tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:/posts the world according to sherimaven 2019-10-15T14:36:13Z Sheri Rosenberg tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1465994 2019-10-14T15:28:53Z 2019-10-15T14:36:13Z Is there life beyond New York?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1464014 2019-10-08T13:52:17Z 2019-10-08T13:52:17Z New York in the 90s and a don't miss documentary

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1462268 2019-10-03T18:54:17Z 2019-10-03T18:54:21Z Maven pick: The Frankie Shop for the best Fall Outerwear

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1461593 2019-10-01T14:04:09Z 2019-10-01T14:29:40Z It's (almost) Leather Weather

Good morning, Tuesday.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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






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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1459301 2019-09-25T14:30:51Z 2019-09-25T16:41:27Z Fashion: A love letter to rock and roll gypsies and tuxedo queens from Saint Laurent (et moi).

Good morning, Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1457185 2019-09-19T17:30:32Z 2019-09-22T14:59:27Z I feel like I'm 25 again

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

But yea, about that headline up there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1456355 2019-09-17T16:58:11Z 2019-09-17T16:59:33Z Maven pic: A fresh take on a classic denim jacket

Good afternoon, Tuesday. Howzit? I've been busy of late and haven't been here much but had to share with you something I've had my eye on for a minute that just went on sale for 30 percent off so here's your very own Maven steal and deal for the day.

I'm always on the lookout for a great denim jacket. Though I love my classic dark denim Gap version I've had forever, I also love to freshen up with a new piece when the feeling and fiscally friendly moment strikes.

So I was thrilled to see this unusual offer from Levis, really the best denim purveyor of all time as we all know. I spotted it first on
Bird's site (a local store in Brooklyn whose looks are soooo good) and fell in love with it. And then just like that, I got an email from Levi's about 30 percent off site wide, and there you have it. A new denim jacket for under 100 bucks. I'm still searching for a vintage Helmut Lang, but that's not here nor there...

So this one has a belt you can wear if ya feel like, or the oversized trucker feel is perfect for layering with a chunky sweater underneath. I like the capelike silhouette and can picture it with skinny jet black jeans or trousers and a pointy high boot. One and done. Thank you. Next. Give it a whirl. Why the heck not?

But one thing I won't be buying from Levi's? A jean called "The Ribcage Jean". You decide if that's a good thing. I don't think it is. Not at all no. Ouch.

Cause that's what's up this supercute Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in denim daydreams and Fall fashion. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1455033 2019-09-13T19:05:27Z 2019-09-13T19:05:46Z Fashion Week is Dead. Long Live Fashion Week!

Good afternoon, Friday. TGIFFFFFFFFF.

So NYFW came and went and at the beginning of it, I remarked on Facebook that I felt the clothes were so stupid and ridiculous and to be honest, a ton of them were. But towards the end of the week, the usual suspects like Michael Kors and Ralph and Tom Ford came out with runways full of women that fit the brief of what I've known to be Fashion Week my whole fashion geek life- a long runway, models, a posh, aspirational crowd with Anna Wintour, celebrities, and big buyers like Linda Fargo from Bergdorf Goodman. And Marc Jacobs, who always ends Fashion Week, provided eye candy that delighted all of us who want to see him win. And win he did- with a dizzying array of kooky looks that celebrated individuality with his signature chic and cheek. Lovely.

Almost as genius as his show was this amazing review of it in the New York Times, written by Vanessa Friedman. Of course, she gushed over the Marc show, but she also showed me how the new version of Fashion Week should have us all rooting for fashion again. And if fashion is and always has been a barometer for the times, then it stands to reason it needs to evolve and change. And it has.

From the article:

"The gravitational forces of New York fashion are moving; its map is being rewritten and identity reinvented by a group of designers with a different sense of history and voices that demand to be heard. The conversation about race and power and gender is reshaping how we express ourselves and who understands that best".

So very true- the piece goes on to talk about how fashion is no longer about the ladies who lunch or "Wall Street wives" but an experiential, youth and creative-driven moment that speaks to fashion being more of a creative formula than just about the clothes.  It's about the shows that felt more like parties where young people could express themselves, however they identified or related or wanted to present to the world. And it's high time for it, truly. Because maybe it's less about fashion defining us, and more about the people defining fashion. Which is wonderful. 

And as Friedman states at the end of her piece:

"...what makes it American is not its roots in blue jean utility, but the fact it is free of the restrictions of heritage that make it so hard for European brands to change. It reflects the freedom of reinvention that the American promise was built on. It’s disruptive and messy and happy to color outside the lines. It’s not yet fully realized, but it is on its way".

So let the Europeans do their shows and let us gawk at the clothes and the models for their elegance (incidentally I too will gawk). Over here we're busy shaking some shit up. As a huge fan of style as a form of self-expression, I love this watershed moment in culture. Hooray for fashion. Hooray for New York. Hooray for young people demanding change. America is at it's best when we challenge the norm and reinvent culture. Let's keep going. Cause that's what's up this fashionable Friday in the 718, Yours, in changin' times and hemlines. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1454498 2019-09-12T14:24:03Z 2019-09-12T14:25:06Z Maven Pick: The Only Vegan Leather Legging you need this Fall/Winter

Good morning Thursday this will be a quick hit as I'm a busy bee today.

I'm fairly certain I've shared my love for Emerson Fry, a fashion favorite brand of elevated basics made right here in NYC. I love their cool cred and classic/rock and roll vibe. I got an email from them this morning about the release of their vegan leather leggings for Fall, and I have to tell you- if you buy one thing this Fall, buy these. (You'll obviously need a top and shoes too, but you get my drift).

Their vegan leather leggings are a cold-weather go-to for this maven. I literally buy two or three pairs so I can wear them all season and switch them out.  I love to wear them with sweaters and blazers, and in place of tights under dresses for a cool look. I'm not sure if these are exactly like the pairs I have from last season, but I've been stocking up on these for the past few years since they've been making them and they are perfect and always a home run. They fit true to size and really have the feel of real leather. Link to buy here.

Go get yourself a pair, girlies. You won't be sorry. Fall is almost here, even if the NY weather says otherwise.

Cause that's what's up this quickie of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in pleather report realness. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1453489 2019-09-09T15:36:52Z 2019-09-09T16:11:25Z A Classic New York Weekend

Aloha, Monday. I say aloha because I had an anxiety dream last night about losing a gig and not being able to get to Hawaii (no idea) and being very sad about it. So aloha again.

This weekend can only be described as quintessential New York City. 

Was I prancing through Central Park, enjoying a late Summer day with my dog? Was I shopping for stylish sweaters in Soho? Or was I boozy brunching somewhere fabulous in Brooklyn? Um no. Not really.

Because instead, I was robbed on Friday night. Yes, robbed. Outside of my apartment hangs a set of hooks where my raincoats (including a Burberry trench) resided, and my husband's beautifully broken in Belstaff. Plus my cycling shoes and a sweet, giant beach bag I picked up from Target. We were home, watching a movie, and when David went to take Khan for a walk around 10:30, he returned to find the hooks picked clean. They left my wellies and all the shoes in the basket but took a bunch of outerwear. An outerwear thief. Bizarre. When the cops came, it was like central casting. Two beat cops who asked me why I had such expensive coats hanging outside. One of them called my Burberry a Blueberry. The sergeant who showed up later was a poor man's Michael  Peña, who could not understand why I needed so many fancy raincoats. He had a point, I suppose. As they left, I awkwardly thanked them for their service.
  
I live in a brownstone with one apartment on each floor, and I have no idea how anyone could have gotten into my building which is entirely secure, but they did. It's completely nuts. And horrible.

And then as we attempted to heal, Sunday rolled around and it warm and lovely, so we decide to take K for a walk in our neighborhood. That's when, at around noon, we found a HUGE crow, or perhaps a raven. Just sitting on the sidewalk and not moving. He was standing like a stone next to a parked car which, of course, had to pull out. It was a mother and son, and the son kept throwing Terra chips at it. No dice. No chip could move this poor injured bird. He/she couldn't fly, and both of us couldn't leave a sick animal in that state. We called a million vets and then found a place on the Upper West Side that rescues birds and other winged types. And then we took matters into our own hands. Literally. 

David being the scrappy Kentuckyian that he is found a banana box with holes in it and shooed our bird friend (let's call him Amity since we saw him at the corner of Amity and Clinton) into the box and I ran and got an old towel to cover it up, as per the recommendation from the Audobon Society (thank you Google). We then got into our car, Khan on my lap, and put the box in the backseat. 

I can tell you I have been in many panic-inducing experiences in my life, but few have ever made me feel more heightened than a dying bird flailing around in the back of my car. Or maybe it was when he stopped moving halfway up the FDR that I started feeling like I was going to throw up. Did we kill the bird? Turns out we didn't. But that was a long 45 minutes to get uptown. Possibly the longest of my life. I'm scared of birds a bit, particularly giant black crows. Apparently, they are sacred animals in many cultures, so think we did a real mitzvah.

When we got to the rescue, which incidentally, was not some sort of sanctuary but a storefront on Columbus Avenue, I exhaled for the first time in several hours. I stayed outside with the dog as David took Amity inside. He told me the space was insane- full of chickens and turkeys walking around and an abundance of birds. Kind of my nightmare but thank goodness for these bird lovers. Truly. We'll get an Amity update tomorrow, ps. Stay tuned. Incidentally, I ran into a work friend just outside the bird spot, and she seemed nonplussed by it all. It's tough to shock a New Yorker. Even with a giant crow in a banana box in the back of your car. True story.

Needless to say, I slept in and skipped the gym this morning. I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Robberies and rescues require relaxation. I'll need to catch up on that next weekend. Let's hope for a little less excitement. And I pray it won't rain. Because I no longer have the proper attire.

Only in New York, kids. Only in New York. Cause that's what's up this keeping it together kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, on a wing and a scare. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1452039 2019-09-05T13:17:49Z 2019-09-09T03:05:42Z Don't ever say this to me.

Good morning, Thursday. It's been a minute since I've written here but I miss you and I miss it and I want to get back to our regularly scheduled program. I'm in the process of retooling this whole thing as you know, so stay tuned for that. 

So here's something. This past weekend I had a magnificent time at the beach with my sister. It was a glorious weekend and we laid in the sun, played Skee Ball, ate, drank, and generally had a lovely time. I've enjoyed my time at the Jersey Shore this Summer so much and I've been getting in a bit of a groove there when it comes to finding my favorite spots to eat, drink, and work out. 

One boutique gym, in particular, caught my eye as it had a class called "Power Barre" so I gave it a whirl earlier in the season. The class itself is taught by one of those women that could be 40 or could be 70. Her abs were bonkers good and she was a shouter. You know the type. I hate to be yelled at when I work out. Well, in general really. I don't respond well to yelling. Know that.

But the class itself was challenging and a little scary but I made it through, even though I vowed to never do it again because all of that Type A weirdness mingled with the uppity vibe of the other chicks in the class had me all meh. Also, the fact that for two days after that initial class, my right IT band was screaming in pain.

So here I was on Labor Day Weekend, conveniently forgetting the torture and signing up for another class with the treacherously taut one.

I thought the class was at 8:30, so I arrived at 8:20, only to find out it started at 8:15. As I quickly put down my things and took off my sandals, the male owner of the gym, looked me straight in the eye and said:

"Do the best you can".

Come again? Really? On what planet are you, sir, that you think it's ok to say that to me? Sure he may have been well-intentioned, but don't do that. Just don't.  Why was the assumption that a)I would do anything less than my best or b)I somehow wouldn't be able to hang with these Real Housewives of Margate, New Jersey? FUCK.

I couldn't help but wonder if he would have said this to a man- how many adult men have ever been told to do the best you can?. Or if the fact that I'm almost 50 that this comment bothered me more than it would have when I was 25. Needless to say, that set the tone for the class. Incidentally, I did really well for my 2nd time with this quite extreme workout, where the young girl next to me kept saying throughout "Oh God. Oh God". That's after the teacher told us a story of how two girls left her class because they were intimidated by the fact that "everyone in there looked like models". OMG. Who says such a thing?

But back to the initial source of my woe. 

Don't ever tell a woman to "do the best you can". Just don't. It's almost as bad as "calm down".  This is most important if you are a man. But in either instance, it's condescending and pretty shit. 

Because if I am at the beach and I am choosing to go to an early gym class vs. sleeping in or catching some rays, then clearly I am there to get it done. And I don't need anyone to backhand me into it. Or assume that I'm not going to make it through. I always do. And I always will.

And no, I won't calm down.

Cause that's what's up this keeping it real kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in giving it my all. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1449194 2019-08-27T14:17:44Z 2019-08-27T14:17:44Z MTV aka Meh Television: Thoughts on last night's party

Good morning, Tuesday. Looking forward to a long weekend coming up. I know it's only Tuesday but still.

So last night was the MTV Awards and man, it really was something. And not a good something. Here's the thing. MTV is mine. And belongs to my generation. I feel some proprietary love for MTV because I was raised on it. My generation is actually often called the MTV Generation, so when they do awards shows I still have to watch them. But what's clear to me now is that the network is irrelevant. Completely. Or I'm irrelevant. Completely.  Whatever of those two poisons is picked, it's true. I just can't believe how shite it all is now. 

As a lifelong music lover, the link between style and music has always been a revelation.  I'm aware that this is pop music and lacks any kind of cool kid cred, but for real? Why did everybody have to look so awful?

Why are all the women so hypersexualized? Being vulgar isn't sexy. Or at least it's not to me. Cardi is but one example but there were many others. Make it stop. Please.

And why did they hold it in New Jersey? No offense to Jersey, but Jersey? I think the Jo Bros got the brief, ps. They looked straight out of the Sopranos.

I just wonder what happened to real, sexy style cred in the music world. Almost all of my fashion inspo comes from rock and roll or punk or funk or soul or disco. What's changed? 

Thank goodness for MIssy Elliott ps. Yes, she can still work it. And flip it and reverse it. Amazing. At 48, she knows a thing or two about what makes a great awards show performance. Because she's one of us. Her performance was the most buzzed-about of the night- watch it here and learn, children, learn.

I don't know but I'm bummed and I no longer want my MTV.  So awful all around. But leave it to Missy to show us how great it used to be. Oh but kudos to Rick Ross for stepping out in a Gucci bathrobe. I'm not mad at it.

Cause that's what's up this post-awards show Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in video killed the radio star. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1447719 2019-08-23T13:28:39Z 2019-08-23T13:29:20Z I'll have what she's having: Julianne Moore KILLING IT

Good morning Friday and TGIF. 

I got my September In Style in the mail last night and all I have to say is that women of a certain age are having a bonafide moment. My fear is that this is a fad, but I'm hoping not. My girl Amber is all over the issue, but the star of the issue is absolutely Julianne Moore. A transcendent redhead and gorgeous woman. PS- she's 58. I asked Alexa. 

Her beauty is just astounding. And her in one of my favorite fashion looks of all time, that Tom Ford silk shirt and velvet pants. I can't.

I have no idea what she's done to her face, but whatever it is, I'll take it. Wow.

I love these pictures by Phil Poynter- such a great homage to fashion's best looks- particularly those of the 90s when I realized the potential of fashion upon first moving to this blessed city. And the issue takes a look back and lauds the more mature set like Jen Aniston and Jen Garner. I love this. Keep it up. Way up.

These pics, along with Amber's, have made their way to my internal mood board, and they're not coming down until I say so. Beauty all around. Let's hear it for a beautiful generation of women who refuse to be invisible. Lovely.

Cause that's what's up this fiftyish Friday in the 718. Yours, in magazine covers and ageless appeal. Oh, and redheads rule.  XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1447351 2019-08-22T12:56:30Z 2019-08-22T12:59:18Z From the pages of September Vogue: Everything I want to wear right here, right now

Good morning, Thursday. Hot as f and busy as f in NYC so I'll make this brief.

With the return of the 90s supermodel vibe in full swing (Amber, Helena, Kate, whoever else), I just have to say that despite my whirling dervish moment I'm having in the city with work, I have to take pause and celebrate Ms. Amber Valletta's story in the September issue of Vogue.

As women on the verge and wondering what (not) to wear, I give you these looks. Because they are perfect.

They are cool. Transcendent. Ageless. And overall- perfect. Just like Amber. What a beauty. It's crazy.

I love the fitted black dress with an oxford to keep it from veering too va va voom.

I love (and I do mean love) the black suit and sneakers with a slick of red lip.

I love the leather slouch of this shirtdress.

I love the rock and roll vibe of denim mixed with trench.

The khaki suit says do not, and I mean, do not fuck with me as I transition from Summer to Fall in the best of ways.

And maybe I'm not the only girl in town who has lusted after a Chanel jacket for most of her life. Perfection.

A camel coat? Yes. A faux fur coat too? Certainly. Why not throw in a Gucci mule. Why not?

And of course, an exceptional means business but ready to party plaid blazer with jeans. Strong.

These are all looks women of all ages can wear, and I adore them all. This is what I mean when I say I'm drawn to classic vs. preppy clothes. There is nowhere you could not go in these looks.  Truly what more could you want? For me, it would be nice to have a few prints thrown in for good measure, but I'd be pretty psyched to make this my Fall wardrobe.

So as you're assessing your wardrobe, think of pieces like these as the capsule of your collection. And lest you think I'm bad and bougie, know there are a million ways to get these looks for way less.  So get to googling. Also lest you think these looks are just for the skinny minnies, I beg to differ. I think women of all sizes could rock the hell out of these looks. Oh and the Rolex at the top of this post? Sure. Gimme that too.

Incidentally, photographed (Zoë Ghertner) and styled (Camilla Nickerson) by women. Naturally. More of that, please.  No tricks here, folks. Just great clothes and a fabulous woman. Bonus point for only featuring shoes made for walking, living, and loving. Let's hear it for comfort.

Cause that's what's up this hot in the city busy day but taking a moment to celebrate Amber because she is gorgeous and you are gorgeous and these clothes are gorgeous and hooray Fall kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in perfect clothes realness, honey. XO


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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