The can't-wait-to-wear-it-to-work dress

I realize not all of you climb out of bed each morning giddy with Christmas-Eve-like excitement over which all-black ensemble you'll assemble for work.

Just like I'll never understand how my brother can find unadulterated joy in creating "elegant code," most of you probably can't relate to the all-over tingle I experience when I discover the outfit to which Monte has given his final approval is a never-before-worn permutation of this black pouf-sleeve satin-piped boatneck blouse with that black tri-acetate ultra-slim pencil skirt with those black 4.25-inch croc-embossed almond-toed pumps.

Honestly, an all-over tingle.

To many, all-black, regardless of the cuts, the of-interest detailing or the richness of the fabrics, is representative of a kind of fashion safety - conformity, even - that perpetuates all that is wrong and boring and too-conventional on DC's professional style scene.

Pish-posh to that, I say.

But instead of launching into another one of my there's-nothing-wrong-with-all-black analyses, this time I'll go another route and acknowledge what the vast majority of the public wants, which in the case of a can't-wait-to-wear-it-to-work dress is likely not a simple black bought-in-11th-grade Banana Republic sheath. No, some of you like prints, some of you like non-black neutrals like grey, brown, navy and ivory, and still others - individuals I enjoy looking at but with whom I share very little professional-style kinship - enjoy draping themselves in this thing called "color."

With all that in mind, here is a selection of non-black (grey doesn't count), office-appropriate** frocks assured to start your day off on an I-feel-beautiful note and that will no doubt earn you "Love the dress" compliments on your way into, at, and on your way home from the office:

Alexa dress by Sofira ($352 at couturecandy.com)
Abel print dress by DvF ($241.50 at pinkmascara.com)*

Houndstooth knit jersey dress ($138 at bananarepublic.com)

Silk Duppioni Melanie dress by Tory Burch ($375 at toryburch.com)

Jackie O. tweed dress by Black Halo ($308 at ronherman.com)

Shirt dress by Lewis Cho ($110 at activeendeavors.com)

Mock turtleneck dress by Cynthia Steffe ($265 at nordstrom.com)

Plum dress by Trina Turk ($248 at nordstrom.com)*

Puff-sleeve shirtdress ($118 at macys.com)

Papillon printed border dress ($124.50 at shopbop.com)

Drape front Dolman dress by Rachel Pally ($68.40 at shopbop.com) Polka-dot shirtdress by Catherine Malandrino ($425 at urbanchiconline.com)

*dresses your Editrix might consider

**office-appropriate for those who are not required to wear a suit everyday

"Don't mix your colors."

That's what A, my Kiwi co-worker in Daqing, always used to say when he saw anyone about to make the beer-to-red-wine or baijiu-to-whiskey-to-rum transition:

"Eef theh's won theeng I no-oh, eet's don't meex yeh kuh-lehs!"

While apropos for drinking, the "Don't mix your colors" rule, contrary to what one DC woman who works at the National Geographic Society seems to think, does not apply to the world of professional dress. So unless you're one of those "don'tcha-wanta-wanta" ladies who's required by contract to wear a head-to-toe monochromatic ensemble, it is not only advisable but flat-out required for you to wear more than one color to the office.

Black, of course, being the only exception. If you need help with how to do the all-black, click here and let me give you a refresher course.

Back to the National Geographic lady. You love green, I get it and that's great, but that doesn't mean you should let yourself supersaturate in the color with a pair of tapered, leaf green Mom cords, lime green Moroccan-beaded flats, a faded-from-not-following-the-"hand-wash-only"-label kelly green cotton cable crewneck sweater, and I shit you not, a perfectly-matching-the-shoes lime-hued leather barn coat.

I'm not going to degrade this woman with the predictable Kermit the frog comparison or take the erudite path with an Iago analysis, but what I will do is call this look lazy, silly and unprofessional.

Evidenced by the effort it must have taken her to compile all these green wardrobe components (I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for a jacket that color), this woman clearly cares about presentation. And despite their Mom-like cuts, the excellent fit of each piece further bolsters this claim. How then, can a woman who meticulously coordinates and pays such careful attention to the just-right drape of each one of those fabrics against her frame, fall victim to a fashion mistake even kids on the short-bus know to avoid?

Then again, there are more important vexing issues for which my analytic faculties are better suited -- for example, how the sultry hotness that is Amy Winehouse - and potentially your next Bond Girl - can in the space of only a few months go from this to this to this below.

Oh right, a heroin and heartbreak cocktail. That'll get you every time.

Work that dumpster, girl.

I didn't think it was that interesting of a story anymore, but upon seeing the threads Naomi Campbell has worn over the last three days while reporting to trash duty, sweeping school, or whatever the hell she's been tasked to do as penance for flinging a cell phone at her assistant - which, considering this assistant lost her favorite pair of jeans, I think got off fairly easily - I'm now inclined to think there's more here than I initially thought.

Considering her image as a conscience-less diva bitch who occasionally emerges from her fiery lair to attend court proceedings and date younger men, why would Ms. Campbell show up to Swiffer in $10,000+ outfits, carry not one but two designer handbags and aside from the red soles of her Louboutin stilettos, sport nothing but black?

The only answer I can come up with is that she just doesn't care. Girl knows she got caught, and even though she doesn't want to get up before 11am and not shop for 36-inch inseam high-waisted crepe trousers, she knows she has no choice. She knows that if she doesn't do exactly what the man in the black robe ordered her to do, she might have to go even longer without Champagne brunches, Evian baths and failed restaurant ventures.

So fine, these outfits say, she'll do your dirty work and "apologize" for the awful, horrible wrong she's committed, but there will be absolutely no introspection, no lessons learned and no promises that any other inanimate, around-the-house objects - the phone or the help - won't meet with a similar fate in the future.

She's not here to convince the other criminals, the city employees or any of us who download pictures of her walking from her chauffeured car to the front door of the NYC Sanitation Department that she's not as awful as we think she is, because she is and she knows it, and she's fine with it.

And that attitude makes me smile, because it proves to me once again how much we need women like Naomi around to remind us just how boring and unfashionable life would be if the world was only filled with law-abiding, equal-playing-time-supporting, gosh-darn-she's-so-nice Jennifer Aniston types.

Naomi, looking trash-collector chic on days one through three of her five-day sentence:

When they're not *not* eating

Models like to walk around town looking fierce. Not too quickly, though, or hints of muscle tone might creep into their legs.

And they know how Karl Lagerfeld feels about muscle tone.

The models taking part in this week's Fashion Week in Paris are no exception. From a fabulous black winter coat with a funnel neck or Peter Pan collar (pictures 1, 3 and 6 are particularly enviable) to a pair of slouchy, lived-in leather boots to oversized leather satchels to the opaque-tights-with-animal-print-heels look, these models' street style, I have to admit, is pretty darn hip.

Of the 103 snaps Elle photographers took yesterday of these creepy-crawly, unnaturally pretty, always smoking six-foot creatures during the 22 hours they weren't working their bony bottoms off, here are my 10 favorite and the 10 I believe are most DC-interpretable: