Wearing White After Labor Day

Red-y for Spring

2012-01-27T12:32:00.005-05:00

Sixty degrees in January, in New York, is something of a marvel no matter how cynical the City has made you. While it's not such great news for the gorgeous cobalt blue Jcrew coat my hubby gave me for Christmas, its fabulous for Tucker who loves walks in his stroller up and down the tree-lined suburban streets adulthood has relegated me to. Ankle length pants (like white jeans) are a year round staple, this whether just makes for an easier case to argue.

A red-soled shoe makes a statement paired with pants of any length (and the recent lawsuit filed by Louboutin against YSL for trademark infringement of his signature color trademark holds water in my opinion). The warmer temps outside make wearing these pretty pumps more practical (save for those downpours or melted snow banks, and the added necessity of a nice pedicure). We will be heading to Atlantic City in a few weeks, the perfect venue for a 5 inch heel (since carrying an 8 month old does not allow for such height risks in daily dressing).

visit www.lyst.com for more some shoe shopping this weekend

Spring Review

2012-01-22T19:20:00.014-05:00

Stripes have become to spring what Weight Watchers is to January. A cliche, but nevertheless functional. I can't open a magazine, pass a store front or get into my own closet without a parade of horizontal daggers staring at me like taunting treats of warmer days.

As you probably know from reading, I am obsessed with stripes. I wore them throughout my pregnancy (regardless of their purportedly enlarging affect on the waistline) and find no less than 2 outfits each week to work them into. But even I have to say that a sea of stripes makes me wonder if fashion has finally hit the proverbial wall, where all creative pursuits, daring dimensions and provocative patterns have laid down their heads for a long winter's nap.

I often say that if you really look closely, there is nothing truly new in fashion. Every trend you like, love, or loathe is just a reemergence of something that's been done before (50's polka dots, 60's lady like frocks, 70's mod, 80's neon (shudder) and so on). Talented designers make a fresh stab at tried and true shapes, adding their own signature to make over the already made. And while I can't seem to stop buying stripes, and citrus hues make me happier than red wine, I can't help but think, is this it?

Fabulous photos from Loft.com

Legally Speaking

2012-01-18T07:56:00.004-05:00

I had to get Online early today before work to see what all the Anti-Piracy fuss was about, and I it seems all web services are voicing their sentiments against the legislation quite emphatically. Having spent a majority of my time in law school studying IP and its implications for the fashion world and some time at practice responding to cease and desist orders and the like, I am a little surprised by the huge backlash flying around like 80's Aquanet hairspray fumes.

I've posted about this many times over the past few years (see my archives) and never find the issue cut and dry. But the new Bills before Congress (Stop Online Piracy Act (House Bill 3261), and Protect IP Act) sound more like the nerdy, idealistic clubs from my law days than passable law. The hungry vendors on Canal Street in Downtown Manhattan that would smell my wallet as I tried desperately to get from the 6 train to class without having to hiss at their gorilla sales tactics are reminder enough of why anti-piracy law should be tightened up (they can use my Gucci belt for added emphasis). I understand the fear Online, but the economic famine they predict flowing from such legislation is a bit dramatic, as the regulations are not as draconian as Google's blacked-out homepage graphic might suggest. As I tell my mother when she tries to belt every sweater she owns, or my 8 month old when he tries to devour the whole jar of apples after dinner: Everything in moderation people!

DIY

2012-01-16T08:56:00.004-05:00

I am a firm believer that to get things done right, its best to do it yourself. This applies to most aspects of daily life, from cleaning the baby's bottles to making the bed, to the perfect accessory. I've always marveled at the DIY shows on Sunday mornings, where a husband and wife team up with a visionary kitchen designer and tackle their ugly counter tops and cabinets, revealing a state of the art new product. (Where they get the money, gorgeous marble, and equally gorgeous construction expert is all conveniently left out of the episodes of course.)

Recently I've been searching for the perfect infinity scarf (akin to this one at left from J.Crew, but in lighter fabric). Those long, dangling scarf ends are just not practical with a teething infant, cups of coffee, or (unfortunately) toilet bowls. A little bit of vision (imagine the ends of an ordinary scarf tied together) and some time after baby is in bed, and you have my first DIY project. I'm not handy, but I am good with needle and thread. So my favorite printed Ann scarf is now the best infinity scarf I've seen! This inspires me to make more custom pieces from existing articles in my wardrobe (anyone remember the Bedazzler? I loved being 10 years old in the early 90's). Elbow patches would look great on my navy gold button blazer.....

Heading for the Hills

2012-01-12T09:43:00.004-05:00

My husband watches intellectually stimulating programs such as CSPAN and and BookTv, while I prefer the emotionally rousing Real Housewives and MTV (the latter not as much as of late, but it can still be found on the TV when I'm in control). One show I really have to say I miss is The Hills (and spin off The City). What ever happened to adorable California girl trying to make it in the big city working for Kelly Cutrone, aka Whitney? It seems shes been hard at work since the cameras wrapped several season ago- her first fashion show debuts in Lincoln Center for NYC Fashion Week on Feb 15th. I've lost all access to the shows in my new life, but I'll look forward to reading about it like everyone else.

I remember short skirts, frills balanced by leather jackets and double breasted blazers, and plays with proportions from her line Whitney Eve. The new looks featured by Fashionista seem to be a departure from my memory, but fun nonetheless (a tribal print frock won't cut it an evening Board meeting with Long Island conservatives, but maybe at Saturday cocktails). Kind of makes me want to abandon all rational justifications for working a steady, predictable job and try my hand at the fanciful while I'm still in the tail ens of my 20's!

photo credit NYmag.com

The Facebook Effect

2012-01-07T09:36:00.005-05:00

It happens to even those with the largest closets- standing, staring at all the options, unable to pick anything to wear. One fairly basic black and white silk Calvin Klein Collection top seems good enough, so I throw it on, pick a pair of gold hoops, and feel satisfied. Then I think: when did I wear this last? And more importantly, were pictures taken and posted on Facebook? Answering this in the affirmative, I head back into the closet abyss for another 15 minutes until something else, equally as basic, but not recently tagged on the Internet, suffices.

The old technique of dividing the purchase price by number of wears to help ease the sticker shock goes out the window when you fear being seen in the same thing at numerous events, forever memorialized on the Internet (along with those shots from college you didn't even know existed until an email notification alerts you to their resurrection when a friend discovers some old candids). But since I used this formula to justify buying many items that now, with a baby, I'd never be able to talk myself into, I can't stomach not wearing them again simply because everyone knows the last time I did so. What's a girl to do? Balance confidence against insecurity and wear what makes you happy? Probably. Or delete Facebook account? Not likely.

New Year, New ____

2012-01-01T12:57:00.005-05:00

All cliches exist for a reason- they are true. I have made some resolutions for 2012, and upon examination, each is its own cliche. (Use the gym at least 3 times a week - In preparation I even bought new pants and tops that will help enhance the experience, as an outfit does for any occasion. Eat better- I often substitute cereal for dinner when taking care of an infant and a small household after a full day of work overcome me. Be more patient- less eye rolling when husband cant immediately read my mind.) Yawn, yawn, yawn.

Anything we can resolve to do that does not evoke a been there, done that, how many days will this last, mentality? Tucker has resolved to take fewer naps as evidenced by his refusal to close his eyes once since he woke 7 hours ago today. My husband seems to have resolved to spend more time using his new iPad since his gaze hasn't strayed from the device much since he woke also 7 hours ago. I'd suggest no more sweatpants to those I see in the suburban grocery stores, but that would be a failed attempt. Wear more color? Less flats, more heels? No more ponytails? Weak. Perhaps the best strategy is to the make the most of what is already around (clothing, job, waistline) and not set ourselves up with a list of unfulfilled resolutions to dampen the start of a new year. I resolve not to resolve, how about that?

Where have all the basics gone?

2011-12-29T11:29:00.003-05:00

I love newness as much as the next person- I am guilty of abandoning perfectly good items because they lose their luster simply by virtue of how long they have lived in my closet. I rip the tags off as soon as I get a new article home, and plan the next day's outfit around wearing it, no matter what it is. A recently purchased plain jersey top is inherently chosen over its 9-18 month old cousin.

But I do not covet newness at the expense of basics. 'New' to me sometimes refers to cut/color/trim, but often just purchase date. I avoid pieces that show their age in terms of the aforementioned characteristics, because I am not trendy, 17, nor of unlimited means to purchase each season's it-list in toto. Right now, after post-Christmas binge shopping, I am in desperate need of a cream colored turtle neck sweater. The proud owner of last week's fabulous cobalt blue Ann pants, and now a glen plaid Jcrew pair, plus black wide leg Theory trousers with lime green pinstripes, among other winter pencil skirts, I'm craving a cream topper. But the retailers are so caught up in holiday cheer they have neglected the basics. Out I go again, one last time, in search the missing top. Wish me luck!

Bright Blue

2011-12-23T17:47:00.004-05:00

My girlfriend Rebecca came over today for our annual clothing exchange (more of a giveaway, since it involves me handing over bags of things I no longer wear, but need to see live on with a dear, fashionable friend). The more sparse racks in my closet were calling desperately for something new. So to the stores I went.

Among more practical items, this pair of cobalt blue ankle pants from Ann are my single favorite purchase of 2011 (yes, the entire year). Though the color seems vibrant, it actually pairs with a lot of basic tops and shoes (think sumptuous grey cashmere and black platform Michael Kors pumps). Closing the year on a bold, yet responsible note (pants purchased at 50% off) sets a good stage for things to come.

Buyer's Remorse

2011-12-19T09:07:00.007-05:00

Despite my keen eye and critical mind, I fell victim to fabulous marketing and fashion photography this past weekend. For a few months now, I have fixated on owning a cozy, over sized, tunic length winter sweater. Those chunky sweaters with dolman sleeves that drape so effortless over the lithe arm of an amazon-esqe model are rather enticing in Harpers and Vogue. So off I went, in search of the perfect cape/poncho/tunic to pair with slim jeans (still no leggings here now that all forms of pregnancy are past).

In the Miracle Mile Ann Taylor (where everything seems affordable due to its placement adjacent to Prada, Escada, and St. John) I honed in on a light grey sweater fitting all criteria- loose cut, kimono sleeve, mid-hip length. My spirits soared when I saw a small white sign announcing 40% off of the $168 price tag. I snatched it off the rack before any of those milling around me could get a hand near it. Too excited to bother with the fitting room (and rushing to get home before Tucker was due to have some organic sweet potato puree-made from scratch!) I headed straight for the register.

Since my work is technically closed for the next 2 weeks (though my particular office remains open) I can dress more casual chic than business casual. Finding this the perfect chance to don my new sweater, I happily thew it over my head this morning. Fixing my hair in the mirror I was horrified at what I saw. More akin to bag lady or potato sack than chic poncho, the sweater swallowed me and spit me out. I adjusted the shoulders, added a scarf, tried a belt, nothing helped. I thought I was being too critical- it looked so great in the magazines. I must give it a try. Off to the kitchen to prepare Tucker's breakfast. The large sleeve knocked over a filled bottled and then dragged the liquid across the counter. Tucker won't fit on my hip, which has been replaced by an expanse of wool. My coat won't fit over the chic dolman sleeve, and its too cold to go without. In my haste to tidy up, I threw out the bag and the receipt, and already clipped the tag so I am stuck with the amorphous rag. Anybody interested in a post-holiday bad decision swap?

Gifting Greatness

2011-12-10T06:27:00.005-05:00

With Black Friday and other maddening marathon sales events out of the way, more leisurely holiday shopping can ensue. The list is short this year- many friends also celebrating their first holidays with little ones in tow understand the need to cut back. The selections may change, the colors vary, but the core gift gifting tenets remain in effect.

When decide just what to get for those who seem to have everything, sometimes its best to start with what not to get (or wear, Stacy and Clinton). Regardless of how desperately a wife says the household needs a new Bissel steam cleaning vacuum, do not purchase this as a holiday gift. Utility should not be a guiding principal when choosing a gift, nor should practicality. There will be sales in January and you can buy one then. Toning footwear (Sketchers Shape-ups, Reebok Easy Tone, etc) should also be crossed right of any list for consideration. We all want to get in shape, Christmas is not the time to validate our complaints about a firmer bottom.

Classics are always in style: brightly colored leather gloves, a balanced yet spicy cologne (Burberry does everything well), anything with a monogram (like these Brooks Brothers monogrammed pajamas), an elegant Diptyque candle in Coriander. (With scented candles, keep in mind what Miranda said to Carrie when Steve's new girlfriend gave her one from a flea market, 'scented candles replace women with cats as the new saddest thing'. This can be true so stick to well heeled brands that balance their scents and wont leave your home smelling like a buffet or a taxi cab.)

Tucker will get a Brooks Brothers teddy (wearing a classic silk tie) a few wooden keepsake toys, and a lot of clothing to fit his ever growing frame. Gift giving to an infant is more for parents joy than babies anyway, but then again so is most gifting. Happy shopping!

Holiday Dressing

2011-11-11T20:18:00.004-05:00

Though the turkeys are not yet in the oven and the mercury hovers in the 50's, the holiday invites are beginning to collage the fridge and thus the season has arrived. For the first holiday season post-baby, I knew a closet overhaul (part 2) would be in order. The size 0 go-to LBD is no longer a good, dear friend, but rather an unflattering frenemy. Bridesmaids dresses lingering in the background are ready for their next home.

With a smaller budget than the usual holiday shopping spree would be allocated (Tucker is the proud owner of many new winter treats- Ralph Lauren classic cable sweater and overalls for thanksgiving, cashmere argyle vest with fine wale cords for Christmas) I have to re-imagine the party dress. I own a cream silk tank with black lace applique, that's probably even more on target now than last fall when I bought it at Scoop. That can pair with a fitted black silk tulip skirt that was a steal from Ann Taylor at $68 (reduced from $119)! Pants can do evening (love this skinny pair from Rachel Zoe at Intermix), if they have the right heels (a re-do of the classic black peep toe from Michael Kors) to support their night out. And an LBD doesn't have to be black at all-sapphire blue, grey and even red are good options (like this under $100 score from Loft).

The silver lining to the economic tumble is the steep discounts and routine promos you can count on each week, brand-wide. I haven't enjoyed such prices since my days as a buyer (which still make it difficult to fork over $150 for a J.Crew bauble bib necklace when the industry standard 75% IMU (mark up) lingers in my mind). I'm sure the black Friday deals will be epic, but I've never had the stomach for a buffet, let alone shopping in hoards (someone booked our nanny to be at their house at 4am to watch the little ones while they take to the malls. I'd rather wear polyester in the summer). Happy shopping!

Spillage

2011-11-03T08:34:00.006-04:00

I shouldn't be surprised that it happened, given that 1) I was in a rush, 2) I was wearing dry-clean only Ralph Lauren light grey flannel trousers, 3) I had left all bibs and burp cloths in the kitchen and didn't pack any in Tucker's bag, and 4) I had an early meeting with a VIP. But nevertheless, one is still caught off guard by the projectile force with which pasty white Similac on its way back up catches the leg of a perfectly crafted wide-leg trouser pant.

With baby on hip, Marc Jacobs dangling from elbow, traveling coffee mug in left hand and key clenched between forefinger and mug, I lost another precious few seconds deciding how to react first. Baby can't be placed down on cement parking garage floor or roof of the car, so appendages had to go while baby was safely nestled into car seat. Luckily, I compulsively clean my car on weekends, so the backseat floor mat had to serve as both burp cloth and dry-clean device in a pinch. (Tucker of course found it all amusing, which helped buy my a few more minutes I really couldn't afford to begin with). Fellow parkers didn't miss the opportunity to stare (not offering a hand of course, we are not that far from the mean streets of Manhattan after all). The entire fiasco added 6 minutes to my clock, wear and tear to my pants, and perspiration to my face.

I won't say I learned my lesson when it comes to the pants- I own far too much cashmere, silk, wool and other washer-adverse material to forgo all such ensembles. But I won't be leaving the house without several burp cloths in the near future.

Boys Play

2011-10-25T12:50:00.008-04:00

I realize that the holidays are still quite a few weeks off, but when it comes to dressing for occasions, its never too early to prepare. I was fortunate enough to receive a few samples of one of the most irresistible children's lines around, Tom & Drew. Though 2T is the smallest size, it wont be long before Tucker is rivaling his dad for best dressed (especially given he weighs nearly 20 pounds and is 2 weeks shy of 6 months old). The company also donates a portion of proceeds to bulldog rescue, how could you resist? (Take a peek at some looks on facebook, or shop the collection at Shopbelle.)

The grey gold button blazer will probably have to wait until the pureed foods have become a thing of the past (or risk the same fate as my ill destined silk theory shirt), but it will be worth the wait. In the meantime, holiday shopping for baby and and birthday browsing for daddy is underway (and since the latter will be bidding farewell to his 20's, the perfect present is a necessity). What to get the man that (since we began dating 5 years ago) has everything (and if he gets too much more, will be encroaching into my closet)?

photo credit to Tom and Drew's Facebook page

9-5 Grind, and then Some

2011-10-14T05:36:00.005-04:00

A typical day was ahead- up by 5, drop Tucker at daycare, at work by 7:45, 2 meetings, pick Tucker up, wait for Hubs to return from work, head back to work for Board meeting, no dinner, home by 10. The evening addition to the usual menu required an extra touch of 'professional' to the otherwise business casual ensemble.

The walk-in closet was once by best friend. But like so many 20-something girlfriends find each other, it has become more of a frenemy. Its not size (I have resigned myself to the fact that the 0-petite pants won't fit comfortably again since nearly 9 pound Tucker made his debut, so I've purged and replaced them with the next size). Dry clean only seems impractical, 3 inch Prada pumps carry fear of falling with precious baby on hip, crisp white Thomas Pink shirt wrinkles under baby's weight on shoulder, black Theory pants collect lint from carpeting while sitting and playing on activity mat with aforementioned baby in the morning. What to do? After the 5 hours of sleep I managed the night before, patience are slightly short, and sounds from the nursery signal my time to decide on an outfit is near its end. The 80% closet purge I find necessary to go on is not in the cards this month, so I'm forced to work with what I have.

Grey merino boatneck with elbow sleeves and black sateen Ann Taylor pants it is. Jcrew statement necklace thrown in purse to be put on after daycare drop-off (ever seen a 5 month old baby and an expensive piece of not-so-expensively-made costume jewelry? Not good). Sounds getting louder, rushing required. Overly practical Enzo flats will have to do. 16 hours later I'll be home to change!

Wearing White

2011-09-28T17:05:00.002-04:00

Wearing my white after labor day proudly (boyfriend cut jeans, rolled at the ankle) is a routine for me. So post baby, I wanted to adhere to my usual fall fashion habits as much as possible. Excited with my new discounted pair of Sevens (discounted because apparently, not everyone realizes you can in fact wear white jeans all year long) I found a great light weight cashmere top to pair them with.

I should mention that at 4 months old, Tucker now eats pureed veggies. It just so happens that every 'first veggie' is orange in color (sweet potatoes, carrots, squash). After a great day in my white jeans, I ran to pick the prince up from daycare and rushed home for dinner time. Organic carrots and flexible Skip Hop spoon in hand, we began our meal. Practicing his new skill of blowing bubbles with his saliva at every chance he gets, Tucker blew the contents of the spoon all over the table, and more sadly, my white jeans. Not even Tide to go could help my poor pants, for orange is an impossible color to remove from fabrics.

I think that perhaps first veggies should be a more appropriate hue, like beige. Can white potatoes make a comeback?

Grab Bag

2011-09-14T06:59:00.004-04:00

A woman's purse is always a variable treasure trove of wonders, but on this day my bag was even more full than usual. With 4 month old baby on hip, bottles stowed in monogrammed infant lunch tote, prada makeup case tucked into outer pocket, phone safely away from water bottle in middle pouch, I was ready to go.

Daycare drop off was done in record time (which always includes at least 10 minutes where I stand smiling at Tucker and making faces while he squeals in delight in daycare worker's arms before I can rip myself away, and the mandatory taking off and putting back on of Michael Kors wedges). Next stop Starbucks for my one indulgence of the day (iced triple espresso with half and half- yes, half and half, and plenty of it). While reaching into my trusty Gucci extra large hobo for Louis Damier wallet, the first thing I retrieved was not the wallet at all, but rather dirty poop diaper packaged in a ziplock, ready to be dropped off at the doctor to test that little man is not allergic to newly introduced first foods (mmm rice cereal). The cashier did not miss the incident, as I stood there for at least 20 seconds holding the Pampers in my right hand. I smiled, tucked the diaper back into Gucci, and found sought after wallet. Adventures in parenting and working full time.

Washed Out

2011-08-27T12:09:00.005-04:00

With all the hurricane fanfare, I decided I better at least go out and get a few things in case any of the weathermen in their slickers, yelling through gusts of wind in NC happen to be telling the truth. In the suburbs, hysteria travels faster than baby poop out of the diaper. At the local Stop and Shop, it appeared to be Armageddon. After fighting a middle aged housewife for one of the last few gallons of Poland Spring, I had had enough and returned home.

What does one really do to prepare for a hurricane when you don't live on the water, in a flood zone, or in a 100 year old building? A manicure and pedicure for sure, in case stores remain closed into next week. The baby sleeps through blaring fire alarms, uses all battery operated toys, and drinks 32 ounces of soy formula a day from pop-top, ready to feed bottles that don't require refrigeration. He's the household model of storm survival. Cabernet is best at room temperature anyway, and when that runs out, there's always the unused cases of Slimfast in the back of the pantry. I can read Elle and Harper's in the dark, and if we really need some light, we can always borrow a D battery from the Fisher Price swing and load up the old flash light.

Whatever you do to prepare, relax, have a drink, and dry your hair once last time for the weekend.

Bullseye

2011-08-19T08:53:00.005-04:00

As colorful as a Fisher Price jungle gym, Missoni's pieces are fairly unmistakable (I own one such zigzag adorned tunic that I love to pull out each fall and pair with straight jeans, though I think I'll be waiting until solid food time to dare doing so this season). With a definite 70's vibe, the line's trademark patterns mesh a taste of the past with a nod toward the future (think head scarf meets cashmere).

What fabulous news to hear that on September 13th, Missoni's new wallet friendly line will be debuting at Target! I must admit, before Tucker, I had made only 2 visits ever to the world renowned giant (once to unsuccessfully score a piece from Zoc Posen's Target collection, the other in search of a beach chair during the peak of a summer season when every place under the sun was sold out). In my new life, however, Target has replaced the Loft in terms of quick impulse stops on the way home (yes, another tragedy of the suburbs). Now, in addition to cases upon cases of Similac Isomil formula, mom can stock up on a few other necessities on the next trip to the mega chain. Shopping for diapers just got a bit more fun!

The Good Fight

2011-08-03T09:24:00.006-04:00

Its that time of year again, when stores announce friends and family deals to lure in shoppers who have grown tired of sleevless hot weather wear, and offer them a tantalizing taste of fall. On a now rare trip to Loft yesterday, I arrived armed with my coupon and spotted a jersey dress that fit all new motherhood criteria (machine washable, under $100, non-constricting yet fitted enough to show hard earned pre-pregnancy figure). As the sales girl rung the purchase, I happily turned over my coupon for an additional percentage off. As if I had just given her a task of manual labor, the girl took an exasperated breath and explained I could only receive the discount if I used my store credit card. (Store credit cards are devices designed to fool husbands, diffuse large Visa bills, and increase the already numerous amount of monthly bills, so I refrain from opening any). I doubted my ability to read fine print, and sheepishly took the paper back from the salesgirl and turned to leave with my tail between my legs.

I made it half way to the door when I began to think. Had motherhood made me soft? Since when was my willingness to fight for a deal suppressed? And since when was I ever wrong about a coupon code? I took one final glance at the size 4 print at the bottom of the coupon and strode back to the counter. I interrupted the cashier in her discussion about why salads made her bloated and stuck the coupon across the counter, informing her there was no mention of needing to use the store card to get the discount. Again appearing overly taxed, she began to explain the instructions she was given. I told her how little I cared about her instructions, and that my legal eye was perfectly capable of reading fine print. She appeared to weigh for a second the implication of being scolded by her manager against standing here and arguing with me another moment. Another exhausted sigh, and she scanned the coupon, gave me my 30% off and shoved the bag across the counter to me. I smiled and left as I'm sure the girl shared some expletives with her coworker. No worries, I'll be cleaning spit-up and washing bottles after an 8 hour day of work in style tomorrow.

Home Decor

2011-07-23T17:25:00.003-04:00

After we spent so many hours (and so much of our wedding money) purchasing just the right black stained furniture and coordinating beige couch, with red and orange accent placed ever so carefully throughout the living space in 2009, all has gone to hell. The new centerpiece of the house is neither muted nor coordinated, subtle nor artistic. It is all shades of primary colors, all shapes under the stars, and lights up when activated.

The Fisher Price Bounce and Spin is hideous, obnoxious, and my favorite part of the living room. Our little prince (who is 10 weeks old, 14.5 pounds, and 25 inches) grins from ear to ear when his chubby thighs spring through the leg holes on the obtrusive device. Too short to really utilize all the jumping delights of the toy, he merely dangles and bobs his head with joy. Out the window with decor and design, in favor of anything that buys us such a smile. Perhaps one day an Hermes Birkin will evoke a similarly pleasant reaction.

The New Normal

2011-07-07T13:07:00.003-04:00

Sleeping until 7am, using the gym first thing in the morning, and eating a meal are all a thing of the past. The day now begins at a variety of hours, all dictated by how long my precious 7 week old decides to sleep any given night. This morning for example, he awoke at 5:00 am, a very civilized time. Daycare begins at 8, so that leaves 3 hours to eat, play, dress, and leave the house. Sounds easy, no?

All outfits laid out the night before (he likes to wear collared Ralph Lauren one-sie's and always packs a coordinating bib for the day), and I must resort to things that are easily changed (should some last minute spit up find itself on my shoulder) and conducive to squatting and playing on the floor (in case the little one doesn't allow me 5 minutes to change when we get home).

The actual amount of time I will have to dress in said outfit all depends on how long the dangling owl on the activity mat (thank you Auntie Christine!) will entertain us. (This also is of course assuming that I was able to brush my teeth before hubby left for the day. If not, that eats into my precious 4-6 minutes of prep time). You never knew just how quickly you could get a dress on, brush your hair, and curl your eyelashes than when you begin to hear the first rumblings of what, if left unattended, will turn into a lung warming cry. Luckily, the owl was particularly fascinating this morning and I was even able to make a pony tail with my now shoulder length hair.

In the elevator going to the garage, an older woman remarked to her friend how early it was to be leaving the house this morning, at the ripe hour of 7:55. It felt like high noon to me.

2011-06-16T14:23:00.002-04:00

Just as I was navigating my way through sleepless nights, tiring days, and endless clothing changes (myself and baby), along came a disaster to shake things up. Baby is home safely now, but there is nothing like 4 days in the pediatric ICU to give you a new perspective on things.

Dashing into the office intermittently (requiring some semblance of 'work' outfits within reach), sleeping in a chair at night, and spending hours comforting a baby (who cries less than than me) in a windowless room certainly teach one how to par down to the necessities of wardrobing and surviving.

The trusty Juicy sweatsuit, a staple since college finals, was once again called upon to come out strong. Hopefully the next time I pull it from the closet it will be for a happier occasion, a snow day this winter perhaps.

Shaken or Stirred

2011-06-01T22:19:00.003-04:00

Despite finally being able to drink alcohol again, I have yet to really enjoy a glass of anything since arriving home from the hospital 2 weeks ago. The heat makes me long for a strong margarita in a plastic cup at the Murray Hill roof top favorite, Rio Grande, across the street from the old apartment. (Whats amazing in that one year and one week ago, we still lived in that Murray Hill studio. My how things change!) Perhaps its better off that I can't find a moment for a glass of wine, as on 3 hours of sleep a night, I'm not sure it would take very well.

Enjoy the abundant pre-summer festivities, whether you like yours in a plastic cup or with a side of Prada.

Not pregnant and not in Heels

2011-05-29T13:04:00.004-04:00

Baby Tucker arrived on May 15th (weighing 8 pounds 9 ounces, after 36 hours of labor beginning on Friday the 13th) and for the first time in 14 days, I dried my hair, ironed it, and put on a madras skirt with matching tank for the Memorial Day weekend(the unofficial start to summer). The offers of help I once scoffed at have all been phoned in, and frantic calls to find a part time baby nurse have ensued.

Those cute seersucker onesies I was all too excited about have been sitting untouched in the baby dresser, instead the little man is donning the footed one piece pajama, 24 hours a day (and wetting through at least 3 of them in a given morning through night period). They shouldn't make such cute short sleeve, bare-leg outfits in size 0 months, because apparently, babies have to be in layers even in 75 degree weather for their first month of life. Of course people like me will drop $30 for a teeny tiny collard short sleeved polo suit that the baby will outgrow by time he has enough self temperature regulation to actually wear. So all the footed pj's I turned my nose up at have become our life staples, and my fears that my baby will be a couch potato sitting in his sweat pants all day will have to be shelved until he can at least sit up on his own.

The lack of time between 10 minute baby naps and appetite has made my maternity wardrobe a thing of the past, but I've yet to break out any of the new finds I have for the season. In due time I hope!

Jeans Scene

2011-04-25T13:52:00.005-04:00

My love for denim is no secret. In this month's Harper's I was thrilled to see a glimpse of Ralph Lauren's new line of sturdy American staples (and enjoyed reading about his son's impending nuptials to the fashionable Lauren Bush, begging the question of surnames- to alliterate, or keep one's own famous maiden name?)

Granted the only denim I've donned since mid fall has had an elastic waist band and faux-fly, but it feels like only yesterday I was sliding my favorite straight cuts over my hips. Before I indulge my delights and purchase a new pair for fall 2011, I'm going to try my best to wait until a few weeks after baby, just in case i need to add a number to my former size (doctor assures me that wont be the case but I'll believe it when I'm zipping up my old jeans).

Though Ralph's collection is called 'high end', suggesting price tags with more digits than my last Visa bill, a pair of hand-washed novelties may be in the cards this summer (available at Ralph Lauren boutiques and online only). Counting the days (18 if we are to believe we will be one of the 5% of lucky couples who actual deliver on our due date....)

April Showers

2011-04-10T15:09:00.003-04:00

I have discovered something I enjoy even more than shopping for spring clothes for myself: Shopping for baby clothes. Most people probably think little ruffles and jumpers that go along with having a girl are the most desirable for such shopping. But I have enjoyed so thoroughly putting together outfits for a preppy, classic infant boy that I can't even imagine purchasing pink.

Since, at 9 months pregnant, much of the day is spent consumed by discomfort (a stress fracture on my left rib from the baby not helping matters), special shower gifts like a sweater vest and coordinating seersucker pants from Hartstrings (sold at Saks) considerably brighten the day. Brooks Brothers Fleece (which conveniently opened 8 minutes from our home) is now as irresistible on quick trips to Starbucks as Loft on 42nd and Lex used to be on the walk home from the Subway each night.

Until he's old enough to exercise volition in clothing choices, building the wardrobe of a soon-to-be baby is thrilling (and reminiscent of taking my Husband shopping back in the early days before his very first day of his very first job. Since then, he has become an enormous clothes horse who actually suggested he may need to share some space in my walk in closet. Cute.)

Wedge Woods

2011-03-31T09:57:00.003-04:00

Standing online behind 4 other people all waiting to pay gives one time to assess the pending purchases. I loved the cognac, braided leather, 3 inch heeled sandals in my hand, and at 30% off full price, I loved them even more. But in a sea of wedges, I was holding the only actual heel and it gave me pause. Heels are fabulous, but not so much for walking on grass or cobble stones, carrying children, or walking fast to keep up with a boss who likes to walk and talk (all of which lay ahead for me this summer). So reluctantly, (even perhaps a little shamefully?) I stepped out of the line and returned the box to a near by couch with an apologetic smile in the direction of the salesgirl.

Satisfied to have averted a wasteful purchase, I redirected my focus to a new pair of wedges, much more practical for my upcoming season. If price is of no concern, Chloe does 70's wedge better than most. Since I will be spending more on diapers than on duds this summer, I need to steer clear of Saks. J.Crew's collection of Italian leather wedges is hard to pass up, most prices south of $200 lessen the blow as well. I love the Marguerite and the Sevigne, both modest in height (and both flattering on the leg, if I'm to believe the well accessorised salesgirl in Walt Whitman). For a less severe look, with slightly more refinement, Loft's Frankie Wedge is a must have (especially at $79.50). No matter how many pedicures I get during the summer, my sandals seem to be gross by the seasons end and I have a hard time squeezing out an encore. While this is usually a nice excuse to shop, I am having pains parting with a particularly perfect black and tan pair from Ann purchased in spring 2010. The search goes on.

Never Say Never...

2011-03-15T18:58:00.005-04:00

At the risk of outing myself as a fashion hypocrite, I must admit to the facts of my day. I woke up at 7:00, when I had to be at work at 7:35 for meeting. While I usually lay all elements of my outfits out the night before (including under garments), lately this has still resulted in last minute changes to the chosen attire (the silk non-maternity tops Ive been clinging to for the past 32 weeks have officially been relegated to the unwearable section of the closet, along with many other items that pull at my heart each day. And mind you at 8 months pregnant I've gained exactly 19 pounds, which I hear is fairly standard and does not qualify me for the whale category yet, but tell that to my shirts).

So this morning, when the pre-selected gray silk tank pulled angrily at my stomach after being inched down over my shoulders, I ripped it off and frantically began digging through the cotton-spandex blended maternity tops from Pea in the Pod. With an acceptable top finally pulled comfortably over my bump, I needed a different pair of pants. Trusty demi-panel black pants were finally in the laundry, green cords worn the day before, and khakis saved for the spring like day predicted Friday. I eyed the top shelf, reserved for 'around the house' apparel, and slowly eased down a pair of black ankle length leggings with two fingers. With the tunic length top and ballet flats, they had to work for the day which now began in 10 minutes.

I wont lie, I felt comfortable all day, was able to sit and stand with zero textile resistance, and didn't rush to change when I got home this afternoon at the civilized hour of 4:30. I can't say I'm choosing function over fashion everyday, but today, the leggings saved me.

Expanding Shapes

2011-03-05T16:43:00.005-05:00

The thrill of maternity clothes peaks around 20 weeks, when you can finally fit into those demi-panel Seven jeans, and super cute Pea in the Pod tops you've been eying since week 4. By 31 weeks, the novelty has worn off, and all I want is regular clothes that are not cut like burlap sacks. As a 400 person gala I spend all winter organizing is fast approaching, the non-maternity size 2 Ann Taylor jersey dress that fit me last week no longer looks so cute this week (it has no zippers, buttons or closures, and is simply one straight cut piece of spandex that expands as it needs to. Picture eating nachos, a burger, and molten chocolate cake at Chili's, and never having to unzip your pants. It feel like that). Despite the addition of a maternity Spanx and fabulous bib necklace, my mirror just doesn't think the dress works anymore.

Luckily, stores such as Nordstroms offer many acceptable options, at prices that ease the pain of the purchase (I hate buying a dress I am destined to wear only once, I always try to get at least 2 wears per buy). I also love Isabella Oliver, but price tags north of $120 for a dress that will fit for about 8 more weeks just sting too much. With the help of my friend from college (whose May 14th wedding I will be in labor and delivery during), I anxiously await the arrival of my Olian colorblock dress, pictured right (reminiscent of Reese's Oscar gown on some small level) to see me through the event in 6 short weeks.

Stripes and Stripes and Stripes

2011-02-28T18:55:00.004-05:00

I came home from a shopping trip this weekend, hung up my new purchases immediately as usual, and had to do a double take in my new 10 foot deep walk in closet. There were now no less than 7 blue and white striped tops in the wardrobe (and this doesn't take into account the several more likely in the summer storage bags under the bed).

I had come home from Ann Taylor Loft with a hop in my step from the purchase of this super cute striped tunic (in a drapey cut that fit me now at 7.5 months pregnant, and will still look cute come summer). But my bubble was slightly deflated at the sight of so many similar tops, all in the same navy and white color combo (not to mention the above J.Crew blazer, and a few similar sweaters). I'm not sure there is ever a time that I can resist a striped top, and when given the option of several colors, I apparently stay loyal to my favorite in nautical classics. (I think they say to avoid horizontal stripes if you want to appear slimmer, and I'm not sure that at 30 weeks along, I should be donning them. But what I like, I like.)

So next time I head out and am wooed by the ubiquitous stripes that come with the season, I'll try my best to avoid a repeat impulse buy (or at least I'll attempt a different colorway, I do like red and white too).

Jean Scene

2011-02-21T16:39:00.007-05:00

I love denim as much as (if not more than) the next person. But a few head to toe looks from FW 2011 have left me cringing, no matter how 'chic' the critics may find it to be.

I'm happy to see the return of the trouser cut, which flatters most shapes, unlike the skinny jean which really doesn't look good on more than half of the people who wear it. (I'm also happy that I held on to my favorite Seven Dojo cut from college, which will likely still fit post baby, since at 7 months pregnant, I've yet to hit my early college weight).

Though jean shorts find their place on the runway, I find them best left to those under the age of 15 attending summer camp (although after watching too much of Dateline's 'To Catch a Predator', I think perhaps only pedophiles still wear them). Dsquared's version pictured left may be okay if you have those legs (and are not a 40 year old single man on the Internet).

Light weight denim and chambray have remained on the scene since the early 90's when Kelly and Brenda donned their favorites on 90210. (My favorite denim top is actually from the Gap, circa 2003. But I'll consider adding a short sleeve variety to the mix for spring '11). The hunt for the perfect wedge to add a little height to those trousers begins next.

Old is New

2011-02-12T13:46:00.005-05:00

Like wine, cheese, and Chanel, most things getting better with age. And with fashion, this can be true as well. Designers like Kate Spade have built empires on the vintage charm of an antique lace hem and a retro circle skirt with mary-janes.

I have an aversion to goods that have actually been worn or used (something about soft fabrics and their absorbency that just creeps me out), but not to their style. Vintage is more a state of style than a fact for me (unless we're talking about my grandmother's raffia envelope clutch from 1930). The Times talked to a few women who resurrect decades past every weekend when they don their dated duds and frequent New Orleans hot spots. Their frocks may have all the charm of a 1950's Chevy, but none of the age. Many designers have hopped on the 'old is new bandwagon' and are producing lines that ooze retro rehab, yet are made from newly minted fabrics.

There may be a drop of inauthenticity to this approach, but I'm not really sure its any different that using soy instead of regular milk- you want the flavor, but not the dairy. Style is dynamic, dimensional, and steeped in scents of those who came before. It takes a little from here, some more from there, discards what doesn't work (still waiting to see leggings drop off the fashion map) and retains that which inspires. In fashion, there is little that excites me more than a polka dot shirt dress, a full skirt nipped in delicately at the waist, or a pair of peep-toe ankle booties (I take my vintage with a healthy dose of modern). History can be brilliant.

Fools Gold

2011-02-02T16:05:00.004-05:00

Since E started airing all episodes of Sex and the City, I've been happily catching up on all that I've been missing since my DVD collection never made the move out of the city with me (some lucky person who frequents the Salvation Army is enjoying my repertoire as a bonus to his TV stand purchase).

Last night's episode was the famous post-Aidan break up (part 1) trip to LA where Samantha and Carrie consider buying a fake Fendi, only to realize just how sad the impostors look in the trunk of the car in 'the Valley'. Happily the story concludes with a reflection on how, even if others are fooled, Carrie would always know her bag was a fake. A victory for fashionistas and intellectual property lawyers alike.

Unfortunately not all North Shore Long Islanders adopt this philosophy, and I was forced to share a train seat with one such offender. It was bad enough that my warmest winter coat just barely zips over my 26 week stomach, the train arrived 15 minutes late, stopped numerous times between stations, and then crawled into Penn Station with the effort of an elderly man on oxygen. But the entire ride a large, middle aged woman insisted on resting her faux Gucci bag against my thigh, pressing it more firmly into me with each voyage her hand took to retrieve another snack. I tried to escape the contact of the vile object (made from who knows what), but I could only plaster myself against the armrest so hard before it began leaving an imprint in my side. Somewhere outside of Jamaica I couldn't tolerate it any longer, and found refuge standing near the doors. I suppose this is something I'll have to adjust to as a suburbanite.

Privacy, Please

2011-01-30T12:32:00.006-05:00

If I had several million lying around, I would definitely make a high risk investment with the potential for an equally high yield, perhaps a struggling new designer, or a solar powered hair iron. The 2 private equity firms that put their heads together and decided to buy J.Crew for a reasonable $3 billion this past November certainly had the right idea (and stock prices have confirmed consumer confidence of this decision).

Since the end of turkey day, I've been anxiously awaiting any sign of the new ownership in the brand's veneer, hoping that it doesn't manifest in another price tag hike, and that any impact is rather minimal, akin to a new microderm abrasion peel rather than a face lift. So far so good- spring appears to be eternal, ethereal, and inspiring of trips to the tropics, as per the usual. (I've found a few one-piece bathing suits I'll be needing for post-baby summer days at our private community pool, so cute that I will hardly be missing my usual bikinis. My good friend is planning her May honeymoon, and has stocked up on much of the January capsule resort wear, making me both excited for the pictures, and jealous that I can't also take another honeymoon this spring).

But the longer term effects of transition into the private sector have yet to be seen. Reports predict 'aggressive' store expansion, and this always carries a risk. Part of what makes a brand so enticing is its mild accessibility, both in terms of price and location, and anything as pervasive as McDonalds loses something. But we will wait with baited breath for what lies ahead!

Club Wear

2011-01-17T11:24:00.004-05:00

In The Devil Wears Prada, when Anne Hathaway's unsupportive boyfriend, upon hearing news of her new fashion job tells her that, to her, Club Monaco is couture, I always think, whats wrong with that? I was happy to see news in February's Harpers Bazaar that famed photographer Ryan McGinley and actress Lou Doillon collaborated on the chic brand's spring line.

During my fashion merchandising days, between my time at Ann and the beginning of law school, I helped design and implement a spring floorset for for Club Monaco's Soho location and in the process, took home 3 large bags full of new finds with the lovely 40% off employee discount, temporary as it may have been. Few know that Club is actually owned by Ralph Lauren, one of its few non-eponymous brands. But if you look closely, the child's aesthetic (clean, modern, sportswear) is really an apple from the tree. The feel of the clothes is decidedly urban, with European tones evident in cuts and details. With no online shopping (other than through sites like Shop Bop), Club Monaco is a bit of an anomaly in this day. I have to have a coral silk shirt dress shown in Harper's under a taupe masculine vest, (the loose shape of which will be forgiving this summer, post baby). I feel slightly ridiculous shopping for such items in the store at the moment, given my 6 month belly, but I'm looking ahead to needs for the season ahead as always. Check out your nearest Club Monaco for a spring treat.

Splits and Rips

2011-01-12T13:50:00.003-05:00

If you are a fan of Bravo's Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, and happen to adore, pity or otherwise be enchanted by cast member Camille Grammer, do not read any further. I find her vile, to such a degree that I have a difficult time watching the show without hurling a diatribe of insults at the TV screen, to the background of questions from my husband as why it is I keep watching if I seem to hate it so much.

In the wake of her July 2010 divorce, and in anticipation of Thursday night's episode, it seems the tart is making the usual press rounds. I can scarcely contain myself when commercials for tomorrow's episode air, in light of Camille's psychotic physic predicting the demise of marriages around her, yet not uttering a word about the impending failure of her dear friend's nuptials, and the 'boulders' Camille throws inside her glass house. Again, I've been trying to rise above the petty, but every now and then, a romp through the mud is a necessary therapy akin to a trip to the spa or a sale at Barneys (where they really don't sell maternity clothes anyway).

Had the Grammers been married in New York, Camille would be entitled to half the pot (bless equal division of the assets) given the lack of a prenup (did Kelsey lack a good lawyer in his Rolodex 13 years years ago?). Seemingly, California divorce laws are on par as settlement rumors swirl. Amidst such reports of a $50 million settlement, I'm sure Mr. Grammer is kicking himself with his Prada loafers. Tune in tomorrow at 10 if you need a good cathartic release!

High End Hopes

2011-01-07T16:26:00.003-05:00

Shopping can be more than a proverbial rush, it can actually be therapeutic, neuro-chemically speaking. And anything that lifts the spirits can make a fulfilling career, right? Now, you can actually get a masters degree in the art of shopping and catering to the super-rich, according to January's Marie Claire.

The International University of Monaco offers a masters program that prepares graduates to be experts in high end luxury goods, like yachts, jewelry, and fashion. Its a sales based degree that shapes grads to sell to those with the cash to carry. The director, Annalisa Tarquini, first dreamed up the idea while working for Louis Vuitton Moet Hennessey, where, as the name alone indicates, luxury lives. 35 applicants a year will have the honor of completing the degree program for the equivalent of $29,600 US dollars a year. At a fraction of the cost to attend law school, perhaps this would have been worth my while back in 2006. Those Europeans seem to do everything better than us!

Stormy Sights

2010-12-27T13:55:00.004-05:00

Sunday evening's snow storm certainly sent suburbia into a tailspin this weekend. A mere 8 months ago I lived in Murray Hill, Manhattan, where the winter weather merely necessitates Burberry rubber boots and perhaps a hat. I realize that leaving the confines of city dwelling carries certain liberties, but all such freedoms (cars, no more subways, organic farm stands that don't require import tax) come at a price (no more strolls down Madison, owning a shovel, enduring more sweatsuits and Ugg Boots than I thought humanly possible- and I live on Long Island's North Shore, a mere 30 minute drive from Manhattan).

Yesterday morning, despite the anticipated blizzard, we went to the local market to stock up on supplies for the annual dinner party we host after Christmas for my best girlfriends and their men. The parking lot, which resembled the news reports from Black Friday where that poor Walmart worker was killed, more than an organic local market on a Sunday morning, should have deterred us off the bat. But my cravings for light spinach dip and jello pudding snacks were stronger than my anti sweatpants as daywear instincts. After fighting an oversized couple for the last shopping cart, I was already exhausted and ready to grab the goods and get going. A fight at the deli counter was about to turn physical as we sped through the store in search of the few items on our list. Granted, it was cold, it was early, and many inches of snow were in the forecast. But there was not a wildfire, flood, imminent tornado or any other natural disaster that might require one to leave the house in their pajamas in search of rescue or sustenance. Be that as it may, the sight of the people on the checkout lines rivaled the scene at BJ's the weekend after Thanksgiving. Men had plaid pants tucked partially into boots, women had everything from nightgowns over leggings to long underwear and slippers. One woman had on a robe. An actual robe, not a cute sweater coat that men like to make fun. I'm 5 months pregnant and I managed a pair of black leggings, a coordinating zip-front terry jacket and snow boots (my husband, who doesn't own a pair of sweatpants, wore corduroys I gave him for Christmas, an argyle Brooks Brothers sweater and Geox waterproof driving loafers. A match made in heaven). Life in the suburbs will certainly take some getting used to!

Perspectives from Paris

2010-12-19T15:52:00.005-05:00

As much as I love the holiday season and all the preparations that accompany the 30 degree days, I took a breather this weekend and dove blissfully into the January issues I had backlogged since the first of the month. I enjoyed Anne Slowey's account of the spring shows, which, for the first time in her career, she had to partake in the same way us mere mortals always do- from the couch.

As I near the half way mark to delivery, the thought of dressing in head to toe white doesn't conjure pleasant images in my head (that plus Saturday night dinner at Bryant and Cooper, where I nearly finished the bread basket before my fillet mignon arrived). However, the drape and swing of summer gauze in bright hues does sound appealing right about now. The pages of Elle are littered with interesting (often odd) shapes and silhouettes that won't translate to mass market America (as is the point of many European Houses). Anne notes that, from the couch, many of the fashions traipsing down the runway look better suited for the early episodes of Project Runway than high couture shows. This is the sentiment many viewers report, and perhaps we all need tickets to Vuitton before we can truly appreciate the intricate delicacy of the hot orange, floor length gown with Star Trek-like shoulder points. I'm eager to shop in regular stores again, and the neutrals paired with citrus brights on deck for next season look good enough to eat (as do many things these days).

Holiday Cheer

2010-12-13T17:03:00.006-05:00

This weekend was full of dining, decorating, and dancing. When I took this job over the summer, I imagined attending numerous cocktail parties and finally having someplace to wear my sheath dresses and pencil skirts, but the particular details of what I was in for were always elusive. Saturday evening's holiday party, hosted in a private residence in Matinecock, Long Island (Great Gatsby comes to mind) was one for the record books. If my trip to the Queens Mall last winter represented a low point (in terms of self worth as measured by one's loathsome surroundings and the realization that such cultural ideals exist in today's world) this party signified a height of sorts (fashion, food, and all around fabulousness).

I knew I was in for a treat when one of the hosts greeted my husband and me decked in a red plaid Brooks Brothers vest. From there I took in several sequin mini dresses, patent pumps, Essie A-List red nails, Harry Winstons, and just the right amount of velvet. (My husband tugged at my elbow and I saw his eyes light up at the sight of the 5-tier raw bar with everything from oysters to king crab legs, but I asked him not to distract me from the fashions, which, unlike raw fish, I could actually savor.) The 12 piece band played to the background of clinking ice and vodka in crystal martini shakers (another pang as I sipped my club soda), and the ice sculptures picked up the reflecting sheen of many precious stones. (A limited edition Chanel clutch circa 2008 nearly stole my breath, but if I held it in too abruptly, I risked rupturing the seam of my non-maternity size 2 cocktail dress I insisted on wearing.) Tis the season!

New Shapes

2010-12-08T18:38:00.004-05:00

As the holidays approach, my calendar at work resembles a page from Elle more than that of an ordinary, 20-something new suburbanite. Between charity events, cocktail parties and office obligations my closet is getting more of a workout than I do these days. With the added complication of an expanding waistline, I've had to up the usual amount of effort I put into the seasonal task of holiday wardrobing.

Many of my favorite go-to's won't accommodate my shape for the next 20 something weeks so I've had to branch out (luckily, Pea in the Pod and Ann Taylor's Loft diffusion line offer me some assistance). Happily sequins are still on the scene, and while slightly predictable for holiday, some things just make sense. There's nothing like a sparkling cropped cardigan over a silky, draped tank to almost make me forget I'll be drinking Pelligrino with lime instead of Cabernet all season long. (And the most pleasing moment I've had was when an older co-worker asked if she could still expect to marvel at my ensembles in the ensuing months. Of course!) Besides, the demi-waist panel is one of the most spectacular inventions of the 21st century.

Freshly Baked at Home

2010-12-02T09:05:00.004-05:00

Much to my chagrin, making gifts yourself seems to go out of style as you exit the 6th grade. I spent many hours circa 1998 crouched over a pile of threads and old denim on my bedroom floor sewing meticulous hand bags and clutches by hand, utilizing the most random treasures I found in the house (flexible plastic straws for supportive structure, fake lillies for adronments). But perhaps crafts are not passe after all. Fashionista works with Erica Domesek (of P.S. I Made This) on fabulous DIY trinkets, and if she can do it, why not me?

It is fitting around the holiday season to explore the most cost effective (if not time saving) ways to give a trinket from the heart. While I love to give a coriander scented delicacy from Dyptique, or cashmere gloves from the counter at Bloomies, a move to the suburbs, a 2nd car, the insurance to match, and nursery furniture nibble at the funds ordinarily reserved for such gifts. I don't think my back will allow me to resume my days of bag-making on the bedroom floor, but I certainly will be perusing the knitting needles and yarn from the college days (we needed an activity apart from drinking and partying sometimes) in an effort to resurrect that DIY spirit this season. Besides, the best looking, chicest cold weather accessories look hand made and cost $400. Why pay?

Cyber Anyone?

2010-11-29T17:53:00.004-05:00

On the Friday after Thanksgiving I like to avoid retailers in the same manner I avoid leggings. Apparently hell has frozen over, because last Friday, I found myself in a BJ's, some massive warehouse grocery store I had only heard suburban rumors about until last week. Save for the fact that I now have enough paper towels and lemon-lime Canada Dry to last me until 2012, the experience was shell shocking, and not one I look forward to repeating (and don't let me get started on what people we were wearing to this BJ's, since I'm trying to be nicer in the spirit of the holidays. I didn't know slippers doubled as outdoor footwear.)

Unlike the shameful running of the bulls that our country undergoes on Black Friday, Cyber Mondays are relaxing and anonymous, the way many prefer to shop these days. The depth of the discounts signal the health (or lack there of) for the different retailers. For example, you can get 40% off and free shipping at Ann Taylor and all related stores, but a measly 15% off at all Gap companies (it would appear the tables have turned this season). Savings will continue until midnight, so those who worked with heavy internet firewalls all day can come home and indulge from the privacy of the micro suede couch.

All About the Whale

2010-11-16T18:12:00.002-05:00

Do you relish the present season for the food? The fashions? The tweed? How about the corduroy? This past weekend while watching my Husband's Sunday morning news lineup, I was fascinated by a segment on a group (or cult?) call the Corduroy Appreciation Club.

I mean I love a pair of cords as much as the next. I stick with the 5-pocket boot cut classics, and the more modern 'toothpick' ankle skimming variety. I even have a wide-whaled hunter green blazer from fall 2008 that I never miss an opportunity to wear. But I never considered there might be an entire gaggle of fans who meet, sing, write, and hail the cloth.

The club meets on 11/11 each year in the City (since the repetition of '1's' most closely resembles the whale of the beloved corduroy). Their mascot, is of course, the whale (they chant and give praise to the whale). Poets gave readings, songwriters sang their hearts out, and thousands of fans (3,500 current members of the club) cheered them on. I appreciate any such enthusiasm and dedication to fashion, no matter how specific or obscure it may seem. I see a kindred spirit in the cord club.

Barely Legal

2010-11-13T16:55:00.004-05:00

Though fashion and law intermix often these days, its not often in the way Above the Law reported last week. Brooklyn Law allowed Diesel to shoot an ad in their library, which, anyone who is familiar with the denim brand knows, is not exactly an easy fit. (My good friend is a Brooklyn Law grad, and since she, like me, prefers tailored separates to Euro-trash as an aesthetic, you can imagine her reaction.)

Calling Diesel 'fashion' is almost a stretch these days, as its more akin to tacky lingerie than style fit for the world outside the bedroom. I remember the days I would order a pair of the $180 jeans from my dorm room at college, and run excitedly back from the mail room when they'd arrive. A night at the Jug was infinitely more fun in a pair of hip-hugging, boot cut Diesels ('straight' and 'skinny' didn't come into vocabulary until the year I graduated from college). My friend from my days at Ann Taylor left the style stalwart to work at Diesel in 2006, and when they passed out colorful condoms to everyone on Friday afternoons, she knew she had made quite the culture shift.

Perhaps the ads will give law students a needed distraction in the days before final exams (a time I now relish and won't even read for pleasure during).

Party Ready

2010-11-11T19:42:00.005-05:00

My affinity for J.Crew is hardly unique. When the catalogue comes each month, I seldom toss it aside without crafting at least one new outfit for the week. You can imagine my delight when I read about the debut of the brand's long-conceived new line line, 769 (named after the flagship Madison Ave store, where, of course, you can exclusively find the new digs. Perhaps its a good thing for my bank account that we left our Murray Hill apartment which was a stone's throw away).

Elle's Whitney Vargas describes the collection as "dressy ready-to-wear," which basically calls to mind most items from the last few seasons of the classics. Creative Director and company President Jenna Lyons calls it "the J.Crew girl turned up a notch." Regardless of the prose used, the pieces make the anticipation of holiday invitations even more palpable. (I'm not sure I can pull off a pair of $650 sequined harem pants, but I do love to look at a picture of Katie Holmes in them.) The roughed-up pretty look of jacquard and denim, argyle socks and satin platforms, is irresistible and kinda makes you think. Rather then reaching for the cardigan and black pants, a sparkle belt or bejeweled tank can loosen things up a bit. (And if you have the legs, I'd love to see some knee socks!)

The Boot

2010-11-04T18:22:00.004-04:00

Much the same way that you can't help but stare at an accident in the opposite lane on the LIE, I was flipping channels last night and came across Steve Madden on HSN and couldn't turn it off (at least not right away). I of course recited the name of each boot that he shamelessly peddled, and found it difficult not to offer commentary along with each style that traipsed down the faux runway (none of which was G rated).

Regardless of my residual angst and heart palpitations at the sight of the SM logo, I happen to love flat boots more than any other article of footwear (an artifact of a childhood spent on horseback, decked in traditional English sportswear?) Since I can no longer wear daily denim, fitting the classic flat riding boot into my weekly wardrobe is more of a challenge than in previous years. My favorite pair is still a score from Cole Haan at Bloomingdale's that I got in exchange for several off-registry wedding gifts that my Husband would sooner part with than pay out of pocket for new boots for. The ever-loathed legging comes in quite handy when trying to avoid jeans and still enjoy the tall boot (by 'legging' I refer to J.Crew's Pixie Pant, the most acceptable form of a leg-hugging skin I can manage).

Since each season calls for at least one new pair of boots, I've been browsing the under $200 selections, in the spirit of saving money for our impending move the suburbs in a few weeks. The pair from Ralph Lauren pictured right is quite a deal for the style and quality. (Steve Madden happens to offer a bunch of boots under $200, but I just won't go there.) Happy shopping!

Legs and All

2010-10-29T18:28:00.004-04:00

The November cover of the J.Crew catalogue inspired a month long search for the perfect pair of gray tights. Sure, the ones featured in the pages themselves would have done just fine, but J.Crew is no longer in my daily path and lately I refuse to pay $8 on shipping for something that costs only slightly more.

While wearing skirts in the summer is fun, there's nothing quite like a pair of opaque, woolly tights to take the skirt to a whole different level in the colder weather. As soon as the leaves turn and begin to fall, I reach to the back of the drawer for the Wolfords. In the spirit of not spending $30 on a pair of tights that will probably snag or rip by the end of the season, I was looking elsewhere.

My new job, which leaves room in my schedule for weekly lunches with my mother, is also a stone's throw from a lovely little plaza with boutiques and shops galore. After our weekly lunch date, I had a few extra minutes for a stop in at Banana Republic. A 25% off your entire purchase sign was music to my eyes, as were the the perfect shade of gray, textured tights snuggled into the accessories bin to the left of the door. I snatched them up (along with a new wool mini skirt to match) and headed to the counter with my new obsession satiated. Almost as good as taco night.

Blonde Ambition

2010-10-23T16:26:00.005-04:00

I won't say that Elle Woods was my inspiration when I applied to law school in 2005, while at the time working as an assistant buyer for Ann Taylor. But Legally Blonde certainly didn't hurt. The first year of school was a blur; endless reading requiring my first real pair of glasses, Socratic method-induced nausea, and a new found fear of subways (and one of the few highlights- being told by a classmate I hardly spoke to that she loved every single outfit I wore, and asked what I hoped do after law school. Good question).

Had there been something similar to Fordham's Fashion Law Institute at the time, I think law school may have been an entirely different experience for me. The new course of study may have the law school halls chocked full of a new breed of student, possessing not just intelligence (which, in law school, is as pervasive as hangovers freshman year in college), but also a style savvy that is largely unprecedented in such locales. An added bonus is that style icon and wrap-dress inventor Diane von Furstenberg backs the program (internships anyone?)

I am pretty happy in my new line of work, where law makes a daily appearance in the form of contracts with venues for various galas and events, and a high school moot court club I'm fortunate enough to head up. But Fordham's Institute certainly opens a lot of doors for those who haven't yet found their fashionable calling.

Shorts and Loafers

2010-10-17T15:18:00.005-04:00

A fall weekend is rarely complete without a trip to J.Crew. Among the plush cashmere and light as a feather merino, I got momentarily lost in what felt like a visit to Barnes and Noble. The new preppy must have Take Ivy (complete with issue number out of a proclaimed 300 copies, fact or fiction being largely irrelevant) was the find of the month.

Originally published in Japan in the 60's, the revamped treat is bursting with inspirational photos and serves as a diary for the ages. (My coworker who cannot accept that the leather sleeved, felt body varsity jacket is a thing of the past would surely love to get this as a gift.) At my liberal arts college, which liked to call itself a 'little ivy", though I'm not sure what that really means, there were more sweatshirts than oxfords between the hours of 9am and 6pm. While I stand by my aversion to men's hairy legs, I can't completely condemn the madras and penny loafers when done so deliberately. I think ripping out page 11 and placing it behind my desk might be a nice reminder of what young men are capable of.

Short Sighted

2010-10-11T08:18:00.007-04:00

When I was abroad in Australia junior year of college, we took a 2 week long spring break trip into the interior of the continent. In preparation for the trip, which would involve a lot of hiking, rain forests (and other foreign modes of travel for a bunch of Northeastern liberal arts college kids), we were instructed to buy sturdy, practical backpacks that would be filled with multiple water bottles for our journeys. After a trip to the local mall, and perusing the many 'practical' options (various shades of hideous nylon with straps and buckles that resembled something from the show Lost more than something I'd be caught dead carrying), I went with a single strap pack from Diesel, which was worn across the chest and, in my opinion, qualified as a 'backpack', and was extremely cute.

On the second day of our 2 week excursion, it was over 100 degrees, and we were 3 hours into an infinite hike up a red-clay covered mountain side. I had already finished the only 2 12 ounce water bottles that my fashionable pack would hold, while my companions had many of reserves still to spare in their oversized, ugly yet utilitous sacks. I was miserable, dehydrated, and exhausted by the time the sun began to set and we returned to our bungalow.

The moral of the story, however, is not that I will thrown taste and aesthetics to the wind when shopping for a item of apparel with a specific function in mind. Rather I will just be sure the particular good meets the requisite need before indulging in the first cute option that comes along. With that in mind, I set my sights on this Marc Jacobs messenger bag as a fall must have for my new lifestyle which includes a lot of being prepared on the go. (I also actually like this Coach convertible, since they decided to offer options that err on the side of classic Coach and don't blind you with assaultive logos). No matter how many you own, there's nothing quite like the thrill of a new purse (especially when its lack of storage space won't cause you to faint on a mountain side down under).

Laced Up

2010-09-28T18:28:00.003-04:00

Mens tailoring is nothing new on the fashion map, but that doesn't mitigate my obsession with it every time fall rolls in. This season, as oxfords are firmly planted in the scene, they've taken on softer notes.

Whether you prefer the originals (pictured left from J.Crew) or the newly feminized variety that come with cutouts and heels, they work for the office or cocktails (and days where one leads into another, as is often the case for me in my new line of work). If you don't feel like shelling out $250 on your first pair, try these from Matisse for under $100, with free shipping. If you're of the many who admire the laced up shoe on your friend, but don't quite feel you can pull it off, give it a try. You'll trade in your weekend sneakers if nothing else. With your boyfriend's watch and some large jewelry, its the perfect alternative to the black pump.

Legally Speaking

2010-09-14T18:32:00.003-04:00

A staple in every prepster's wardrobe is the classic bow tie, especially a navy and white striped version from Brooks Brothers. But did you ever take a close look at those ties? Apparently the adorning patent numbers, used for mostly aesthetic purposes, struck a nerve with a New Jersey lawyer who discovered the use of expired numbers on the clothier's merchandise (perhaps he had too much time on his hands).

Upon hearing of the suit last May, I, like the judge hearing the claims, didn't think the lawyer had any standing to sue (lack of personal stake in the subject matter or outcome of the case). But on August 31st a Federal Circuit Court in Washington thought otherwise and allowed the lawyer to sue.

Other than committing a fashion faux pas if tied incorrectly, or using a pre-tied variety, I can't see the harm in the expired patent numbers on the bow ties. Unlike some retail perpetrators who rip off other's ideas faster than a linen strip at the waxing salon, Brooks Brothers can't be said to have tried to profit through thievery (in fact, lack of intent to deceive is a defense to the action). I think the lawyers should save their strength for more pressing matters (habeas corpus claims, financial fraud, women who wear harem pants) and leave the veteran retailer and its iconic silk ties alone.

What Goes Around Comes Around, Again

2010-09-09T16:28:00.003-04:00

Though its tempting to cleanse one's closet of all pieces that haven't been worn in the past 2 seasons in order to create much needed space (if you live in or near the City), a glance through the September issues is a lesson in restraint.

Example: I have had this full, mid length, ocean blue, jade green and ivory skirt from Club Monaco since approximately 2004. When I first moved to the city to join Ann Taylor's buyers training program after college I remember it being one my very first splurges ($160 for a skirt is still a splurge in my book, by the way). The full fabric nips in at the natural waist and bows out subtly below. As trends and hem lengths have risen and fallen with moon, the skirt had moved further back in the wardrobe, taking a back seat to pencils, above the knee tweed minis, and tulip cuts. Flash forward to present day, and Marc Jacobs collection for Louis Vuitton has placed the full, mid length, ladylike skirt front and center. The treasure from 2004 suddenly is fresh and so happily still hanging in my closet. (The same story can be told about my Coach platform, 3 inch heeled penny loafers from 2006, which, with the addition of fresh soles at the local shoe repair, eliminate the need for Prada's 2010 version.)

Take care when closet purging, so that the inevitable fall binge does not leave you regretting your choices.

A Toast to Taste

2010-09-01T17:53:00.007-04:00

No better way to kick off a Labor Day weekend than with a fall shopping spree, and a trip to the green market for all the necessities for a weekend of boats and bbq's. (The former included this sweater and tank from Banana, this skirt and trousers from Loft, and this necklace and silk top from J.Crew, to go with aforementioned bottoms. Fall is the time I break my own rules and pay full price, I can't bear the worry they will sell out of my size). A little threat of a hurricane won't dampen the whole weekend, and will provide a nice excuse to take the Hubs to the movies for the only feature I actually want to see this Summer (no, not Eat, Pray Love).

Planning the party is half the fun, and you can set the tone of the event early on with good old fashioned invitations (I detest the 'Evite' and will never send one. If I'm going to invite you via the Internet, I'll just send you an email). If you love the Evite, but appreciate the beauty of a real invitation, Paperless Post offers a fabulous line of Internet-age invitations that have all the splendor of the real thing. Whether you're hosting or attending this weekend, a nice bottle of Pindar's Sauvignon Blanc is a good choice at a great price (my friends who detest chardonnay and those who love it can all agree on this wine). If your host is like some of my gracious, newly homeowner friends, she may say bring nothing but yourselves. Even when someone tells you that, always show up with something. (If I ever tell you we don't need anything I'm either lying or distracted. Wine is always welcomed.)

Happy Holidays, and please don't pack away the white. Wear if happily once Monday has passed!

Kitten Kicks

2010-08-30T20:47:00.003-04:00

This weekend, in an effort to cleanse my space, I carted no less than 13 pairs of shoes off to the donation pile when, after trying them on my feet one last time, their narrow, dart like pointy toes reminded me of duck beaks. After several seasons of the soft, subtle, round toes I first fell in love with back in 2005 in a Marc Jacobs store, I just can't lust for a pair of pointy.

Though I'm into all or nothing when it comes to my heel height (whether they be round or pointy), I'm sure many are thrilled to see the reemergence of the kitten heel for fall. Personally, I either need to be able to run around all day and will opt for the classic ballet flat (my favorite 3 years in a row is this Ferragamo staple), or I want to take my pencils up a notch with a solid 3-4 inch pump (the Cole Haan platform is my go to). In between just doesnt fit for me anymore- like wearing sneakers outside of the gym.

But if you, like many, are into the itsy bitsy boost to the ball of the heel, you are in luck this season. (On one of my last days in shoe buying land, I witnessed an argument between the buying director and a junior buyer over the need to actually get on board with the trend for fall, and though the neophyte lost the resistance, I sympathized with her pain over having to be the one to place an order for 1200 pairs.) Even Manolo offers a kitten heel for fall, along with Jimmy Choo, and Louboutin. And for those of us renting 1 bedroom apartments, Nine West and Enzo among many others have affordable versions that will fill your need.

Timeless Tiffany

2010-08-24T21:32:00.004-04:00

Its kind of fun these days choosing which bag to carry to work each morning (now that my entire life no longer needs to fit inside, no more risk of stretching Louis Epi leather). 'It' bags change with the season's leaves, but this fall's new totes and clutches have staying power. Tiffany & Co. introduces its first line of bags, complete with the alluring details of its world renowned jewelry.

Created by Robert Lambertson and John Truex (whose brand Tiffany acquired in May 2009), the line features 44 items in all shapes and sizes. Since Tiffany's specific hue of blue is one of the first and most prime examples of color serving as protected, registered trademark, it is only fitting that the color can be found in decadent purse linings and details. Though growing up on the North Shore of Long Island and attending a triple digit number of bat mitzvahs may have jaded me slightly when it comes to the little Blue Box, the sophistication of the new line certainly amps up the lust factor for the fall merchandise (besides, several upcoming new work galas and benefits call for the right measure of timeless accessory). For more info, check out page 129 of September's InStyle. The line landed just in time for the upcoming 1 year wedding anniversary...

Legally Speaking

2010-08-20T17:39:00.006-04:00

In the ongoing debate over copyright in the fashion industry, I find more and more that its hard to choose a side. Unlike the decision to get highlights or bangs, extending full copyright protection to designers is not an impulse buy that can be easily undone with some do it yourself home remedy.

This article on the pros and cons of such a measure makes a lot of thought provoking points. Setting aside the nature of copyright law and its origins (to encourage creative productions and provide incentives to authors of ingenuity and culture) there is the issue of determining who actually owns the rights to the work itself (only the owner has the right to reproduce, among others). The example provided in the article of the National Jazz Museum not being able to publicly distribute a valued recording to the many fans around the world due to inability to ascertain original copyright ownership, is an illustration that would be amplified in fashion. Imagine trying to decide who really was the first to bring the speedy bag to fruition? (Probably the first ever medical doctor, since the speedy is really the doctors original bag).

I'm not abandoning hopes of extending protection to those who dedicate their lives to creating only to have their ideas ripped and reproduced by the likes of Forever21 and Steve Madden (thank you, new job) but its not as black and white as a Chanel tweed jacket.

Phoning it in

2010-08-16T18:33:00.004-04:00

In the Verizon store this weekend I learned more than I ever wanted to about phones (and the neighborhood between Long Island and New York City). I'm not sure where I was when the cell phone became the new accessory of the season, on par with a hand bag or pair of peep-toe ankle booties. But as I stood number 18 in line (to replace my husband's phone from 2006, and only because the screen finally cracked), I realized that all the people ahead of me were trading up for flashier, newer, shinier cell phones.

As my name neared the top of the list I grew even more impatient and crowded closer to the counter, as if that might speed up the woman being helped. By time I was called, I had spent sufficient time surveying the phones strapped into cradles and held in place by anti-theft devices to have developed a small craving for the new Blackberry. (Don't ask me about the iPhone, I can't understand a touch screen, I cannot navigate applications that replace human thought and can count the calories in your sandwich as you chew, and I despise AT&T). Though my Blackberry worked perfectly fine, it was gray, dull, and its buttons had faded. The new model came in the feminine fall favorite, lavender, and fit snugly into my hand like a perfectly molded appendage. After we had negotiated a nearly free phone to replace my husband's 4 year old flip, I grabbed the purple accessory and slipped it across the counter. My husband shook his head as the salesman looked pleased to ring another item. With a $100 mail in rebate, my new accessory cost much less than a new Miu Miu tote, and will probably get more use.

Neutral Gear

2010-08-11T21:02:00.005-04:00

Ever since Phoebe Philo took the reins at Celine 2 years ago, I've been pleasantly surprised by the brand's allure. Just as she did for Chloe in the late 90's (working with the legendary Stella McCartney) it seems the fashion veteran has revamped the previously stale label into a ripe, fresh treat ready to be plucked.

Camel and black is hardly new, but as you may know by now, I'm not one who is wowed by newness. I have yet to see a combo as compelling, easy to wear, and classic as the 2 tones slapped together like a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Celine has been around since 1945, when it was a children's shoe maker, so the brand has age on its side. A house that can weather the fickle fashion forecasts certainly knows a thing or two about reinvention. Sleek silhouettes in neutral palettes alone don't make for Celine's notoriety, the textile mix of cashmere and leather offset the ultra feminine vibe with spikes of masculinity (which you cannot avoid loving this season). If you, like me, can't quite swing a Celine pencil or knee length pea coat, the mass marketers have their own translation of the fall staples that will fit just right.

photo credit to NY Magazine

Toting Less

2010-08-03T08:45:00.003-04:00

For a new job that no longer involves the NYC Subway system, and instead requires my own personal car (a first for me, like many urbanites) some adjustments can be made to my daily routine. The city dweller knows all too well that the forecast determines more than a bad hair day. 'Chance of showers' means proper footwear (rainboots or flip flops?) an umbrella compact enough to pack along with said footwear, and a tote that won't wilt or wither under acidic city rain. Most days, my work bag resembled an overly stuffed holiday ham brimming with supplies for the many scenarios that might require them in the 12 hour work day.

Tomorrow, I relish the chance to pack just a few items in one of my scarcely used, smaller bags for the day ahead. The options one has when 'walking shoes' are no longer necessary and a pair of moderate heels can take you through the day are liberating (perhaps not quite as liberating, though, as the new 8 hour work day which ends at 4pm, can you imagine? I can't.)

Some of fall's cutest bags are modeled after 1950's coin purses and can fit nothing more than a Blackberry and a tube of Clinique almost lipstick. A classic Cole Haan is a nice choice, as is the very urban Marc Jacobs mini satchel. (The Fendi convertible is scrumptious, for a pretty penny even at Bluefly.) Though the day may require a few more necessities, I may try my hand at packing a crossbody mini for the sheer challenge if paring down.

Mad(?) for Mad Men

2010-07-29T14:30:00.006-04:00

Though I tried to get on board the Mad Men fan train (for the fashions, if nothing else) last year, I just couldn't do it. I would inevitably leave the couch mid episode to answer the phone, wash the dishes, or do any myriad of chores to avoid watching the entirety of an hour long chapter. Last Sunday, since I was beginning a week-long staycation between jobs, I thought I'd give it one more try with the season premier. To no avail.

What I do love about the series (and do not need to watch the actual episodes to appreciate) is the costume work. Janie Bryant received an Emmy nomination for her work on the set of Mad Men, and such honor is well deserved. As the EllE Blogs report, Bryant is now launching her own fashion line. Though it will sell only on QVC (I'm not much of a home shopper, excluding those additional 30% off sale emails from J.Crew I jump allover) I hope the line finds its way to some department store shelves come next season.

The iconic 60's sheath and ladylike dressing reaching the mainstream through television is a fabulous turn of events, one that might help rescue America from the slobification currently gripping the nation with an iron fist. While I can't quite tolerate the story lines or saturated arrogance that makes it hard to like any single character on the show, I do love to see the outfits like breaths of fresh air (from an era when the air was in fact fresher, despite the popularity of indoor smoking).

photo credit AMC website

A Wash of Color

2010-07-26T09:37:00.003-04:00

As if their iconic trenches and newly chic sportswear under Creative Director Christopher Bailey weren't enough to covet, Burberry's cosmetic line was officially launched earlier this month. Reading about it for months doesn't quite have the same affect as a trip to Nordstroms (home of the launch) and swab of lipstick.

It is perhaps the same psychological phenomena at play as when Chanel lipstick sales soar as the stock market tumbles like a drunken frat boy. But whatever the explanation, the ability to own a piece of a luxury brand creates momentum that transcends economic strata and opens the market to the masses. (The finely etched Nova Check plaid on each buttery cylinder of the lipstick itself is a nice touch to make the connection more tangible.)

As my good friend Christine knows all too well, $30 and a new tube of skin tone altering lipstick can take the biting edge off a 10pm deadline (I like no. 13 Heather best).

Workplace Hazards

2010-07-21T18:18:00.006-04:00

On Monday mornings in retail merchandising land, reality is suspended for about 4 hours during which time perfectly normal women are transformed into wildebeests. Fights break out over the color printer, obscenities ricochet off the walls like angry bullets, and calculators are often thrown to the ground and stomped on like glasses at a Jewish wedding ceremony. All of this frenzy ensues in a mad rush to print the Monday reports, recapping the previous week's business (and deciding for some if they will still have jobs come next month).

On this past Monday, during a particularly tense period of morning turmoil (summer sales designed to liquidate warm weather merchandise to clear room for fall goods not quite doing the trick) one poor girl was doing the work of 3 (and the poor girl was not me for a change). The boss let out a blood curdling scream for the girl, and on instinct as if the Titanic were sinking, the girl lept up from her desk and dashed into the hallway, Starbucks still in hand. Unfortunately, a rather large hand truck from the warehouse was parked outside of our door for morning sample delivery, and the girl's foot met with the obstacle with an audible 'crash'. As she tumbled face first into the boss's office, we all jumped up in fear for the girl. Her foot was bent at an awkward angle and her face was as white as sushi rice. Our boss, witnessing this incident head on, dropped her eyes to the newly placed carpeting, and asked "did you just spill coffee on my floor?". The scene was a nice confirmation of my decision to leave this job for a new one, beginning early next month.

Mid-Week tid bit

2010-07-20T22:38:00.004-04:00

In the midst of shopping for a new wardrobe for a new job (and a bit of a new life that comes with the territory, which will no longer include working nights, weekends, or holidays), I was asked to write a little something for a fabulous paper company's Wednesday website post. If you're in the market for some stationary that's as innovative as your purse collection, check out Rhodia and their classic notepads.

Happy Wednesday!

p.s. many main stream retailers open their fall floor sets today, so stop and browse on your walk home from work this hump day.

Olive it

2010-07-13T21:43:00.004-04:00

With fall fashion only a few furlongs away, its clear that some of the big messages for the season are in the details. As the NY Times reports, a few of the big wigs in the true meaning of the word have parred down, or in Givenchy's case, skipped runway shows altogether (except apparently for Lagerfeld's Chanel show which involved a 265 ton glacier back in March).

While Cathy Horyn reports a new wave of color in the collections, I cant see past an expanse of camel, olive and gray when I review line sheets and design boards for the months ahead. I love a good gray TSE cashmere v-neck as much (if not more) than the next girl, so the abundance of the shade doesn't disappoint me (I'd gladly don the Piazza Sempione number pictured right). But for those wishing for some spark, perhaps they need to shop Dior's couture pieces to find the promised punches of pigment seemingly lacking from the larger retail market (as far as sportswear goes at least). If you're planning a fall safari, you won't have trouble finding the appropriate ensembles, as military and camo are all the rage (again, I don't mind that this is hardly groundbreaking, as some of my very favorite styles are those that have weathered the ebbing tides of trend).

Packing Light

2010-07-06T21:24:00.003-04:00

Despite the fact that 3 semi walk-in closets barely contain my wardrobe and all its components, I am in fact an efficient packer. For an upcoming destination wedding in the Caribbean, where the weather is hot and the 21st century plane guidelines are not, compact is key.

When the invitation reads 'cocktail attire' this usually indicates a jacket and optional tie for men (a concept the originalists, much like Justice Scalia, do not embrace). Women always have it easy, as a dress will never let you down. I plan to spend little time away from the water, so actual outfits number less than 4, and all fit rolled up into a neat cylindrical log tucked into the side compartment of the trusty boat and tote bag. When all is said and done, the Hubs and I managed to squeeze 5 days worth of beach, dinner, wedding and cocktail attire into one large canvas tote, and a small appendage of a carry on for necessities (in case of lost luggage always bring a bathing suit aboard so your vacation will not be a wash out).

Rolling out the LL Bean luggage brings happy rays of honeymoon memories (the last time said bags were deployed, minus the loss of one wedding band 4 days after the vows in the Atlantic Ocean). Interesting that heading down toward the Equator promises to bring relief from the northern heat that wilts hair, and melts thighs into seat cushions like burning birthday candles against cake frosting. Stay cool!

The Short of It

2010-06-29T21:22:00.004-04:00

Everyone has their favorite article of summer clothing. Whether it's your jersey knit dress, your white chinos, or a classic pair of madras shorts, you've surely sported your seasonal best at least a few times since the mercury rose past 70 degrees. A warm weather trend I've always been a fan of is the ankle length pant. (Not to be confused with the capri pant, which doesn't actually look good on anyone and has the affect of turning perfectly average legs into stocky hamhocks.)

Despite my affinity for the cropped trouser, I was confused and slightly bewildered to see Docker's ankle length pants for men while browsing the web for a linen sport jacket for my husband (an upcoming Ritz Carlton wedding in Jamaica certainly calls for linen). While a woman' slim, smooth ankle may look cute exposed under a pair of 26' inseam chambray pants, is a man's thicker, bear-like extremity really attractive? (my best friend Rebecca might have a thing or two to say about womens' ankles be called 'slim' as a generality, but she always likes to argue both sides of the case.) I'm just not sure how I feel about this new trend for the average man.

Whether you prefer to feel the breeze against your ankle bone, or like it covered up with some summer weight cotton, be sure to pull out all your best for the 4th. I'm sure I will pack my madras for a boating trip to Eastern Long Island on my parent's new yacht. Hopefully the hubs won't confuse our plaids.

Train-ing Days

2010-06-23T21:38:00.003-04:00

To be a commuter in the true sense of the word, is to be a warrior of sorts (commuting 4 miles to work, no matter that it takes me 45 minutes to traverse the distance, does not actually count). Setting off each morning for a long, arduous day bettering the world one pair of shoes at a time is a daunting task in and of itself most days. But add to that a crowded train, 90 degrees, 80% humidity, and a gaggle of New York's un-finest, and you have quite a war of attrition.

I may be in the minority in some of my style views, but I just can't understand how a person shoe-horns themselves into a pair of snug, airless denim on a hot summer day. The sausage casing becomes engorged with flesh as the mercury rises, and the sight is painful for both wearer and passersby alike.

After a short 10 minute ride into Manhattan from my office, and a lovely dinner with a college friend at Lugo Cafe, (the only acceptable restaurant near NYC's Penn station, location chosen to ease her commute home to Hoboken and mine to Forest Hills) I had the displeasure of sharing a snug train car home with some disgruntled, disheveled, and dogged Long Islanders. (If that is what suburbia looks like after a 12 hour work day, do not sign me up for life out of the City.) I'm not sure I've seen that much polyester in one place since the time I rented Studio 54 from Blockbuster in the 90's. The odor of cheap take out and the sight of red and white grease soaked paper bags caused the Aperol Spritz to rise in my throat. The train is not only where synthetic fabric and faux leather hand bags go to die, apparently its also a dinner table and fully stocked wet bar rivaling that at a basement fraternity party.

As the woman next to me in a head to toe acrylic turquoise jump suit with black Reeboks audibly munched on her Taco Bell Gordita, I couldn't help but wonder when exactly the generation gap swallowed all sensibilities whole, without a single chew (much like the feasting lady to my left).

Fall Foreward

2010-06-20T15:50:00.003-04:00

Though for most normal people July signals the thick of summer, for fashion people, it rings in the first deliveries of fall (all in-warehouse dates after 6/26 are classified as fall, believe it or not). If you've been shopping lately you've no doubt noticed large sale signs, to clear the way for the fresher fall palette that often doesn't sit cohesively among the summer's citrus hues.

Rather than breaking out the tweed and cashmere, retailers take you into the new season gently, like those initial tip-toe tests of the icy ocean water in early June. Coral and brown is a popular transition combo I've seen around, done in short (but not too short) skirts and silk trimmed tank s for the hot temperatures. Blazers are seasonless, and J.Crew's Ikat number (pictured left) is right on for the in-between. And of course nothing beats a floral Zac Posen dress done in darker tones and cinched with a black belt for easing the conversion into cooler times.

For a peak at whats to come, take a trip down Madison (or to the local mall) and have a look around. As usual, the fashion world is a few steps ahead of the calendar.

Legally Speaking

2010-06-15T21:30:00.003-04:00

Though there are very mixed reviews when it comes to Coach (the once classic leather ware company now turned quasi-designer with the ever popular logo tapestry and a raging arsenal of 'C' configurations) there can be no ambivalence when it comes to my pet peeve: fake bags. On June 8th, the company filed suit naming Klass Fashion ASIM Enterprises as defendants in the Southern District of Texas. The cause of action was the ever popular trademark infringement claim.

I remember when my parents first realized I had outgrown my gap messenger bag days and was ready for something a touch more sophisticated (this was circa 1993, when I was in the 6th grade. My poor parents). A trip to the Coach store ended with a glorious, camel colored, butter soft leather tote, with stamped Coach logo inconspicuously under the top handle. A decade and a half later, and such iconic staples have been replaced by fuchsia, eye catching nylons with flagrant brand identifiers accosting the senses like designer impostor perfume. I'm sure from a business perspective, this was a calculated endeavour to place the brand among the rank and file with premium, luxury houses (had they hired my new company to consult for them, I certainly would not have disagreed with this move. I would, however, have advised against such blatant unoriginality in strategy to compete with the big wigs of bags).

Love them or loathe them, infringement is never the path to dominion. I just miss the days of originality (as in the definition of copyrightable material).

A Day in the Life

2010-06-10T21:54:00.004-04:00

The day began with a few clouds, punctuated with occasional stabs of sunlight. Since it was nearing the end of Shoe Show week, and the office would be nearly empty, I opted for causal olive chinos, flat sandals (from a brand other than the one which employs me), and a white cotton tank topped with a navy linen blend open front cardigan. (Sneakers don't exist in my wardrobe, except for the gym.) The train ran on time, my ticket was never collected, and the fruit stand had a fresh delivery of Red Delicious apples. A fine start to the day.

As the clock struck 1pm, the fashion gods began to pelt me with stones. Though I had run a PTO search before we assigned a certain pseudo-controversial name to a certain shoe weeks ago and come up empty, I had advised against such a move to be safe. Since no one really acknowledges my presence most days, my legal advice went unheeded, and a unfriendly letter from an unhappy lawyer arrived in the mail. Lovely. Next, the showroom visit previously scheduled for Friday at 8am was suddenly moved up to this afternoon at 3pm (yes, picture the scene in Devil Wears Prada where the fall preview is rescheduled with 15 minutes notice, and then Andy dribbles corn chowder onto her blue, lumpy sweater). With 2 hours to finish a days worth of work, an outfit not suited for the buying big wigs of the top department stores, and footwear that would get me fired, I had a lot to accomplish.

The sample closet contained only size 6's and, try as I might, my size 7 foot just wouldn't conform to fit (regardless of how hard I crammed it in). Off to the subway I ran. Unfortunately, the express trains were running local. The store nearest the showroom where I could swap my favorite flats for some company branded wedges didn't have anything in my size that I would remotely consider placing on my foot. My preppy chinos had sagged and wrinkled from the long subway ride and the heat I was producing at rapid rates with the impending deadline approaching. The further away store had something that would work, so out I ran with the new shoes on my feet and the salesperson yelling after me that leaving behind the box made the shoes a final sale (standard in the industry in case you should find yourself in a similar predicament). I skidded into the west side showroom with seconds to spare, proud of myself for arriving (in brand) on time. Too bad the presentations had actually started early (probably for the first time on record). Perhaps I'd be better suited for another career. Maybe something in botany or still life painting.

Summer in Spring

2010-06-06T11:49:00.007-04:00

I'm not sure what exactly happened to spring, those 6-8 weeks between frozen feet and icy sidewalks, and sweltering, city sun pressing down on bare skin like an omelet pan. But it seems summer is upon us in full force, despite what the calendar says. So what does one who must commute to work in the oppressive city heat wear? (Despite the lax dress code in my office, I won't be seen in public wearing dresses that resemble nightgowns or shorts that hardly qualify as underwear. And besides, just because you can wear something, doesn't mean you should.)

The dress, in its many forms, is the single best wardrobe option for sultry, sun-drenched days. Can you tolerate the mere thought of anything structured, with seams and waistbands strangling your skin? No matter your shape or size, there is an office (and fashion) friendly dress out there for you. (Though skimpy straps and plunging necklines seem like ideal options for staying cool, the more skin you have exposed to the sun, the warmer you actually will feel. And not everyone needs to see that much of you anyway.) My favorite destination for vintage charm suitable for any age, Anthropologie, has some irresistible frocks for surviving the summer. When it comes to fabric choice, steer clear of words you can't pronounce (they don't breathe, and will only add to that stench you know and loath on the 4 train). Instead, stick to cotton. Classic black and white, in the tradition of Chanel, is still relevant for the hot months of summer, and Trina Turk does pattern worthy of boarding a plane to St. Barths. Sweet, light and still covered, this punchy smocked dress is a must have, priced at just $98 (machine washable is a nice bonus). Or if you prefer a touch more structure, this shirtdress can go to work, or do weekend duty. A few seasons ago I bought a dress just like this jersey number from the Gap (for $39) and still end up wearing it often, with a navy blazer and heels for work, or flip flops for play. The maxi dress is still a popular choice for a lot of people (who doesn't love anything by DFV?), and even those south of 5'4 can wear one (though a trip to the tailor probably needs to be factored into the cost). I'm not so sure about the long, flowy option in the office, but it has become a summer staple that's weathered fashion's fickle fancy.

Stay cool (and covered) in the heat ahead.

Shoe Full

2010-06-05T15:14:00.004-04:00

As the first full week of June approaches, the shoe gods are aligning themselves for June 2010 FFANY shoe show all over New York City. This entails many hours spent on foot, merchandising shelves upon shelves of shoes, only to have the boss catch one glimpse of it over Blackberry, and order the whole store to be flipped upside down.

Though some people find the exposure effect to have the opposite result, I find that spending upwards of 12 hours a day knee deep in knee high boots and sandals creates a desire to own even more pairs of shoes. (The memory of moving 2 weeks ago, and individually bubble wrapping an inordinate number of shoe boxes should quell this urge, but women's minds are not always machines of logic.) Perhaps its a coping mechanism, along the lines of cognitive dissonance, to crave the goods you dedicate most of your waking hours immersed in.

But regardless of the explanation, the economic predicament that some feel has subsided has not extinguished people's dedication to buying footwear (Monday reports don't lie). Though I sometimes check my math 2 and 3 times over, numbers (unlike people) are easy to read with the right calculations. (News of impending lay offs after more budget cuts in District Attorney Offices City wide make people's spending habits seem even more confounding, but again, logical is not the name of the game.)

Enjoy the best looking shoe shelves you'll see all summer, but buy wisely. You too may have to fit them all in a moving box one day if you decide to cross the river to save some dough.

Memorial Whites

2010-05-27T21:47:00.004-04:00

As the holiday weekend approaches, and prepsters and hispters alike reach for the white, I am reminded of the many fashionites still adhering to the archaic rules which relegate the neutral to the back of the closet for 75% of the year. Besides the total misconception about the relevancy of an entire color (despite what my first boss believes, neutrals are color too), this antiquated idea of saving white for the 12 weeks between summer holidays is tantamount to using good china only for company.

Many of life's greatest pleasures need to be indulged in daily. Now that we are settled in a new apartment (exactly 3 times the size of both apartments I've lived in during my 6 post-college years), I am trying to heed my own advice. I wore my white jeans to work this week, and unpacked the Wedgewood gifted to us 9 months ago at my bridal shower. Frozen Lean Cuisine after a 12 hour work day just tastes better eaten off of fine white china rimmed with delicate platinum. Similarly, a difficult day at the office (where even the customer service people at Pottery Barn who cant schedule your couch delivery are giving you grief) is eased by an outfit that makes you comfortable and stylish enough that, when your boss (who wears a lot of Prada) calls you in, your ensemble distracts her from the case of shoes you accidentally had overnighted to Florida instead of California.

Spend your weekend (and extra day off if you, unlike me, actually have one) doing something that makes you happy, wearing something that makes you smile. Break out the madras, the white, the Wedgwood. And the leggings can be packed away for now (or forever, preferably. Spandex is nobody's friend in humidity).

Filling in the Gap

2010-05-19T21:32:00.005-04:00

A friend recently forwarded me this article on the perpetual folly that is the Gap. He, like me, was once an ally of the struggling chain, turning to the stalwart for all his cotton t-shirt needs. But despite the talent at its helm, and a decent denim collection this past fall, the brand cannot seem to get out of its own way.

The downward trend (in terms of both style and stock) is the culmination of several factors, all slowly sucking the life out of the American chain. When people think of the brand, the classic boy-next-door, adorned in plaid and khaki with a hooded sweatshirt for good measure, comes to mind. Rumple his hair, add a distressed messenger bag, and you have the window display for the past decade. But in an era where premium denim reigns supreme, and jean brands are as pricey as their names are pompous (Citizens of Humanity? Seven for All Mankind? Not all mankind can spend $300 on denim, nor does all of humanity really shop at Bloomingdales) the Gap has fallen into a rut.

And because it is the Gap, and not Banana Republic, is anyone willing to spend more than $58 on a cotton sweater? If you, like many, have found your beloved $10 white t misshapen and not fit for sleeping after a few washes, you're not alone. The catch 22 of sorts is trying to build a collection within a budget, and make it appear to exude quality, without actually upping production costs (Industry standard is a mark up, or profit margin, of about 72%-75%). You cant spend more making the clothes without raising retail, yet you can't raise retail without changing attitudes so that shoppers will shell out the extra $10-$20. So what is to be done? Though news of any retailer facing impending doom is saddening for me, there is a certain survival of the fittest and market competition at the heart of capitalism that I can't fight. While I hope to see Patrick Robinson live up to his infinite potential, I'd also settle for some quality cotton t's circa 1995.

Dressing for the Ages

2010-05-16T20:24:00.003-04:00

This weekend I attended my hubby's 10 year high school reunion at a ritzy Connecticut all boys boarding school with picturesque views and vineyard vines galore. Of course the hubs was no help when I asked what to pack for the Saturday evening cocktail reception and sit down dinner, so I packed my trusty black dress as well as a brighter, preppier option that ended up being the chosen one for the evening. (The 4 inch Michael Kors, however, proved an ill advised decision when faced with cobblestone.)

The festivities were attended by multiple generations, all celebrating a variety of reunion milestones. But the more salt than pepper hair and weathered smile lines were not the giveaway as to exactly which anniversary each group was celebrating. Rather it was the self-assigned dress codes that earmarked the decades.

A herd of long haired, rambunctious guys in wrinkled Nantucket reds, denim and Birkenstocks (which I didn't know were even still around) screamed class of '05 through swigs of bottled Bud Light. The class of '00 was slightly less rumpled, but ties and closed toe shoes were still scarce. The largest bunch of graduates were decked in full suits, ray bans, and accompanied by frosted blonde women with high neck lines, low heels, and a plethora of pashminas. The generation gap once you jump beyond the year 2000 is more vast than any other such valley. Is it purely age, or the style wisdom that comes with experience that causes men to replace Birkenstocks with Brooks Brothers? (I have to admit to owning a pair in college, but they have long since been donated, or burned, whichever got them out of my closet faster.) Though I am a New Yorker, I feel at home among the preppy, and can't help but smile at Nantucket red and madras (even in early May). I just wish the generations would get on the same page when it comes to sandals and cocktails- the two should not be in the same room (and yes, for this purpose, Bud Light is a cocktail).

Shopping-Esprit

2010-05-13T18:34:00.005-04:00

From my semester abroad in Australia, I know the potential of the often overlooked stateside brand, Esprit. After a wave of notoriety in the 90's the retailer seemed to have fallen asleep at the wheel. But the brand that appears quaint and homey (and homely?) with its summer dresses and cotton tops has 800 stores and is sold in 14,000 wholesale locations worldwide (and also licenses to several 3rd party vendors, which also interests me professionally). A 25% off dress event tugged my sleeve as I passed by the flat iron location, and was worth the detour.

Marie Claire describes Esprit's aesthetic as "perennial schoolgirl" and they're not wrong in their assertion. A new collection backed by model Daisy Lowe has promise for carving a touch of edge into the otherwise sweet brand. The edc line features leather, cropped vests, and an occasional stud along a seam. And the price is right in this still fragile economic abyss, with denim ranging from $59-$89, and outerwear hovering in the low $100 territory. In the spirit of not judging a book by its cover, don't be turned off by the junior-esqe feel to the website, take a stroll through one of the various Manhattan locations and have a look for yourself. (This jersey drape cardigan is a much more wallet friendly alternative to the pricier American Apparel varieties.)

Happy shopping

Karmic Style

2010-05-10T19:38:00.003-04:00

Watching many hours of reality TV shows can sometimes rub off on us in unexpected ways. No matter what the Housewives (of New York, New Jersey, or any city in between) spend their ample time and funds on, it's never a good idea to emulate. It's like the thin, murky line between knock off and inspiration- take one step too far and you've become a clique.

Over the weekend, I got an email from a fan that turned a stressful day of packing into a sublime day of productivity. Not wanting to copy my fan's gesture with a similarly flattering email to a blog author I adore, I instead thought of another method of doing a good deed that might propel the spirit forward. With an impending move less than 2 weeks away, we decided to donate all of our furniture and made endless calls to arrange the feat. (You would be surprised how many thrift shops and organizations are not that happy to receive an apartment full of gently used furnishings. After 6 phone calls and declined offers, I was loosing my charitable spirit.) I then ransacked my closet for all wearable items that were 'interview appropriate' and handed them over to the Dress for Success effort at my office. (Buying a case of dog food and granola bars for the homeless man and his pet I pass on the way to work everyday doesn't count since that was pre-blog fan email, and therefore not in the new momentum of this idea. But that made me happy, which in turn reminded me of the episode of Friends where Phoebe proves all good deeds are inherently selfish. Which is true, no?)

Contrary to what I may think, telling someone that their pants are a size too small or that their white t-shirt with yellow armpit stains isn't really a good choice to impress the new boss doesn't count as a 'good deed', no matter how noble your intentions. I'm not sure I can ever turn off the voice that screams when I see leggings in the office, or stop the eyes that roll when I pass a faux Louis Vuitton bag with its telltale orange glued seams. But in an effort not to turn into the catty women I am fascinated by watching on Bravo, I shall try. (Luckily there won't be any cameras following me anytime soon to capture my progress, or lack thereof.)

2010-05-07T11:11:00.003-04:00

After a particularly gut wrenching week during which I've reconsidered my chosen career, pictures of pretty things can do wonders for the spirit. I'm not a proponent of shopping to fill a void, or spending money to save your sanity, but there are times when a little retail therapy is a necessary prescription (so I told myself on the way home from work around 10pm last night when I was happy to find a few stores still open on 34th street, and managed to find a few moderately priced spring tops that eased my pain).

This month's Anthropologie catalog takes you back in time to an era when women dressed up to do the laundry and walk the dog. (There are times I think perhaps I could be happy leaving the work force and being a housewife, donning day dresses and cooking all afternoon, or moving to Vermont and making cheddar. But then my mother reminds me I'm lactose intolerant, and tells me I would last five minutes being home all day, and she is right about both.) This patchwork inspired catmint dress is a friendly nod to a simpler time. A friend recently mentioned being very into Free People lately, which reminded me of the brand's classic vintage spin and fresh prints for spring. Their website feels like the trip I took upstate to the Blue Grass Festival with my college friends the summer after graduation (to which I could have worn this tunic and fit in smashingly). A cowboy hat and calico dress can brghten anyone's day.

Happy shopping, and happier times for the weekend.

Dressing Down=Downhill

2010-05-04T19:22:00.005-04:00

A prime example of practicing what you preach occurred this week. After serving as maid of honor (technically 'matron, of honor' but that just sounds old) all weekend for my wonderful friend out east, I arrived home Sunday night thoroughly exhausted from 3 days of fun. When Monday morning rolled around (which, in retail, require being at my desk by 7:30 am) I had little energy for getting dressed. A peak outside revealed a day as gray as my mood, and as dark as my apartment with a still fast sleep husband. I settled on a casual oxford, slouchy boyfriend jeans and boat shoes, an ensemble that did not make me feel happy or put together for a Monday in the least. The muggy humidity from Sunday's heat wave hung in the air like dirty laundry and hit me in the face as I exited my apartment.

From there the day went downhill quickly. The train was 10 minutes late, and then ran at a physically painful speed which I could have out ran on foot, in stilettos. The main door to my office building was locked with a metal gate (a sure sign that it's too early to be there, no?) and I had to buzz the warehouse stock men to let me in through the truck entrance. My co-worker called in sick, and I had the pleasure of running twice the number of Monday reports. After compiling said reports frantically for the 10 am morning meeting, said meeting was canceled. When lunch time rolled around and I had already put in a 7 hour day, I discovered the Luna Bar I had banked on eating had been snatched by a coworker on Friday while I was out east for my friend's rehearsal. 6:00 mercifully arrived, at which time I bolted from the building and headed for the train. The day's reckoning was not yet complete as a gigantic body of water disguised as a shallow puddle swallowed the lower half of my leg on the corner adjacent from the train.

Today, though my alarm failed to go off and I thus slept through my morning workout, I was determined to stop another bad day in its tracks. I took the time to choose a skirt, sandals, silk tank and belt that put the spring back in my step (enough to avoid the lingering puddles). The ensemble elevated my mood and prevented an encore to Monday. Behold the power of the outfit.

Legally Speaking

2010-04-27T21:03:00.004-04:00

Though some people have tagged trademark infringement suits as the 'ambulance chasing' equivalent in IP law, I can't quite tire of brands picking up their daggers and protecting their fortresses head on.

On March 26th, Levi sued Evisu International in the Northern district of California for trademark infringement. The jury will be out on this one for a while no doubt, but in the mean time, the denim veteran has made its point.

Levi is often credited with being among the original pioneers of the denim frontier, offering its 501's for under $50. In a culture that craves immoderately priced jeans (and wretched 'jeggings') Levi sometimes gets lost in the mire. The unmistakable dipping 'V' that signifies a pair of the brand's pride and joy has never lost its strength (in both the fashion and legal sense) even amongst fierce competition on backsides everywhere. (I personally find the rear pocket to be the single most important element in a pair of jeans. A plain pocket is always a safe choice when in doubt.)

But the question of protectable trademark falls to more than just strength of mark, and the 7 other Polaroid factors ( 287 F.2d 492 (2nd Cir. 1961)) must also weight in Levi's favor to score a win for the brand. Time will tell.

What's the Allure?

2010-04-23T21:31:00.004-04:00

When you see a pair of python Jimmy Choo sandals in the window of Saks as you pass by after work, and your heart leaps into your cheek, do you ever stop to think why exactly you have this visceral reaction? Harper's May issue features an interesting (although chauvinistic) article written by the husband of a socialite fashionista, expounding on the pros and cons of women's dressing, and examining just what exactly it is that makes an outfit 'likable'.

I agree with a few of Christopher Brooks' points (wedding dresses don't do women any favors) but, as any good lawyer, I strongly object to others (painted nails and flats should be eliminated for their lack of flattery). The core of his commentary centers on defining the tangible quality that causes us to lust after a fashion item. For some I imagine it is fit, flattering one's shape, or attracting possible mates (for just how long correlates inversely with the length of the chosen hemline). But it is nevertheless a contemplative inspection, and inspired me to search inside for my motivation as a peak inside the psychology that drives the multi billion dollar industry in which I work.

I rarely pick something because I think someone else, including my husband, will like it. In fact, I've read that men find the biggest trends in women's fashion to be utterly ridiculous (oversize sunglasses, harem pants, neon). Something that fits well is always nice, but not enough to pull my wallet from the bottom of my bag. Comfort? Also a bonus but doesn't seal the deal. Color and pattern often leap from the rack and snatch my attention, but at the end of the day, I usually end up with gray, khaki and ivory for spring. So what then? Perhaps the image of slipping the silk sleeveless top over my head and looking instantly fresh and new. Would the same allure still hold 4 weeks later once the top is no longer 'new' and instead hangs among its companions in the closet?

This visual exercise of placing the object in my wardrobe and fast forwarding a month has saved me several purchases this past week alone (though it did not spare the 5 new pairs of shoes I carted home from work today). In the interest of buying only what you truly love, practice this game and take home those pieces that will make you just as happy in August as they do in early May. And do not worry what the boys will think, they'll like anything that you look happy wearing (with the exception of Harem pants. They don't look good on anyone.)

Green Thumb

2010-04-19T19:36:00.007-04:00

The last time I can remember wearing a Laura Ashley dress was in the 7th grade. My mom took me to the Americana (aka the miracle mile) in Manhasset where she spent an inordinate amount of money on a pastel, floral frock that I had to have. The last decade shunned such patterns, which were more akin to bedding than couture. But like all things fashion, the tides have turned and washed up remnants of the early 90's by way of botanical, garden-like dresses for spring (Groundbreaking, I know. But pretty nonetheless.)

The Annual Macy's Flower Show (which is the only bright part of my walk to the west side of Manhattan every morning to catch the train) seems even more apropos than usual this year. Marc Jacobs has put his vintage charm on the trend with this sweet yet salty dress, just modern enough for those who balk at my former mention of Laura Ashley. (If you balk at Laura, I imagine you'd gag over Lilly Pulitzer. I will skip over the uber-preppy designer and request my friends who pack their weekend Lily in their Vera Bradley keep a safe distance.)

A cousin to floral numbers, calico is also gracing retail racks everywhere. Not just for Raggedy Ann, calico is a sweet nod to the country (think of when Carrie helped Aidan with his 'country cabin' in Suffern, New York. She baked a pie wearing a plaid shirt and silver Manolos, and then topped the weekend off with some overalls and green Hunters). If you can't quite pull off flannel and stilettos, no one does middle market vintage better than Anthropologie. (This patchwork smock is just another example of their market corner.)

Speaking of apple pie, a 13 hour work day certainly puts me in the mood for dessert.

Preppy Ranks

2010-04-15T19:48:00.004-04:00

A smile was added to my usual 12 minutes of 'lunch' spent cramming a Luna Bar down my throat while using my free hand to tab down a 151 page best seller report. A fellow sorority sister and good friend of mine from college forwarded me a link to the Huffington Post's updated Preppiest colleges list. After scrolling down a ways (past a myriad of snarky comments on the subject) I instantly recognized the stone edifice of Hascall Hall and the winding quad path that is Colgate, and felt pangs of nostalgia for my mint green polo and extra large, red Solo cup brimming with keg beer.

Though the mere waft of keg beer now makes my throat muscles clench, the memory is one that still carries with it a certain amount of tangible joy not easily matched by the working world. While I love the remnants of my college years (a popped collar, Nantucket red pants for men, Vineyard Vines' fleece vests), I draw the line at Vera Bradley tote bags. They are better suited for toting one's knitting needles to and from the bridge game than for carrying your accessories around the city all day. The emergence of floral, quilted carryalls in a vast array of shapes and sizes gives preppy a bad name and should be cast aside in favor of buttery soft leather totes instead. (I apologize to my many friends who love these bags and have entire coordinating luggage sets. Please, carry what makes you happy. Just don't make me hold it for you when we're out and you need to use the bathroom.)

Luckily for me (and all those who appreciate a good pair of oxfords and a navy, gold-button blazer) the prepster scene has mingled and danced with the hipster scene to birth a new wave of urban-dandy that appeals to a larger pool of coeds. (Open any May fashion magazine for an example of the mainstreaming undercurrent that has swept through preppy islands.) Alternative brands that cater to Lower East Side hip, like Steven, are churning out new lines that embrace the classic tenants of east coast dressing. These loafers are flying off the shelves on Bleecker Street, and Christopher Street's Rag and Bone is decidedly taking cues from the movement.

Whether you love or loathe it, stand up and take notice of springs preppy awakening.

All Hats on Deck

2010-04-11T16:57:00.003-04:00

What better way to spend a sunny Saturday in early spring than by grabbing your girlfriends, popping your collar, slipping on your yellow Sperry's and heading to Long Island's North Fork with your very own wine glass in tow? (Perhaps the popped collar and boat shoes were my nod to college days an at east coast liberal arts school, but nevertheless, you get the point.)

Pindar Vineyards was the first stop on our thirsty romp out east. As if several middle aged men knee deep in a carafe of 1995 Cabernet before noon was not entertaining enough, in walked a gaggle of 20-something girls decked out in their Kentucky Derby finest. Had it been mid-August, and not early April, the white linen dresses and enormous straw hats might have been apropos. But on a 58 degree day, at 10:45 in the morning, the get up was more akin to costume than couture (assuming that they had been going for the latter). I love a straw hat as much as the next girl, but there is a time and a place for everything (the Hamptons in July? Spring break down south? A Sunday in Central Park?) Perhaps the hat-herd began their wine tour before sunrise, and the warmth from the '97 Pinot Noir eviscerated any need for actual clothing (and all judgment as well). Never a dull fashion moment!

The Dangers of Inactivity

2010-04-06T20:09:00.005-04:00

Not that anybody could mistake a large, plastic, tacky Guess 'G' for the no less ostentatious, yet much pricier Gucci tapestry, but the latter wasn't taking any chances. Originally filed in May of 2009, Gucci sued Guess for trademark infringement (namely for use of green and red stripes with interlocking 'G' pattern strikingly reminiscent of the Italian veteran's logo).

For all of us who breathed an enormous sigh of relief (and shed some tears of joy) when news of passing the bar trickled into our in-boxes last fall, we know the physical agony it cost to attain that precious 'Esq' suffix. Why any lawyer would chose 'inactive' status with the State Bar to save a few bucks is beyond me, but according to WWD, Gucci's in-house counsel must have spent all his paychecks on Italian leather goods and had nothing left over for Bar dues. Gucci's main man, Jonathan Moss, had reportedly been in 'inactive' status since 1996, and was hired by Gucci in 2002 without changing his membership capacity. (I better be sure to attend all those annually required CLE classes in a timely fashion to avoid a similarly embarrassing situation, should I ever become a famous lawyer.) Gucci fired the inactive lawyer, so perhaps now he will seek to pay those lapsed dues and regain employment fighting fashion crime, for the good of purses everywhere. I hope he saved all his CLE certificates of attendance, he'd be a prime candidate for audit.

You've Got Male

2010-04-02T21:59:00.004-04:00

Now that the March lion has officially receded and pedicured toes can grace the tepid air, the much anticipated closet flip can get underway. But what's to come of the tweed-tailored menswear that bulked up fall wardrobes? Happily for those of us who love to pay homage to Yves Saint Laurent, spring carries the androgynous torch forward.

Though not typically a huge fan of the color pink (but in love with the 80's flick Pretty in Pink, and always thrilled to pieces when I catch it on ABC Family), my eyes fell immediately on these oxfords updated for spring in the fresh bubble gum hue. If you cant quite take the step into the uber preppy oxfords, these mens-inspired spectator pumps get the point across while retaining their femininity. Double breasted blazers in lighter weights and summer-appropriate linen are everywhere. And Vests are not just for stuffy trial lawyers who want to conceal their bellies while leaning over their podium in the courtoom. They can add definition to a bohemian dress or a crispy, classic white oxford.

There's also nothing subtle about spring's accessories. Large, heavy, men's watches fit nicely into the mix (I already asked my Husband to borrow his cobalt-faced Rolex, but he just looks confused and reminds me its a 'man's watch'). This Michael Kors piece is a great price point for such a statement watch if your male companion also won't hand over his timepiece.

Enjoy the holiday weekend, and try a little pink with your menswear (even if its just a Cadbury Egg).

Legally Speaking

2010-03-28T20:02:00.006-04:00

Even if your ability to spot at fake is not quite on par with my sixth sense, many can recognize the prevalent, shamefully obvious fakes adorned with cheap, tacky plaid that try to pass themselves off as Burberry. And for all those low budget retailers who assuage their guilt with the justifications that trademark infringement is hard to prove and even harder to win, January brought some news sure to ruffle their parroting feathers.

While it is not about the money, Burberry was awarded a nice $1.5 million in its suit against Designer Imports, Inc. this past Januray (as originally reported by WWD) after alleging the retailer sold counterfeit goods. The US District Court for the Southern District of New York (SDNY) found in favor of the English design veteran and awarded them statutory damages based largely on the distinctive trade dress that Burberry has established (just ask any girl over the age of 15 living in New York for proof that their Nova Check is in fact 'distinctive' within the legal sense). This is a big win for fashion originalists, who, like Justice Scalia and the Constitution, believe contemporary interpretation or adjustment for modern convention is inappropriate when evaluating the law as it was conceived.

Burberry is getting busy. On March 3rd they sued TJX Co (who operates TJ Maxx, Marshalls, and HomeGoods) for selling knock-offs in a variety of apparel-related categories. As such suits gain momentum, expect more 3rd party defendants (real estate lessors, production counterparts) to be named. I'd take it to the streets and begin making citizen arrests of those I see so blatantly and wantonly flaunting their faux bags with the audacity bred by sheer ignorance. (Have you seen FX's new series Justified? I'd be the US Marshall who gets reprimanded for over zealousness on the job.) Perhaps you will take a more critical eye to your coworker's new tote, or that woman's suspicious carryall on the train tomorrow morning.

The Perfect Skins

2010-03-26T22:44:00.006-04:00

Besides the rough and tough biker chick often conjured up by the mere mention of the leather jacket, there is a softer side to the new staple. Though I admittedly have a hard time letting go in general, this spring, the new object of my desire has been a shale grey cropped leather jacket. (There is much debate about the proper spelling of the word 'grey' at work. I argue often with others about this very topic, and while it might seem pointless, I had to get to the bottom of it. If you have too much time on your hands, or also work in the fashion world where color reigns supreme, here is an interesting explanation of the 2 variations on the proper spelling of the color.) Either way you slice it, grey is an omnipresent tone for spring 2010 when black can be harsh, and brown feels too fall. (Please don't wear black leather boots past April 1st, regardless of your affinity for American Chopper or LA Ink).

After a long, exhausting, erratic week of work (one day, for example, began at 6:30am with a $50 car ride to the Queens Mall, did you know the mall doors are open at that hour? I surely did not) I came home ready for a glass of Trader Joe Cabernet and a frozen Fresh Direct pizza. To my surprise, there was a grey and cream colored gift bag with coordinating silver tissue on the table waiting for me. Confused at not only the aesthetic composure of the present, but its very presence in my apartment, I looked to my husband for an explanation (though he is the one who practices more traditional law in the household, he is always home before me). He smiled and urged me to open the treasure. To my delight, the leather jacket lay inside like an unearthed gem waiting to be harvested. I proceeded to wear the supple ectoderm around for the rest of the evening. Lets hope the weather is conducive to my new bounty this weekend.

Rags, Bones, and Outsiders

2010-03-22T19:18:00.004-04:00

Every now and then even the primmest, preppiest of folks crave a little dash of edge to their wardrobe. Maybe its the electricity in the air sparked by unseasonably warm days, or the early morning darkness that lingers slightly too long post day light savings, but whatever the cause, I too feel the rocker itch creeping down my back.

Two brands leap to mind when hunting for the perfect mix of masculine, rocker, ready to wear glam: Boy. by Band of Outsiders, and Rag & Bone. Since the founding of Rag & Bone in 2002, designers Marcus Wainwright and David Neville have taken their mission to "make clothes that they and their friends would love to wear every day" right to the bank. Rag & Bone was a 2006 CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund award finalist, and won the prestigious Swarovski Award for emerging talent in menswear in 2007. Their edgy offerings are available at a full array of locations throughout the city. I love the tuxedo jacket pictured at left, and this corset cocktail dress available at Barney's Co-op.

Scott Sternberg of Boy. by Band of Outsiders throws plaids, textures, leathers and denim into the cauldron and out emerges downtown chic pieces that go from the Gallery opening to a fabulous loft party where you might hope to be caught in the background shot of an episode of the City or Kell on Earth. (This striped skirt evokes the nautical bliss of spring without falling overboard into the cliche that other seafaring garb can often drown in.) Their website is reminiscent of an ironic Marc Jacobs Vogue ad, and offers a glimpse into the playful minds of the design genius at the helm of the brand. Enjoy a little edge in your morning coffee.

Lyons (and Tigers, and Other Animal Prints)

2010-03-18T21:08:00.004-04:00

In the virtual age where hard copies have become hard to come by, I relish the days when I come home to find a J.Crew catalogue nestled all snug in my mailbox like a weary traveler curled up on the couch. I can thank the uber-talented Jenna Lyons for taking my trusty middle school go-to for wooly sweaters and cords from elementary, to fashion superlative.

The beginning of each look book underscores 'Jenna's Picks' where the Creative Director expounds on what you absolutely must have for the upcoming season. I rarely disagree with her selections (though, unfortunately, 2 new lawyers living in a studio apartment in Manhattan cannot readily dash out to buy all the items she so seductively recommends). The Wall Street Journal reported this past fall that Lyons was paid $1 million as a bonus for escorting the retailer to super-stardom in middle market merchant land. In banker town, this is a paltry sum that wilts next to 8 figure bounties. Yet in the retail kingdom (circa the economic havoc of 2009 and amidst a landslide of layoffs) $1 million is rather hefty.

This month's catalogue featured real people decked in J.Crew's decadent spring looks with brief descriptions of their professions. The free clothes alone would be sufficient motivation for me to participate (on the occasion that they'd want an average New York City gal with a shopping affliction and a penchant for prep in their pages). Shop the collection now and get 20% off all dresses! (Anyone else have a plethora of showers, rehearsal dinners and weddings to attend this spring?)

Buy Outs

2010-03-16T19:31:00.003-04:00

Big news in the biz this week that Phillips-Van Heusen bought Tommy Hilfiger for a modest $3 Billion. The big buy is expected to burgeon Hilfiger's presence in the market, both at home and abroad. My very first internship was at Tommy Hilfiger in midtown, stuffing endless gift bags with luscious Tommy Girl and other goodies for a PR event. (I was hooked on fashion from my first paper cut.)

PVH is no stranger to acquiring American brands (IZOD, Bass, Calvin Klein, Arrow, to name a few). Though Ralph Lauren has become the synonym for classic, preppy American style, Tommy deserves his own share of the genre. (We can forgive and forget when it comes to the terrible reality show featuring Mr. Hilfiger's daughter, called Rich Girls, where she paraded into his design studio and, to the horror of the onlooking design staff, proceeded to make adjustments to their work with her abundance of non existence skill and experience.) Hilfiger's crisp, clean, yacht worthy pieces make you want to call in sick in favor of a waspy polo match (or perhaps a college frat style golf party). The fashion foodies can look forward to an expansive array of sailor stripes and cotton cables in the seasons ahead.

A Walk on the Wild Side

2010-03-12T20:12:00.007-05:00

Have you ever visited the Queens Mall at 5pm on a Friday? If you want to feel miles and miles from the preppy Upper East Side, or far removed from banker-ville downtown, I suggest a trek on the R train to the Woodhaven stop. If, however, you are easily scared by crowds of teenage hooligans, or volumes of polyester make your skin itch on sight, I don't recommend the venture.

Sent by my office deeper into the unknown land that is Queens, I needed a subway map to figure out how exactly I was to get from the train to the mystical urban mall. Crossing Queens Boulevard was taking my life in my hands, as was pushing through the angry line of hungry pedestrians waiting outside of the corner McDonald's to reach the mall entrance. (Had I known I was going to be commissioned to Elmhurst this afternoon I might not have gone with my flaming red Burberry rain coat and oversize Prada bag, and opted instead for a less ostentatious khaki trench and low key canvas tote. But you live and learn.) Once inside the labyrinth, I felt as I did the very first time my mom let me go to the Roosevelt Field Mall alone- terrified, lost, and utterly bewildered. I made my way down the first corridor with trepidation, first spotting a G+G (which I thought had gone out of business after the movie Clueless had faded into the archives), then a Claire's (home to $5 jewelery and ever popular with the teeny bopper generation I was once a part of), and next a Wild Pair (again, I had no idea the store was still in existence).

Just as I was getting my bearings and had stopped staring at the pink pleather shoes on display in the window I passed, a gaggle of no less than 15 teens dressed in micro-sized skirts and tops that might be illegal in some areas of the county nearly knocked me down as they paraded by. I took refuge in the first store front I could find, which happened to be a Victoria's Secret. This might have been an acceptable place to hide out for a few, but unfortunately the 14 year old renegades had already infiltrated the lingerie shop. Awkward looking, tangibly uncomfortable boys that looked years younger than their female companions fidgeted anxiously while their girlfriends held up underwear with pictures of dogs and 'PINK' slogans splashed across the butt. Their pimply faces and sweaty cheeks made me feel dirty, so I had to leave just as quickly as I had darted in.

About ready to give up on my competitive shopping trip and go back to work admitting defeat, I saw an illuminated image of a woman frolicking in a field dressed in telltale khaki and pink. The sight of the linen blend blazer beckoned to me like a preppy hand rescuing me from the bowels of the urban jungle. Never had I been so happy to see a Banana Republic before. I headed straight for the sanctuary, hoping it wouldn't disappear like a taunting desert mirage before I reached safety. I floated in and was instantly soothed by the trouser-donning salesman, who complimented my bag. Retail is not for the faint of heart.

Building Blocks

2010-03-10T20:03:00.008-05:00

At the end of a long, miserable day filled with flared tempers, angry bosses, bossy subordinates, and aesthetically assaulting wardrobes, your dwelling should greet you with calm, peace, and the emotional stability that is so markedly lacking elsewhere. Cool tones like white, dabbed with shots of warmth can envelop an entire space in a sublime cocoon and melt away the scuff marks from the last 12 hours.

With an approaching move, and an online shopping cart at Potterybarn.com bursting with delicious new furniture, I can hardly contain myself. As with most things, I feel there are no true rules to decorating, other than pleasing yourself (and anyone you happen to be sharing your new space with). Start with something you can't live without and build a room around it (a paint color, a black and white vintage print, your adorable spouse). I predictably fell in love with a white-washed wooden dresser and a silk, pewter Donna Karan bedding set. All that's missing is the perfect Nantucket cottage to nestle the new finds into. The dreams are what get you out of bed in the morning to face another day, right?

Day to Night, and then the next night too

2010-03-07T18:07:00.003-05:00

When getting dressed for work on Fridays, many of us require an outfit that will multitask from the office into an evening out. Since I work in a fashion forward environment, this is usually pretty easy for me to accomplish. This past Friday with a friend's birthday party after work, I faced a stylist's version of writer's block. I stared at my clothing for an inordinate amount of time (through 3 separate rounds of my husband asking me what exactly I was doing in the closet) and could not find anything I wanted to wear.

Though my shelves and hangers are home to easily over $20,000 worth of choices, the outfit I landed on centered around a seasonless wardrobe staple: the $8 slouchy cotton V-neck T-shirt from H&M. I own approximately 8 of these T-shirts in a variety of colors, and always seem to go for the white or heather gray (of which I have at least 2 per color). Decked in my trusty T, a multi-strand crystal necklace and black blazer, I was ready to go to work and then play.

By time Saturday evening rolled around, I faced an identical fashion impasse. Dinner with friends was at a restaurant more akin to a frat party than a New York City dining experience, and the venue afterwards had a similarly surly vibe. My gaze landed again on the shelf of H&M V-necks, and I found myself pulling out the second gray T (with its twin in the hamper from a full day of work and a brimming night out afterwards Friday). To switch things up I went with a single strand of J.Crew baubles, different jeans and heels as opposed to boots. (My husband of course didn't notice the repeat, but I brought it to his attention, expecting him to be proud of how practical I was being. Instead he was more excited about ordering pulled pork and drinking from a fish bowl to comment on my thrifty togs.)

A few of my favorite cotton T's with just the right 'slouch' and the perfectly scooped 'V' are any offered by Madewell, this one from American Apparel, this T from the Gap, and this option from Jcrew. (Never spend $50+ on a cotton T regardless of who makes it, because at the end of the day, it's just cotton, the armpits will eventully turn yellow, and the dryer will inevitably mangle the fit.) Don't underestimate the power of the V-neck!

Heavy Footing

2010-03-04T19:43:00.004-05:00

My affinity for the 90's extends as far as Greenday, and perhaps the occasional plaid mini skirt, but no further. I am slightly perplexed by the reemergence of a style I thought was surely left in a heap among the archived rubble of the prior decade. But you can hardly open a clothing catalogue or flip through a spring fashion magazine without a pair of clogs staring you in face.

They may be dolled up a bit with some bling, and some have gotten a tapered nose job for a sleeker silhouette, but at the core, they are all still clogs, circa 1990. Elle, Harpers, and Lucky may rave about their comeback and egg readers to run out and snag a pair before they are all sold out in the ever popular size 6, but I'm not rushing anywhere. I tried on a pair at work to see if perhaps the addition of a foot to the empty shell would bring a certain life and style to the article, but to no avail. This wouldn't be the first trend I can't get on board with (I refuse to wear underwear as outerwear, I still do not own a pair of actual leggings, and don't get me started on denim leggings, or 'jeggings', as Kelly Cutrone called them last week).

If you, unlike me, are only too happy to slip your toes into a piece of the past, there are a plethora of clunky, amped up versions for Spring. Jessica Simpson (appropriately, speaking of remnants of early decades,) has a selection, as do Steve Madden, Cole Haan, and Nine West. I'll stick to peep toes and stacked heel sandals when the warm winds whirl.

American Dreams

2010-03-01T19:54:00.005-05:00

Is there anything more intimately or profoundly American than a navy blue Ralph Lauren shawl collar cardigan? The rich, plush sweater makes me want to quit my job and take up figure skating again. The triumphant athletes donning America's finest designer was the icing on the Olympic cake for me.

Though it may seem simple, the choice of Olympic gear says much about the country's culture. (The Canadian sweater, for example, complete with embroidered moose, was too reminiscent of the sweater vest my friend's mother in law gave her for her birthday in college for my taste, yet very 'Canadian'). The selection of Ralph for the USA is a way of wearing the country's heart on its sleeve. Ralph Lauren is the epitome of of preppy, cool, casual, chic- exactly how the rest of the fashion world views the US. Not taking ourselves too seriously (France? Ehem), yet excelling in the most difficult of winter sports and fashions.

While I appreciated the patriotism radiating from every country's athletes, there was no finer display of the encapsulation of Americana than those blue cardigans.

Vintage Kicks

2010-02-27T16:15:00.006-05:00

I'm not sure what it is about February that makes me feel nostalgic, but I've been on a big retro kick lately. I'm looking all over for a tiny glass bottle of Coke (I used to beg my parents to take the empty ones home from restaurants for me when I was little), I'd love a piece of rock candy from the Sweet Shop in Northport, Long Island, and I desperately want a pair of plain white Keds, circa 1985. I even got out my old, dusty CD book and uploaded Greenday's Dookie to my iPod last night (my very first CD ever purchased, which was in 1994).

The editors of Lucky must have felt my pangs for the past, because they featured a piece on the origin of the shirt dress, another one of my favorite oldies. (Ann Taylor, founded in 1954, began with a simple shirt dress, named the 'Ann Taylor' and the rest is history.) A photograph of Brigitte Bardot donning a timeless khaki shirt dress from 1956 could have easily been taken in 2009. When I watch Mad Men (which I don't even like, but continue to watch for the inspiring fashions of the decade) I get the urge to throw out all my clothes and start from scratch at Kate Spade and Anthrolopolgie. My friend even got a new hair cut this weekend after being inspired by Zooey Deschanel, whose 1950's pinup aesthetic embodies the vibe I'm craving worse than a chocolate bar right now. A crisp, starchy, freshly pressed shirt dress would certainly make Monday morning less depressing for me (although my college roomie who used to do all my ironing is in Scotland and I still never learned how to do it myself).

Polka dots, cinched waists, ruffles and flowers make the falling snow and accumulating slush slightly more palatable at the moment, no?