the world according to sherimaven

Monday, Monday...here you ARE. And here I am.

I know I posted about Tommy H's preppy family vignette campaign last week,
so sorry to extol the virtues of all things prep once again today, but it
must be done. Sunday's New York Times (Sunday Styles to be exact) had a
great article about the amazing photo book "Take Ivy" with photos by T.
Hayashida. The book is a tour through the eyes of a Japanese team through
the Ivyed Northeastern campuses of the late 1960s, and it's been a style
stalwart ever since. Apparently every designer from the J. Crew folks to the
Band of Outsiders peeps worship at the alter of this tome, which was out of
print for years and had all of the mystique of the Mona Lisa, if Mona was a
moneyed Wasp and a legacy to Harvard, naturally.

I love peeping into this world and can very easily see why this book would
inspire American sportswear for years to come. I may have mentioned my
rather sordid case of Wasp envy- as a descendant of Eastern European folk,
my body simply can't handle a preppy thing, in any way. Once in a while I
may rock pearls, or a sweater over the shoulders, or maybe an LL Bean tote,
but that's where my preppy penchant ends, and trust me, it's for the best. I
shudder at the thought of myself in a polo collared shirt- I look rather
like a high school gym teacher in one of those so must avoid. It just
doesn't work for me. And Lily Pulitzer makes me look positively deranged.

Aside from a tropical print and a house in Palm Beach, I have always envied
the lack of emotion (or display of such), penchant for afternoon gin and
tonics, and distaste for flashy shows of wealth. (Croquette anyone?)

Yes of course I blogged about Keith Richards yesterday, and a prep he ain't.
(Though he lives in Greenwich, CT so riddle me that). I am influenced and
inspired by many movements, but the preppy thing is one I truly dig, because
it's decidedly American. I grew up during the publishing of "The Preppy
Handbook" and I remember it being some sort of Jewish porn- nobody in my
synagogue was named Muffy or Biff. Who were these creatures of reedy or
"athletic" builds and even temperament? The mind puzzled. Not to say there
was no such thing as a Jewish prep- my father was a major Ralph guy and my
first boyfriend drove an old BMW and popped his collar- though he was more
of what we used to call "sloppy prep"- which was tots cute. (Think baggy
khakis, shirts untucked under sweaters, and maybe some beat up LL Bean
bluchers or Diadoras). Oh and let's not forget how much we LOVED Jake Ryan
in "Sixteen Candles". So so cute. And am I crazy to find an old Volvo
station wagon kind of sexy? Cause I do. (Perhaps you remember an old post of
mine about a particular pair of LL Bean duck boots and the boy who would be
wearing them? That's who's driving the beat up dark green Volvo wagon PS).

Powerhouse is republishing this little gem of prepster visuals and it will
be available in late August. I am getting in line as the summer winds down,
though I won't be wearing anything preppy when I queue up. I'll leave that
to the slim hipped and naturally blond amongst you.

And that's what's up this madras plaid Monday in the MIA. Have a lovely day.
XO

Hi, Friday. Trop Storm Bonnie en route. Oh boy. I was going to post the
lyrics to "Stormy Weather" but they're entirely too depressing.

So let's talk about Tommy Hilfiger's new ad campaign instead, shot by Craig
McDean. I think it's genius. The work showcases an imaginary Hilfiger
family, complete with quirky Tennenbaum tendencies. You can even go online
and "meet the Hilfigers" on tommy.com and find out all about their lives-
feels very Gatsby 2010 meets Wes Anderson- that kooky, rich preppy thing is
displayed here in spades and I love it. (Mumsy likes her bloodys and hot son
gets kicked out of boarding school...) I have always had a bit of Wasp envy-
oh to be cool, detached, and reedy...we Jews are not cut out for such
things, at least not in my family.

Wasp envy aside, I think this is a great way for a brand to inject some
personality into the clothes and celebrate the "American family" and cover
off on a bunch of demographic bases, as well as all mediums- print,
interactive, etc. I say American family in quotes cause obviously nobody's
family I know looks as good or cool as this, but no matter (except for the
Novogratzes of Bravo reality show fame. Before that show put them into
overexposure, they would have been a great REAL family to represent a
fashion brand ). It's a fun way to tell a brand's story- Tommy has always
been gaga for a preppy with a twist ideal. And after all, it's only about
fashion and I like it. I like it. Yes I do. And judging from the photos in
this month's Bazaar of Tommy's new digs in the Plaza, lots of other people
do too.

Hope you enjoy your weekend. I just bought in all my lanterns and glass
candle holders from outside and the air feels charged in that pre hurricane way I
have become well acquainted with, though this one's just a tropical storm.
And that's what's up this American Friday in the tropics. Maybe you should
celebrate your family this weekend- shall I schedule a shoot with Craig
McDean? XO

Greetings, Thursday. You delight me with your proximity to Friday.

Another thing that delights me is this insanely sexy story in Italian Vogue
this month, shot by Ellen Von Unwerth, she of the soft focus, almost kewpie
dolled sexiness that was all the rage once upon a time. Clearly she's found
her groove again because these pictures are to die for. Model is Dioni
Tabbers- don't know her, but have a feeling I will. She's gorgeous and cat
like and and amazing.

The whole editorial is genius- hair, makeup, styling, use of leopard (we
already know how I feel about that). Loving the cinematic feel of these
shots. And nobody does sexy, or cinema for that matter, like the Italians.
Home run. Oh and boys, you should take a gander at these photos too. I have a feeling
you are going to become diligent readers of Italian Vogue in the future, but
probably not for the same reasons as me.

And that's what's up this saucy minx of a Thursday in the MIA. XO

This would be my look for reals.  Love me some Raquel Zimmerman (the model) and
obsessing over Marc Jacobs for fall. Beyond. Dreaming of. That skirt length
is the horse's hoof, no??? Jeez I love it. I am so rocking that length for
fall. It feels new and fresh yet retro b and a departure from years of the
mini as skirt lengths for fall head south. Give it a think.

This image was shot by Ines and Vinoodh for August Vogue...divine story and
this shot kills. With that boot? COME ON. Very 70s/McGraw/femmy Annie Hall.
Just love...thought I would share. Everybody needs an afternoon pick me up,
non?

XO

Hi, Wednesday. Remind me again why I did hardcore ashtanga yoga two days in
a row? Oof and ouch.

Anyway, I've been hearing about this Ridley Scott (he of epic movie fame)
production for Youtube called "Life in a Day". He's asking would be
directors from around the world to shoot some video this Saturday and send
it in to Youtube- video should feel slice of life- as in he's looking for
folks doing their every day do. The hope would be to create a video time
capsule so generations to come can see what life was like on this fair
planet in July of 2010. Scott is an interesting choice as he doesn't seem
like much of a documentarian, though I did love "Gladiator" and he has
produced gobs of other stuff too. (Love me some 'Black Hawk Down' too).

I think this is super cool, though I probably won't participate. I'm not
much of a picture taker or video documenter of my life- though there are
many moments I wish I had photos of, especially in the height of my New York
nightlife days (some of those outfits should have been visually documented).
I think I prefer to remember things in my mind instead- I have a hefty
imagination and visual recall of the Spidey sense variety- and that's where
I like my memories to stay, before dementia sets in. That and I have a rabid
fear of being photographed. It's not a good look for me. I may have to
rethink this for the Paris trip...

Even if I don't make a video, I do enjoy watching other people's lives-
whether through videos or photos. Remember those "Day in the Life" books
some time back? I really enjoyed them and seeing how America lives- and how
variable living in this country can be. Now in 2010, we have simply become
beyond fascinated with gazing (more like ogling) at people's every day
existence. We update our statuses on Facebook to talk about what we're
eating (complete with photos of said tuna tartare) or what we're thinking.
Twitter captures our real time moments in 140 characters or less. And then
Four Square lets us all know where you are at all times. I can't help but
wonder what an old professor of mine from college would think of all of
this- he penned a book on what he referred to as "Kodak Culture" and our
nation's obsession with documenting each moment of our lives. It was an
interesting read now and surely could be rewritten to now examine how we
can't seem to stop posting, blogging, Twittering about all that we do- and
how we are all so fascinated by each other's lives. Funny how voyeurism used
to imply something illicit but now it seems ingrained in our daily patterns
of online consumption. What's most interesting to me is wondering if these
vignettes into our lives are "real"- they are certainly edited to provide us
with a view that the owner of said thought or photo or video wants us to
see. Nobody talks about how fat they feel on Facebook or how much they hate
their mother. Are we losing track of what "real life" is as we carefully
curate and document our comings and goings? Is life meant to be edited?

All of that in mind, here is a link about the project. I think it's super
cool and speaks to the era of hyper voyeurism we live in, and illustrates
our ability to show our lives in any way we choose to. Perhaps you should
take part...and then I can watch.

http://mashable.com/2010/07/07/ridley-scott-youtube-life-day/

And that's what's up this day in my life in the 305. XO

Hi, Tuesday...I greet you bleary eyed from lack of sleep but still happy to
see you.

So more from my bday- I just have to share with you girls and boys the
following: it's a pretty good idea to have a blog, and to share with the
world the things you love, covet, and would trade your first born for. Why,
you may ask? Not just because you're a rampant narcissist who needs to do
so. I'd say it's because someone in your life who loves you may be reading
one of your random tomes and realize there's a birthday gift idea in there.

Case in point- my Burberry trench post. I posted about how perfect a
Burberry trench would be in Paris. And I meant it. My genius husband read
the post and connected the dots, much to my delight. So on my birthday eve
(as he can never really wait to give me a present), I received a large box,
dutifully unwrapped the beautiful paper, undid the bow, and there it was. A
VERY LARGE BURBERRY BOX. Wow.

And that's how I got my Burberry trench. Am I a spoiled brat? Probably. But
do I have an amazing husband or what? Yes. Yes I do. I was incredibly
touched that he not only faithfully reads my posts, but was lovely enough to
actually take it one step further and buy me something that was just a
dreamy longing of mine. Sigh. So great.

So my thought of the day is start a blog, sisters and brothers. There are
some real benefits to tapping away at that keyboard and sharing your hopes,
dreams, and wants. Maybe someone you love will be avidly reading and decide
you should have one of those things you post about too. And even if they
don't, it's still good to put those things out in the universe- whether your
post are about changing careers, wanting more time to yourself, or shedding
a few pounds to be healthier. Once you say it in print, it becomes real
somehow. (Wasn't there a line in Rocky Horror that said 'don't dream it, be
it?' I'm saying 'don't dream it, write it')

And that's what's up this betrenched Tuesday in the MIA. (Ooh and that bag
on Emma Watson doesn't suck either. Ha.) XO

Hi, Monday- I survived the weekend with flying colors...didn't sting as bad
as I thought it would...now back to reality.

I'm going to post about a few things this week from the big birthday weekend
but first I must tell you about the incredible film (not a movie but most
definitely a film) "I Am Love" with the gifted Tilda Swinton which I saw
yesterday. It's a slow, silky, captivating ,sensual crawl about love,
family, deception, passion- all those things that make for a great movie. It
more than references Hitchcock in its build, music, and psychological
tension. One moment we're in dully, dreary Milan- the next we're in the
budding, blooming, and colorful San Remo. I am not sure how they do it, but
a film from Italy somehow transcends the screen it's playing on, and this is
an Italian film in the grand tradition of such (Yes I know this is all very
Film School 101. I was a Journalism major, so cut me some slack). I walked
out of this one feeling dazed, blunted, and wowed. And I know I like a movie
when I can't stop thinking about it the next day- and this one is top of
mind. (Oh and if you're a graphic designy type, the title treatments in
between scenes are brilliant beyond belief- if only such gorgeous type could
accompany me wherever I go and set the tone for my life).

Also top of mind are the clothes- oh the clothes. All Jil Sander for the
women and Fendi for the men. I can think of worse things. Tilda wears
clothes in a genius way, it's effortless and amazing, and it certainly helps
that she is a tall drink of water with the hips of a prep school boy. The
style in the movie was transcendent and beautiful and I could almost smell
the Acqua Di Parma spritzed on as effortlessly as these clothes were. It's
not a "fashion" movie- there are no sweeping statements or "it" pieces but
the subtle nod to the classics makes me rethink trendy, throwaway clothes
and why I continue to procure them. There was nothing in this film that
could not be worn for season after season. The clothes were as transcendent
as the film. Amazing.

Oh and Tilda- I can't think of another actress who has such a range- in
facial expressions alone. And she plays a Russian who speaks Italian. Not
easy as a native English speaker, kids. Not easy at all. At one moment she
can look ethereal, delicate, and insanely beautiful. She could very well be
a Hitchcock heroine- having just watched "Marnie" that same morning, I
noted more than a passing resemblance and style nod to a young Tippi Hedren.
And then, just like that, her otherworldly beauty turns to sheer anguish-
the cool gaze turns grotesque and the face becomes almost hard to look at.
She is an incredible actress that has no fear and no limits. I just love
her- her cool, quiet in this movie speaks louder than words. There was not a
ton of fantastic dialogue in the film (all subtitles PS), but the narrative
unfolds visually- almost completely. I highly recommend this brilliant
movie- if you love fashion, adore that amazing heightened sense of drama
present in Hitchcock and old Italian films, and love movies as a form of
escape. It's genius. You should go to there. (There being your local movie
spot).

Oh and don't miss Marisa Berenson as the matriach of the very dynastic
Recchi family- what a surprise! Worth the price of admission alone...OMG and
holy chic. She looks amazing.

And that's what's up this lovely Monday in the MIA...here's to a great week
free of Hitchcockian drama and intensity (unless you somehow need that to
survive...). XO

Happy Friday. Hope it finds you well...

Tomorrow is a big birthday for me- at least that's what urban legend, Glamour Magazine, and Oprah say. I am trying not to give in to it, but it's hard not to. I remember where I was when I turned 30, both physically and mentally. I was in San Francisco on a stressful project, and then I ended up at my friend's Victorian in the Haight, crying my eyes out while listening to Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks" over and over again. This was a good, purging cry- not a sad for being 30 whimper but more a thank you Lord I am out of my 20s wail of joy. After I wiped away my non waterproof mascara and took the CD off repeat, things got better. Much, much better. Two week after I turned 30, I met my husband. And well, you know the rest. In any event 30 was a deep sigh of relief for me. I did feel different- so hopeful, not as much of a trainwreck courtesy of a drama filled 20s, and ready to grow up a little. And I did. So for those of you about to turn 30, enjoy. It's really transformative and amazing and filled with wisdom.

And now, as I perch on the eve of 40 (OMG), I am grateful, freaked out, and incredulous that I am on this precipice. I simply can't believe that I am approaching that point in life where getting out of bed in the morning feels a little different, a hangover feels like Armaggedon, and I can no longer eat whatever I want even though I bust my butt at the gym almost every day. (That's been going on for a while though, that last one...)

Inevitably one turns inward at such moments- impossible not to, unless you are stealing your husband's SOMAs for his back and choosing to turn 40 in a muscle relaxed haze (I'm not). Instead, I'm going to face this fucker the best I can. But first, I need to face the very adolescent like zit on my face. On my lip, specifically.

Why do I tell you about my unfortunate lip bump? Because to me it's oddly symbolic. Here I am, turning 40, and I get a zit the size of Texas on my face- really?  This is important as I haven't had a zit in years. And this one presents much like a 15 year old protuberance. So perhaps it's the Lord's way of saying I'm not that old, that my hormones are still raging enough to land a big red ball on my lip. It's also a weird one because it refuses to pop- I've dutifully blotted with warm compresses, but the damn thing still won't dissolve. Feels a bit like my own life right now- I can feel something bubbling under the surface of my being, but it's refusing to come out and reveal itself, so I lie in wait. I've been feeling this way for a while- right now I am a big old blister of creativity, ideas, and inspiration but can't seem to get out of my own head. Hopefully this will be the year, and hopefully, this little zit on my face will break free as well.  (I realize this analogy is a bit of a wonk but give me a break, I'm turning 40 and grabbing at straws...)

So as I sit here pondering life and wondering what's next, I'm getting a little bit excited. At 30, I met the man of my dreams. At 40, I hope to fully realize my potential at work, play, and health. Or else I'm going to buy a little convertible and go full throttle into midlife (I dream of a vintage Mercedes). Either way, it really is an odd feeling to be 40;  it's hard to write and even harder to say.

I found this image this AM and it's not just appropriate for the state of my union, it's perfectly true. I am always in a race with myself to try and figure out where to go, what to do, and who to be. Instead, I am going to try very hard to be in the moment and feel ok with right now. I have never been more at ease with who I am or more confident on what I can share or bring to the people I love and care about. I'm thrilled that people much younger than me come to me for advice- hard to believe I am that person, but feel very blessed that people find me together enough to consult with me about their lives. And much like my pimple, (sorry to bring that up again, I know it's gross) I feel about ready to pop, but in a very good way. And for now, I'm going with being exactly where I need to be, because that's really the only way to deal with life, and this I've learned through experience. It's all a minute by minute thing.  So enjoy each of those minutes, because they tick away and before you know it, 40 arrives. But try not to put too much weight on it like the media tells you- it's simply about practicing each moment mindfully and knowing you are exactly where you need to be. I recognize that the situations in my life that make me unhappy are merely that- situations. Overall, I have never been happier about just being myself- it's become much easier to do so. And I'm choosing to look at those aches and pains and laugh lines as battle scars/wounds that are emblems of the journey that got me to this place of ease. It would be impossible to live this life without any wounds or dings, right?

I fully expect to freak out a couple of times more about this milestone, as I ponder a future filled with Activia yogurt, dry skin, and Eileen Fisher separates. But for now, I still feel very much like a pimply teen, and I've got the zit to prove it. Tomorrow I am going to look for a puppy, see that Tilda Swinton movie, shop for some vintage to retool, and end the day with dinner at a swank new restaurant with mi amore. That's exactly where I need to be when I turn 40, doing all the things that inspire me and make me happy, and with the person I love more than life itself. And that's what's up this botox free and fortyish Friday in the MIA. Thanks for reading my rants- I enjoy writing this blog more than you can ever know, it helps me to be at ease with being right here, right now. XO

(Oh and PS- I am still prescribing laughter as the best medicine for any age group. And I imagine it would be much harder to laugh as heartily at all of life's silliness if I had a face full of botox).

OK I'm obsessed...can't help myself.

Kate Moss is the poster child of how to wear leopard in the most rock and
roll way possible- she always looks like she just rolled out of bed next to
a rock star and is popping out for some smokes after a night of debauch,
right? (I guess that's because that's always what she's doing). Who else
could make a hangover look so divine? Probably Sienna Miller as shown here
in her "Edie" period. Love.

But here are some other leopard lovers you should get inspired by...just the
chicest thing- along with red lips and an LBD you'll be rocking a fashion
classic but still look beyond cool. I would also recommend a catty pair of
sunglasses (no pun intended) to complete that retro cool vibe. J'adore. And
look at Bardot with that beret and leopard coat. Genius. I'll stop now...but
man do I love me an animal print- it puts the va va in your voom. Of this, I hold fast.

XO