My Daily Rubbish

Dazed and Confused

2011-05-03T05:39:00.000-07:00

I just finished listening to a 'This American Life' podcast about proms, which was both hilarious and slightly disturbing. I admit, that like millions of other high-schoolers, I attended both my Junior and Senior prom. However, my experience was perhaps inevitably different than that of the typical 17 year old. Firstly, I went to boarding school. We were not allowed to have after parties, we were locked in to our student center after the prom festivities ended to ensure that no drinking or driving would occur. We had to get picked up at 6AM the next morning by reluctant parents, because apparently, lack of sleep mimics the effects of inebriation, thus driving was an absolute no-no. The aftermath of this prom situation was a bunch of unhappy students, definitely feeling as though they had been refused the experience of what is often believed to be the pinnacle of your high school career. And, one very unhappy student who broke their nose on the mechanical bull our school thought was a good idea to set up (?). So much for stopping potential disaster.

Secondly, unlike many a prom student, I did not view prom as the culmination of my high school career, as an opportunity to ask a boy I had been crushing on for years, or be asked by a boy I had been crushing on for years. It wasn't, for me, the moment where I realize that I am no longer that naive, innocent high school student, but about to become the obviously more mature, college bound graduate. No, prom was the perfect excuse to sucker my mother into buying me a fantastic dress. As you have probably gathered, I utilize every opportunity I can to create an excuse for buying a new outfit. The Bat and Bar Mitzvah season of my younger seventh grade years was heaven. What better excuse to buy new outfits then having to attend the most important religious event of your best Jewish friends lives?? That's what I thought. I have spent nearly every party, event, celebration of my life not necessarily looking forward to the big day itself, for those moments leading up to that big day, the time spent scouring racks, deciding what dress, or outfit, is best suited for those few hours and will, after the moment is over, continue to encompass, and perpetuate its memories.

You may think that this way of looking at momentous occasions is skewed, and I am sure to a certain degree it is. But after listening to this podcast about the disappointments, the heartaches, the consequential blurry memories because you had one too many Mikes Hard Lemonades in the back of the Limo, that have come to define the typical prom experience, I am happy to say that I will stick with my approach. The dress I bought for prom still hangs in my closet, and has been worn countless other times. I still remember how excited I was when I found it, how glorious it felt to slip it on after I had my hair and makeup did, and how confident I was walking into that hotel ballroom. That my friends are the memories I have, and they are brought back to me every time I pass by that little DVF number hanging in my closet. So while I may not have experienced what the author of the 'Sweet Valley High' series calls the most momentous event of your adolescent life, the most idyllic romantic event before your wedding, as other teenagers did, I had a fantastic time in a fantastic dress. I can hold out for romantic until my wedding, and to tell you what-the thing that I am most excited for when that big day rolls around is, you guessed it, the dress shopping...

"In two weeks it'll be the longest day in the year... Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it."

2011-05-02T14:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I did a very decadent thing; I spent the entire day in bed reading Persuasion. It was all very romantic until you realized that the reason I was bed ridden was because the days prior I had spent at parties: wedding parties, polo parties, may day parties. An epic wedding ending, appropriately, in a day of bed rest with a good book and a bag of cookies.

This past weekend involved a very important tradition at St. Andrews, May Dip. Each year, thousands of students dive into the North Sea at dawn on May 1st honoring a student who reportedly saved five men from an offshore ship. By partaking in the dip a student is also able to remove the curse he or she may have fallen victim too by stepping on the PH stones outside St Salvator's College. The stones commemorate Patrick Hamilton, a Protestant martyr who was burned at the stake, at that location, in 1528. April 30th, thus, is the longest day of the year here at St. Andrews, and one you do not want to miss. But we all know that it is not the reversal of some curse which motivates thousands of students to throw of their clothes and jump willingly into the frigid ocean. There is only one motivation for that sort of behavior, and that is massive quantities of booze.

This was my last may dip, and so I was not going to miss it. So I spent the day doing what any normal student would do when they are forced to stay up until dawn to jump into the ocean; I went to a polo match. Newsflash: Watching a Polo match does not make time go by any faster, but Pimms does! And so, like the throngs of other St. Andrews students, I made my way into the ocean in the wee hours of the morning, exhausted, tipsy and excited to be sharing in such a fantastic tradition...once.

Colorblocking

2011-04-06T18:12:00.000-07:00

I have been really in to matching my my nail polish with my outfits lately. Or, completely clashing my nail polish with what I'm wearing for a slightly 'cooler' look, if you will. I am terrible at painting my own nails, but I find that I do much better after a glass of wine (or so I think...) and with Q-tips and nail polish remover handy. I'll go in for a mani pedi every once in awhile to make sure everything is in order, but at home maintenance has become a recession necessity.

Anywho, I used to be a die hard 'Berry Hard' by Essie fan. It is still my when-in-doubt go to, but I am trying to branch out. Pastels have never been my thing, in life and definitely on my nails, so I tend toward deeper gem tones. Chanel's 'Black Pearl' is dynamite, but needs two coats to reach its full potential. I love wearing it with blacks, greys and greens. It looks fantastic.

Illamasqua makes STELLAR, outrageous, punky colors. I love love love 'Viridian', which is described on their website as being 'Peacock green'. I couldn't agree more with that description, it is surely out to make a big impact. I wore it with a sequin purple Porenza Schuler shirt and jeans a few weeks ago and it really upped the wow factor!

I scoured department stores for Nars 'Mash', a deep army green which looks fab with jeans and a t-shirts. It was sold out everywhere, but I grabbed the last bottle at Barneys, my lucky day!

My newest purchase was Chanel's deep purple 'Vendetta'. I can not wait to have it painted on my nails tomorrow during my pre-plane mani pedi tomorrow. Excitement!

I don't know why I felt the need to list my favorite nail-polishes, but I suggest you all run out and purchase a few bottles yourself. And if you don't like painting your nails the colors are gorgeous to look at on your bedside table, especially after a few glasses of wine.

Chanel Black Pearl

Chanel Vendetta

Illamasqua Viridian

Nars Mash

Inspired

2011-04-05T20:15:00.000-07:00

Even postmortem Alexander McQueen is dishing out inspired pieces. I like to think that his ghost is huddled over a drawing table spewing out these designs. Morbid thoughts, or sweet dreams? Either way I want this bag. I will carry it with braided hair and prance through the woods like a Grimm's nymph or a Tolkien elf. That romantic image was not actually inspired by the bag itself, but rather Net-a-Porter's description of the bag as 'folk-lore inspired'. Yes, I see how the pattern may evoke the images seen decorating the pages of an illustrated copy of 'Little Red Riding Hood', but tell me Net-a-Porter, what piece of folk-lore popped into your head when you saw this magnificent clutch? I will let your shady comparison slide because I enjoy envisioning myself as an ivory skinned blond waif running through a woods a la Hans Christian Andersen, and carrying this bag. But seriously...'folk-lore inspired'? We aren't talking about Vera Bradley here...

Alexander McQueen De-Manta Clutch available at Net-a-Porter

I, the cookie monster

2011-04-05T19:46:00.000-07:00

We have always had chocolate chip cookies around my house. I remember making them as a child with my mother. I would eat heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar out of the bag when she wasn't looking, but I didn't like the cookies! She would get so angry because I refused to like those delicious morsels of heaven. Then, in about seventh grade, I went to the doctor. The doctor told my mother that I was very underweight and in order to insure normal growth patterns she should feed me whatever I wanted at any time I wanted it. So we would stop at Johnny Rockets for post school chocolate malts. I would get my bagels with extra butter. And my mother started picking me up from school with cakes and cookies waiting for me in the back seat. Literally...cakes.

I gained twenty pounds no problem, and a few inches, but unfortunately my addiction to bake goods didn't quite end. One night, before an excessively long flight to China, I managed to eat an entire batch of cookies. Some may say I had a binge eating problem, I like to think that its just me expressing my never ending love for my mother...whatever gets you through the day, right?

Now my flatmate will tell you if there is anything I consistently eat, it is cookies. When I am too lazy to bake my own I scramble to Tesco for their homemade chocolate chunk cookies, which are not quite as good as my mother's but make a pretty darn good stand in. However, I will not eat any cookie, I am incredibly specific to the point that the perfect chocolate cookie has become somewhat of an obsession at our home. Thankfully, I think my mother has perfected the chocolate chip cookie. Now I know that everyone thinks that their mother makes the best cookie ever, and that's true. Your childhood memories of sitting on your counter, licking the spoon while your mom scoops the perfect dough balls onto buttered baking sheets may trick you into thinking that those cookies are the best. But, I hate to burst your bubble...your mama ain't got nothin on mine. I will let the following pictures speak for themselves, but lets just say that my father has been bringing these weekly to his Tuesday meeting (I've mentioned I live in Mayberry right?) since the recession of '08. For some reason, clearly not his own intellectual merits, he still has his job. Funny what a cookie can do...

Ps. Only joking about dear old pop's brain. He is one of the smartest dudes I know and an excellent portfolio manager. Although, if he is so good at managing money, perhaps he should stop leaving his own on the kitchen counter where is crafty daughter can easily grab a twenty, but what do I know.

Devil in the White City

2011-04-05T06:29:00.000-07:00

I just finished Devil in the White City Erik Larson. I found it fascinating. I found that Larson sometimes had a difficult time finding the balance between journalist and novelist, but I suppose the novel teeters between both. Either way the book reccounts both the suspenseful tale of H. H. Holmes, one of the country's most illusive serial killers, and the composition of the 1893 Chicago World's Fair.

If you are looking for a book that when read in public will make you friends, then you have found it in Devil in the White City. I found that whenever I pulled this puppy out of my bag for some impromptu reading I had a multitude of commentators noting how much they had enjoyed this read. It seems everyone, everywhere has read Devil in the White City and I have yet to find a single soul that didn't enjoy it. Power through the first 100 pages and I think you will find it a completely engrossing page turner.

Good Morning to me

2011-04-05T06:10:00.000-07:00

My mother is a wonderful person. More importantly, my mother is a wonderful baker. If you don't take to her like a bee to honey you will certainly learn to because she will undoubtedly win you over with her perfect chocolate chip cookie. If you are lucky enough she may even share with you the secrets to her never dry chocolate cake (the original credit owning to my father's mother).

Oh...I am just kidding Ma. We all know that dad didn't marry you because he liked your goodies ( I am choosing to ignore the inappropriate connotations embedded in that word choice...). But truly, my mothers baked goods surpass all competition. If she really loves you, you may awake, as I did this morning, to find that she has baked you the most perfect blueberry muffin ever before running off to her Tennis match (oh, I'm sorry did I mention I live in Mayberry?). Seriously though. I know that I just wrote an entire blog about my love for toast, and I have to admit that when I awoke this morning to find that I was not going to be eating my usual bagel toast with butter and jam, I was slightly disappointed. But if you know me, then you know that the only other breakfast carb that can sway my allegiances is a blueberry muffin.

These delightful, crumbly blueberry muffins were the creation of baker mastermind Sarabeth Levine of Sarabeth's in NYC. They have an outpost in Key West at which we ate nearly every meal. My mother insisted that we did not leave Key West without the incredibly large, heavy, baking instruction manual by Sarabeth herself, which offers a glimpse into her years of baking knowledge, secrets and recipes. The book has forever changed my mother.

I love these muffins. Why? A) They are not that heavy, so I can have two... B) They have the most delicious strudel topping so they don't get that rubbery glazed over look you often find with the standard Dunkin Donut muffin. C) They have citrus undertones provided by a squeeze of orange juice and some lemon. I am practically transported to heaven.

Pictures below so you can all be jealous that you don't have a mother like mine, and also that you don't own Sarabeth's cookbook its called 'Sarabeth's Bakery: From My Hands to Yours'. Since you can't fix the former issue, I suggest you focus on the later and run out immediately to your local bookstore and pick up this treasure trove of knowledge. It certainly is an investment into your happiness. On to the next muffin!

Dear...

2011-04-04T19:27:00.000-07:00

Letter writing, journal keeping, all things literary and romantic have always intrigued me. Did I ever have the patience to sit down nightly and write down my hopes and dreams? My witty-isms, my poetry? Complaints about loved ones, compliments about loved ones? No...I have kept these cooped up inside my head for the past 22 years, which may explain the headaches and general cloudiness.

On the upside, my mother was never able to find a diary hidden under a pillow, although she is not a snooper (unless you count emptying out the occasional forgotten about purse). And I never feared that my secrets would be revealed on the playground after forgetting my journal under a tree. On the downside, I will never channel my inner romantic heroine. I have tried, trust me. After reading 'I Capture the Castle' my sophomore year of high school I wrote my friend a letter (unheard of) riddled with words that only a British 16 year old would have used in about 1940. My friend kept the letter pressed in the novel, which I had passed along to her, and we laughed about it a couple years later.

I have about fifty Moleskin notebooks, which to me scream literary genius. I hoped that they would inspire my creative juices to finally put pen to paper and produce a journal filled with odds and ends, thoughts and tidbits I could revisit. Not likely, but I do love how those Moleskins look stacked intimidatingly on my shelves and desk. My friends must think they are filled with a gold mind of gossipy thoughts. Alas, if they were to snoop they would only be disappointed.

However, I feel as though I am finally, FINALLY, at the point in my life that I may be able to produce the journal that I have dreamed about for years. It may have something to do with a little item I stumbled across whilst pursuing my other passion, online shopping. Enter the Postalco 'chance print notebook'. DIVINE. It looks like the marbled paper you only find in small stationary shops in Italy, but apparently is uber durable with nice thick paper to write on. I am suddenly feeling very inspired. Now let me just buy one of these beautiful notebooks and I will be writing in no time...oh they make leather bags too? Now we are talking. Thank you Postalco, you have married the passion which I would like to possess: journal writing, with the passion I know I already have: shopping, I mean Fashion...Freudian slip? You even carry bags that I can buy to carry both my wallet and my new journal filled with my hopes and dreams. Now that's smart.

Postalco Leather Bag

Postalco notebook available at Opening Ceremony

Eat both squares please.

2011-04-04T18:51:00.000-07:00

My dad loves advertisements that feature talking babies and talking animals. His current favorite is for the new Peanut Butter Snickers. Who doesn't like talking sharks?

God's Food

2011-04-04T18:49:00.000-07:00

There is one question in life I know my definitive answer too, and that is what is your favorite food: Toast. I love toast. Buttered toast, jam on toast, Nutella on toast, peanut butter on toast, peanut butter and banana toast, peanut butter and jelly...on toast, cinnamon toast! Give me a piece of bread, a toaster and some delicious spread and I am set for life. Seriously, I have eaten toast for every meal. When and if I ever marry, my poor bloke of a husband will be in for a surprise when he realizes that the only thing on our wedding registry are toasters. I have had my eye on this one from William Sonoma for awhile...

My preferred butter is salted. My preferred jam is strawberry. Specifically Raphaël Fraise Confiture (that's strawberry in French thank you very much). In fact when my parents took me to Paris in the fourth grade (lucky lucky girl), I learned the word for butter and strawberry in French just so I could outfit my toast abroad. Clearly I am both stubborn and traditional when it comes to my breakfast foods, I haven't changed my regimen in about 18 years.

Perhaps it is time for a change. Recently I have been adding blueberry jam into my mix after making my own this summer...but that is chump change, I need something major. Today I was reading The Selby, a glorious website which allows us to glimpse the fantastic abodes of creative types. Specifically, I was reading about the two owners of Tartine Bakery in San Francisco, who may, dare I say it, know toast better then I. Well, Tartine Bakery, you may have made a changed toaster out of me. You suggested that I fry my bread in butter to toast it. I have only ever experienced this phenomenon on grilled cheese and I liked it just fine then. I can't imagine what deliciousness will explode in my mouth when I fry my favorite bread, in my favorite butter and cover it in my favorite jam. God's food.

Its 8:00 PM here and I think I will tuck in. Sooner to bed, sooner to wake, sooner to toast. Nighty night!

Deliciousness pictured above.

Duck Duck Goose

2011-04-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

Prada Stripes

Photo of Aurora Sansone taken by Tamu Mcpherson

Cos Stripes

Layered stripes from Cos Spring 2011

On an entirely different more personal note, my favorite name when I was a child was Aurora. I was a HUGE fan of sleeping beauty. One of my dearest friends and I bonded over the fact that we both wanted to name our future unborn daughters Aurora...special times.

Hanes got it right the first time...

2011-03-21T02:01:00.000-07:00

If my mother has taught me anything, it is how to collect. My father is always laughing at her because the minute she buys more than two of anything it is her newest insta-collection. We have collections of wooden ducks, wooden fish, roosters (which she claims is my fathers), McCoy pottery, RedWing pottery...the list continues. Woman is a white collar hoarder if you ask me. But apart from embodying excess in the fundamental sense, what my mother's numerous collections have taught me is that when you like something, why not just stick with it? She applies this mentality to wooden animal decoys, I apply it to my closet. Enter my collection of t-shirts. I have crew necks, v-necks, deeper v-necks, round necks, silk blends, cotton blends, modal! Oversize, tunic length, awkward hits just above the jean could be a boarder line tummy top if you raise your hands too quickly length (thank you three dot), french brands, English brands, NYC brands, Cali brands...needless to say my collection is epically extensive. It all began when I discovered Petit Bateau my sophomore year of high school. I scooped up ten of the crew neck tees in black, grey, white and pink and that's what I wore all year. If I was going to a party, on went the Petit Bateau black tee, my big Urban Outfitter earrings, impossibly low Sevens and a pair of eBay purchased Prada pumps. If I was going to school, light pink tee, a little higher James jeans and my converse tennies.

My sizes may have gotten bigger, and my jeans THANKFULLY have gotten higher, but my collection of tees remains, forever, essential to my closet. However, a few years back designers caught on to the innate love women have for their t-shirts and all of a sudden there were designer tees! For an impressionable girl of 16 just coming into her style the ever expanding t-shirt section at Bloomingdales was a danger zone. I think my mother would be happy to hear me finally admit that perhaps my pocketbook was prone to open too quickly at any soft, black v-neck I could justify as 'practical'.

A few too many t-shirts later and I was shipped up too Door County Wisconsin to waitress and ultimately 'learn the value of a dollar'. The real tragedy was not the job, I waitressed at a burger joint that served food on a toy train; rather it was the redefinition of retail therapy. My shopping habit was relegated to Walmart. CRINGE! How could my mother ever think that in my most pivotal years of development I should be forced to peruse the racks of Walmart! I could literally feel my closet wane between racks of MaryKate and Ashley's teen line and hunting gear. But somewhere in that abyss of polyester, a beacon of hope in the men's section: The Hanes Tee. So soft, so perfectly cut, so perfectly long! So CHEAP, so effortlessly cool. I scooped up ten packs of five right there.

My love affair with the Hanes Tee is ongoing. And like I said before, I love me a collection, so of course I have about fifty of them (no lie...but its a little more justifiable because I split my time between four places). My favorite are the Men's Comfort Soft size small, after a few washes they shrink up a bit and fit perfectly. If you are feeling DIY-ish, cut the neck out for a deeper V that rivals the tee's Erin Wasson did for RVCA a few seasons ago (which, of course, I own). You will be happy to know that the new tee connoisseur himself, Alexander Wang, declared his T-Collection tees inspired by that just slept in feel of a men's cotton t-shirt.

Of course I am still a sucker for a designer tee, but I have gotten better about figuring out when to spend the money and when to take a pass. My favorite t-shirts to splurge on are Harlow for undeniably sexy V-necks, James Perse for incredible fit, and J-crew for the absolute perfect cotton tee. I am lusting after the v-neck tee from MiH denim, and I will always be prone to give in to Alexander Wang's impossibly soft tees, although I have started washing them instead of dry cleaning and find it makes all the difference.

Anywho, I send you out on your quest for the perfect tee, hopefully a bit more informed. As always the best starting spot is the men's section at Walmart (or Target if you are feeling classy). Time for me to get dressed!

Dear Tabitha Simmons

2011-03-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

What makes you think you can charge $495 for swanky tennies?

Tabitha Simmons Dolly shoe

Oh they look like that, well...ok, maybe...

What do you do when you wake up too early on a sunday?

2011-02-27T03:09:00.000-08:00

And randomly have some extra buttermilk in your fridge? Make biscuits of course! Breakfast this morning looked like this...

The first bite felt like I had found my long lost twin. Bliss.

I don't have a yacht but...

2011-02-24T14:10:00.000-08:00

I'd get one just so I could have a reason to wear these.

The Bed Stu Boat Shoe

Jean Jacket, Bikini, Beach = Heaven.

My morning wishlist

2011-02-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

Isabel Marant Sweater

Michael Michael Kors Fringe Skirt

Alexander Wang Canvas Oxfords

Etro Hammered Gold Cuff

Roberto Cavalli Earrings

Dreamy. Everything Available in Heaven, or Net-a-porter

How do you do it Kate Bosworth?

2011-02-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

When I wear my grey sweats with my grey stollen-from-mom cashmere sweater, no one tells me 'monochrome is everywhere'. How do you do it Kate Bosworth?

Picture and quote taken from becauseimaddicted

Just because I'm 22 doesn't mean I don't want it filled with candy

2011-02-08T10:36:00.000-08:00

LOOK at the gloriousness of these shimmering pinata's by Confetti System. I think I need one. I think the success of my 23rd birthday depends on it. Wait a minute...'Filled with our own handmade confetti'. Pshhhhh, WHAT? Is that even a pinata?

Pinatas by Confetti System

As seen on Cupcakes&Cashmere

Thank you Confetti System. You just ruined my future birthday. Now, I know I have a Snickers around here somewhere...

I wish I was a rebel

2011-02-08T08:01:00.000-08:00

But I'm not. Sometimes I dress like one, but I don't think that counts. Its a good thing then that my inkling to go all rebel can be appeased visually through the release of Swiss photographer Karlheinz Weinberger's second book entitled, appropriately, Rebel Youth. The book, released by Rizzoli, will feature photographs of the Swiss and German 'Halbstarker', gangs of rebel youths influenced by the rebel American culture in the 50's, 60's and 70's.

Halbstarker is literally translated to mean 'Half-strong'. I love that term, rebels as half-strongs. As if their full form hasn't been fully realized yet. The idea that a person progresses to a full strength, and the rebel, the youth, is only half way there. Interesting.

Lone Star Camp, Gossau ZH, 1967

Photo by Karlheinz Weinberger

Courtesy of Another Magazine

So I guess skateboards are in...

2011-02-08T07:40:00.000-08:00

Lady GaGa in the latest issue of Purple magazine

Photo shot by Terry Richardson, courtesy of myfashionpower

Rabanne on my mind

2011-02-07T20:41:00.000-08:00

The new creative director of Paco Rabanne has just been announced, congratulations to the Indian designer Manish Arora. It will be nice to see some new life injected into this iconic label. Perhaps we will be seeing the classic disk dresses re-inveted for the new bright young things. Looking forward to future lookbooks and runway shows!

Paco Rabanne Chainmail dress

As if the song wasn't enough

2011-02-07T20:33:00.000-08:00

I have been listening to Rihanna's new single 'S&M' on repeat for days. It fuels my walks to the bagel shop and my runs. It is my get-pumped-up-for-the-night anthem of the week. I do my makeup and strut around in way-to-high-for-me heels to it. I don't know why since her incident with Chris Brown awhile back all of her hits have had a slightly sadistic sexual undertone to them...but, I'm going with it. Check out the video, admire her eclectic wardrobe, incredible color combos and general awesomeness. And then notice the Prada furs I posted about recently. They look BOMB on her. You go girl...wow that just dated this post to about 1996.

Yes my name is Patsy

2011-02-07T19:53:00.000-08:00

Seeking Lonely Singles

2011-02-07T19:33:00.000-08:00

This cartoon by 'Mr. Fish' seen in Harpers reminds me of a conversation I recently had with my taxi driver about the future; a broad and ambiguous topic to embark on during a twenty minute ride to meet a few friends for a drink, I know. But you see, I am reading The Foundation trilogy by Isaacc Asimov, so weirdly all of my conversations seem to drift toward envisioning the earth decades down the road. He seemed to think lonely singles would sacrifice themselves to see what the final frontier held, I argued that a 'Trantor' like infrastructure would emerge in order to protect us from the depleting ozone layer. I think it's about time I put down the Sci-Fi for awhile. Oh hello, Vogue.

Harpers.org, January 28th 2011, Mr. Fish

In anticipation of the apartment I don't have yet...

2011-02-07T19:22:00.000-08:00

Lindell and Co. pillows! Could anything be more fun and colorful?

Lindell and Co pillows can be purchased on American Rag's website

I have a friend

2011-02-07T19:10:00.000-08:00

that these would look dynamite on. You know who you are...

Erickson Beamon Smoke and Mirrors Earrings

POISON

2011-02-07T19:03:00.000-08:00

TO MY CHECKBOOK. POISON I SAY.

This ain't no piece of garbage

2011-02-07T18:51:00.000-08:00

HERE is a Nytimes article about a controversial Vancouver initiative to curb HIV infection. The article includes a haunting photo slideshow.

Refreshing to see cities such as Vancouver using innovative, abeit controversial, methods to help those who may not be able to help themselves.

A dream come true

2011-02-07T18:08:00.000-08:00

Photo Courtesy of theselby

Once upon a time

2011-02-07T17:16:00.000-08:00

I found a genuine Paco Rabanne dress at a vintage stall in Paris and passed it up. File that under 'Stupid Life Decisions'. I blamed it on my inability to barter in French. Well they speak English at the Dover Street Market! Rabanne pairs with Comme des Garçon to release a mini collection of his iconic bags. Check it out.

The windows at Dover Street Market in London

If there is one thing my mom taught me

2011-02-07T16:51:00.000-08:00

It is how to dress for summer. I think she would approve of Christophe Lemaire's Spring/Summer 2011 collection. The guy is an old hat in the world of ready to wear, experience courtesy of Lacoste and Hermes. His new collection is sure to be a diamond. I can't wait until these pieces arrive at Lagarconne

Whyyyyyy...

2011-02-07T16:01:00.000-08:00

Do you have to make such beautiful clothes Sweden? Everytime I open my computer $$ leaves my wallet. STOP IT.

Hope Spring/Summer 2011

Like a fine wine

2011-02-07T15:49:00.000-08:00

These puppies get better with age...

Whyred Leeland Boot

CVS, I love you, but why can't you be from France

2011-02-07T13:07:00.000-08:00

My new favorite blog, Into The Gloss, has got me thinking a trip to Paris is necessary to update my beauty regime. CVS just cannot keep up with the beauty needs of the globetrotting, trendsetting youngsters these days. I remember the days when I was lusting over a minute bit as the blemish prone tween in a Clean and Clear commercial.

Favorites of Editors, Models and the Generally Fabulous include:

1) Caudalie Beauty Products
2) Embryolisse Products
3) Mountain Ocean Products

All products can be found on the shelves of Parisian drug stores everywhere. Except for Mountain Ocean, that shit is 100% Americana. Represent.

I can't ride horses, but...

2011-02-07T11:19:00.000-08:00

I love cowboy boots. Chloe Sevigny, I appreciate your attempt at cowboy footwear, but any real cowgirl knows to get their kicks at Lucchese.

Cowboy courtesy of Chloe Sevigny footwear Spring 2011

Cowboy courtesy of Lucchese classics. Mine are in the mail, excitement!

Cheap things make me want to buy more

2011-02-07T11:00:00.000-08:00

Isn't it just the best when you find something you love? And then when you find out that thing you love doesn't require selling your organs on the black market? Oh Zara, Lets run away together. I will hole up in a Spanish villa and make love to your lookbooks while gorging on tapas and wine.

Zara Spring 2011

I want to be Barefoot in the Hamptons too

2011-02-07T10:11:00.000-08:00

Mom and I are watching Barefoot Contessa on the food network while eating Barefoot Contessa Blueberry Struesel muffins mom made this morning.

Ina just confessed she has Chinese takeout on speed dial. LIAR. Don't shatter my dreams Ina. You know you are the female Dionysus of the food network.

Definition of Dionysus courtesy of Theoi.com: DIONYSOS (or Dionysus) was the great Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure and festivity.

David Bowie, do you own these?

2011-02-07T09:55:00.000-08:00

Because I think they would have been STELLAR in the Labryinth.

Photos courtesy of the innovative boutique Seven NYC, shoes courtesy of the innovative designer Raphael Young

Faux Schmaux

2011-02-07T09:38:00.000-08:00

Thank you Garance Dore for curing my Faux Fur Phobia.

From the Front Row… Prada | Garance Doré

Click on the link to see faux fur as envisioned by the masterminds at Prada

Admire the gloriousness of Prada's hot pink faux fur stole as seen on the ever glamorous

Anna Dello Russo captured by JakandJil blogger Tommy Ton.

Its not just because its easier to pee in urinals.

2011-02-07T09:28:00.000-08:00

Reasons why I wish I was a man:

Acne Fall 2011

Where is my helmet?

2011-02-07T09:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Celine,

You make me want to involve myself in extreme sports, and poker.

Celine Spring 2011 ad campaign.

God, or 7-11 Man, please send me a winning lottery ticket.

At this moment, I can only eat ice cream.

2011-02-07T09:12:00.000-08:00

Post op facial swelling got me looking like a real housewife. Post op viocodin got me feeling like one too.

oh tay tay.

pic courtesy of imbringingbloggingback.com