the world according to sherimaven

Hi, Thursday. Late start to you today, but I'm in it. Full on in it, if you must know.

And sometimes I just need something pretty to look at (or someone). So look at Jimmy Dean, my all time favorite movie star, and all around rebel without a cause. I adore him and was obsessed with him as a young teen. I'm looking for some inspiration today and started gazing back into my past for something to keep me going. I love you, Jimmy. You will forever be one of my muses.The below shot of him has always been one of my favorites- I very much related to JD's isolation and loneliness  and  the look of the world on his shoulders when I was having my own brand of teenaged existential wreckage. I'm totally impressed by the sunniness which has replaced that intense solitude of my younger years- impressed but also somewhat perplexed by it. I'm still a cynic I suppose- though I will always love Mr. Dean, regardless of my disposition. Besides, who's hotter really?

Cause that's what's up this sexy and studious Thursday in the MIA. XO

Hi, Wednesday. it's a lovely day here in the MIA- hot and sticky as usual, but sunny, which is nice. I am super tired though- these early workouts are getting annoying. And last night I dreamt I robbed a pizza place. In my pajamas. I'm not kidding. I did. What the hell does that mean? Probably means I need to sleep more. Or stop watching Locked Up before bed.

So anyway, this Missoni Target collection. You've all seen it and you know it's fabulous. I want just about everything zig zag and democratic, and much like you, I'll be queuing up at 11:59 the night before to get my mitts on some patterned loveliness. (September 13th is the sale date, mark your Smythson diaries/smartphones nowish). But word to the wise: fashion victimization is a likely possible with this collection- do not rock the ziggy zags all at once, and defiinitely not while riding this hot little creature of mobility. Non. And non again.

In addition to all the lovely clothes, tights, and shoes, I've gotta have this bike. Yea, I know I'm more of the spin class type, but sometime, somewhere in my so called life I will ride this bike, into the sunset and beyond. Who on Earth would not want this gorgeous thing???? It's mine and that's that- I am sure I will be fighthing off hoards and masses to get it, but I'm up for it. I have a killer left so look out. Don't you just love the way this looks in a house too? Maybe not even going to ride it but just admire it while I pretend I'm Anita Ekberg in "La Dolce Vita"?  Perhaps I shall. (Look, there she is now).

But all of these Italian fantasies have to be on hold for a moment, for now I must leave you- have loads to do and trying to rev up for the day, though visions of an Italian bicycle float through my sleep deprived brain...arrivederci, and that's what's up this well wheeled Wednesday in the 305. Pow. XO

 

 

Hiya, Tuesday. New day, yet still me. I suppose I'm relieved...

Today would have been my dad's 72nd birthday- he was courageous, big on the personality front, and commanded attention when he entered a room. Needless to say, I miss him dearly and wish him a happy birthday, hopefully he is in Heaven making somebody laugh or engaging in a political argument or history lesson. Love you dad.

But someone else whose birthday is today, and who is very much still with us, is Ms. Madonna. Though I have gone through periods of not liking her at all (let's just say she gets a little cra cra) to absolutely loving her, I'm feeling passionate about her today because what would the world be without her? Her influence has been felt by millions around the world, and her physical and mental fortitude shine like a beacon for women everywhere who are not afraid to be sexually powerful or excessively ambitious. I thank her for this.

And since yesterday I regaled you with tales of lace in the fall collections, let's celebrate some of my favorite images of her- these for a previous Dolce and Gabbana campaign (I am having a full on D&G obsession right now by  the way), in which Ms. M stars as an Italian widow. I'm a Jew but have always sympathized with the Italian conceit- dramatic, voluptuous, passionate, altogether decadent and delicious and very much alive. Perhaps in a past life I was of that persuasion- that or a raging Scotswoman- I'm not sure which, but one of those was most definitely me.

 

These photos sum up my mood for fall- I'm down with a lacy, curvy silhouette, dark in hue, with sexy hair and an attitude.  Altogether woman I would say. I hope Madonna enjoys her 53rd- we grew up together after all, so happy happy birthday to the original material girl. Cause that's what's up this express yourself/justify your love/borderline/American Life/Burning Up/Holiday/Dress you Up/Truth or Dareish kind of Tuesday in the MIA. And that's just for starters...isn't that skirt length divine, PS? I find that tight, just past the knee thing incredibly sexy. XO

Hiya Monday. I'm back in Miami and all is well. I've got my slow jams cranking this am, as my ignition needs some R. Kelly style starting. Tired.

Anyway, the Fall books are out and fashion is glorious for the autumn.  And though I am greatly distracted by Warren Buffett's brilliant treatise on the bloated upper class today, I digress. Because it's time to talk about style. With the chance of me being back in New York for reals becoming a serious notion, I'm excited to rock some new clothes, though giving up year round flip flops will be a bit of a drag. Some of my favorite Fall trends are below:

 

Lace. I am a girl who loves to wear lingerie as clothes (as a young little 20 something in New York I'd rock a slip/nightie and a cardigan and be all set) so this lace trend is an old favorite. Though I have progressed from wearing little more than underwear to brunch, I'd definitely buy a lace dress this season- it's sexy, feminine, and very beautiful. And also slightly Italian widowesque, which is always hot if done right. Don't you just love this old Dolce and Gabbana ad too? Nobody does the sexy Italian widow thing like them. Bravo to Dolce- I'd love to rock a Dolce lace dress this season. Probably vintage.

 

 

The Mac. I am a HUGE fan of this style of coat- unstructured, unfettered, and most definitely not fussy. It's a lovely counterpart to a femmey dress, and also goes great with a cropped pant and a sweater and some high heeled loafers.  And there's plenty of room in there for all the carbo loading you'll inevitably do this winter. Loves it.

 

Flirty forties dresses. Yes I know this is a bit reminiscent of grunge, which I am most definitely not a fan of. But a pretty patterned dress like these with black tights is just so damn pretty. I'm doing it. Are you? Perhaps with a high heeled mary jane? The Miu Miu printed numbers could def be contenders for most coveted dresses of the season.

And speaking of which, you know I always need to declare a dress THE dress of the season. And that dress would be the Stella McCartney number rocked by none other than Jane Fonda, and then here again by her royal hotness, Stephanie Seymour, in the pages of the September Elle (where I begrudgingly admit that Gwyneth Paltrow looks fabulous). Now this dress is not an easy one to wear, but I reckon there will be various iterations of it on the high street and Main Street- and if you can't figure out how to wear something so bare, go with a pair of dotted tights- a perfect way to get in on the trend (dots all over the runway at Marc Jacobs for Fall too). A dotted leg is lovely with a short black dress, or with a knee length dress- lovely. Just like you. And you too.

 

There's loads  more to talk about when it comes to fall fash- but you'll just have to wait till tomorrow. R. Kelly is singing "Happy People", and it's my cue to get to it. Hope you're happy where you are today, and thinking about what to wear this Fall. All the love, and that's what's up this I wanna get dressed, I wanna go out kinda happy Monday in the MIA. XO

Good morning, Friday. It's another pretty day here in the city of bro-therly love. Khan is enjoying his time in the city- he digs all the pretty girls, parks, and construction workers that call him "the big guy".

Admittedly, I have never been a huge Philly fan- it's that "I grew up here and couldn't wait to get out" kind of thing that had me tainted for years. But walking around yesterday, I realized it's a great little big city- managable, full of lovely coffee shops and restaurants, and decent shopping. Rittenhouse Square feels a bit like Paris, I'll have you know- with all of the outdoor cafes that have those chairs that all face the street- it's been said that the Parkway here was modeled after the Champs Elysees, so there you have it.

Oh and Philly is rad because Dr. J played here, back in the day. When I was wee, the Sixers were heaven sent. Here's number Six being awesome, and here's Khan rocking his jersey, last night. Philly is coolness because Khan is here, and Dr. J was here, and I am here, living, breathing, and happy to be in a city that has a center of some substance (sorry Miami). Oh and La Colombe coffee..amazing.

Hope you are somewhere awesome as well, with good coffee and a basketball legacy of some kind. All the love and have a great weekend- cause that's what's up this hoopy Friday in the 215. XO

Hi, Thursday. It's lovely weather here in my hometown of Philly today, and the breakfast at the Four Seasons is really freaking good. Khan is happily atop the bed, watching the Today Show with me. We are obsessed with this new "sugar baby" (or at least new in term) phenomenon, with this website called seekingarrangement.com and such. Donny Deutsch is defending the sugar babies, quel surpris.

But listen, I may not need money for tuition or student loans, but perhaps an arrangement is in order to purchase thse very fabulous looks from the Mulleavy sisters of Rodarte for Opening Ceremony. I could go full sugar baby (sugar maturish lady not baby) for this collection. Genius. Since many people are talking about the uselessness of a four year ride, maybe an investment in a great wardrobe is a greater source of enrichment?  Sugar babies, take heed. Sugar daddies, open your wallets stat-ish. Here are my fav pieces as posted on Fashionolgie this am. Divine.

 

I must leave you now, sugar babes. I have tons of work to do, and need to go go go. Cause that's what's up this clothing allowance in lieu of tuitionof a Thursday in the MIA. Stimulate that economy, daddies. XO

Hi, Wednesday...thanks to my spin teacher for that 6 am jump off today. Much needed. And noted.

The fam (David, Khan, and I) are off to Motown Philly (back again) for a little east coast and family style swing. Pray to the dog Gods that Khanny does well on the plane- he's done it before, but you know....catch you all tomorrow. Have a fabulous day- oh and remember yesterday I shouted out Demi Moore's St. Elmo's style? Check it below...genius. Now she shills for Ann Taylor but no matter. These looks are divine, though there are very few stills available from the movie, so go forth and Netflix I'll wait.

Cause that's what's up this brotherly love kind of Wednesday in the 305, en route to the 215. Looking forward to a good pretzel and maybe a meal at Barbuzzo, whose food impressed me mucho last time I was home. XO.

Good morning, Tuesday. I'm not much of a 2012 type (well maybe a little), but the Mayans may have been on to something. The world is disordered, to say the very least. I hope all of my friends in London are safe and all of those that have beaucoup bucks in the market are thinking of alternatives (depending on who you listen to, it's either Armageddon for the markets or this credit/debt debacle means nothing. Mixed messages, anyone?), maybe socking some money under one's mattress is the way to go these days.

In light of all of this insanity, you might think my generation, certainly now old enough, to remember what are often referred to as the "good old days", would look back on bygone days, bi level haircuts, and boy bands as a simpler, happier time. Nope. We're not the nostalgic sort.

I loved Carl Wilson's piece this past weekend in the Times Magazine entitled 'My So-Called Adulthood' (he's my latest writer crush, PS. I dig what he's throwing down) all about how my generation, X, is not so big on all of this grunge revivalism taking flight. After all, we are the generation that grew up with Happy Days on TV, and because of our inbred and intuitive cynicism, we can't seem to get down with this notion of nostalgia, with many of us crying "too soon". Maybe part of it is that we don't want to feel old, and when 80s songs on the radio are suddenly called "oldies", we bristle in our Chuck Taylors. How is it possible we have gotten so old so quickly? And is the cycle for recycling getting shorter? (Not really, as 20 years seems to be the rule of thumb for back in the day these days...)

I love Wilson's take on my generation, our generation, I should say. He claims we were distinguishable by two character traits: " our dislike of nostalgia and our irritation whenever our barely formed narratives were appropriated and marketed back at us. So it brings on something of an identity crisis to see Gen X's formative years become part of the cycle of retro-revivalism. How does an anti-nostalgic generation deal with the human reflex to sentimentalize its youth?" Good fucking question. I am not sure we know how, although some of us, to be fair, never left the grunge era (I see loads of dudes my age in flannel and combat boots and Chucks. They're called advertising creatives) or the 80s for that matter (you know who you are, you Tones on Tail listening fool).

At a time in our American (and global) epoch when things indeed seem dire, nostalgia always creeps in as a way to comfort us, to show us the way things used to be in contrast to how terrible they are now. But Gen X is indeed too cynical for such high levels of warm and fuzzy, and so we remain entrenched in now, and tomorrow. Sure, we watch John Hughes films and remember where we were when we heard Kurt Cobain was dead, but I'm not sure we're capable of full on nostalgic revelry. Maybe it's that aforementioned refusal to grow up, that arrested development I know I feel, and many of my fellow Coupland era Xers feel as well. I'm not really sure- but I for one am needing something to get me over this very spiny hump.

Which brings me to St. Elmo's Fire, which I watched last night and remembered how special of a little film that was. It includes all of the Brat Packers, and it's a fashion triumph all around (Judd Nelson's rolled up sleeves and popped collar on his suit, Ally Sheedy's pearls, which remain on in a sex scene with a baggy intellectual Andy McCarthy, cuter than I remember PS, Rob Lowe being insanely pretty with the ultimate bedhead, and Demi Moore, elegantly wasted and wearing absolutely amazing clothes fitting of an 80s party girl). I can't say I felt nostalgic watching the movie, but I did remember how good it was, how great these actors were, and did wonder where is this generation's St. Elmo's. That's more what we're wondering I think- why is this generation, although admirably optimistic, not coming out with better music and films that reflect their culture (the Social Network doesn't count)? That reflect their values, their attitudes towards relationships and life? Or are they simply too busy adopting our style, our music, and our contribution to pop culture?

Regardless of what generational crew you roll with, all of us are wondering why this moment in life feels so icky, so scarring, and so out of control. If my generation is too cynical to refer to anything as a better, simpler time, then surely the Y set is going to struggle with the same thing, because they're not growing up in simple times. At all (#wherearethefuckingjobs).

Here is the link to the piece in the Times, it was a great glance at a generation that was one of the first to be marketed to, and to ultimately turn their back on all of it, because we had to grow up, or at least pretend to. What I do know is I relate very closely to my generation, and if I'm not exactly yearning for "back in the day", I am feeling in touch with how I grew up, and what my influences and interests from that time did to create this brand called me.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/07/magazine/the-gen-x-nostalgia-boom.html

Hope whatever beliefs or mindset you buy into today is helping you lens what's going on in the here and now. It's rough out there, people. Do whatever you need to do. May I suggest a bad/yet oh so good 80s movie to help ease the pain? Cause that's what's up this not necessarily nostalgic Tuesday in the 305. XO

Hiya, Monday. It's crap weather here in the MIA and all one wants to do is crawl back in bed with a big latte and watch one's favorite vapid programs (I think I speak for all of us,non?) but alas, duty calls.

I've been thinking all weekend about writing some insightful post about the country's crappy credit rating and how China has become the disappointed and scornful parent of US affairs, how Texas politicos are staging huge rallies and joining hands in prayer to help save us all in the name of Jesus, and how the divisive nature of the 2012 election will be bigger than any thrilla in Manila, and with more press and ribald tabloid coverage than any match up in history. I  also wanted to talk about the disastrous op ed pieces I read in the NY Times this weekend about how Obama let us down, and how London is burning (with boredom now or discontent?) and how the 90s are back and my generation is still too cynical and disenfranchised to give a shit about nostalgia. And then I just got super depressed. I mean, who wouldn't?  The world is in a coma, I know, I know- and it's serious (hope you enjoyed the Smiths reference there, it was more for my amusement, really but no matter).

Anyhoo, it's not up to me to fix the world or suggest how to, though I would imagine that if top surgeons were standing over a bleeding near corpse, they would stop shouting at each other and try to keep that poor sucker alive. And that's all I'm going to say about that, for now anyway.

So these serious times call for some serious clothes, wouldn't you say? Even Testino is feeling the dour climate by dosing us with this tasty story in September's British Vogue, with the gorgeous duo of Arizona Muse and Freja Beha Erichsen (say that three times fast, won't you?). I would say these are lovely, somber clothes for the state we are all in, together. And how beautiful they are- Testino of the usually sunny, Brazilian disposition has taken a turn into sobriety- and man, is it beautiful. I love the sort of Northern Renaissance/holy/pious conceit of these images. Divinely serious and just right for, well, nowish.  Fashion saves, people. Don't kid yourselves.

 

Enjoy these photos while you contemplate all that is awry- cause that's what's up this world gone mad kind of Monday in the MIA. At least we have fashion. Thank the Lord. XO

 

Good morning, Friday, you freaky little monkey. Here we are, end of another week, and those of of us in Miami are happy to hear that this Emily has now been downgraded to nothing more than a couple of extra hours in bed with a good book (a little rain, not much more). Phew. That's good news. And speaking of news- it's been a wacky week, hasn't it?

The stock market is going all 2008, we took out another one of Ghadaffi's family members (what the hell is up in Libya anyway? Forgot we were still there), and Vanity Fair releases its best dressed list, while Mark Zuckerberg gets the stellar honor of worst dressed in Silicon Valley. Sigh.

But then I'm reading my various zillions of sites last night, and found out the Chelsea Hotel, c'est mort. Now I don't want you to think I am running some sort of New York deathwatch blog here (they already have those), but Lord- another one bites the dust??? As I contemplate going back to the city soon for good, I can't help but shake a little in my motorcycle boots when I hear about all of these hallowed spots going bye bye. The fucking Chelsea, man. Site of more artists, debauchery, and punk rock intrigue than most- Dylans of all sorts (Thomas and Bob), Sid and Nancy, Warhol, Janis Joplin, Herbert Huncke, Mapplethorpe and Patti- the list of famous inhabitants is endless, really.  I always used to fantasize about living there, but knew I was not even remotely cool enough to do so. Plus I am afraid of ghosts, but that's not here nor there. Because some epic ghosts roam those halls, and now some big real estate firm bought the place for $80 million, and is most likely going to turn it into some fancy hotel.  Sid and Nancy didn't make it, and the Chelsea is having a bit of a tragic end as well, which somehow seems fitting.

Listen, I am all for change, but does everything super cool and dope and authentic in New York have to end up being commodotized? I can't bear it. And what will happen to El Quijote, the Mexican place on the ground floor? I have stumbled out of there quite a few times, and will miss doing so again. I suppose to survive you have to adapt, but man, this one hurts. More than the Mars Bar, more than the Limelight, more than most. Uch. How will New York survive without these cool icons as acknowledgements of its past? By making money, because at the heart of New York, is a big fat pay day. Always. Money makes New York go around, not a dustbin of a hotel with a famous guest list. It's true. To survive, we must thrive. Does France do this to their venerable landmarks? I think not, but they also don't have air conditioning. Just saying. Progress has a price.

Which brings me to Jane Fonda. Yea, I know it's a weird connection. But check it- Ms. Fonda was once a revolutionary with a cool haircut, and now look at her in the September Bazaar. I have always loved Fonda- Barbarella, Barefoot in the Park, Klute, They Shoot Horses, Don't They?- all brilliant films infused by her iconic strong beauty. Just adore me some Jane and yes, this lady has some serious Ted Turner pay day to keep her looking young, but da-amn. If this is what surviving well into advanced age means, sign me up and G-d bless. Good genes or good docs? It's no matter, this woman is quite something, no?  To stay alive, we must survive. And vice versa-  she looks amazing, doesn't she? And digging the Stella McCartney dress. Hot.

 Well that's all Ihave to say really- I have not quite figured out the perfect balance to surviving this world - though I am grateful to my friends, muses, online music channels, coffee, Barrington Levy, and New York to continuing to feed me. If you can't bear the changes, you'll never make it. So I say give pause, pour one out for New York institutions like the Chelsea being finished as we know them, and somehow find the strength to look forward to what they will become. And as for Jane Fonda, I'll have what she's having. She makes survival sexy.

And that's what's up this nothing is forever kind of Friday in the MIA. Look alive. It's tough out there. XO