Oy, Wednesday you are killing me. So much work to be done. So. Much. Work. Always that way before a few days off but it's cool..for now, it's all business, kids. All business (this is what I would like to wear in my fantasy of what all business should look like. ha). Promise to bring it back tomorrow and beyond...going to Nashville tomorrow night and quite excited...
Good morning, my cute little Tuesday. Nice to see you. Two days till Nashville, though the forecast is calling for rain. Guess that means we'll be spending much time indoors, listening to some good music, and downing a few Jack and Cokes. I can live with that.
Something else I can live with is Rihanna's look at the Billboard Awards, in that sick white suit from Max Azria. Listen, Rihanna's look usually leaves me cold- I never want to stay under her umbrella (ella) because it's a bit too over the top for my tastes. But this suit is elegant, modern, and simply sensational on her. Thus begins this season's love affair with the all white suit.
Lest you think you can't pull this off because of some weird hangup about the revealing nature of white, think again. There are all sorts of silhouettes to flatter any variety of figures. And I think white feels great for this summer, because it's not only "cool", but we are all in need of freshness, purity, and a sort of rebirth. We've all been through it and can surely use the boost that wearing white can provide. I find it terribly sexy- a cross pollination of a young Bianca Jagger bred with a touch of Lapo Elkann and more than a heaping teaspoon of Tom Wolfe, with absolutely no trace of Sonny Crockett, if that's a concern. Tomboyish looks have always been a genre of dressing I am drawn to- since I can look a bit too "buoyant" in traditional feminine silhouettes, I like the suggestion of curves that menswear provides. Oh and the confidence it exudes as well. There's nothing like all white, baby. And with Memorial Day approaching, you should feel free to use Monday as a jump off for your all white odyssey. I hate that rule PS, but some of you are purists, and I respect that.
Oh and if you don't feel you can do alllll white, def invest in a cool white jacket, to wear with jeans and some tribal jewelry as my old intern wore last night when I met her for drinks. It's a great way for a little white to go a long way, and ethnic jewelry warms the whole look up and makes it feel less medical, if that's your concern. Or you could rock it Balmain style for evening with some metallics to be pretty much cooler than anyone else around you.
And if you think you can't afford such heavenly whiteness, look no further than this amazing shot by Garance Dore of her pal in all white. I love love love this look- the Chucks, the denim shirt. It's so chic it hurts. J'adore. Amazingly chic.
Regardless of which look you choose and whether you go high end or more low rent, promise me you will put a Tide stain stick in your purse. I promise you it will come in handy. I myself am a bit of a pig pen so that's a must have to accompany any attempt at white on white.
And that's what's up this whiter shade of pale of a Tuesday in the MIA. And as the Pixies so aptly put it, "Into the White" we go. XO
Hi, Monday. Just hi for now.
So there was no rapture to speak of- not much of a surprise there, really. But I was kind of looking forward to looting. Quel drag.
Besides being rapture free, this was a significant weekend in that I didn't have work to do. I managed to go to the gym (twice), get a lot of stuff done around the house, and generally just laze about. I also managed a self imposed digital exile on myself- barely looked at my computer and decided to read all my new mags, newspapers, and books instead. I know none of this sounds terribly exciting, but trust me, it was. We are all so often working 24/7/365 that we barely have time to buy toilet paper (isn't there an app for that yet?). So having time to just sit by my pool, read the Sunday Times and listen to music felt indulgent and decadent. I recall a time when those two adjectives had more to do with alcohol soaked evenings at some Manhattan boite, but now some quiet time feels much more hedonistic, since I too am always running around like a loon.
I have to learn to enjoy and appreciate the wonder of free time more- I've sort of become that person who can't slow down. I notice this now because I have a dog, who follows me wherever I go, which made me realize how much I run around my own apartment. This weekend found him much happier to just chill with me, and the fact that he had this new Himalayan bone thing, which he is obsessed with. There is great joy in the every day, in things that used to seem mundane. I'm not sure many of us appreciate just chilling out anymore, and the art of doing nothing is kind of lost on us. There is great luxury in "free" time- never before have I associated the words "free" and "luxury" together, but here I am doing it. Because as great as spendy luxury items can be, think of how much 24/7/365 effort we need to put forth to purchase them. In light of the past few years of downturn, let's make an effort to enjoy the free stuff, shall we? Because relaxing and laughing at your dog and reading the latest issue of Vogue in the sunshine t are more valuable than any "it" bag. Just remember that.
And that's what's up this back to it of a Monday in the MIA. XO
Ooh, Friday. You're here. In love with you. But duty calls, so have to cut my adoration short. The hour is upon us, and there's much to do.
Tomorrow is the supposed rapture, as a Jew I'm fairly confident I'm going to be sticking around, but if the world is getting jacked up around 6 pm tomorrow, my mind already wanders to what one should wear when the shit goes down, and apres shit going down of course.
Listen, post apocalyptic fashion is not a new concept. You need only look to films like Road warrior, Mad Max, Escape from New York, Repo Man, the Highlander and many others to get the look right. Call it Snake Pliskin chic. In terms of female sources of inspiration, I'm going to have to go with Tina Turner and Grace Jones, both stalwart followers of a sort of world in ruins aesthetic. (And if Ms. Jones's 'I'm not Perfect, But I'm Perfect for You', is not an apt song for the slim pickins world of mating when the masses are no more, I don't know what is...that and 'So Lonely' by The Police).
So in essence, and since there will be looting and I will have my choice of garb (you looters in New York will be the luckiest of all. I'm mad jealous, yo), I'm going to go with the following laundry list of designers:
Balmain- nothing better for looting and pillaging and surviving than a tight ripped up dress, or a military jacket on acid.
Alaia- middle shot is inspired by, but rest are keepers- a structured Alaia will be suitable armor for the elements and inevitable scourges in the days to come. Oh and can't you not see assembling an all female army clad in the last two shots above? We still need to be sexy after all- and once all the pious types rae gone, we can be as debauched as we want. These looks are perfect for wanton lust in a post rapture paradise, here on Earth.
Mcqueen- You can't go anywhere without McQueen in the post rapture world. I mean this.
Gareth Pugh- Absolutely perfect for a good looting spree and possible fresh kill of something to stave off those hunger pangs. The veg at Whole Foods will only stay fresh for so long. Then what?
Ann Demeulemeester (mixed and matched with any other member of the Antwerp Six)- true, a bit grungy, but apropos for the dark days that will follow, and will also help you remember the words to "Never Mind".
Margiela- you know Jay Z. will be rocking Mar-gi-ela. And hopefully so will I. Long live the Maison.
And if you need further style tips on how to appropriately dress for rapturing, look no further than Chanel's fall runway 2011. Tell me that does not look like a very chic death dirge. It's apparent Karl Lagerfeld loves a good rapture, as evidenced by the constantly overjoyed look on his face. And his runway for Fall, of course. (Oh and this little hooded number from his namesake collection back in 2009. Hoods feel right.
Apparently the Kaiser is not only perfectly thin, but also clairvoyant and saw this all coming.
So I've got the wardrobe on lockdown (once I loot accordingly), but my main struggle thus far is the appropriate bag for such endeavors. It will obviously need to be quite roomy to house a wardrobe for the deconstruction. I'm thinking you could almost get away with an army/navy store find, but Belstaff makes a version that is much more chic. And on the subject of accessories, I am so rocking this 24 karat gold bullet necklace by Bullet girl. I may break me off one of those if the times call for such things. With my teeth.
In terms of what not to wear, the list is long, and includes:
Lilly Pulitzer shift dresses
Anything coral colored
Polo shirts
Your Tri Delt sweatshirt (because I personally will feast on you)
Sundresses
Listen, the post rapture universe is for tough bitches only. Palm Beach prissies should throw in the towel now. That's all I'm saying, Christian or not Christian. So dress accordingly, will you? And map out the best stores in your town to get your loot on- it will help you stay orientated in the dark. And that's what's up this enraptured Friday in the MIA. I'll holler at you Monday...or will I? XO
Hi, Thursday...one day closer to the weekend, and it's on. Yes it is.
So the world may or not be ending on Saturday- if it does, it would not at all surprise me really. I prefer it doesn't though. I've still got some stuff to do. Like talk to you about shoes, for instance. And ponder The Terminator's choice of mistress...of all the choices...the mind puzzles.
But back to shoes. In the interest of full disclosure, though I appreciate a good shoe, I'm not exactly a "shoe girl". Purse girl? Absolutely. Product whore? Unabashedly so. But shoe gal? Meh. Sure, I'll post about a fabulous pump or wedge once in a while (I do still have lady parts, after all), but I can't ever think of a reason to spend a fortune on a pair of Miu Mius.
The reason for my general shoe apathy is multifold. For starters, I'm a huge klutz. If I am feeling wobbly in my shoes, I am feeling unstable in general, and to me that's just no good. After living in NYC for as long as I did, I am more partial to flats because you simply never knew when you might need to run. Fast. I am the type of girl that needs to feel grounded, so flats were always more my thing. That and the fact that I like to be as close to barefoot as much as I possibly can, one of the big bonuses of living in Miami is I can rock a pair of K. Jacques thongs all year round. Nothing wrong with that...and flats are unbearably chic, this much I can tell you.
Another reason I am not a big shoe gal is that my mother often told me that I am "hard on shoes" and that I tend to destroy them. I can't argue, so a $600 pair of pumps would not be well maintained on my feet. And then of course, there's the comfort issue.
I have a huge thing about comfort. I am not in any way saying I am going to rock a sensible shoe any time soon. It's just that if I feel constricted, pinched, or in pain in any way in the general area of my footsies I can't suffer it. In my mind, there is nothing worse than painful shoes- and trust me, slapping a big designer label on them (Jimmy Choo, etc.) does not guarantee comfort. Like, in any way. So comfort is key for me, and that's that.I recently had my closets organized by a brave young woman who remarked "you're not much of a shoe gal, are you"? This after she had schlepped about 100 purses to and fro and tried to make sense of my extensive collection of vintage prints and my signature black dresses, which all basically look the same to the untrained eye(but oh so different, as we know).
But I will share with you my favorite spot for comfortable heels, and since I'm not willing to spend a lot of money on shoes (I have purses to buy, mind you), I am happy to seek out heels and platforms that don't hurt in the feet or pocketbook departments. If you want comfort and moderate prices, look no further than Nine West. I have to say, every time I pass one, I generally look around, because their shoes are ridiculously freaking comfortable, especially for high heels. A recent stop in the Nine West in New York City yielded me a fabulous pair of stacked heel sandals that have me wondering how I've ever lived without them, and for about $50, my purchase was guilt free. They are chic, but also comfortable beyond recognition for high heels. You must go there if you are looking for some cute heels for summer- and since I trash all my shoes anyway, I don't mind going the less high-end route. You shouldn't either. Then again, if judgement day is upon us, maybe you can splurge a little? Or maybe you need some footwear that allows for a run away from the rapture, glamourously and comfortably of course.
Apocalypse or no apocalypse, that's my take on shoes, peeps. And I'm sticking to it. Nine West, people, Nine West. Can't go wrong...and that's what's up this moderately well heeled Thursday in the MIA. XO
It happens, I suppose. But I did spy this photo on a blog I'm really digging, Happy Mundane (http://www.happymundane.com/). Sometimes a vintage coffee cup full of colored markers fixes stuff. I don't know why, but it does. Hard to be pissy when that's sitting on your desk. I wish I had a cup full right about nowish...I don't, so I'll hang out and listen to Pat Kelly and sip my coffee and hope for the best.
Cause that's what's up this in search of some color of a Wednesday in the MIA. XO
Good morning, Tuesday. You're here and so am I so LET'S DO THIS.
I've got lots to do today and need to mine some productivity but had to take a moment or two out of the day to ask the following of you men folk: What's with all the gay jokes between you? I mean, I know some of you are insanely homophobic, but for the rest of you straight men out there, why in hell are you constantly calling each other gay? Why not just make fun of your boy's fucked up face, or his inability to close with a chick he's been seeing for 3 months? Or the way your homie can't bench as much as you at the gym? But why oh why do any of these things ultimately add up to calling each other gay? (Oh and PS, most gay guys are in better shape than you, just a PS there).
I have never understood it, like, ever. As a woman who has always dated men (I even married one), I have never once shouted over the desk to one of my female coworkers "you are SUCH a lesbian". Or, "your outfit screams your love for lady parts today" or "the way you are reaching for that latte is so butch". We would absolutely never call each other gay- it's just not something we do, and I wonder why so many dudes feel the need to do that ad infinitum. It's just not an insult we sling, and wondering how that level of diss is so indigenous to straight males. Please enlighten me. I need to know why you do this. I have my suspicions, but want them confirmed (something to do with insulting manhood I suppose). Does it really make you feel like more of a man by calling another one gay? Now that I think about this, maybe the difference between our teasing habits is not as subtle as I thought...
We women have our own way of digging, believe me. It's done behind each other's backs for the most part. Or it's telling each other to "calm down" when we get upset, which only makes us crazier. Oh and calling us crazy is pretty bad too, especially amongst ourselves. But never in my history as a card carrying member of the estrogen club have I seen a woman call another woman gay, who isn't. And with that, our lack of such slander is just another reason we're a little cooler than you, so sorry boys. That and the fact that we're taking over the television networks and taking over the comedy genre, too (take that Christopher Hitchens). Pretty soon we'll be in as many powerful positions as you are, with nary a gay joke amongst us. Honestly had to get that out there, because it's one of life's little mysteries, that and why you have to grunt at the gym so damn much (maybe go lighter on the chest presses?).
Not hatin' on the boys, just wondering. I do still love you, but really? Cause that's what's up this strange affectation of a Tuesday in the MIA. XO
Hiya Monday...here I am back in Miami...6 am spin class kicked my butt and it was jam packed. What's wrong with me and the rest of the gym zombies for getting up so early?
On another note, I have two movies to discuss with you, one old and one new. I think I'm going to start with the new and just say "Bridesmaids" was one of the funniest female films of all times (though Muriel's Wedding still very much has my heart in that genre...). Kristen Wiig is a genius, and there were many, many laughs to be had in this stitchy bit of cinema goodness that has many critics calling it the female "Hangover". What was amazing to me (besides Kristen's insanely good pilates body) was how many men there were in the audience, including my husband. I'd say it was an even split and I have to say- hats off to Ms. Wiig for bringing in the men- that's sort of unprecedented for a cast that is largely female, and further proves that women are indeed funny as hell. And that occasionally we do fart (and much more...not gonna spoil it for you).
I love the new women in comedy crossing over to make men laugh too, largely from SNL- Ms. Fey, Ms. Poehler, Ms. Rudolph and now Ms. Wiig are proving that women are funn yto all, and not just ladies. I couldn't help but think about how Jen Aniston would have loved this role, but guess what? Even though the script was pretty solid for comedy, she would not have been nearly as funny, because, well, she just isn't. Besides, she's too busy showing her boobs to the world in her next flick, as she has sort of run out of options to sell tickets. Sad. But in all seriousness, I found it amazing that men came out to see a movie called "Bridesmaids" in droves, and it certainly did not disappoint (the pic above is one of the funniest scenes in the movie). Do wear waterproof mascara though, unless you want to look like a raccoon. I tend to tear up when I'm laughing so hard.
And then I wanted to mention this Sunday's NYTimes and the piece in the arts section about the movie "Something Wild". Many of you will have no idea what I'm talking about, but back in the day when I was a wee subversive type, this little Jonathan Demme film won my heart. The soundtrack was fanastic and Melanie Griffith as the ultra cool,raven bobbed wackadoodle Lulu was my style inspiration for years to come, and still kind of is. Loving the ethnic jewelry with the all black clothing. Amazing. It was yet another one of those movies that was so stylish and downtown that I watched it a million times. It poked fun at the "yuppie" thing (Lulu kidnapped a yupster played by a young Jeff Daniels and hijinx ensues) and I never understood why this film did not gain more popularity, as it was always one of my favorites. In fact, at a recent holiday party with an 80s theme, I wanted to go as Mel Griffith from this film, but knew it wouldn't read. But I tell you who would have gotten it instantly- Bret Easton Ellis, who is quoted in the article as saying this movie greatly influenced his work and life. If you have not seen it, do. It's really quite a cool look at 80s cool, and is wacky as hell. Oh and Sister Carol's reggae tinged "Wild Thing" on the soundtrack is brilliant.
And that, mes amies, is what's up this cinematic Monday in the MIA.Let's celebrate wacky chicks, today, shall we? All the love. XO
Unless you want to, of course.
Hi, Friday. This concludes my week in New York. I had a fantastic time here and am super bummed I did not have the chance to see the McQueen show at the Met, but only sets me up for having to come back and checking it out. I know that I am not a New York native, but from the second I moved to New York way back in '93 I immediately felt home, in ways I never felt in Philadelphia. As tough as this city is, it is simply the place where I feel most like myself- my whole worldview is informed from living here for so many years, and I always find it so challenging to go back to Miami, which admittedly never really feels like home, though I love having an extra large apartment in which to fit my extra large wardrobe, made all the extra larger from my shopping adventures this week in between lots and lots of late nights working.
I love that I always feel "right" here- the way I dress (black and flats), the way I talk (directly and profanity laced), and the way I appreciate creativity and inventiveness and open mindedness. I have never understod why people say New Yorkers are rude- every time I come people are beyond nice and helpful and interested in what I have to say. How is it that I ever left here again? And the real question is, how can I come back?
I miss conversations with random folks most of all. Like being in Starbucks this am and talking to a cop about the weird Russian lady who took a sip of her coffee and then gave it back to the barista to throw away. Then somehow our chat turned to Rambo 3 and the cold war. Don't ask me why. It's just the way New York is- the banter is the plasma of this place, and it's tough to live without. And I'm not cool with living somewhere where salesgirls don't know what I mean when I say the dress I'm trying on is too much of a schmatta (the girls at DKNY on West Broadway know exactly what I mean, I'll tell you that).
But I am gratefulI had the opportunity to leave here for a while, of course- it was a huge part of my growth as a human, an amazing experience working for an inspiring company, and an antidote to the admitted anxiety I used to feel in New York from time to time, but I simply never forgot where I came from, and every time I come back here, I know why. Sure I "grew up" in Philly, but for all intents and purposes I really "grew up" in New York- I came out of my shell, finally found people that understood me, exposed myself to the amazing array of stuff this town offers, met my husband, and learned how to work smart. There's an instant shorthand here for me that I miss when I am in Miami, and for that reason alone I can never forget the city that made me who I am. It's funny that after all these years I am still in love with it- but it gives me something new every time I come- whether it's taking a great yoga class in Hell's Kitchen or feeling relieved that Trevi Deli is still on Union Square (always great relief in your old staples still sticking around for some reason), I simply am mad for New York and always will be. And just because I live somewhere else, I'm not going to allow that peculiar town of Miami take any of my New Yorkness away (I tried, it didn't take). The spiritual among you will argue that you are always "home" no matter what as long as you are true to yourself, and that is a true to a point. And I am happier than I've ever been with who I am, but a decent bagel and some people that simply know how to get shit done wouldn't suck.
It's not a sadness at al about going back to Miami, so don't cry for me. I feel grateful that I get to visit and engage with all of my lovely friends- for now that will have to do. But as I shoot through the Midtown Tunnel this afternoon en route to La Guardia, I will gaze at the beautiful skylight to etch its power into my brain, until the next time I see it again. And to always help me remember where I'm from, and how I got here. Big ups to the 212. You killed it this week. I love you with all my heart.
And that's what's up this best place on Earth of a Friday in the MIA. Wherever you're from, love it today would you? XO
Like a Rebecca Minkoff sample sale, she of the bags that we covet and hoard. What women will do for a Morning After Bag (and at sample sale prices, who can blame them really?).
And that's what's up this baggy Thursday in the 212. Yes, I am still here...was not quite done . XO
(For all of you bagaholics in the 212, the sale is at 155 Fifth Avenue, ending Sunday). Link below with pricing:
http://ny.racked.com/archives/2011/05/10/mountains_of_mabs_macs_and_mini_bags...