total: 5 comments

1.  comments about: Billion Dollar Babes Comes to S.F.!

Okay, are you ready for this? I went to this sale on Saturday and found THE item of a lifetime. A Vivienne Westwood cotton lawn plaid dress. I can't do it justice just by describing it so I'll probably have to have a photoshoot so you all can get the idea.

2.  comments about: Love Heals Jewelry

Hey, I'm 20 something!!!

3.  comments about: Susan Foster Jewelry

So adorable...like a little genie bottle!

4.  comments about: LaROK

So cute, especially in winter with some grey tights and red platform pumps...

5.  comments about: Christopher Deane

This dress is HOT! In a totally sophisticated, understated way.

total: 12 posts

Someone needs to fire the stylist at W Magazine 

Is it just me, or does Giselle look suspiciously like Jerry Hall circa 1987 on the cover of this month's W? Not that there's anything wrong with Jerry Hall or the year 1987. It's just not, you know, 1987... so you'd think some attempt would be made to modernize the look. As is, it looks like the movie poster for a period film about the drug-fueled excesses of the late eighties and the toll it took on America's children. I mean, just look at her. That hair is looking permed and teased within an inch of its life. And not gentle body wave permed. Like, authentically fried permed. The kind of hair my cousins used to have with the crunchy bangs that curled under and the big earrings and the loud makeup. Basically, there's A LOT going on here, and although Ms. Bundchen (yes, she does have a last name, contrary to what she would like you to believe) can probably handle it, I just think she would have looked a lot less drag-queenish with a little less. Less hair, less makeup (purple eyeshadow with red lipstick is tricky, to say the least) less jewlery. This looks like Joan Collins' wardrobe from Dynasty came and threw up all over her. And yes, I know W brings a lot of highly "editorial" (read: not wearable) fashion to the table but this is just insane. Someone must stop it. I resist few turns the fashion wheel takes in life, but 80's redux is definitely one of them that must be avoided at all costs. Like the plague. Like antibiotic-resistant Tuberculosis. You see what I'm getting at?


source: www.vogue.com

Jay-Z Acquires Yet Another Multimillion Dollar Asset... 

Were my comments about Paris Hilton too harsh? Did the foot comments cross the line? Perhaps I only made myself look like a jealous old crone who needs to get a life...As a peace offering (though not to Paris) and to prove that I don't simply have a case of anti-celebrity, I'm going to take a moment to commemorate (and I think I can speak for everyone when I say this) a moment I have waited breathlessly for my whole life: Jay-Z, aka Jigga Man, aka the ugliest man alive that you still are kinda, weirdly attracted to, has gotten engaged to his girlfriend, the incomparable, beautiful, somewhat annoyingly ubiquitous Beyonce. Now, not only will the millionaire rap mogul have the hottest chick in the game wearing his chain (haha, I'm so clever), he'll shell out over $3 million for a lavish ceremony on the Caribbean island of Anguilla which will reportedly include (according to hollywoodrag.com) $300,000 worth of Beluga caviar, lobster and italian truffles, and, of course, the most fabulous wedding dress us mere mortals have ever laid eyes on. Not to mention the ring, which will probably be large enough to clobber a small infant to death. Sources say it will be "the hip-hop wedding to end all hip-hop weddings" (www.exposay.com).

Oh, the glamour of it all. The wonders of people who have so much money they sit around all day and think of creative ways to spend it...Nay, I'm not a celebrity hater. I'm a celebrity-obsessed simpleton like everyone else, maybe even more so. Okay, definitely even more so.

Word on the street is that Miss B's dress is going to be modeled after Princess Diana's, and while I can understand her desire to have the ultimate princess gown, I think she would just look so smashing in a long, lean column dress that highlights her ample derriere. Column dresses are huge for fall, but I think they're also classic enough to avoid the decade-after oh-my-god-what-was-I-thinking syndrome. Here's one that I really like from the consummate professional: Vera Wang.


source:weddingchannel.com

Paris is officially the most persecuted socialite gazillionare of all time... 

I know, I know. It's all over the place and you don't care anymore and no one could have a funnier (or more superior) take on the whole situation than those geniuses at Jezebel.com, so I shouldn't even try, but I can't help it. This is like, history in the making and it's so not important but admit it, you care because you secretly want to see Paris cry. Yes, you do. So I'm not going to say anything else about it except this: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I hate you, Paris. You are a vapid, self-serving, myopic, fame-whore-monger. And you have really, really big ugly feet. That is all.


source:www.thesuperficial.com

Devi Kroell for Target: Fab Fashion for People who can't spend 2k on a handbag. Even a cute handbag. 

Thoroughly broke after my trip to New York, I couldn't be happier that one of our very own designers, Devi Kroell, is debuting a line for Target. I for one am more than happy to pick up some of my favorite designers whose looks I could normally never afford. Unlike some of the previous designer/chain megastore collaborations, these pieces actually look a lot like their (much) more expensive counterparts, and not some cheap piece of shit with a designer's name slapped onto it. From what I've seen, there are going to be lots of metallics and snakeskin-embossed pieces. According to Fabsugar, the prices will range from $20-$50. As with any limited edition collection, I'm sure they'll be flying off the shelves, so I'll have to get my ass over to Target ASAP in order to get first dibs.

To get a feel for the collection, here is a bag from Devi Kroell's original line:


And here is a sampling of the bags on offer at Target. Obviously, they're not real python. The lining isn't real silk...but they're really cute nonetheless. And the limited-edition factor is enough to pique my interest.

source: fabsugar.com

Paul Poiret Exhibit at the Met 

In between spending copious amounts of money on clothing (more on that later), ingesting a spectacular amount of overpriced alcohol, and spending the days recovering by gorging myself on lox bagels, I somehow managed to fit a little bit of culture into my New York trip. Not a lot, but a little. (In fairness to me, this was a trip to see my three partners-in-crime from college, ergo excessive drinking and pretending you were 19 again was pretty much mandatory. You've gotta at least pretend you haven't lost your edge. Although I'm pretty sure I never had an edge, I was just borrowing one for a few years).

So I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the special exhibit there on Paul Poiret. I had read about it (in Vogue?) the month before and planned on going all along, and I have to say it was every bit as spectacular as I had imagined. The museum had literally hundreds of pieces by the French master, ranging from turn-of-the-century frocks to full-on flapper regalia. I also learned some pretty interesting facts about Poiret himself. Like basically, he was the first designer in history to use draping instead of patterns for his dresses. He could not sew. He stubbornly clung to his own ornate design sensibilites even as designers like Coco Chanel usurped his detailed embellishment with plain, simple, and wearable apparel. I don't know if you could rightfully call very many designers today true artists (perhaps with the exception of Nicolas Ghesquiere, Stefano Pilati, John Galliano) but Poiret was nothing if not an artist with a vision.

The clothes themselves were spec-freaking-tacular. There were chiffons weighted with what looked like about 40 pounds of ornate beading that had somehow miraculously withstood the past century not just intact, but in flawless condition. I drooled over glitzy flapper gowns and marveled at the modernity of his designs. Even today most of them don't look dated. There were even some shorter, sheer dresses he designed as negligees that I could see someone like Nicole Ritchie prancing around in today. It is amazing to me that there was actually a time in history where fashion was not cyclical. When it was actually innovative. Poiret took elements of orientalism, modernism, and impressionism, but his design concepts were like nothing that came before. Nowadays, designers simply borrow, borrow, borrow. In fact, a lot of them simply buy vintage pieces and deconstruct them to copy the pattern. I went into one fabulous vintage store called Cherry (in the West Village) where the proprietor told me that I had just narrowly missed Stefano Pilati, who regularly came in to buy up dresses to use for patterns. Personally, I don't blame them. How do you improve on perfection? You can't. You can just modify it. Try to tweak it without upsetting its genius.

Anyone who is going to be in New York through the fifth of August simply must see this exhibit. It is to die for. These dresses are so beautiful they could cure depression, AIDS, and world hunger. Now, how many of you can say that about that old black dress hanging in your closet?


source:www.girlawhirl.com

Okay, so I'm going to New York tomorrow (yay!) but I suddenly hate averything in my undersized, worthless closet (not yay). The problem with traveling somewhere fabulous is that you kind of want to get all new clothes before you leave so that you look the part, and of course you also want to do some serious credit damage while you're there as well.

So, the dilemma that presents itself is this: is it more important to shop before a big trip, or during a big trip? (this is assuming that, like me, you have woefully inadequate finances, and that you are probably going to have to skip a few meals in order to shop). So no, unfortunately I can't shop now and in New York. I am faced with a choice. And that's so boring. So, lets pretend for a moment (if you'll indulge me) that I've just married a semi-famous D-list actor from the daytime soaps who makes just enough to sort of indulge me and is also secretly gay but won't admit it becuase it would be bad for his career (not unlike a certiain actor of today. I won't name him but let's just say his name rhymes with Lom Schmooze) and thus loves to shop and loves to shop with me. And we have a cool, best friend strictly-platonic thing going on where I'm a kept woman and he just jets to LA during the week for the filming of his show, leaving me with an empty house and a credit card. Let's just pretend.

In such a situation, here's what I would be buying for my trip. First, a few cute basics:


Banana Republic T-Shirt dress
source: www.bananarepublic.com


Kooba Lena Medium belted bag
source: www.pinkmascara.com


Brian Reyes shorts (please try to ignore the 5-inch gap between this model's upper thighs. It disturbs me, too)
source: www.eccodomani.com

Then, a sturdy pair of wooden-heeled sandals (practical for walking? No. But remember we're in fantasy land where I can actually afford all this stuff):


Johnny Montini Sandals

And finally, a couple of fun add-ons. Just because I'm now semi-rich and married to a D-list closeted gay daytime soap actor:


Marcia Moran cocktail rings


Rebecca Taylor cami with rosettes
source: www.standardstyle.com

Voila! I'm looking fabulous and ready to do some (more) shopping. Bring it on!

The New LBD (Little Blue Dress) 

Okay, let's first get this straight: I can't stand Lindsay Lohan. The problem I have with her is that beyond caring about clothing and her current boytoy and herself, she seems rather vapid. With a mom like Dina, I guess we should hardly blame her (to say nothing of her currently paroled, alcoholic father). The whole family seems a little nuts. And not adorably or relatably nuts. Nuts nuts.

Anyway, I digress. Ever since I saw this picture of LiLo (a moniker nearly as annoying as her tendency to misspell every word in the English language) in this fabulous electric blue string bikini, I've had blue on the brain.



Blue was all over the runways this season: in every shade from an electric cerulean to a deep, rich navy. I personally love it, and I've been sifting through some options for a blue dress for a while now. Here are some of the ones I considered:


Nicole Miller Celestial Blue Dress


Fighting Eel Turquoise Jersey Dress


Ingwa; Melero Linen Dress


LaRok Mac n' Cheese Dress in Enamel

And my absolute favorite:


Yigal Azrouel Halter Style Dress

I'm also currently searching for the perfect navy and robin's egg blue nail polishes, although I have yet to find them. At least one of these fab dresses should curb the blue craving for now.

Hellish Heels 

I have contemplated getting collagen injected into the balls of my feet on multiple occasions because for whatever reason (Mom, I'm looking at you) I seem to have an extremely low tolerance for pain of any kind. I have literally had to be carried to the car at the end of the night because I can’t walk any farther. I wish more than anything to be one of those women who can like, run marathons in high heels. And the more I think about it the more I come to realize that perhaps a tolerance for heels isn't practiced, but innate. Like eye color. Or shoe size. Damn.

And yes, podiatrists (those killjoy spoilsports) are out to ruin our fun. We all know that wearing heels can cause a litany of unsightly conditions later in life (bunions, hammertoes, corns, calluses, the list goes on) but now they're saying that wearing ballerina flats or anything with a thin sole is just as bad. Apparently the only shoes that aren't going to cause us any problems are flat, supportive, cushioned, and may, unfortunately, have to look like these:



These shoes literally cause me a small amount of physical discomfort just looking at them. Something akin to acid reflux. Gastrointestinal distress. If I saw anyone other than a senile octegenarian wearing these, I would run, not walk, the other way. Because anyone crazy enough to wear those shoes is, by extension, most certainly crazy enough to carry on animated monologues in the street while waving around dangerous blunt objects and pretending to direct traffic. You know what I'm talking about.

Alas, there has to be some happy medium. Some middle ground where fashion meets the concern with the long term well being of our feet. And as much as I'd like it to be so, these lovelies do not fit that description:



Yes, yes, I know. Breathtaking. They're from Christian Dior's latest resort collection, and their artistic integrity is only eclipsed by the horrific and irreversible damage they would to to a pair of poor, defenseless, unsuspecting feet.

If anyone, and I mean anyone can point me in the direction of a pair of stylish heels that won't cause an irreversible medical condition, please PLEASE let me know. I am desperate.

Not Your Daughter's Jeans? 

Does anyone remember the old Saturday Night Live skit that was a commercial for “mom jeans”? I think the commercial came out around Mother's Day and said something like, "This year, give her something that says, 'I'm not a woman anymore, I'm a mom!'" and "she'll love the 9 inch zipper and casual front pleats!"
Well, I couldn’t help but recall this skit when I was perusing Nordstrom’s website the other day and came across these:



I almost threw up in my mouth. Not just because these are obviously the most unflattering jeans I’ve ever seen (and on a model, no less) but because the name of the brand was actually “Not Your Daughter’s Jeans.” Well, no sh** I thought, because your daughter wouldn’t be caught dead in these. No one wants to look like they just gave up. And that’s exactly what these jeans are saying to me: I give up. And I don’t care how old you are, how much you weigh, or how much you hate yourself, no one wants to look like they’ve given up.
I understand the concept: that your daughter’s 3-inch rise, distressed, sandblasted, hole-riddled cigarette pants aren’t something anyone over the age of 30 should wear…ever. But give me a break, I think we can do better than these. 575 Denim makes some reasonably mature looking jeans that are still completely fashionable:



There now, isn't that better?

Goldenbleu Sale Event 

I absolutely can't stand unnecessary details on handbags. I don’t want to have lassos and lariats and hardware and fringe dripping from every orifice. First, because it's not practical, and second, because let's face it: the era of the Balenciaga "Le Dix" has come and gone. It would seem that timeless beauty and elegance have supplanted the fixation with anything that dangles.
This is why I love the simple, clean lines found in Goldenbleu’s handbags. They are exquisitely made, and manage to be rich-looking without screaming, “Look, I paid $1,800 for a handbag no one is going to want in six months!”
Case in point: their Spring 2007 line. It has taken some of the season’s key trends (patent leather in bright, eye-popping colors, supersized clutches, roomy totes) and created pieces that are decidedly classic and yet not at all understated. The oversized clutches in hues of lemon yellow and candy-apple green are to die for. A bright red envelope bag manages to be modern and retro at the same time. And innovative techniques like smocking on large leather totes lend some extra texture and interest.
Needless to say I am going to do some serious damage at their sale event tomorrow evening.

Maxi Dresses for Every Height 

For years I labored under the impression that short people should never ever ever ever wear any dress or skirt that hits below the knee, so as to avoid that dreaded stub-leg syndrome. I don't know if the same holds true for short people with bird legs, but for me (I have what my mother calls "solid" ankles) just the thought of doing anything to foreshorten my already diminutive frame is quite frightening indeed.

And yet, when the new crop of maxi-dresses came out, I found myself drawn inexplicably to their easy bohemian elegance. Particularly the cotton-jersey dresses from T-Bags. I pored over photograph after photograph of different starlets galavanting around LA in the long, halter-neck style, and I wondered, can I pull this off?

Thus I found myself wandering into Gioia Boutique in San Anselmo, determined to find out once and for all, will the maxi dress work on someone with a smaller frame? How short is too short?...

First I tried on one of the T-Bags halter style long dresses like the ones I had enviously spied on the backs of everyone from Paris Hilton to Mandy Moore. And I kid you not when I say the effect was nothing short of miraculous. I instantly looked taller, more statuesque, and totally put-together. As an added bonus: I felt like I was wearing a nightgown. A dress that looks like a million-bucks and feels like loungewear? I'll take twenty. As long as A.) the print's not too big, and B.)the skirt of the dress is not too full, anyone, of any height should be able to rock this style. Just do it with flats, please. I promise, you'll still look tall.

And then I was perusing BrandHabit's website and came across this gem from Mint by Jodi Arnold:



Now that, my friends, is a delicious little dress. Soooooo summery and cute. I can't wait to buy it.

Having just spent a hellish 24 hours trying to fly my way back to California from Nashville, I can honestly say that I'm pretty much over traveling. Anywhere. Ever. When, due to technical difficulties, we missed our connection in Dallas and had to spend the night in a sleazy hotel, sans luggage, I was forced to make the decision to A: not wash my face at all (very yucky) or B: use the only product available--a bar of handsoap on the sink that probably dries you out like talcum powder. Since the new federal air regulations require you to pack most of your toiletries away in your checked luggage, poor people like me are forced to sleep in a full face of makeup after our pores have already soaked up stale airplane atmosphere for about two hours...Not only that, but I have to wash my only pair of underwear and let them dry overnight, which means either sleeping on gross, worn out sheets in the nude, or in clothes that probably have about six different strains of strepptococcus on them. I could have kicked myself for not being more prepared (traveling with at least an extra pair of underwear, e.g.). But even worse than the clothes, I found, was not having my products there with me, especially since I was in the middle of treating an unsightly and rather aggressive pimple on my right cheek.
The moral of the story is, until this whole security nonsense dies down and a tube of undereye cream is no longer a threat....it'll be rough sailing for anyone who is unfortunate enough to become separated from their luggage. My advice? Buy one of the new travel kits that have products in sizes that are FAA approved (3 oz. or less). Just don't forget to put them in no bigger than a one quart sized sealable plastic bag....or you're screwed anyway.