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Nov 27 2012
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Traveling, Uncategorized

My Suitcase Tortures Me

Day three of being home and yeah … I’m still staring at a half unpacked suitcase. In fact, it is lying in my hallway and has become this stationary beast that will probably cause me to one day break my face. Don’t worry, I made the effort to at least wash the worn clothes in the said suitcase, but besides that I just don’t have time for it and all the nonsense it comes with. Instead, I lie in bed, like I am right now, resenting the fact that I probably only wore 25% of the shit I packed, which leads me to this question … why am I the worst packer in the ENTIRE universe?

I wish it was like the old days where it was a natural thing for women to carry like 25 really fantastic suitcases with them while they traveled. Instead, you tell people you are checking ONE bag and you mine as well have told them that you spit on kittens, hate beer and don’t break for squirrels. My God. “Don’t you know the risks you take by checking a bag? And thinking of TSA scumbags fondling my intimates, ICK.” Really? Sure I hate paying that idiotic fee, but mama likes her options whilst traveling, so lay off, man.

In fact, with all of the dumb “As Seen on TV” shit that is out there, why hasn’t anyone found a contraption that could take your entire closet, suck it into a black hole-type device that would make it all fit in a normal size suitcase? Hmm? Again, as hard as I try, I can’t really anticipate what I’m going to wear three days from now, therefore I need options. Why? Because I wear things based on my mood. I could be feeling fat, bloated, skinny, happy, sad, angry, sassy … who the hell knows! I could potentially want to wear a muumuu or perhaps a skanky tight Herve Leger dress. Who the hell knows. Hence why I need my ENTIRE closet. But is that feasible? NOPE.

It is the “what ifs” that kill me. What if we go out to dinner? I’ll need a dress. What if I don’t like that dress and wish I had the other dress? I’ll bring the other dress, too. Wonder if we go swimming? I’ll need a bathing suit. Wonder if we go to a black tie affair? Fine, I’ll bring my ball gown skirt and elbow length gloves. I mean, what? My mind goes to crazytown places because I’m desperate to be prepared.

Whilst packing for the trip I went on last week, I went back and edited a lot of stuff out of my suitcase to make it all fit. Did I say to myself while on my trip, “man … do I wish I didn’t take out [fill in the blank]? You are sure as shit I did … and I kicked myself for it. I would have rather packed a bigger suitcase and brought my whole life than had to sit in a foreign place without the proper clothing options. Instead I had to repurpose numerous looks, mixing and matching, praying the people I was with wouldn’t realize I had been pulling a clothing Groundhog’s Day.

Really, the only time you are safe when packing is if you are going to a tropical place. Why? Because A. Resort wear is FOUL … no need to bother yourself with it. B. You are in a bathing suit the whole time. C. If you aren’t in a bathing suit, you are in a dress that should be sassy and small … therefore not taking much thought or room in your suitcase D. If you don’t think you will wear your bathing suit the whole time you are a damn fool … seriously. But if you are going to a place where the temperature is iffy (like where I went), then that is where the closet suck black hole-type contraption would come in real handy.

So my thoughts on packing for a non-tropical trip … ahem:

1. Bring a lot of neutrals that you can mix and match. This saved my ass. Because the temperature was so up and down, I was able to repurpose a lot of items with different pants or skirts without people thinking I was a dirty hot mess.

2. Plan your outfits … if you can. I personally can’t do this, but you can at least guesstimate how many outfits you will need during each day. And edit, edit, edit. Did you bring five white T-shirts? Seriously … remove four. One is more than enough. Do you really need seven tank tops in different colors? Try to plan for each mood … if possible. A little conservative, a little sassy, a little skanky, a little profesh (depending on what kind of trip it is, of course).

3. Don’t let the “what ifs” get to you. Take a deep breath and think realistically. Will you potentially go to dinner at night? Will you frequent the beach? How drunk will you be getting? Will there be any potential suitors to impress? Check the normal temperatures (during the day and at night). Keep your audience and atmosphere in mind. If you aren’t going to P.Diddy’s White Party … then don’t pack the skanky all-white dress. If Prince William didn’t invite you to the grand ball … nix the ball gown jazz. Seriously, I know … I get the last-minute … “BUT I NEED TO BRING THIS“ … spazz out. But get yourself under control. Slap yourself across the face or something … get it together, man!

4. Bigger IS better. I’m all for checking bags. Why? Because I hate bastards that bring suitcases on a plane then take FOR-EV-AH to put the damn thing in the overhead compartment. Shit man, it’s hot, my bag is heavy, I just want to get to my seat and start drinking (you know … because flying scares me), and because then I don’t have size constraints. I can bring as much stuff as I want and therefore will let the “what ifs” haunt some other poor soul.

So there you have it, folks. Take it from me, packing is not an easy thing. I’m tortured by thoughts of forgetting something, missing something, taking too much or not enough. At the end of the day, I pray someone invents the closet black-hole so I can just suck it up, put it in my suitcase and have everything I need … and potentially someone to carry it for me as well … because that thing would be heavy, and I’m straight up lazy.

Word.

 

 

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Sep 18 2012
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Donna Karan, Uncategorized

Donna Karan And I TOTES Have The Same Life

So we can all agree that Donna Karan is fashion royalty … she is a fashion wise man. But after reading about her “average day” in the September issue of Bazaar Magazine … I found the point was truly proven that good things come to those who work their asses off. Sure, people put things of this nature in magazines so we can take a glimpse into the lives of the rich and famous … but sometimes while reading like this … I can’t help but laugh … perhaps this is how my green envy shows its fab face.

But let’s take a glimpse at me, a writer, an editor, an average 20-something’s day, compared to the very glamorous and chic Donna Karan’s day … ahem:

7 a.m.:Donna Karan: Brushes teeth, drinks hot water/lemon … not knowing what day it is (due to jet lag back and forth from L.A. to Haiti).

7 a.m.: Me: Alarm has been going off since 6:30 … realized I could definitely sleep for another 15 minutes, hit snooze once again and dozes back off.

7:30 a.m.: Donna Karan: Does yoga/pilates with an instructor who comes to her personal exercise studio in her house overlooking Central Park.

7:30 a.m.: Me: Shit … hit snooze one too many times, going to be late … need to haul ass into hair and makeup (by hair and makeup I mean turning on my flat-iron and throwing something on my face to make me not look like death).

9 a.m.: Donna Karan: Hot bath, steam, oils … she likes her mornings to drag out.

9 a.m.: Me: Either hauling ass into work, praying I don’t get a speeding ticket or just setting up shop at my desk and pouring myself a glass of hot black tea.

9:30 a.m. Donna Karan: Eats breakfast (egg white omelet with spinach), drinks green juices, touches base with daughter, starts making work calls, throws on bodysuit, skinny pant, ballet slipper, and a short leather jacket (she is a uniform dresser). If she has a photo shoot, she’ll have her hair and makeup team come to her apartment to help get glammed.

9:30 a.m.: Me: Already dove head first into my day. My hot black tea is sitting beside me, I have the Verve Pandora station playing in my ears, my red pen is in my hand and I’m responding to emails.

10 a.m.: Donna Karan: She doesn’t rock makeup on an average day. Her staff packs her lunch in little coolers. Looks at the to-do list, starts texting. She’ll write speeches for things like the Clinton Global Initiative in Chicago and Barbra Stresisand’s charity concert in Malibu or do interviews whilst in the car with driver.

10 a.m.: Me: Yep … still editing. I’ll probably get up and put more hot water in my tea. Go to meetings. Reevaluate my to-do list. Write a little. Start thinking about lunch as my stomach most certainly will start grumbling. Converse with co-workers, answer text messages. Skip numerous annoying songs on my Pandora station. And edit, edit, edit. (Yawn.)

1 p.m.: Donna Karan: If she can squeeze it in, she’ll go get acupuncture (what?) or get vitamin B shots.

1 p.m.: Me: Time for me to get out of the office. Will wander into town, get something to eat, enjoy the weather. Perhaps do errands, visit the cobbler who does fantastic work on all my broke shoes, bring things to the dry cleaners … you know things I don’t have time to do … ever.

2 p.m.: Donna Karan: Now starts the day, first meeting will go into the second meeting, which will go into the third. She reviews retail, web, the foundation or the collection. There is no average day. Some days it is turning her apartment into a design studio to enjoy her granddaughter’s birthday, or perhaps a trip to Haiti whether giving Reiki at hospitals or working with artisans, or perhaps it is a nice silent yoga retreat.

2 p.m.: Me: This time of day is pretty routine. Same things I’ve mentioned above (yawn) … although now I’m contemplating happy hour.

7:30 p.m.: Donna Karan: Cocktail parties, meetings, dinners. Whatever she is wearing goes right into evening with a shoe change or just removing her jacket. She drinks vodka and club soda because it isn’t fattening. Where ever she is, she is there with a purpose. Then she’ll stop to snuggle with the family.

7:30: Me: I sometimes/or usually have a bag with me that has “just in case” outfits, makeup, shoe options … because God knows where I’ll end up. I’m either at happy hour with co-workers, happy hour with friends, dinner with friends, drinking wine with mother, but usually at home in my bed or desk writing the genius that is Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra. My drink of choice is vodka and club … so cheers DK.

Midnight: Donna Karan: She is in bed, reviewing magazines and going through updates from her office. She’ll review paperwork, fabrics, and ad campaigns. She has hypoallergenic pillows and a black cashmere spread. And she truly enjoys having a foot massage before bed.

Midnight: Me: ZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzzz I’m usually comatose by now. My sheets are from TJ Maxx and my cat is probably sleeping on my pillow snoring with me.

So there you have it. My life absolutely seems like a yawn-fest compared to the fabulous and wonderful Donna Karan’s. But like I said … good and fantastic things come to those who work their asses off and this is just more inspiration for me to end my fab days with a foot massage whenever the hell I please.

Much praise to DK.

 

 

 

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Sep 10 2012
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Uncategorized

I Would Sell My Mother For Marc Jacobs

Okay … some of you probably GASPED when you read my headline, but let me explain. My mother and I have a joint obsession for Marc Jacobs. And since his Spring 2013 runway show was this evening, I told her I would kindly sell her on the black market to be able to see it live … and she kindly told me she would sell me on the black market for a pair of pilgrim shoes from his fall 2012 line. So there. I’m not THAT much of a heinous daughter.

So I realize I haven’t said much about spring 2013 fashion week … until now. Sigh … I just watched the Marc Jacobs show on my computer like a complete nerd. My cat was on my bed purring, I was in sweats and a hoodie … with my hood up appropriately sipping Emergen-C and pretending it was a martini because I feel like shit. I mean, doesn’t EVERYONE watch fashion shows like this!?

But my GOD. Marc. Jacobs. If anyone knows me at all or even a little, or actually if you’ve seen me from a far a couple of times … you can tell I’m obsessed with black and white. My closet is 85% black and white, everything decor-wise is black and white … I live in a black and white world and I likes it. And Marc birthed black and white for spring 2013 and I am just beside myself. The whole thing was like 1960′s mod beach meets Manhattan.

Exposed hip bones, tall girls wearing flats and flats ONLY, flouncey skirts, black and white striped, well … everything, dress/shirts that barely covered the model’s asses, exaggerated collars and bare mid-drifts (and did I catch a vintage Micky Mouse sweater?) … pure excellence. For me it isn’t just about the clothes when watching a show … it is the music, the lighting, the models. And these girls were super awkward and creepy, the music was mod-trancey by The Fall and … wow yeah … I’m in heaven. Literally my heat has an irregular beat right now.

Ps. I always wonder if these models, as they are strutting down the Marc Jacobs catwalk, who probably just got to spend the past couple of hours watching him and his minions run around backstage, think to themselves, “holy shit … I’m walking in a Marc Jacobs fashion show right now. Literally. This is happening. Act natural.” Yeah … if that were me I would be screaming at the top of my lungs in my head, “OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG.” But I’m also a fashion nerd so … yeah. Back to sipping my Emergen-C martini. Hood up.

Now behold … some of my mother-selling-worthy looks:

Update: Literally as I speak my mother is cutting her hair like one of the Marc models. #Obsessed

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Sep 08 2012
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Model Industry, Uncategorized

Carbs and Candy and Cocktails … OH MY!

I’m in no way, shape or form model material. I may be the right height, but if I had to not eat carbs, chocolate and refrain from cocktails I would probably start foaming at the mouth and viscously attacking innocent civilians on the street. Real talk. For example, to be a model you need to have self-control whilst walking through the Halloween candy aisle at the grocery store. Me … well I find myself purchasing extra-large Reese’s in Pumpkin form because I A. love chocolate and B. love peanut butter and C. love Halloween … duh.

But I just read a very disturbing article on Refinery29.com about the crazytown things models do or get talked into doing to stay thin. Starving yourself is apparently soooo early 2000’s. Instead, this is what is en vogue … ugh:

Modeling Agents Pushing Girls to do Cocaine and Speed: What? How do these agents live with themselves? Not only are you telling girls it’s okay to do drugs for the sake of their careers, that … let’s be honest, won’t last for more than five years, unless you are the born again Kate Moss, only to turn them into washed up drug addicts. People need to understand that modeling isn’t a forever thing, but a drug problem or dying due to drugs is. #NotWorthIt

500 Calorie Plans: I know hoagies that have more than 500 calories! I really can’t comprehend, my brain just doesn’t understand. I would need to basically choose between the beer I drink and a sandwich as my “food/drink” of choice for the day … and that is it. No piece of candy to make me feel better when I’m having a shit day, no large pizza all to myself when I’m PMS. Nothing. And this is where I would go on my murderous rampage.

Eating Cotton Balls: Do people hear themselves when they say, “yeah I eat cotton balls to curb my appetite”? Is the fashion world so diluted that a statement like that actually sounds normal like, “yeah … I jogged two miles before work yesterday.” I literally would be vomming cotton everywhere. Is cotton calorie-free? I do believe sticks of gum are calorie-free too … just sayin’ … you have other options, ladies.

Getting Injections: IN-JECT-IONS! Girls, unless a man or woman who has a distinguished medical school degree is holding a needle in order to give me some sort of shot to cure me of something and or give me some sort of vaccination … then eff off. In what world is getting a shot in your THYROID to speed up your metabolism a good idea? The answer is in no world, not even in fake, made up worlds. So next time you feel the need to do this, I want you to do the following: Smack the needle out of the “doctors” hand (and I’m using quotes because it is hard to believe any respectable doctor would ACTUALLY give models shots in their thyroid to speed up their metabolisms … but that’s just me), smack the “doctor” across the face, scream, “NOT UP IN HERE!” then catwalk out of that bitch.

Everyone wants to be thin and everyone wants designer clothes …myself included. I’m one of those girls who is always asking friends and family if I look skinny. Sad but true fact about yours truly. But being able to see your bones isn’t chic. Getting shots, doing drugs and eating things that shouldn’t be eaten … isn’t chic.

You know what is chic? Being at a healthy weight. Enjoying everything in moderation. Having a little junk in your trunk. I loathe her for numerous reasons, but look at Kim Kardashian. Definitely not a stick figure, but she models and is GORG … I’ll give her that much. And if you hate Kim Kardashian and don’t want to hear this nonsense, well how about this: Marilyn Monroe. She was a size 12. Not 2. 12. Chew on that, models of America.

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Jan 07 2012
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Uncategorized

Black Out

So far I am not impressed with this whole being 25 thing. Literally since I’ve turned the age page, I’ve had nothing but the most intense migraine headache I’ve ever had. In fact, this is the only migraine I’ve ever had. Heinous. I feel for everyone who gets them regularly, I really do.

For the past three days I’ve done nothing but sit in darkness, or try to sit in darkness … which is extremely hard when my iPhone is continuously attached to my hand 24/7, I’m a writer who needs to be writing … on a computer, and there is a Kardashian marathon on E! All of which have extremely bright screens that feel like daggers going into my eyes.

I’m literally posting this because I wanted to express to you all that I am indeed NOT a chicken and will not be getting my ears pierced this weekend due to the fact that my head has been in ridiculous amounts of pain for the past three days and I feel like if I inflict more pain onto myself, I may go insane. But next weekend … it … is … ON and I’m pumped about it!

In the meantime, since looking at the computer screen is making me nauseous, I will be crawling back into my dark hole that I know all too well at this point until this nonsense passes. See you all in the light once again … hopefully sooner rather than later.

God speed.

Ps. Face masks are so hot right now.

Jan 04 2012
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Uncategorized

A Little Birthday Present To Myself

So today is my birthday. Yep, I’ve crossed into a new quarter of my life as a 25-year-old. Yikes. It is kind of the first birthday when I feel, you know … old. But according to Jay-z, 30 is the new 20 so 25 must be the new 15 … except I can drink and do whatever the hell I want … word.

But anyways, every year I like to treat myself to something that is just for me … you know have a little moment of selfishness. And before I tell you what I’ve decided to do for myself this year, I need to admit something. I am 25 today … and I’ve never had my ears pierced. I can hear the gasps all around the Internet right now … yes, ’tis true.

I was absolutely terrified to get it done as a child, and my mom never pressured me about it. In fact I remember my sister used to always take me to the mall to get them done and the minute I would get to the piercing place I would just be like, “SHE’S NOT MY MOTHER!” and run away in fear. I love how people just assume every girl has their ears pierced. In fact people are shocked when I tell them I’m a piercing virgin. But I got to a certain point and age in my life when it was no longer a thought and I just looked at the situation as one less accessory I have to buy and or worry about.

So what made me change my mind after all of these years? Well, I’m no longer scared. In fact, I got a tattoo when I was 18 … I think I am more than capable of tolerating a seconds worth of pain … hopefully. And quite frankly, the older I get … the more I lust after fantastic earrings. I love the huge, obnoxious, chunky earrings that look like chandeliers … and have decided I need them.

So this weekend I will march myself to the piercing pagoda … or where ever kids these days are getting their ears pierced … and get ‘er done. I’m not going to lie, there is a decent amount of apprehension running through my veins, but that is why God invented liquor, right? Perhaps that is why people say you should get it done when you are younger so you don’t have to take shots before you go to the mall to get pierced … hmm.

Well, stay tuned for updates after the big event this weekend! Wish me luck!

Dec 28 2011
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New Year's 2012, Uncategorized

New Year’s Eve: The Ultimate Amateur Hour

I know I’m not the only one when I say that New Year’s Eve might be the most overrated night of the year. It’s amateur hour for those people who really only like to let loose and get crunk P.Diddy style on Thanksgiving Eve and New Year’s Eve. I’ll speak for those of us who like to “let loose” at LEAST once a week when I say please stay at least 10 paces back at all times. It’s nothing personal, we just don’t need you spilling your cranberry and vodka drink all over our shoes, while you slur to your girlfriends about what an asshole your ex is and what effing great friends they are, for real, for real … kay thanks.

New Year’s has turned into prom all over again except it is legal for you to drink and happens every freaking year. Ridiculous amounts of money are spent on a dress you probably will only wear once, shoes and accessories for the dress, and with the outfit comes the desire to get your hair and makeup did. All to pay a cabbie ridiculous amounts of money to cart your drunk ass to and from a stupid bar you are paying 10 times the price to get in to just to say you were ”somewhere cool,” when it is usually FREE any other night. Nights like these I wish I owned a dive bar so I could charge dumb people $100 to drink watered down cocktails until 12 a.m.

For a while I thought finding the right dress would get me in the New Year’s spirit, but I was sorely mistaken. I think I reviewed every dress under $100 on ShopStyle.com and then I remembered how infuriating it is to shop for a dress online. It doesn’t help that every store looks like they got hit with a glitter bomb right now, so I don’t even bother with malls. Don’t get me wrong, I live and die for sequins, but too much of one thing is never good. If there could be a decent amount of sequined clothing throughout the year, I would be content … but to walk into a wall of multi-colored glitter frocks … all in itty-bitty sizes mind you … is a bit overwhelming. I did the whole glittery dress thing last New Year’s because it was something I always wanted to do … and quite frankly I felt like a busted backup dancer for Beyonce. In fact, I was drunkenly doing the “Single Ladies” dance all night making fun of myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t be sitting on my couch watching Carson Daily pretend he is Dick Clark as I snuggle with my “I Heart Cats” blanket knitting. I plan on going out with my dear friends to a small irish pub that you don’t need to sell your soul and empty your bank account to get into and I know I have a closet full of skirts and dresses that I can style up to “New Year’s” standards. In a perfect world I would rock a sexed up tuxedo with a low-cut shirt underneath the jacket, slicked back pony tail, red lip and a fierce pair of stilettos … you know, very Chanel. Ahh, one can dream.

All I know so far is that I will just be sipping on normal, city-priced cocktails and welcoming 2012 with the people I care about. Will it be crowded? Sure, but at least I won’t have to get water with a splash of vodka then immediately get back in line to get another one only to see a girl wearing the same pink sequin dress as me, ugh which will CLEARLY ruin my night. Just kidding, that would never happen … I would never be caught dead in pink.

So everyone, STOP FREAKING OUT. No New Year’s is perfect, no outfit is perfect and no venue is perfect, in fact … it actually is just like another other Saturday night if you ask me. So relax, just look fabulous in something you own and enjoy the company that surrounds you. Word.

Dec 08 2011
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Uncategorized

Confessions Of A Style Site Addict

Hello, my name is Kate and I subscribe to waaaaay too many style and sale related email blasts. It honestly is starting to get comical. When I wake up in the morning I turn off my iPhone alarm and check my personal email only to find like over 10 emails. Are they work related? No. Are they from family or friends? Nope. It is more like five LivingSocial deals, five Groupons and sporadic, “Kate, Barneys is showcasing Missoni today!” and “So and so is following you on Pinterest!” Every morning, I’m haunted by great deals present and ghosts of my past purchases.

I make it a point to always check the “no thanks, I do not want to receive your annoying email blasts just because I bought a T-shirt” button right before I make a purchase or sign up for something. But somehow, I’m always receiving emails from these people about nonsense I don’t care about. Conspiracy, I think yes. Like for example, I bought my mom a purse from Barneys last year (I know I’m the best daughter in the world), politely clicked the “please don’t torture me with your emails of pretty clothing I can’t afford” button, and yet … daily … I get torture some emails. Look, please leave me alone until the day when I can actually get excited over the fact that a Chanel bag is marked down to $4,500 instead of $5,000, kay thanks.

Over the past two years, I have fallen down several “style site” rabbit holes. Esty, Pinterest, Gilt Groupe, Barneys, Amazon, Fab.com, Covet, Rue La La, Polyvore, Refinery29, Shopstyle, Send the Trend and probably numerous others (I have sick issues, right?) People send me recommendations to join these sites and I accept like a damn fool only to have my inbox flooded with so many style options, opinions, articles and sales that my mind gets so boggled I don’t even know where to find my sanity. The sad part is, I NEVER go on these sites. Maybe once every two weeks, if I’m lucky.

I don’t even know how I ended up on some of them, like Send the Trend, where the hell did you come from? Did I get style roofied or are people signing me up without my knowledge? You know what, there needs to be like a Kayak-esque site for style sites so I can get all my information in one place so I don’t turn into a recluse who spends her time feeding cats and scrolling through these sites with no friends, social life or job. Someone kindly get on that, Zuckerberg, I’m lookin’ at you bud.

And LivingSocial and Groupon, well I do that to myself straight up. I’m signed up in three different locations because I live one place, that is close to a huge city, and work in a completely different area. But sometimes I don’t care if 500 viles of Botox are 55% off, okay? I’ve received a bazillion deals, contemplated buying millions and bought … yep … ONE. Why don’t I unsubscribe? Because I secretly like being tortured by them … and I like the option of one day being spontaneous and getting a 53% off hot stone massage somewhere.

So at the end of the day, what really revs my engine when I see it waiting for me in my inbox is Fab.com. The name says it all because it is fab … .com. Yes, some of the stuff is crazytown expensive, but most of it is really affordable, one-of-a-kind treasures. It is like a club you have to be invited to, otherwise you cannot participate … but I love it.

The rest of it, well … I’m still unsubscribing … or so I think.

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Nov 22 2011
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Uncategorized

What Would You Buy …

… for $2,000?

Now I’m not saying you have $2,000 to go on a shopping spree and buy whatever you want. I’m asking if you could spend $2,000 on ONE piece, what would it be? These types of questions arise when you have a mother that works at Salon Shoes in Nordstrom like I do. Not only does she keep me updated on the latest trends out of the holy grail, a.k.a. the “Look Book,” but she also entertains me with fantastic stories of wealthy women with taste, and wealthy women with absolutely no taste coming in and dropping close to $2,000 on a pair of shoes. The returns, the drama, the snobs, the friendly faces … the woman could seriously write a book on her encounters in the world of Nordstrom.

But what I can’t seem to get over is spending that much on an actual pair of shoes. I think, personally, my limit would be $600. When I wear shoes, I wear them. Perhaps it is how I walk or how much I walk, but when I get finished with a pair of heels, they are scuffed, worn down, heel exposed, clinking clanking dirty pieces of crap that don’t owe me a dime. I realize if I were to buy a pair of shoes that were over $1,000 I would probably be more delicate with them, but would I really? I think that would mean I would have to build a special, air tight add-on in my closet for them to live in a glass case where I would just stare at them, perhaps throw them on to do my laundry or something … but in Jesus Christ’s name, I would never let them hit asphalt … EVER.

So after a night of drooling over Marc Jacobs bags on the Nordstrom website, praying Santa would be kind enough to drop one of his fantastic quilted bags underneath my Christmas tree, I asked myself, if I had the said fictitious $2,000 to play with, and I could only buy one item, what would be it? I’ve decided, it absolutely would not be a pair of shoes. But it would be either a coat or a hand bag.

Why a purse and or a coat? Well, coats are expensive. Let me rephrase that, a GOOD coat is expensive. But don’t go for the trendy styles that you will want to take a flame to the next year. A classic coat is quite easy to come across, and those are the ones worth the money and will last you forever … with a little TLC of course. I bought a Laundry coat, maybe four years ago or longer, and to this day it looks brand new and still very much in style. In fact I don’t see it ever going out of style. Unless I’m going to turn into that woman who thinks I’m incredibly fashionable but in reality stuck in the 2010′s, the 10′s (what the hell are we calling this decade?) like so many woman are stuck in the 80′s.

And handbags, well, they are my weakness. And unfortunately I have terribly expensive taste. If I was staring at 10 handbags all in the price range of $20-$2,000, I would absolutely pick the $2,000 bag without even trying. Why? Because, like my mother has always said, “I was cursed with good taste, like her.” Again, don’t go trendy, go classic, like a quilted bag, like a black quilted Chanel handbag, my ultimate fantasy in life. If you ever want to buy my love or get me to do something that you know I would NEVER do, buy me this handbag. I’ll be yours, always and forever. In fact, I would happily sell my soul to you for it, yes, I’m that serious.

Some may buy jewelry, but really expensive jewelry tends to make me a bit nervous. The most expensive piece of jewelry I wear every day is a David Yurman ring, and when I first got it, I rarely took it out of its protective case for fear I would lose it. Now it is just apart of me, but still, I have enough things in my life that give me anxiety, I don’t need an expensive accessory to add to it. God help me if I ever get engaged.

As crazy as it sounds, this is an extremely fun game to play while surfing the web at night. Take a break from shopping for others this holiday season and play. Sure, it can be depressing, looking at all of these fabulous things you can’t afford. But for me, it makes me excited to have something to look forward to, to knowing one day I will, hopefully, be able to buy myself the finer things in life.

We used our imaginations so much as kids, so why can’t we now?

 

Oct 25 2011
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BA … … … NANAS!

Okay because I need a break from this massive project that I am working on that in no way shape or form is related to Life Sucks in a Strapless Bra, I need to admit that A. Yes, I am watching the Rachel Zoe Project whilst working and B. I am absolutely obsessed with her, but mostly with her resort collection.

I don’t care what people say, Rachel Zoe is badass for numerous reasons. I love her eye, I love her style, I love how she can walk into a room full of shiny things and couture and throw together a ridiculous look while I would be in a corner hyperventilating over said shiny things, I love her catchphrases and good GOD I love her collection (and this episode is making me love it even more).

Sometimes it is hard to fall in love with looks on the rack, because to tell you the truth, metal, wood or even plastic hangers do nothing for a garment … except maybe give you weird marks in the shoulders of the piece. But seeing a piece in a photo shoot with a concept and styling behind it brings it to life and makes you want to say, “Hey self, you could totally rock that white jumper with a pair of six inch neon blue pumps with gold accents!” Just seeing it on the hanger makes you have to think and imagine and honestly … who the hell has time to do that nowadays (except freaks like me who actually enjoy doing stuff like that).

So yeah, when I heard RZ was pulling together her own collection, my mind immediately went to like a trashy, gross QVC collection with undesirable pieces with annoying women talking about them while Rachel Zoe shows up for a hot 10 minutes to make an appearance to associate her face with the brand. Like do I really want to buy a clothing line from a reality star? Nope. But this is stylist turned reality star, so I suppose this is different.

I actually got to see her collection up close and personal in Bloomingdales in NYC this past summer, and honestly I, in the words of the great one herself, DIE over every single piece. The price tag … well, that is what I had a problem with. I don’t think she has ANY room pricing her clothing that high. I get it, you are the shizzle of styling and you have a fabulous eye. But honey, your clothes may absolutely look like Halston and be made for the runway … but at the end of the day, the women watching your show … aren’t your clients. They can’t afford couture or designer prices … they want obtainable and chic. They want the Rachel Zoe style, but at a Zara/H&M/TopShop price.

But, I’ll give it to her, every piece is absolutely stunning and really one of a kind. I’m a huge old school Halston fan and she really has a fantastic way of bringing back a super chic, retro vibe to the fashion scene. I know she has a love for vintage clothing and couture, and instead of us having to dig to find that diamond in the rough, she kind of hands them to us.

Alright, so price points bad, clothes good … the typical story of my fashion obsession. More fabulous fashion shoots, less babies. Fingers crossed for a Rachel Zoe line for H&M or Macys … I see it happening.

Anyways back to the grind I go!

Ps. Baby Skylar has a more bitching closet than I do. FML.

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