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in connecting the dots and making a living. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1443900 2019-08-12T14:30:28Z 2019-08-12T14:32:59Z Hold up. Is J.Crew great again?

Good morning, Monday. Quite the weekend.  I went to see Bryan Ferry Friday night amidst a sea of baby boomers and then off to the Hamptons on Saturday to see the opening of the Helen Frankenthaler show, more on that later in the week.  But as the weekend was winding down and I was perusing the interweb, I happened upon J.Crew. And let me say- it's been a minute or two since I've paused to look at anything they've been doing since Jena Lyons left. I know she was polarizing but I was and still am a big fan of her quirky style. But I digress.

Actually, if I'm being honest, I happened upon a J.Crew print dress that popped up in my feed last week and it gave me pause for its cuteness. And my further investigation led me down a J.Crew rabbit hole last night and dare I say- J.Crew may very well be back. Under the new design chops of Chris Benz (he's designing women and kids), he of Bill Blass fame, we may just have a hit on our hands.

So much to love under his tutelage. Here are ten pieces to buy right now, and that I'd wear here, there, and everywhere. Oh, and good news- seems like the sizing is fairly inclusive. These are things that I really love but plenty more to choose from on the site.

This pull-on slip skirt is divine. I love the petal pink and would wear this all the time with a pretty sweater like it's shown here. What a great transitional piece for Fall when you still want to show a bit of tan gam.

This little sweater/blazer is divine. And in my favorite print. Love how it's styled with double denim vibes.

These resin earrings give me major Rachel Comey vibes. Love 'em.

This blouse has such a great vibe. I honestly can't decide what color I want the most. I want them all truly. But that green.

And this long sweater blazer thing is gorgeous. I love how this is styled. So minimal chic for those concerned that J.Crew can feel too fussed up. Lovely.

This high necked tunic dress is totally Isabel Marant like but much more reasonable. Love it in black or bottle green.

This shirtwaist dress is very elegant and pretty/crisp as we wind down the Summer. 

 And the shoes. Holy merde. So many goodies.  I love these mules in white. 

And these fancy slingbacks are super duper chic. I would love them with rolled-up jeans, a blazer, and a tank or a dress with a full skirt.

And wouldn't you know I've been searching for the perfect, no-frills, nondescript tote to schlep from gig to gig with? I love this one from Rains. it's so good and easy and minimal. Perfect for the city.

I have said time and time again that although retail seems to be on the wane, good clothes are not. I believe strongly in the power of good clothes to transform a brand- and exciting stuff appears to be happening over at the Crew shop. Lovely. And bonus points for much of it being on sale.

Oh and that cheeky lippy sweater at the top of the post? Link to buy here. A shrunken cashmere cutie for $138 is kind of awesome.

Cause that's what's up this American classic of a Monday in the 212. Yours, in elevated basics and style standouts. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1442744 2019-08-09T13:25:21Z 2019-08-11T12:33:37Z What not to wear, the Maven edition

Good morning, Friday. It's such a pretty day today and I don't have to be anywhere until 1 pm and I'm just so happy to be home with the dog as the sun shines bright in the sky and the weekend begins.

So I'm part of a group of a Facebook group for women of a certain age that veers towards snark and funny witticisms most of the time and is very rarely a place to share fashion tips. But yesterday one of the women in the group posted that she would never, under any circumstances, wear leopard print. Which made me think- how different we all can be when it comes to what we wear.  Because for me, leopard is a neutral. I own scads of it and have always felt great wearing it- I mean- how chic is Kate moss above? Iconic. And then I started thinking about my "no way Joses" when it comes to what I wear. Here's a list of five things that, though right for others, are so not right for me.

A polo or rugby shirt. Strong no to this look for me. It's a cute, preppy, tomboy look for some women. When I wear anything with that type of polo collar, I look like Mrs. Tumbletee, my less than feminine high school gym teacher. It just doesn't' work for me. At all.

Shorts. I have good legs. Or at least they are a part of me that I can easily get in shape when I need to. But I ended my relationship with shorts some time ago and never really looked back. I do love them on others (how cute is the pic above?) - particularly the paper bag variety I've seen around town this summer. But on me? Nah. Give me a minidress over shorts any day. I have no problem wearing something short, just not shorts. Capiche?

Wedges. Ok, this is one I don't really love on anyone if I'm being real. I will never, ever forget the middle of the night car ride back from a shoot in Long Beach when my creative director at the time went off on why women should not wear wedges, and I have to say- he was right. I find them really unattractive. Plus walking on them is so precarious. The only wedge I don't fully mind is a small one on an espadrille. Other than that, I'm a strong no on them. Unflattering. Thank you. Next.

Dark toes. I get my toes done all year round. Possibly because I lived in Miami for so long where toes were always exposed. And though many New York girls go dark when it comes to cold weather pedicures, I simply can't. It looks horrible on me, except on my fingernails. I either need pinkish toes or bright toes. That's it. Oh and never red toes. That's just not me.

Lilly Pulitzer. This one is fairly obvious if you know me but me in Lilly? Just plain silly. Can you even picture it? I would potentially wear something vintage and do love the story of how she started her brand, but truly, no. I am not built for Lilly and Lilly ain't built for me and that's that.  A bit too Kappa Kappa Whatever for me. I do love a print, ps. Just not necessarily a preppy one. In fact, LP is the antithesis of who I am, style-wise, and that's the truth. Keep your cotillion chic. It's not for me.

Curious to hear what your big no's are when it comes to how you dress. It's fascinating to get older for many reasons, but one of the biggest lightbulbs is knowing what looks good on you and owning it. So yea, leopard. I will always love her. And that's that. But Lilly? Nope. I guess the big takeaway here is I am not a preppy girl. I have always liked a preppy look on men, but it does not work on me. No way. PS- classic and preppy are different. I wear pearls all the time and love classic pieces like a navy blazer, great jeans, and perfect ballet flats.

Oh and one more- long hair. That ain't me. I can't do it.

Cause that's what's up this well dressed Friday in the 718.  Know thyself. Yours, in what not to wear. XO







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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1442523 2019-08-08T17:32:19Z 2019-08-08T19:02:46Z Paying it forward and throwing it back: Lauren Hutton for Strivectin

Good afternoon, Thursday.

As most of you know, my focus on this blog has shifted to something more of the moment or at least the current moment I'm in. 

I believe strongly that ageism has become a front and center conversation because of some awesome trailblazers who refuse to be defined by their age. Ad folks all know Cindy Gallop and how much of a pioneer and reinventrix she is. And my friend Irma Zandl is a national treasure when it comes to still knowing what's cool, and teaching us how to be fiscally responsible so we too can go into 50+ land in any way we want. And then, of course, I stumbled upon the cover of In Style for September, where the very beautiful Amber Valletta is rocking that iconic Versace safety pin dress like the badass boss she is. I can't handle it. In a good way.

So it was with great pleasure I got to work on a launch with my friends at StriVectin, the skincare brand I regularly work with,  to address ageism head-on, with an absolute icon. Ladies and gentleman (for the one man reading this ;), I give you Lauren Hutton, who they boldly chose as the new global ambassador of their brand.

And here's the thing. What I love about Lauren besides her insanely iconic American effortlessness and her gorgeous gap-toothed grin is her moxie. She can rap like Ferlinghetti on a hot tin roof or speak with great candor about the ground she broke when she became the first model to secure a million-dollar contract with Revlon. And what's even more fabulous is- ya. She's got a real face. A beautiful real face but a real face nonetheless. It's got lines and roadmaps to a life well-lived.  I love that she looks how she has always looked, and even better. For me, I support style expressions of all kinds, but Lauren knows what suits her. She always has. And she hasn't turned to caftans or prints or wacky glasses. She shows up in a white tee-shirt and a navy blazer and some killer shoes with that amazing vibe and it's game over, kids. She's magical. Truly. I also love that her hair, a signature,  is medium length and beautifully sun-kissed in terms of its hue. She's not going gray and that's a-ok. Because that's the point- as a woman who's aging, you have choices. You can color your hair or let it all go. You can get the botox or skip it in favor of some great products. You can look at your accomplishments and realize you're not nearly done yet. Also, she's wrestled an alligator and came face to face with a snake that looked like Joan Didion. I mean...thank goodness for women like Lauren. 

And I think Lauren had the right idea all along. She worked to fund endless adventures to far-flung climes. She's unapologetically sexy and is not afraid of it. It was so cool to work on this project and I love how the compass is calibrating to a more thoughtful and authentic conversation around age. And inspirational to boot.

So Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. All day. Since it's Thursday, here's some throwbacks. But I particularly love how she looks now. She continues to show what it means to be a true, natural woman. More power to her and more power to us all for owning who we are. Oh and bonus points for loving hats. They are a girl's best friend. Know that.

And that's what's up this change is in the air kind of Thursday in the 212. Never be afraid to be exactly who you are. What could be more beautiful than that?  XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1441732 2019-08-06T14:21:03Z 2019-08-06T14:23:44Z Maven recommends: A basics line to live, love, and wear

Good morning, Tuesday. I have a big launch party to attend tonight- more on that tomorrow. Excited to share what I've been working on the past few months. It all culminates tonight.

Thanks for indulging my feels yesterday. I was overwhelmed and nd desperately needed an escape from this soupy city. Now that I got to phone a friend after work, get a good night's sleep and hit a spin class this morning, I feel better. Back to basics, some may say.

And speaking of basics, I need to share with you my favorite new clothing line of late. I just love, love, love it.  Their website boasts "uniforms for individuals", a sentiment I appreciate and I think a whole lot of others will too.

Alex Mill is the brainchild of two former J.Crew and Madewell mishpocha, and one of the founders is the son of Mickey Drexler so they know a thing or twelve about elevated basics.  These are the clothes the Gap should be making. For real. I love everything about everything here. There's fabulous utilitarian chic jumpsuits, peppy striped shirtdresses for late Summer jaunts, and of course- super basics like soft tee shirts and oversized boyfriend shirts. 

This Swiss dot tuxedo shirt is high on my list for Fall, as is that awesome white shirtdress- love how they've styled it over jeans.  One giant miss for this new standout is the lack of size inclusion. I feel like these clothes would look fabulous on women of all shapes and sizes so why not guys? I just read that over 67% of women in America wear over a size 14 in clothing. So why not bring all of this coolness to everyone? 

Also, the men's stuff is not quite there for me- not quite "cool" enough but am curious to know how the khakis fit and if the tee shirts are soft. David may have to go for a test run. They have a new store in Soho at 63 Greene Street between Spring and Broome. As for price, I don't see much for over 200 bucks, but it's pricier than the Gap, so hoping the quality reflects the cost.

I also love how they do a capsule called "Alex Mill Editions" which are limited run pieces in reclaimed materials. Smart. I love this custom dyed sweatshirt. They are having a dye class on Thursday at their space but are currently sold out. Looking forward to seeing what they have at the space next.

What do you think of this new line and is it just me that wants it all? These are clothes meant to be worn over and over. Are you watching, Gap? Make these types of things and bring people back to your brand. I've been saying fix the damn clothes for years and stop throwing money at advertising. I think Alex Mill is getting it right on most fronts- great design, sustainable materials, in-store experiences. Now they just need to extend their sizing. I absolutely think this brand is poised for success.

Cause that's what's up this American classic of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in simple silhouettes. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1441373 2019-08-05T16:06:57Z 2019-08-05T16:06:57Z August in New York (and the wanderlust of my mind)

Good almost afternoon, Monday. It's hard to write or think after this weekend. It's time for this country to stop saying "this isn't who we are". Because it very much is who we are. And we need prolific, Nobel Prize-worthy sea change.  It's hard to take. Extraordinary times. 

And to top it off, New York in August. Ugh. At the beginning of the Summer, I'm like "hooray Summerinthecity". By the end, I'm like "omg Summerinthemotherfuckingcity". 

Every time I am stuck in this town in August, I feel a sense of depletion and perhaps a smattering of defeat. Although it's beyond lovely to have what seems like the entire city to yourself most weekends, it's hot. And a little smelly. And there's a seasonal fatigue hanging in the air as we wait for the air to crisp and the leaves to turn and it feels a bit flatlined in terms of the typical sense of possibility one feels when living here.  I just found myself fantasizing about the French countryside and road trips and copious wine and earthy food.  And then I switched to laying in cool water somewhere, destination unknown. And then back to France. 

There should be a rule that we all need to retreat in August. Like the Europeans do. Otherwise, when left to my own devices, I'll just sit here and bum myself out (make myself feel better?) listening to Nico's "These Days" while I work. I go out walking...

But the good news about New York in August is surely September. Because it's just around the corner. And that whole rentrée vibe takes over in the city and it's almost time for sweaters and you order a hot coffee instead of an iced and then suddenly you're missing Summer in a wistful way that's poetic but you can't wait for Fall. Sigh. I love the seasons, don't you?

I just wanted to share my feels this (almost) afternoon. I'm glad I spent a week at the beach and all but it's August in New York and I can honestly say I'd like to be somewhere "other". I'm tired of all the awful news. I'm tired of the heat messing up my makeup. I'm just plain tired. Don't look at me.

Cause that's what's up this sleepy, sultry Summer day in the 212. Yours, in seasonal disorders and such. Where to next?  XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1440407 2019-08-02T14:42:05Z 2019-08-02T18:41:53Z On choosing a creative path...

Good morning, Friday. Let me start by saying that this week kicked my ass. Completely. I have no ass left. None. 

So as I continue to explore the evolution of my career, there are moments. Moments where you feel like you can't get anything right. Moments where people's obsession and agony over every freaking word makes you feel insane. Moments where you wish you were independently wealthy, interspersed with remembering how grateful you are for having work in the first place. All of those moments.

But as I continue to grow my creative career path, there are some inevitable bumps in the road. One of those bumps that has me reaching for a seat belt is vulnerability. I have never experienced such a deep sense of it in my work as I do now. What I mean by this is that although writing on behalf of brands is not "personal", it still feels very close to my heart and soul. My writing does. And when people rip it apart and agonize over my words it's tough sometimes. Very tough. I have learned through this process to never get too attached or fall in love with my ideas. It's not that I don't stand up for things when they are great, but I have learned what's worth fighting for and to only fight for the right things. But even when I wave the white flag, that doesn't mean I don't get a little beat up from the battle sometimes. At times, it's all just too obtuse. And exhausting.

Thing is, everyone's a writer. We write emails, posts, memos to staff. So everyone has an inevitable bias when it comes to words. It's entirely subjective and you could go around and around a million times over one sentence, mission statement, or headline.  It can rip your heart out.  And though everyone's a writer, being creative is a whole different thing. Completely.  PS this rule applies to most creative things now- take photographers for instance.  We are all endlessly snapping iPhone pics and thinking we're Avedon. There's some great stuff out there, but it complicates things for people who do this for a living. 

I just wanted to share how challenging it is to be creative for hire. And to get paid for it. Every job is hard and though this one is more fun than most, it can feel gnarly.  It's humbling to do work that is close to your heart and spirit. I'm not saying copywriting for brands is a heart thing for me, but my writing sure is.

That's why I need to dedicate much of my free time to writing my own stuff. As I do here. I appreciate the finesse of writing professionally, but I don't want to lose what made me love writing in the first place. And that's my voice. My POV. My words. Me me me basically. ;) My gratitude knows no bounds for having been able to shift gears and follow my passion, but you can't forget about why you did it in the first place. I'm tough enough to take the heat. But on occasion, I need to get out of the kitchen.

Hey So on occasion, I have to take a pause and remind myself not to get too down when it all goes to shit. Because it often does. But then it all somehow works out and you hit a home run and it's all ok again. I'm tapped into my most creative side right now and I'm willing to take the good with the bad because it's totally and completely worth it. And I realize it's all very much part of the process. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Well, maybe for my own novel or screenplay. 

Cause that's what's up this putting it all out there kind of Friday in the 212. Yours, in what are words worth? XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1439090 2019-07-30T14:34:15Z 2019-07-31T09:21:21Z A day late, but not a lipstick short

Good morning, Tuesday. I know I'm late to the party with this lipstick post (yesterday was a national lipstick holiday), but no matter. I wanted to write about some boy stuff yesterday. So here's one for my girls. That pic is by Marilyn Minter above, and don't you just? So stunning.

But great photography aside, lIpstick is like another world to me. I have a love/hate relationship with it. At times I think it looks vulgar- not on anyone else, mind you- just me. At other times I feel like it's too "makeup" and not really my style, even though I'm prone to dramatic eyes for daytime. Something about lipstick can just feel so artificial, and for me, the challenge is finding one that is like my lip color, but a little bit better. I tend to stick to rosy hues- I've talked a million times about my love for Dolce Vita from Nars- it's still one of the best neutrals out there. Soft and pretty and barely there. I also love the neutrals from Charlotte Tillbury- for a redhead (and right now I am Run Lola red and loving it)  she really gets the lip color thing- I'm digging on Stoned Rose big time right now.  The name alone...

But I digress. Because I like a bargain as much as the next girl and cheap lipstick is often just that. But I've found two formulas of the same genre that I like, and both are under 20 bucks. Read on.

Let me start by saying that the word "matte" terrifies me.  I have always been someone that preferred a dewy visage to a matte one. And when it comes to lipstick, I've always gone more gloss or sheer than not. Matte lipstick says high pigment to me, which is something I'm not that interested in. But on Prime Day (again late to the party) last week or so, I saw AOC's red lipstick was on sale so I went to check it out, hoping for a color that would keep me from looking like I'm in drag.

I did find a nice, nude neutral and man is this a MATTE look. But damn if this lipstick doesn't stay on a long time. I like this idea- because another thing I hate about lipstick is reapplying it. And at 16 bucks, it turns out it was a good investment, even though its back to its regular price of 22 dollars now. But the winner in the long-wearing lipstick game is none other than Sephora's own brand. I am crazy about this lipstick, and it's only 14 dollars.  I put this lipstick on in the am, and I swear it's still there when I get home at night, and even after I smother my dog with kisses. 

My favorite colors are Marvelous Mauve and my favorite, favorite Rose Redux. If you love a dusty rose vibe, omg. So gorgeous for real. 

Oh and in case you too have mattephobia, I'll tell you my secret. Make sure your lips are far from dry. And the best way to do that is to go for the Laneige lip mask at night. Dry lips will never happen when you use this product, even in the dead of winter. Y'all know this is an iconic maven pick. I've been using it regularly for a few years now.

So that's my little lipstick homage for the moment. And until next year most likely. 

Cause that's what's up this lip service of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in kisses and kisses. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1438557 2019-07-29T14:00:22Z 2019-07-29T14:00:22Z Once upon a time at the movies...loving on Brad, Leo, and Quentin T.

Good morning, Monday. I had a week off at the beach which was not without challenges. I will never make myself so available again when I'm off the grid. The downside of modern life reared its ugly head this week when work came knocking and I couldn't fully power down. Merde. My own fault most likely, but still. It's hard.  I ended up with a decent tan but not as much relaxation as I would have liked. Oh well. There's always next Summer.  (Yea yea don't cry for me, Argentina...I get it).

So this weekend back in the city I went to see the new Tarantino, "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood". And let me tell you- I missed Tarantino. So very much. The movie was everything I had hoped for and more. Hollywood in the late 60s? Fantastic.  Wardrobe by Ariane Phillips? Yes, more, please. The gorgeous, sexy curves of Los Angeles by car with the radio blaring? Um, yea. Indeed. Yup.

But most of all my friends, Brad Pitt. And Leo. Always Leo. But Brad.

Truth be told, I've found my feelings for Brad Pitt troublesome throughout the years. Is he a good actor? Do I like him? Do I like his blonde, pretty boy thing? I mean, I loved him in "Fight Club".  And "Thelma and Louise" was a wonderful intro to his gorgeousness. But there were many films where I found him annoying, irritating. His use of food as props. His lack of perceived depth. And yea, I know every straight guy on Earth is ok with saying Brad Pitt is hot. Because he is. And if Brad is hot, this movie was equatorial in scale when it comes to his Pittness. I loved him so much.

The Redford vibe. The moccasins. The great tee shirts. The weathered texture of his face and his movements. This was an amazing testament to why he's amazing. And I'm not even mentioning Leo because hot damn if Leonardo DiCaprio is not always a gift. I adore him and as a washed-up western film star, he was stellar. His talents are tremendous, and he too has grown into his face; less pretty boy now and more expressive.  Watching them both onscreen was pure joy. 

We talk so much about women aging that we take for granted men age too. Now before you throw your bra at me, let me say- I get it. Men don't get dinged for aging, they become more "distinguished". I know all of this. But seeing actors from my generation coming fully into their own is inspiring- male or female. And with Keanu's newfound success, there's room for a few more at the table. And it's wonderful. For all of us.

If you're looking for a bit of your own inspiration, go see this film. It's terrifically Tarantino and fun as Summer movies can and should be. Is Tarantino the feminist hero that everyone seems to be looking for nowadays? Nope. He isn't. Margot Robbie's Sharon Tate is not wholly dimensional shall we say. But his undying love for Hollywood is beautiful to watch. And fun. More, please.

So today let's hear it for the boys. It's rare we say that nowadays. But I'm gonna say it today.

Cause that's what's up this all dudes love Brad Pitt kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in much-needed bro time. PS I need that tee-shirt Brad's sporting above. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1433549 2019-07-17T15:07:41Z 2019-07-24T05:26:27Z A birthday post from the birthday girl

Good morning, Wednesday. No way around it- today's my birthday. And I'm feeling the feels.

Supposedly some craziness in Capricorn is making me emotional and I'll admit- I'm a bit of a puddle today. Not sad, necessarily. Just emotional.  I hate the cliche of being introspective on one's birthday, but it's unavoidable. One thing that keeps coming up for me is the notion of nurture. Or what it means to feel nurtured.

For me, nurturing myself always meant buying myself lovely clothes, shoes, skincare. It could also mean drinking too much or eating too much or indulging just too much I have always been a bit of a hedonist/pleasure-seeker so that's a slippery slope for me. Because true nourishment/nurturing of body and soul comes from taking care of yourself. And when you start eating right, for instance, it may feel like deprivation but it's really what you need to feel your best and be your best. And the constant bombardment of Instagram and Amazon Prime Day and an endless loop of emails promoting a hyper manic sales cycle, you can't help but feel manipulated by all of the messaging.  Like, maybe I really do need those Gucci shoes. Because they're discounted.  And yea, you should buy the shoes sometimes. But not all the time. For me to feel nurtured, it's not about having less a la Marie Kondo, it's just about spending less and having more time, money, and security. That's real nourishment. This is the shit you realize as you get older. Wild, right? Maybe I really don't need to be the girl with the most cake...

They say your cells and wiring change every 7 years. I'm at the end of a pivotal 7-year cycle and I can absolutely feel the changes coming. It's almost a non-negotiable now to live a more authentic life. And some lifestyle changes come with that. As do staff changes. I can no longer tolerate people that deplete me. There are levels of course. But I have to honor the fact that I'm an empathic, highly sensitive woman. And when those frequencies battle my own, see ya. I can't. And I won't. 

I've been dedicated to writing my own stuff more and more and that will be a huge focus for me for the next several years and beyond. I've broken ground on a whole new website/blog and I'll be sharing that with all of you come September. I'm feeling great about all of this and am strong in my intentions.

When I'm on a mission, I'm on a mission. And my friends, I am on a major mission.  Change is always scary for me but when I'm ready, I'm ready. I've ripped off a ton of band-aids this year. And now it's time to heal. Very grateful for this chance, and this time of life. I've never felt more connected to my deepest, happiest self. HIppie shit or no hippie shit it's true. I like to think that this year, blowing out the candles means more than wishing for something new- it means blowing out the old stuff I don't need to clear the way for moving forward.

Oh and here are a few things about my style that I'm seeing as the clock nears 50. (Not there yet. Yikes. Almost). Let's call this section "not intos" as in "no longer into it".  I think there are so many rules we subscribe to women of a certain age, and I'm having none of them. You'll see what I mean:

I'm not into high heels. I haven't been in a long time but those days are long gone. Long. I need to feel like I can move, run, and above all, be comfortable. That's that.

I'm not into anything overly dainty. It's funny- I've always loved very dainty jewelry and although I still wear my tiny star of David every day, I'm into bigger pieces of jewelry. Not more expensive, that's not what I'm staying. Just larger in scale, substantial if you will. That's where I'm at. Dainty feels too much like a little girl right now. And I'm far from that place.

I'm not into shapeless clothes. There was a time over the past several years that I wore clothes that felt potato-sack like. I'm talking to you, COS and stores of that ilk. I know when women get older, they tend to gravitate towards this look, and it is extremely chic. But because of my rebellious nature, I'm going the other way. I'm wearing shorter things. I'm wearing more body-skimming things. I'm into looks that feel a little sexier somehow and show the shape, and more importantly, honor the body I'm in.  That's what I'm in the mood for, and it has little to do with being skinny, fat, or anything else. I'm just in the mood for less Eastern bloc attire.  This is counter to what most people tell you about getting older but screw 'em. I still love some kaftan realness, though. Don't worry. I'm not crazy.

I'm not into shrinking violets. I know this may be hard for you to believe. But truth be told, I'm shy. Very. Lately, I've been feeling the need to not shy away from how I am feeling. To advocate for what I think is right and fair. Oh, and to dye my hair bright red. That too. Loud and proud I guess. That's where I am. Because of that, I do retreat from time to time. But I'm a Cancer. That's just what we do.

I'm not into rules. I love clothes. I always will. But I hate formality. And it's getting worse as I get older. I hate a fussy hairdo. I hate anything that is too "just right". I like things a little messy. Much like life. And when it comes to formal occasions, I'm going default style. A tuxedo jacket and pants. A simple dress. That's it. Keeping it simple when it comes to formal times. And then going big whenever the heck I feel like it. Like a Simone Rocha tulle dress with my Gazelles. That kind of thing. I'm into that. 

So that's my birthday post for you. Onward and such. Busy day today. Looking forward to celebrating with pals tonight at a favorite old haunt. Thanks for all the bday wishes. Love to you all and thanks for being in my life. Cause that's what's up this blowing out the candles kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in onward marching, with a bit of Alice in Wonderland because I remain "curiouser" and "curiouser" for what's to come. XO






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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1431320 2019-07-11T15:29:57Z 2019-07-11T15:29:58Z Can powerful women be stylish? It's complicated ( or is it?).

Good morning, Thursday. I'm in an office in a caftan and I'm a-ok with that.

Which got me to thinking- the way we dress. For work. Such a thing. A recent Facebook debate on a friend's page inspired me to write this post about how we focus so much on the way women look. We're fixated on it. You know why? Because the way women look is super intriguing. And why should we take that away?

Now listen up. Lest you think I'm being anti-feminist, I am not in any way. I am not saying the way women look should be some sort of harsh judgment or should overpower a conversation on competence, intelligence, or general awesomeness. Not at all. But as someone who loves clothes and has pathologically studied style my entire life, I'm not favoring drab clothing just to be taken seriously. F that.  And if I want to make a statement, I'll make a statement. And I'm self-aware enough to take risks from time to time. That's just my vibe. Like the office caftan for instance. I'm owning it.  Yea I am a creative professional which allows me greater freedom and for that, I am extraordinarily grateful.

But I digress.  Let's talk about women in politics. AOC's red lip for one. Or the white caped look she wore to the State of the Union. That was intentional. Very intentional. And that red lip is not a shrinking violet move. To me, it says take me seriously, lipstick and all. She owns her ideals and her look and that's fantastic.  Why do we have .to deny our femininity to be taken seriously? Elizabeth Warren's no-nonsense style suits her just perfectly. Because she's a no-nonsense kind of woman and that's that.  And Kamala's style suits her too- strong, confident, don't fuck with me, fellas. More of that.

Further, the women's soccer team. I happened to watch the awards ceremony on TV (where our mayor cheaply inserted himself into the conversation around pay as he also reminded us of his Presidential run- #cheapshot) where that amazing group of ladies celebrated in ripped up jeans and tee shirts. Later on, the ESPYs were broadcast, and these girls were glam to death. Megan Rapinoe, my new girl crush (me and everyone else) was wearing the lowest blazer with nothing underneath and looked sexy as hell. And I loved it. All the girls came out to the yard and showed that they can be confident, strong, and stylish. Some more traditionally feminine, some less so, but all 100% woman. I can't even handle how inspiring those women are. Get off your ass, pro soccer and pay them NOW.

People always say why don't they talk about the way the men look when it comes to politics? Well, I say give us something to talk about. I think the whole point of politics on the male side is to look kind of middle of the road- not too flashy or "too" anything really. Beto's casualness is a nod to Obama's cool swagger, but really not so interesting. People say Obama had style, to me he had swag. The most stylish male president of all time was absolutely JFK. Hands down. If men in politics are judged more for their character, it's because they don't put fashion first.  I don't want to stereotype and say women do all of the time, but what's wrong with those of us that really like clothes and expressing ourselves through how we look? Not a damn thing.

I know this is a time for women to be unhinged and unnerved and pissed off. I'm mad too. Beyond mad. But I also think it's ok for women to acknowledge that style and dress and the way we look is important. If we want it to be. And that doesn't take anything away from the other stuff. Because today's women are the full package. Whether in Louboutins or Nikes or anything in between. 

Let's not squash that. And if people want to talk about how we look, let them. We'll be busy kicking ass and taking names. See ya on the other side. Now, where's my lipstick?

Cause that's what's up this turned out kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in best dressed and saluting women of all shapes, sizes, and styles. XO







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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1430911 2019-07-10T13:24:23Z 2019-07-10T13:24:23Z Maven recommends: The best bathing suits at the very best prices

Good morning, Wednesday. I'm still under the duvet for the first time in a while. It feels very nice to stay under the covers for an extra hour. It's the little things.

So if you're like me, you like Summer enough but hate bathing suits. I have never understood how walking around in basically your bra and underwear is somehow ok at the beach but not in real life. Personally, I prefer a bra and underwear to a bathing suit but that's just me. And I haven't worn a bikini since childhood basically. So there.

Bathing suits have always cost me a tremendous amount of money. As somebody who's got a real body to contend with (boobs and the like), I find it challenging to find suits that suit. My default is usually Malia Mills, whose suits can cost 300 bucks or more. That's obscene. And I wasn't ready to pony up this Summer anything near that amount. For a simple look like my friend Jane Birkin wore so iconically above, why spend so much?

So I frantically searched the internet, looking for bathing suits that were sensibly sexy and not Bubby-like. I would rather eat my own flesh than wear a bathing suit with any kind of skirt or any kind of matronly festoonery.  I go to too many barre classes for that thank you very much. And those ridiculous "miracle" suits are more house of horrors than miraculous. Think ill-fitting sausage casing. No thank you.

So it was with great glee that I came across some really, really wonderful options at (wait for it) H&M. Yes, you heard me.

For me to spend less than 50 bucks on a bathing suit is a complete revelation. So on a total lark, I ordered 7 suits, and spent about 200 bucks or so, thinking I'd have a shot at maybe one or two of them looking good. 

When they arrived, all 7 looked pretty great, and I'm keeping them all. I was shocked. It's true I tend to wear only black bathing suits, sometimes brown, but mostly black or navy. These suits fit well, were super comfortable, and I was absolutely thrilled. Bonus for my leopard caftan score. At under 30 bucks, I'm over the moon to have such a chic option to cover up for such a low price. Genius.

So as summer is in full swing and you need to pick up a suit or two, absolutely check the stock at H&M.  Who knows how long they will hold up, but who cares really? A season or two is just fine by me at that price.

Here are my top three picks in the one piece category.

This ruffled girl is mad cute. I got it in black but love the paisley too.

This wrap reminds me of 70s Norma Kamali suits which is a very good thing- layer with a gold coin necklace and instant chic. Great for girls with boobs too. Love.

I didn't get this one but love a brown bathing suit because I do have a serious thing for 70s vibes at the beach. A brown suit is so pretty against golden skin. In love with the simple shape. Pretty cute in the polka dot version too. Cheap enough to buy both.

So go forth and Summer it up. But first, get a new bathing suit. One that doesn't make you cry, because it looks great and it's priced right. 

Cause that's what's up this well suited Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in looking forward to beach week. XO





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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1429092 2019-07-08T13:15:09Z 2019-07-08T18:55:17Z In praise of the Summer job. Is it a thing of the past?

Greetings, Monday. I hope you had a lovely long weekend. Mine was a bit of a mixed bag but glad to have had some time to recoup and regroup. 

So was watching CNN's movie special last night which looked at movies from the 80s and 90s, with many sitting squarely in the teen genre. As a child who grew up on a steady diet of those, I loved the look back.  And as they were showing a clip from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", I began to think about something. Whatever happened to the Summer job?

Back before college, I had many Summer jobs. There was my Summer as a telemarketer. That was a bit of a bust but I was a high performer and actually talked to someone from Def Leppard on the phone, who flirted with me incessantly. It was, of course, possible he was not with the band, in case you were wondering.

Then I worked in a few clothing stores, though my favorite Summer job was most definitely my BS guard duty at the Philadelphia Folk Festival. That was a weekend-long music event where you camped and drank and smoked and enjoyed. If you "worked" the weekend, you could get in for free. So my friend Bev and I had a really difficult job. Guarding the gate to enter the campgrounds. By gate, I mean small footbridge. And by job, I mean drinking beer and smoking Marlboro Reds all day and Lord knows what else.  That's a true story, We sucked at that job. Who knows the number of ruffians that got in for free on our dime.

But I digress. Because shows like "Stranger Things" are showing what it was like yet again to be a kid in the 80s. And we all had Summer jobs. Most of my dude friends delivered pizza. One girl my sister's age cut Flashdance sweatshirts at the local record and jeans shop. A few of my friends worked in restaurants as hostesses (that, ps, was my college gig straight through to graduation). Some of them were camp counselors (never my jam) or mother's helpers (summerish nannies who would accompany a family to the shore). And of course, if you were lucky enough to be "down the shore" all Summer, you'd get a job at the amusement park or water ice stand or on the beach. None of these jobs were high paying. But they offered a sense of purpose and socializing and that was all good.  I think about the kids of today and wonder where their work ethic went, or whether their parents thought such jobs were beneath little Atticus or Persephone.

Not the case.

Because as I was getting dressed this morning, I was listening to NPR, who had a story on about this specific thing. Summer jobs. The fact is, after the recession, a lot of kids stopped looking for work in the Summer. And many ended up focusing on academics by engaging in school programs to get extra credit or a better shot at getting into a good college. 

But for me, I loved having some pizza fry pocket money in the warmer months. And I still got to work on my tan because the time commitment was not insane. There's just something about your first few jobs in life that really mean something. They're not indicators of any career path most likely. But they do give you a sense of what it's like to deal with people, be responsible, and even brush (phone) shoulders with a maybe rock star.  And now that I think about it, it seems a pretty good idea to open a record and jeans shop now. Who's with me?

Anyway, I was just thinking about this particular rite of passage and was wondering if it's reached extinction. Apparently, companies like McDonald's and Taco Bell are accepting applications aka "snaplications" on Snapchat, so I guess it's still around or a scant workforce is making it so as employers struggle to fill open jobs.  What were your favorite or most miserable Summer jobs and why?  Reach out and tell me.

Summer summer jobs it wouldn't be Summer without them. Cause that's what's up this odd job kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in seasons past. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1427376 2019-07-03T15:45:30Z 2019-07-03T15:59:11Z Don't be afraid of your freedom: The Midlife Edition

Good morning, Wednesday. Happy pre-4th to all my patriots out there. Let's remember what's great about this country- we've always been an optimistic lot after all.

So I had a meeting at a we workspace this am and noticed, as I often do of late, that I was the oldest person in the elevator. 

That in itself is not strange. But what's odd to me is the very notion of boutique firms, start-up companies, or small but mighty brands are not only staffed by young people but started by young people. I'm not sure why innovation is a young person's game. 

Take the first dot com boom of the 90s. I was a young chick in New York, working in advertising way back then, everyone was a good deal older than me who had any power. And I appreciated that. The C Suite was full of people over 40, and it was good. And then to the left of me was an entire startup culture, brimming to the surface of New York work life in a way none of us had ever seen.

Admittedly, the whole vibe was exciting. It was the early days of the internet, and it felt like anything was possible. But I will never forget going to some rising, sexy dot com party, surrounded by children drinking from some luge, and I thought, hm. This won't last. Sure there were cute people. And yes the ping pong tables and perks were enticing. But the places were being run by children. And as someone who worked at big Madison Avenue ad agencies, this all felt childish to me. Somehow in my mind, I knew these newbies were going to crash and burn. And they did. 

Cut to now. The startup culture is thriving. The gig economy is keeping many of us alive. There is a whole new way to think about work/life as many telecommute, cowork, and Skype their way through the day. I love this. I think the evolution of work is beyond exciting and here's the difference from the first iteration of it I referenced above- I'm ready for it.

Let me start by saying as I've said many times, I have no issue working with young people, whose ideas and idealism and cultural relevance are vast. But when a culture or company is in its infancy, you know what's often missing? Experience. 

That's what muddied the waters in the 90s. And as I stood in that elevator this am, that's what's wrong right now. Imagine if all of us in Gen X and beyond started new ventures. Solo or together. There'd be no stopping us. I'm sure of it.  Think of all the awesome stuff you've done. Imagine how valuable that can be when in the right place. A friend of mine is going for a big job at a big corporation, and all I can think about is how brilliant he is and why he's not using his powers for good to do his own thing. It seems sad to me, given that most of those big jobs come with a mark on your head and a two-year shelf life. You know it's true.

So as we celebrate our freedom and independence, riddle me this, friends of a certain age. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and poke holes. Say you need a steady income and a big office and staff. I'll shoot you right down.

Because if you are feeling edged out of your chosen industry because you have crow's feet, consider DIYing the crap out of your career. Start your own thing. Join boards of companies just starting out and show them the way. Go freelance and never look back. Hopefully, you realize that one of the great gifts of working for 15 plus years means you have great connections and compadres. Now is the time to use them. Start with me. How can I help?

Don't let some asshole eye your corner office. Create your own. Oh, ye tired, poor, and huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Get off your butts and start something. I'll be here to collaborate. And hopefully at some point, I'll be in an elevator in a random we work building, and I won't be the only person who knows the theme song to "Laverne and Shirley". Go forth,  my friends. Let's take matters into our own capable hands and create new enterprises together. That's the real American way.  Last time I checked there was no expiration date on that.

Cause that's what's up this let freedom ring as you free yourself up to the possibilities kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in wanna be startin' something. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1425455 2019-06-28T13:45:29Z 2019-06-28T13:45:29Z The crime of passion and why I need calm.

Good morning, Friday. TGIF my pals.

So last night was the second night of the Dem debates, and they got me thinking.

The playing field is insanely crowded, and we are living in crazy times, but between my constant watching of CNN and all the candidates trying to out 'splain each other, I'm exhausted. Everybody's yelling, and nobody's saying anything. I love how fired up Elizabeth Warren is and appreciate her conviction and planning, but stop screaming at me. Kamala, I love you and want you to rip Trump's face off at the debate, but wow, you're intense. And Bernie, the dandruff on the shoulders was far from a good look, and your angry Brooklyn finger wagging I did not find charming last election, and I find it less attractive now. 

And yea, I know. We don't need charm to fight the Old Yeller in chief. But can we have a little calm? Just a little quiet, studied, well-mannered sanity? Being passionate is becoming offensive to me. Because this landscape feels like rage vs. passion and I'm just craving a different style of communicating. We need to evolve past this current model of this frothy-mouthed, cuckoo town. I keep waiting for someone to have a heart attack on stage. 

That's why I was so enamored of Pete Buttigieg last night. His answers were cool, calm, and collected without being arrogant, cavalier, or dismissive. He was not asleep at the wheel. He is just someone who exudes grace under pressure and I admire that.  He's passionate but collected. More of that, please. Less of candidates and pundits gone wild. 

As someone who had a stressful career path as a producer for a long time, I always approached my work with calm or tried to. Because I realized panic spreads quickly and I was the one people were looking to solve problems. And I wanted to keep it cool. Even when my insides were on fire from stress. I don't like people that spread anxiety or yell too much. They are not my tempo and they never will be. 

Thing is Trump's fear mongering is a style I can't stomach. And now the Dems are yelling too, and everyone's screaming and I want to return to civility. I so appreciate Pete waiting his turn last night and not getting blinded by Biden's sparkly shark teeth. I have my eye on Pete, and I just wanted to mention it. This is not a political post- but more about my feelings and that I want calm in the storm. It's refreshing and beautiful and grounding. 

So I'm dedicating this weekend to some much-needed calm. Fighting fire with fire is debilitating. Cause that's what's up this keeping calm and thinking about 2020 kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in steady as we go. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1422292 2019-06-21T12:05:32Z 2019-06-21T13:17:33Z It's time for advertising to grow up: Marketers I'm talking to you

Good morning, Friday. Thank goodness.

So everyone's in Cannes this week for the big advertising equivalent of the Oscars, and even though I spent a lifetime in advertising and also produced some award-winning work, I have never been to Cannes. And I don't mind. At all. As a non-joiner, self-congratulatory pats on the back mixed with too much rose and endless debating on what's next is not my tempo. And that's ok with me.

But as someone who's watching the industry a bit from afar these days, I'm still bugged by the ageism conundrum. And although I've reset my compass as a writer and am busier than I've been in a long time (knock wood), I'm still a little pissy about advertising and how it relates to anyone over 35.  So put down your rose and let me explain.

Yesterday I was talking to an old pal I met years ago at a conference. He's considering a job pretty high up in the car space.  As a top-shelf marketer, he'll have to figure out how to get more people on board with this brand.  And of course, all anyone wants to know is who is this generation behind millennials, and how do we grab their attention? And for the five millennials who love cars and want to buy them how do we hit a home run with them when it comes to messaging? Why try so hard to always to capture the same same when it comes to eyeballs and audiences? There's a whole damn world out there. Isn't it high time to stop chasing the dragon?

 Sure some brands are meant for young people. But does EVERY brand have to target the same demographic solely? I just don't get it. It seems so bloody shortsighted given that, according to the US Department of Labor, "Gen X outspends all other generations when it comes to clothing, housing, eating out and entertainment." Not to mention boomers who have always been known to wield a ton of spending power. I can only speak for my generation in saying if brands are looking to build lifelong customers and fans, why do they always dump the generation they so badly chase when they are finally old enough to buy stuff? Crazy to me. I recall being the coveted demographic for a moment, only to be dumped by the next pretty young thing. You want my loyalty? Where's yours?

As for said loyalty,  I can count them on the one hand, and at the time of this post, I can only think of one- Apple.  My first computer experience was on the very first Apple, and I've been loyal ever since. But when it comes to things like makeup or clothes, I am not wearing the same eyeshadow brand I wore at 16. Nor am I wearing Guess jeans at this stage in the game. When will marketers wake up and realize that building eternal flames of fandom is a pipe dream and that with our collectively lowered attention spans and choices gone wild, they should focus less on generational marketing and more on insight around universal human truths? 

Just yesterday, Adweek published a piece on changing gender norms thanks to (wait for it) young people, with the following quote:

"Simply put, it’s time for brands to be as brave and real as Gen Z is." OMG.

Yes, there are opportunities in gender-neutral spaces. Yes, we love the inclusivity of the body positive movement. Yes, I love these kids for speaking out and being heard. But can't that be for everyone? Surely it's more than Gen Z that craves bravery and authenticity. Surely. People have been fighting for that for years. Talk to all of us. Not just some of us.

Further, if ad agencies were hiring more people 40+, perhaps strategy for how to sell products and services would look a little bit different. More inclusive. Less pet rock and more long term. Insights that cross generations. Truths about the human condition vs. just chasing the latest jail bait. The only way real insight can occur is if you've been on this Earth for a considerable stretch.

That's not to say there are distinct differences in life stages and states and of course we can't ignore that. But we must extend the invitation for "must haves"  from the high and low to have a broader appeal for the rest of us. That's smart marketing. And why brands aren't talking to people past a certain age is just plain stupidity. I should know. I buy more shit than anyone.

We will always be enchanted by youth and with good reason. I respect and adore what young people are doing to change the way we think, but there's plenty of people doing great shit past some perceived expiration date.  We deserve the courtesy of acknowledgment that we are still very much alive, and our wallets are proof that there is indeed still a pulse when it comes to our spending power. Stop trying to court demographics that don't even want to date you.  It's not cute anymore.

Cause that's what's up this ranty, rainy Friday in the 212. Yours, in X marking the spot and just saying no to ageism. Don't you forget about us. XO





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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1421776 2019-06-19T14:48:12Z 2019-06-19T15:01:31Z Me and Marc forever.

Good morning, Wednesday. Another day of gloom. What is going on with this weather huh huh huh? OMG.

So I'm sitting here working and writing and thinking as I do. And it's come to my attention of late that I'm annoyingly New York. Meaning, to outsiders, I may seem too cityfied for my own good. And that maybe I sacrificed my second bedroom to house my clothes and dressing table where I get ready in the morning. And perhaps I wear dark colors all year for the most part. And have the good fortune to duck out of rainstorms only to discover the best ramen of all time, ordered by sitting in an individual cubicle and pressing a button, only for the big reveal to be a curtain opening to take your order, and then later serving you some pork infused goodness that makes you want to pinch yourself. Yea, that's what I've got going on. And?

So it's no surprise I've always adored Marc Jacobs because, to me, he is the quintessential New Yorker. Stylish, creative, a little fucked up. Still ahead of and setting the trends with an understanding of street culture and youth culture and pop culture. It's true that in the past few years or so, many of us Marc fans have been scratching our well-highlighted heads. It was unclear what direction he was taking his namesake brand, but I, for one think Marc is very much back. With the infamous grunge redux and now his new rebranding as "the" Marc Jacobs, I love the spirit of the brand so much. And I even forgive him for moving to the suburbs. For the perfect midcentury, sometimes we must.

Anyway, here's something I should probably own. This New York nameplate necklace, done in collab with New York Magazine to celebrate the original Milton Glaser logo created for the pub back in 1968. It's perfection in type form. And it's next-gen Carrie Bradshaw realness when it becomes a necklace. Because besides wearing my name around my neck, New York would probably be a close second. It's a massive part of me. You know it and I know it and that's why I need this necklace. Birthday's next month. Just saying. I'll take it in gold, natch.

If you have a chance, check out the rest of Marc's fabulousness lately. It's so good. I love a comeback kid. And so does this city — cheers to New York, the brand. And New York being part of my brand. And extra clinks to Marc J. for also finding all the inspiration he needs in this blessed, crazy town.

Also here's a picture of Mia Farrow looking fantastic. Just because. You're welcome.

Cause that's what's up this old New York kind of Wednesday in Manhattan, baby. Yours, in long, enduring love affairs. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1421474 2019-06-18T13:45:29Z 2019-06-18T16:18:06Z In defense of not aging gracefully

Good morning, Tuesday. This weather though. Blech.

So let's talk about Madonna for a minute. Her new album Madame X is getting panned left and right and I must admit it's not great and I also must admit her look is super bizarre. Whatever queen told her to wear an eye patch, cowboy hat, and bridal gown all at once has misguided her. I realize this might be a slight homage to the many phases of Ms. M, but, yea, it's not her best look.

But a recent Facebook comment on a friend's feed about Madge gave me pause. Because a woman commented on how bad the album was, saying simply "I wish she would just age gracefully". Come again?

As someone who is aging (newsflash we all are), I LOATHE that term. 

Sure I know what she means. She means be more like a Catherine Deneuve. Or a Helen Mirren. Or a Meryl Streep. Or a Michelle Pfeiffer. Need I go on? I think not. Because aging gracefully really means just being naturally beautiful. And somehow being all aglow as your hormones change.  It's nice in theory. But it's complete bullshit.

Because "grace" does not apply to every single woman on Earth. And you can say a lot about Madonna, but what about her and her illustrious, groundbreaking, sex-positive career has ever led you to believe she would "age gracefully"? Hers is not a life of grace. It's a life of rebelliousness, fierceness, in your face independence. Even if you're not a big fan of hers, you have to admit it- she changed popular culture and was a champion for women and their bodies and a new kind of empowerment. 

All of this is messy stuff. And incidentally, none of that requires grace. So why on Earth would she go wafting into the ether, in a smart cardigan and slacks and an Hermès scarf? And trust me, if she wanted to do that she'd own that. But why is there this notion that women must go quietly into the twilight? 

I've talked much about my complicated feelings surrounding aging pop and rock stars. But Madonna is in a class of her own. And the rules just don't apply to her. Let her live. Let her do her thing. Bad music? Sure. Super hot guy in her video for Medellin? You bet. Doing it all very much on her own terms? You know this. Cheers to her for always reinventing and taking risks. 

Not all of us look like or act like what many think we should as we are getting older. I'm not opposed to grace in any way. But it's a stupid term when it comes to people who have always defied the odds and lived rebellious lives. Don't ask Madonna to retire to the study in sensible pajamas.  She'll scratch your damn eyes out.

I think we need to vastly redefine what age looks like. How we feel about it. Our expectations around it.  We have Diana Ross. We have artists who we perceive as more age appropriate, and somehow, Cher manages to dodge a bullet when it comes to the G word. But Madonna is her own thing. Let her do her. You do you. And we'll all be great. After all, she made it through the wilderness.

And even though her new album may be far from her best, I'm just glad she's still out there doing her thing. And if she wants to be weird and cha, cha, cha, then fuck it. Let her. 

Cause that's what's up this graceless Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in living life on your own bloody terms. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1421086 2019-06-17T14:35:03Z 2019-06-27T14:32:44Z Five beauty essentials for beating the heat/humidity

Good morning, my little Monday dwellers. I hope you had an exciting weekend. If you are someone who has worked or works in advertising, buckle up for all those rose swilling, yacht dwelling, self-congratulatory social media moments from Cannes. My eyes. I have never been to Cannes for the ad awards hoo has and I most likely never will be. I have, however, always wanted to go and write a Hunter Thompsonesque commentary on all the masturbatory madness. Who wants to fund that? No takers so far. Shocking.

But this isn't a post about advertising. It's about the heat is on and the humidity here to stay. This time of year is super challenging for me. Though I love the ocean, like a bit of a tan, and love extra daylight, the whole hot thing is a challenge. So here's five beauty products I've found that help. At least when it comes to looking your best all Summer long. You may not reach Bardot beauty on the beach status, but a girl can try.

For the face: Hourglass Veil™ Translucent Setting Powder. OK, so this. I know any woman over 40 is wondering if powder is for her. The answer is yes. If the said powder is not drying. If you don't want to look like a decomposing mummy, use Hourglass's fantastic powder. Its formula is lovely, and it doesn't seem cakey or drying and provides the perfect finish to makeup so it won't run down your face when it's hazy, hot, and humid. I love, love, love this one. I highly recommend for all ages. And the foolproof packaging allows for just the right amount to be dispensed. Maybe my favorite new discovery.

For the hair: Leonor Greyle Serum de Soie Sublimateur- This oil from French girl favorite Leonor Greyle is the holy grail of anti-frizz, and that's a fact. Run a few drops through your hair, and you can even dare to dry naturally. It's that good. It smoothes without being too greasy or weighing down your tresses. The smell is subjective- it's not my favorite, but others adore it- kind of the way I feel about the original Rodin oil. Smells a bit like that. I've written about this one before, but worth a mention again because it's perfection.

For the girls:  Boob sweat? Don't even tell me this isn't a concern. This talc-free powder from Megababe keeps you feeling fresh and sweat free, where it matters all day long. I love this stuff. In Bust Dust I trust. 

For the thighs: A miracle of miracles. Thigh Rescue is miraculous during bare leg season. And as someone who wears dresses more often than not, strong yes to having this in stock at all times at my casa. I love Megababe so much. They get it, and they also make one for men. How cool is that?

For the whole bod, baby.  Oh, I love this guy from organic line Osea. After the shower, smelling delicious, soft skin realness. It's from Malibu, so it gives you that apres beach vibe that's just everything. I can't wait to bring it with me to beach week in July. So gorgeous and smells so good and soaks right into your skin. Claims to help with stretch marks and firms skin too. Gorgeous.

So maybe you're in Cannes reading this and wishing I had written this before your trip. Or maybe you're stateside in a sweat. Either way, summer is here and so are all these divine products to help you get through it. Cause that's what's up this sunny beauty roundup of a Monday in the unsunny 212. Yours, in frizz and sweat, be gone. XO






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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1418591 2019-06-10T12:31:46Z 2019-06-27T14:32:40Z Strike a pose, New York

Good morning, Monday. I hope you had a wonderful weekend- the weather here in New York was just too perfect. And Khan even got to see an old friend and hang out in the park with the sun on his fur face. All in all, a lovely couple of days.

So last week I did some more binge-watching, this time the entire first season of FX's "Pose," the brilliant look into the trans world of New York in the late 80s. Created by Ryan Murphy of "Glee" fame, this show is absolutely hands down one of the most touching and entertaining shows in recent memory.  And the acting is transcendent- I now know why Billy Porter goes so big at awards shows. 

The show focuses on the uptown ballroom culture depicted in movies like "Paris is Burning," but examines the family dynamic, which is the most tender part of the show. As crews or "houses" perform at the balls with a theme, they also live in houses together as a family. The "mother" of each house keeps her children safe and provides a stable environment for them. Understand that many of these kids are found on the street, kicked out of their homes for merely trying to live their truths. The story also follows the often sad dynamic of finding love as a trans woman. These are not easy lives, and to live them with the AIDs crisis as a backdrop is even more heartbreaking. 

As a member of a generation who sexually came of age during the AIDS crisis, it's hard to explain how terrifying and horrific that time was. I lost my cousin to AIDs, and I can't think of many people who don't know someone either close to them or somewhat more distant that lost their lives to this horrible disease. And because I grew up in a family where there were gay men, I felt strongly from an early age that acceptance was an unnegotiable right. And that being free to love who you want to love and be who you want to be meant everything. How could you deny anyone the right to love and be loved? And why must I still ask the same question I was asking a million years ago?

But lest you think the show is super sad, it's not. There are tear-jerking moments for sure, but there are also happy jubilant ones. It shows the critical relationship of what it means to be a mother- to protect, to nurture, to accept and love unconditionally, which got me thinking. That New York City is the mother incarnate. For many people from all walks of life and persuasions and preferences who come here looking for acceptance, to live their dreams, and to live fully out loud precisely as they are. And even though this city has become more of a hedge funded theme park than a place where originals are born and raised, it's still in the ether.  And I hope that never changes. And sure, mothers can be cruel sometimes. But tough love is often part of a life well lived. So we deal. 

When I moved from Philadelphia to New York, I too felt loved and nurtured in a way I never had before. I always referred to New York City as a giant womb state. I somehow feel safe, protected, and warm. I know that may be strange to some who find city living anything but, but that's the way New York has always been for me. And as someone who never felt entirely at home growing up in the 215, I felt great joy and relief when I moved here way back when. 

And as I took a walk downtown on the way to a meeting last week, I saw those Pride flags flying and felt a deep sense of relief. That I live somewhere where we can be the best versions of ourselves, which is who we want to be.  The second season of "Pose" starts tomorrow night, and I'll be tuning in and laughing and crying and loving all the dance moves and incredible looks. But today, I remain grateful to a city who mothers us all and keeps us motivated, inspired, and alive.  New York is not just a city. It means so much more to so many of us who came here in search of something better: the tired, the poor, and the fabulous. 

Cause that's what's up this lifelong love affair kind of Monday in the best city in the whole damn world. Yours, in living your dreams and being perfect just the way you are. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1417116 2019-06-06T12:59:07Z 2019-06-06T16:00:22Z Maven pick: A can do jumpsuit if you've got some curves

Good morning, Thursday. I'm worked out, worn out, ready to pass out. And it's not even 9 am. 

So quick style shout out. (You know you want it).

I'm a fan of Universal Standard and its wide array of sizing. It's a chic line with plenty of styles and options to suit many ages and body types. It's brilliant, and I'm still so utterly obsessed with the tux I got from their collaboration with Goop. It's just right.

And you all know how I feel about a jumpsuit, and judging from all of the women I see around the boroughs rocking them too, it's a bonafide movement. I'm talking about the utility take in particular. It's so comfortable and confident all at once. And strangely sexy. Or at least I feel sexy when I wear it because I always add a little bit of something feminine to it- even if it's a pretty sandal or a beautiful bra underneath.

But those boiler suits have some issues. And number one is fit. Because even if they are supposed to be oversized, for women who are not boyishly built, they can be challenging. Boobs, hips, and bellies are not often invited to this type of jumpsuit party. But I spotted this one, and I'm quite sure the fit is going to be great. I have not tried it, but I know this brand is all about fit and I'm hoping to get to their store in Soho to try one of these suckers on. So good. It comes in black and olive green and has that industrial vibe I'm all about. Plus its 150 dollar price tag is a reasonable fee for something you'll most likely wear all the time.  PS I know the pic I posted looks like a winter look, but you're more imaginative than that, aren't you darlings? Rock it with some rubber slides for a bit of Summer cool.

Jumpsuits are the new one-piece wonders of our time. Having been a dress girl for a minute now, I appreciate a new take on easy dressing. So have at this jumpsuit and please report back. 

Cause that's what's up this zipped up Thursday in the 718. Yours, in one and done. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1416737 2019-06-05T17:09:25Z 2019-06-06T10:33:59Z 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





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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1416305 2019-06-04T12:19:33Z 2019-06-04T12:19:33Z 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

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1414431 2019-05-29T13:44:59Z 2019-05-29T13:56:05Z 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




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1414039 2019-05-28T13:09:39Z 2019-05-28T13:10:19Z 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

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1412192 2019-05-23T13:26:15Z 2019-05-23T13:27:07Z 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



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1411290 2019-05-21T12:03:46Z 2019-05-21T12:21:27Z 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



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1409247 2019-05-16T13:49:37Z 2019-05-17T15:20:09Z 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.







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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1408819 2019-05-14T12:13:04Z 2019-05-14T12:13:06Z 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

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Sheri Rosenberg