the world according to sherimaven

Good morning, Monday...lovely weekend in the MIA- found myself enjoying just hanging out- getting hotter and hotter here so let the self imposed air conditioned hibernation begin.

 

As I was catching up on some reading this weekend, I spotted something amazing in the last page of Vogue, which made my heart race. The last page of Vogue always features items that are super over the top, and  insanely coveted. Check out Eddie Borgo's amazing padlocked pieces a la Sid Vicious, albeit much more glam (the bracelets were featured in Vogue). And with royal wedding watch on full alert, it's true I have a bit of Britmania on speed dial these days, so can't help but think about the days of real punk, a fantastically British construct which mesmerized me for it's major middle finger approach to dressing. Borgo's pieces are super rock and roll/punk/tough/chic/fantastic. I want.

 

Needless to say, I am beyond obsessed with these pieces, and a quick spin on his website reveals some pieces that I'm not sure I can live without. I adore the play on tough punk pieces, done in precious metals and diamonds. Not exactly what the Pistols intended most likely, but love the spin on it nonetheless. There are very few things on the site that I don't like- I love fine jewels that are not so self important- imagine any of these amazing pieces with a wardrobe full of Alex Wang tees- you need not do a lot when you have pieces this amazing (how great would it be to wear one of these as a bride? Why not bring some glam into the old ball and chain analogy?) Besides all of that, I've always loved bike messenger style, the way they wrap their bike chains around them like some sort of urban armor. I'm all for heavy pieces like these that are decidedly more hardware, and somehow tribal in their own way.  Check out his site for many more of his pieces...they are all inspired by a streety/punk vibe that I am more than digging...and that's what's up this rebellious, holiday in the sun kind of a Monday in the MIA. XO

http://eddieborgo.com/

Hey, Friday...you're rad, and that's that.

I posed a question on Facebook the other day about who's better- Oasis or Blur. Many said Blur. And though I love them, I love Oasis more.

Blur may have more edge, but Oasis is just a cool band, with built in sibling rivarly, and hot girlfriends and wives to boot. They're simply perfect in my book, wrote some great songs back in the day, and their style was off the bloody chain. I thought I'd share one of my photos from those very heady "cool Brittania" days- I confess that I have always been a consummate (emphasis on consume) Anglophile- yea the French and Italians are fantastic, but I have always connected with the Brits- their wit, their eccentricity, their style, their incredible ability to have cool haircuts. And of course, their music. Their amazing ablility to make some damn fine music.

As a huge huge fan of all things UK, I remember seeing this Vanity Fair cover back in 1997 and thinking it was simply the coolest thing ever, and I have to say, it still holds up. A smoking Patsy Kensit and an even more smoking and snarly and elegantly wasted/bored/pissed looking Liam Gallagher in a Union Jack themed bed, with the headline "London Swings Again!" I will never forget that cover, which pretty much sealed my ongoing love for Oasis. Thought I would share this visual from back in the day to usher in the weekend. Oasis or Blur, it doesn't matter who you prefer. But recognize how cool the music was from that short little era. Fantastic. Funny that a Blur song is playing on my shuffle right now...Yuko and Hiro. Good one...

And that's what's up this swingin' Friday in the MIA. All the love for the weekend. You're all hot models and rockstars to me, really. XO

Hi, everyone. It's a sunny day and I'm rediscovering the joys of wearing vintage and feeling generally a'ight.

I ran into a friend of mine yesterday who invited me to the screening next week of Bill Cunningham's new film, "Bill Cunningham, New York". Having read Sunday Styles since what feels like gestation, I am most excited to see this amazing documentary about a man who has shared his fantastic photos of street fashion in the New York Times for years. I always look forward to scanning those photos, looking for fashion cues and clues to decode what's now in the best city in the whole world.  And as a young lass in Philadelphia, I studied his column of photos with a combination of jealousy, passion, and a "when in the world am I moving to New York already" rabid curiosity. Maybe if you are a New Yorker, you have been lucky enough (or chic enough) to be captured by his intrepid eye.

Cunningham was doing this way before the Sartorialist, way before Tommy Ton, and way before anyone else was so hyped on viewing pictures of street fashion. Though I love all of the above photographers beaucoup de beaucoup, I always like to consider the source, and that source is the inmitiable Bill Cunningham. If this film is playing near you somewhere, do go to see it. It's inspiring to watch a film about how somebody sees, and with so much honesty. Not to mention a spidey like sense for ethnography and cultural documentation, all captured while on a bicycle. He is the ultimate fashion historian and I can't wait to see the film. LOVE.

C'est tout, my kitties. Cause that's what's up this streetwise Thursday in the MIA. Wear something worth photographing today, won't you? XO

 

 

 

Hi, Wednesday...did my thing this am and went to the gym super early, so feeling pretty ace at the moment while I drink some coffee and listen to a little Aaliyah (How great was she? More than a Woman? Love).

Last night over a lovely bottle of Loire Valley rosé, I realized I wanted to open up the floor to all of you who have been so encouraging and faithfully read these humble posts. Starting next week, I'll be doling out some advice, fashion or otherwise (whatever you want), once a week in a sort of "Ask Maven" column if you will. So send me your questions no later than Sunday and I will craft an answer for you...really think of anything- I'm not pretending to know everything, but surely i can give you a bit of point of view, non? Do it. If you have questions, email me at sherimaven@gmail.com. I'm happy to answer...just don't ask me about math. I suck at that.

In other news,  I was not even going to mention the hoo ha surrounding Ms. Jenna Lyons of J. Crew fame, and her controversial ad featuring her young son, in painted, neon pink toenails. Listen, I don't want to give this ridiculous assassination on her character too much attention- but you kind of have to worry about a nation that freaks out when they see a little boy in toenail polish. Maybe Ms. Lyons only mistake was overestimating the intelligence and sense of humor of the American public- in Europe, would this really be as big a deal, I wonder? It boggles the mind truly, in an age of deep financial hardship, natural disasters, and widespread pain and suffering that this many idiots would be so concerned about such things. And that's all I'm going to say, as trying to figure out why people in this country are so Victorian is futile. But at least if there's a witch hunt, Jenna Lyons will surely have the best wardrobe for an inquisition, non?

So back to the advice column- ask away. I'll be awaiting your responses in my inbox on all matters. Still trying to figure out what day to post the column, but I'll get there. Cause that's what's up this hot pink Wednesday in the MIA. Send your inquiries to sherimaven@gmail.com. I'm just here to help. XO

 

 

Good morning, Tuesday. It's hot hot hot and super frizzy outside, but I'm chillin' indoors and sippin' on some iced latte. I'm still loving those images from yesterday's post on all things festival fashion- so naturally I'm still thinking about summertime and music and easy, breezy style. And for this level of thinking, let's go long. As in long skirts (maxis if you will). Some of these looks I'm showing may feel more Autumnal, but you can easily adapt this look by doing some brighter colors, and some more lightweight fabrics- leather is coming in very light these days and if you live somewhere that isn't Miami, you can tots rock a lighter leather with a tank and a long skirt and hello, gorgeous.

I have always been a fan of long skirts, but admittedly have not worn them much in past few years. I love the slouchy, comfy subtle nature of a long skirt length- my take would be to rock it with a slouchy top, off one shoulder, and perhaps a hat- you know I love the gypset look so would keep things very Goa while embracing the new lower length. Now, now. I know many of you are not Amazonian, and nor am I. True this look works great with long limbs, but there's no reason the shorties can't rock this too. One thing I would mention is that if you are a gal who has hips and thighs that are healthy, I would make sure the waist of your long skirt starts a bit lower or drops- and although these pleated jobbers are adorable, any pleats starting at the natural waist are a big non non, unless you want to look odd, or unless of course you're built like the pick end of an ice pick.

I find this look to look altogether modern and less peace and love if you rock it with something a bit tough- try a thin motorcycle jacket, vintage tee, or loose tux jacket- your boyfriend's would be genius. You know how I feel about mixing the hard and the soft- for me this is the chicest thing in the world and love the play on masculine and feminine, tough and sweet together. The Parisians excel at this- now you can, too.

As for shoes, it's best to wear a flat sandal- I dig it with the t strap types that are out now, or even a flat oxford from the likes of Repetto if that's your vibe. Heels can be done but they need to be ankle booties- a pump would look bad- and you could rock a high heeled sandal, but only if the skirt is mid ankle, and not all the way to the ground. Proportionally, it's better this way- trust me.

All in all, this is a fab look for Spring, and you don't even need to worry about your legs being too pasty to wear it. Just have fun with it and remember to mix mediums (tough with sweet, fem with masculine, slouchy with clingy) for the best effect. And enjoy wearing a long length for a change- it's a great look for now- if you can't go all the way low low low do the new just past the knee thing- it's super cute and fresh and I for one am a fan...so go long, ladies. Go long. At least I know what that means in fashion, because admittedly I'm not so sure of the meaning when it comes to football. And that, my friends and fam, is what's up this lengthy Tuesday in the MIA. This Spring, why not take it down a notch?  XO

Hey, Monday. Was a lovely weekend of late breakfasts and hanging in with my lovely husband and pup. Very much enjoyed it...Spring is indeed here, and in Miami, that means beaucoup de HEAT.  If you must be outside, you need to dress appropriately- cotton is the only way, really.

And speaking of dressing for the great outdoors, Coachella begins on Friday, that ultimate fest of fun out in the desert of Cali. I have written many times here about my love for this kind of summery style, and how much I adore it. I know a few peeps going, but even for those of us not lucky enough to attend, we can still take some style cues from all things festival fash. If I was going, I would probably pack the following:

 

A crocheted minidress of some kind a la Kate Bosworth

A brown beat up belt and brown short boots, also distressed

Denim shorts (bien sur)

A few peppy scarves

Lots of necklaces and jewelry

A gauzy hippy top

Tissue thin tees to layer

One pair of flared striped trousers, low rise

Menswear vest, vintage- in case you need to butch things up a bit

Short tee shirt dresses, no longer than mid-thigh

Loose, flowy dresses, preferably one floral print

Sexy, colorful bras to peek out from underneath all of the above

HATS - a floppy, a panama (a top hat if you can rock it and feel like really going for it)

Aviators

Lace up gladiator sandals, flat

Moroccan leather crossbody handbag, or any crossbody with fringe

 

This is a very modest list I know- I didn't even include a bathing suit here (I would if I were you), but whatever- it's just a way to get inspired by what will surely be a prime fashion watching paradise. I've attached some photos for inspiration, in case you are struggling with stuffing your suitcase with just ther right things.  My favorite festival fashion types are the inimitable Kate Moss and that other Kate, Kate Bosworth. And there's something about the blonde sexy/rocker thing feels right on point at such events- look no further than Keith and Anita to drive this not so subtle point home (who in the world ever looked cooler than them?) as well as the amazingly foxy Stevie Nicks, the picture of rock chick chic. Oh and if you're young and leggy, Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver is a good little look to channel. PS- festivals are all about showing some leg, so get to lunging already would you? You've only got a few days, dearies. .  So enjoy your festival activities or just channel such happiness by dressing like your favorite cool chicks...it's that time of year, and it's just the right thing to do. Cause that's what's up this cooler than cool (but really HOT) Monday in the MIA. XO.

 

 

Freaky Friday you damn well thrill me. Happy for your much ballyhooed arrival. Yesss.

So I've been fairly contemplative this week, so let me go back to something a bit more pop today and talk about Richard Ashcroft of the Verve. I love him. Always have. Always will. Love his voice, love his look, obsessed with his jagged crag of a profile as well as his amazingly good hair (why do British rock types always have the best damn hair? It seems unfair) and pencil thin frame. I have always been partial to the broody type, sitting alone in a darkened corner, wanting to tell everyone to go the hell away. Except for me of course (haha). It's a Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights kind of thing that burrowed into my subconscience. I've never been one for the lampshade on the head kind of goofy dude. Give me the silent, dark, mysterious type any day.

I'm a bit tapped today in terms of energy and having a listen to "A Northern Soul" as I await the weekend is making me very, very happy indeed. It's not altogether that cheery really, but I dig the moodiness and haziness of it.  If you haven't listened to any Verve of late or any of his amazing solo work, do it His voice is so rich, deep, and soulful. How can you not love the line from "So It Goes" off A Northern Soul: "I'm just a poor little wifeless fella. Another drink and I won't miss her". J'adore. Poor little guy.  Needless to say, his style is off the bloody hook.His It's a nice accompaniment to easing on into the weekend. Bliss...

And that's what's up this bittersweet symph of a Friday in the MIA. Much love and hope you have a great weekend...XO

Hi, Thursday. You are here and so am I. Very much so, in fact.

Today I realized I have posted over 400 entries on this blog, of which I am quite proud. I started this blog for the sheer hell of it, and to commit to doing something every day, for a few moments, that allowed me to feel creative and inspired. I placed no weight on whether people would read it or not (though I obviously hoped so), or whether it would lead to a staff job at glamorous magazine where everyone had expensive haircuts. I started it to simply share my thoughts, practice my writing in a disciplined fashion each and every day, and make sure I had fun doing it. And boy, have I. I've been touched by all of your amazing comments, encouragement, and feedback. And guess what? Just doing something for the sheer love of it allowed me to leave my job and explore some new aveneus, and do some legit writing for some great enterprises. I'm now fully focused on continuing to do so, but I think it's only because I allowed this little blog to happen organically, with no expectations whatsoever.

Too often I've been guilty of pushing with all my might to make things happen in my life. I have never, ever been the kind of girl who didn't have to create my own magic and change- and because of that, I have always felt the insatiable need to push, push, push. Inevitably that has led to me getting what I "think" I want, though the "get" was always more exciting than the end result. So I decided a bit ago to let go a bit and not push so hard and just let some things unfold, while exploring the things I love. And voila, here I am. And here you are, reading this happy little post.

I'm thinking of all of this not just because of the volume of posts on this here blog, but because I've recently spoken to two people, very special to me, that are going through their own version of "what am I doing" that I mentioned yesterday. One is 24, one is close to 60. Clearly they are at different points in their lives, but both have similar issues. The young one is feeling a lot of pressure from her family to "figure it out", get a job, and be a card carrying member of white collar society. The other is an empty nester who is brilliant and talented but a bit lost in her own skin and wondering where to go next. What's interesting about both scenarios is that I gave them the same advice, regardless of their age or standing in the food chain. I told them both to stop looking so hard for stuff and do something that simply interests them, for the hell of it, for the lark of it.  The 24 year old is a fashion fanatic but is daunted by the rather sordid attitudes of those types. I can't blame her there- went through a similar thing when I moved to NYC and worked for a psychotic, toxic witch of a woman at one of the top fashion houses. She was feeling like maybe she needed to go to ad school for art direction, of which I dissuaded her, because I know this girl belongs in fashion, but more on the design end of things. She said she didn't know how to sew, of which I paid no attention. My advice was to just take a class in fashion design and see how it feels, and to not try too hard to read into what it could mean for the future- just do it for the pure "doing" and enjoying of learning something new. The rest will come (ask another dear friend of mine who has left a pretty serious job to do a yoga teacher training, with no real intentions other than just learning and loving life).

The 60 year old was feeling equally mucky when I assured her that she should probably take a class as well- maybe in food writing, art history, or children's book writing- all things she is passionate about but does not see a bright future in pursuing career wise. I told her that sometimes it's not about career, it's just about expanding what we know- if knowledge is power, then how can you lose, really? I have a male friend who once joked with me that all women, at a certain age, start taking classes to make themselves feel whole.  Of course there are plenty of us that take classes in cooking, jewelry design, or memoir writing to fill some kind of void, but who cares? It's a hell of a lot better than sitting home watching "The Real Housewives", and you simply never know where these things may lead, but that path can only be traveled if you don't put too much stock in the end result of such endeavors- doing for the sake of doing and loving is the right approach, of this I am certain. And besides all of that, this thing you're looking for is probably right in front of you anyway, so stop looking so hard, would you?

The title of today's post deals with transformation, because I am fascinated by it- if not in such a broad, sweeping construct, but the opportunities we have to change and evolve and grow each day. Like my young fashion obsessed pal above, I too love fashion, but don't like the trappings of a life steeped in it. What I do love about it, most of all and first and foremost, is that, as I read in a piece in the NYT this past weekend, "fashion at it's best has the ability to transform".

I love that thinking and believe it to be true- fashion is more fun than most things in that way, and for that, fashion is a huge part of my life. Transformation, in a broader sense, can be microscopic or can be seismic. The best part is it's up to you how mythic you want it to be. I have always found "change" a terrifying word- it has a heaviness at times that has given me the shakes at less secure moments in my life. But transformation is so much warmer, so much more inviting, and makes me want to investigate exactly what it means, as I've been doing for some time now. So think about what you can do just because- whether it be classes or travel or simply fucking about for a bit until it reveals itself. I'm terribly sorry I had to get all Marianne Williamson on your sweet derrieres today, but such is my wont.

If you are feeling stuck, go deep and find that little something. And then don't think of how it will make you rich or a star or skinny- think about it and do something with it and just have some fun exploring. My husband bought me a ring once with the saying "The Journey is the Reward" inscribed upon it, and I couldn't agree more. And the best journeys are free of baggage of any kind, so be sure to travel light and enjoy the ride.

And that's what's up this self fulfilling Thursday in the MIA. XO

Hi, Wednesday. Nice day in the MIA and Khan just got a great report from the Vet, so happy for that, though he is a bit overweight, poor little dear. Is it wrong to find him so cute when he's a bit fattier and fluffed? Apparently the dude gets too many treats, and now needs to eat celery so he can be a little waif of a dog and fit into his vintage Hedi Slimane suit. Bah.

Anyway, you may be wondering why I titled today's post "What am I doing"?  I called it such because I'm not sure what the hell I am doing in 6 am spin classes, working like a complete pyscho all the time, dabbing in a million creams and potions in the hopes of a glowy complexion, and leaving very little time for anything called "life". And then I begin to wonder what the hell any of us are doing- it appears to me that we just can't stop- can't shut off, can't wind down, can't just chill. Maybe I've begun to feel uncomfortable in this Type A uniform, when really I am more Type D or E. Clearly I'm acknowledging I may be batting for the wrong team. I sometimes think I'm kidding myself with this superhuman level of devotion to everything but what I really want to be doing, which is chilling out and enjoying myself and having some bloody fun. Yes of course, I have to work like the rest of you people, but maybe if I was not so career obsessed, I would have a little more time for some of the things in life that make it worth living?

And in typical Gen X fashion, I have always felt that the generations before us fucked us royally, in every possible position you can imagine. I'm not saying this is accurate, I'm just saying that for Gen X types, we've always wanted to give the middle finger to the Woodstock and disco generations for bringing, in our mind, terrible scourges like AIDs, diminished social security stockpiles, and a phobic obsession with health in general. And don't think for a minute that many of us girls have not had at least a passing thought about how different things would be without bra burnings, Betty Friedan, and Gloria Steinhem.  Insanely grateful for the efforts of these feminist pioneers, but now harried women across the world are trying to figure out how to have it "all", which I'm not sure is even really possible- how in the world are we doing it all anyway and at what price our lives? Cut to today.

 As I sleepwalk my Type D or E ass to the gym at 5:45 am, I can't help but notice the complete influx of boomer types, fit as fiddles yet grey at the temples, smoking me on my spin bike and bench pressing the weight equivalent of a small village. Yea yea, it's great boomers are not as old as generations before, but why do they have to ruin life for the rest of us, who may look forward to one day being just "old" and happy and not feeling the need to spin to "Empire State of Mind" before the sun is even up? What happened to old people being old? Can I not even look forward to that? Am I going to have to be in better shape at 65 than I am now? Jesus Christ. Yet again,  it's no longer enough just to age- anow all of us can no longer look forward to early bird dinners and mah jjong, but tortured sessions with despotic trainers and sprints around the park, accompanied with a frantic eye on our sugars, lipids, and cholesterol. I know this is all terribly important, but feels so damn daunting, especially when I picture old age as chilling on a park bench, a bit mad in the head, drinking wine, reading lots and lots, and finally relaxing after years of rabid self obsession.

I am only half kidding, really, and may not be kidding at all but am afraid you will all think me an insensitive, sluglike, lout for saying such things. But this 24/7/364 NOW NOW NOW FIT FIT FIT ORGANIC ORGANIC ORGANIC GO GO GO MAKE IT HAPPEN YESTERDAY I RULE I WIN I TRIED HARDER THAN ANYONE existence is annoying the (organic) crap out of me. I guess what I am saying is the pressure to always be perfect, right, and on point is disastrously boring, and  a life of vices and laziness is surely more entertaining. I'm just sleepy in the brain with trying to succeed (whatever that means), and fighting things like aging, my natural tendency to want to just chill, and my insatiable need for things that are not so fantastic for me. At what point did we all become such robots and control freaks that we can't just let it go sometimes? Does the two weeks you get to take off a year really solve this problem or does it merely lull us into a quiet submission? I think not, and I can't think of a solution either other than to throw my hands up once in a while and ask "what am I doing?" as a way to check in with myself and acknowledge how ridiculous I have become, at least in my eyes. Because no matter what, at the end of another nerve wracking day ending in some organic dinner, I am still just me, and you are still just you, and no amount of roasted kale, quirky title change to your current position, or amount of upside down pole dancing class is going to change that. It may change things superficially sure, but deep down I know I can be happy without all of the above. Since when did we, as a society, become so g-ddamned responsible? Maybe I need to amend what I said above about my boomer thing- it's not that I'm pissed at them, I just wish we too could have enjoyed the reckless abandon of Studio 54, or the three martini lunch a la Mad Men. Who took the FUN out of everything? Everybody knows you technically feel better when you are in shape, "fulfilled" at the office, and eating your vegetables- so why does it feel like such servitude to get there? (If all the pain is worth it as they say, where does that leave us hedonistic, pleasure seekers? Give me pleasure over pain any day).

And when do we simply acknowledge that there is great beauty (and wisdom) in imperfection, so can we stop being so dang atelophobic and hang a little further back in the pack if we are so inclined? There's no shame in not always winning the race, you know. It's more about staying in it, the best you can.

I acknowlege that my usually sunny tone is not in evidence today, and for this I apologize. I promise to channel my happy place in the very distant future.  But once in a while I have to check in with a giant heaping WTF and wonder what happened to our society and their obsession with being so "uber" all the time. Perhaps I should move to Europe? Would that help? Or maybe even Jamaica? I'm bored with everything else. Today I'm just not so interested in being the best, but merely just being the best I can. Or furthermore, more BEING and less DOING. Cause that's what's up this make it stop of a Wednesday in the MIA, and that's that. XO

 

Good morning, Tuesday. You a steamy one today. Dang.

This weekend I was browsing my favorite local book store- Books and Books in Coral Gables. It's an absolute dream of a bookstore- love strolling through it and checking out all the new titles- they've got fab art and design and photography books in addition to everything else. I for one am very happy they are so close to home- I am not sure I could live without a good bookstore nearby, and that's that.

I really was not planning on buying anything, but could not pass up Judi Linn's photo book of Patti Smith, entitled "Patti Smith 1969-1977". Though I have never been a huge Patti fan, after reading "Just Kids" I became more than vaguely obsessed with her eerie and androgynous beauty and prose. I have always, however, recognized her style as completely fantastic and have always loved her rumpled take on womanhood. I do adore her iconic cover photo for the album "Horses"- a perfect case in point for an undone male/female thing that is altogether sexy and raw and cooler than me, you, and anyone else put together.

 

But the photos of Patti in this book are simply transcendent. I never quite realized how beautiful she really is- and these photos serve as proof to her atypical beauty. Loving the whole look captured in these shots, and though I spoke of dresses yesterday, Patti has inspired me to embrace the masculine side of feminity as well. And that hair is kind of genius, no? I simply love the era these photos capture- Patti is a style icon and love this glimpse into her world.

Not to mention this gorgeous portrait of a young Robert Mapplethorpe, whose dark, yet cherubic beauty is a force. I would love to own this photo, actually, and may hunt it down so I can hang it in my home. Adore the necklaces too. I have a real thing with skulls, naturally.

If you have a chance, page through this very cool book to get up to speed with both sides of our uniquely human conditions-  the male, the female, and everything in between. Cause that's what's up this zygote of a Tuesday in the MIA. Whoever and wherever you are, celebrate your sense of self- it belongs to you and only you, after all.  XO

UPDATE: There's a show of all of this work in New York at Feature Gallery through the 10th. If you live in NYC, you should go to there...thanks to my husband we now know where to see these...