28 September 2007
Happy 35th birthday, lovely Dita von Teese.
You inspire in all of us - the meek, the uptight, the humorless and the puerile - a desire to be milky white, sexually powerful, uninhibited seductresses like yourself.
And apparently, you're also using your feminine wiles to spread your love for neutering! While championing that cause may incur the wrath of my wittle Monte-ster, you definitely score points with me, in part because I fundamentally agree with the practice but largely because I fundamentally agree with the art direction in that ad campaign.
Barbara batwing sweater by Pink Tartan ($325 at saks.com)
Bucket bag by ginette etc… ($588 at shopbop.com)
27 September 2007
...I come across a breathstoppingly beautiful, a so-perfectly-designed-to-accentuate-the-waist-to-hip countour that my hand is involuntarily drawn to my lips, could-only-be-couture ensemble like Hilary Swank's Louis Vuitton structured asymmetric wool cowl-neck blouse with pleated hem and matching pencil skirt at the launch of Guerlain's new perfume, "Insolence," at Selfridges in London earlier today.
I love the color, I love the cut, I love the dramatic sweep across the bustline of the exaggerated cowl -- frankly, if I had the money, this is exactly the kind of prim, conservative outfit you'd find me wearing to work everyday.
Now, if I had long hair like Hilary does, I certainly wouldn't have pulled a Petra and mucked up the showpiece quality of the neckline by allowing it to trickle down and tumble over the side. Instead, I'd have chosen a simple, side-parted upswept chignon, similar to what I imagine is underneath the runway model's very large beret, or, as Bridal Bird identified it earlier, the "[The Peculiar] Purple Pieman [of Porcupine Peak] hat."
Another weensy nitpick I have involves Ms. Swank's choice of footwear, which looks to me a bit too close in silhouette to both the pilgrim booty and hipster pootie to which, as you well know, I can offer not a whit of endorsement.
Instead, I would have chosen an equally Autumnal but slightly less full-coverage pump like this one from Gucci that in addition to having a more pleasing aesthetic, as a bonus, would have allowed the brown in the heel to nicely pick up the chestnut hue of the large YSL dome-shaped bowler bag clutched in Hilary's hand.
People in the more mainstream fashion industries tend to believe that for every expensive outfit one can always find an equally stylish more reasonably-priced alternative, and on most days, especially when I find a near-identical match for my "If I had a sugar daddy..." feature, I agree with this statement. But then there are other times, like this one, when the design in question is as much an artistic accomplishment as it is something pretty to wear, when I have to bow my short crop in defeat and accept the fact that a trip to the Jersey Shore may be fun, may have sun and may have 99 flavors of shaved ice, is just not the same as a vacay aboard the Diddy yacht in St. Tropez.
More of Hilary looking almost perfect in LV:
At first glance, there's nothing particularly Autumnal about the selection of handbags you'll find below, but since we're now fewer than three days from the inauguration of the season and I presume, as with clothing, stores stock their tote, satchel and shoulder bag inventories each quarter with seasonally appropriate materials and styles, I feel justified in appointing the label "for-Fall" on the following 10 daybags.
You may notice the substitution of pewter for pink in my rainbow -- you're welcome for that.
Bleecker leather duffle by Coach ($328 at coach.com)
Leather twist lock holdall (£45 at Leather twist topshop.com)
Somerset large satchel ($228 at bananarepublic.com)*
*your Editrix's top picks
26 September 2007
I know not every professional woman in this city shares my view on the notion that a serious job is no excuse for turning a blind eye - or in many cases, a pair of blind eyes - to how one looks as they bridge the divide between home and office.
I realize for some of you, whether it's out of necessity or preference or whatever, clothes are just...well, clothes. Nothing more. And certainly nothing over which you find yourself fretting, fawning or foregoing meals on a daily basis.
But in the spirit of a post I wrote a few months back in which I questioned one young woman's decision to introduce the belly shirt to a Sunday morning church service, I would like to here and now raise the issue of another peculiar - and in my opinion, equally offensive - lapse in think-of-how-it-affects-others judgment.
And that would be the jacked-up, cracked-up, haven't-seen-a-bottle-of-Jergens-since-the-Clinton-administration heels stuffed into a pair of besequinsed too-small, peep-toed, kitten-heeled slides.
There are few female body parts that when taken care of properly have the ability to distract (at least temporarily) from a busted mug, a bulging belly, jumbly thighs or a shiteous haircut. Gorgeous, fresh skin does the job, a taut pop of ass definitely goes a long way, and the last feature on this shortlist, the feature that can really boost a 5 to a 6.5 and the reason why so many of us spend more time and money at the salon than we should or can afford is a pretty, well cared-for pair of feet.
But as I saw yesterday evening at the intersection of 17th and L, the power that on one hand can upgrade a woman's hotness factor has the power to down-down-downgrade it as well.
You wouldn't expose your colleagues to a rash on your inner thigh, you wouldn't share with the world an infected, ingrown nail, you wouldn't find it appropriate to wear a top that highlighted a giant whitehead on your back, so why, why are so many women - not just the aforementioned one, but throngs and throngs of callous and fissure-flaunting females in my pocket of the city - under the misconception that their so-dry-they-look-diseased feet have the right to see the light of day in an office setting?
To all the women who favor the slide, I implore you, either lotion 'em up, or keep 'em well encased in a non-slingbacked pump, boot, sneaker, hell even one of those stupid-looking pootie things.
Because from now on, I'd like to keep down my $5.49 Infinite Orange smoothie, thank you.
I've had a piece polished and prepped to post since this morning, but for some lollygaggin' reason, Blogspot won't allow me to upload it.
As I often do on the rare occasion when my little junebug hurls his little self into a conniption fit, I've made the decision to let the system cool down, collect itself and try to reason with it again in a few hours.
25 September 2007
There's no telling when - or if - something like this will present itself again, so I advise hiking up your pencil skirt, taking a chance your more conservative self typically wouldn't and jumping head-first into this opportunity as soon as you can.
Aside from the always soothing croon of Huey Lewis and the (usually) inner-dialogued "tighter ass, higher ass, tighter ass, higher ass..." chant, there is only one other distraction that can consistently convince me as I'm climbing at snail - no, glacial - pace the hill by American University's Katzen Arts Center that all this giving up of weekday night drinks and wearing of skinny jeans (just try fitting these in these without knuckle burns) is worth investing the inordinate amount of time, energy and joint deterioration training for a 26.2 mile race necessitates.
Millesime Imperial EDP Spray by Creed ($110 at neimanmarcus.com)