Screw Snow, My Mind Is In Paris

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As much as I love the non-humid, great hair days, the reason to stay in bed or on your couch and snuggle, and the perfect excuse to not have to exist with the general population … fuck this winter, pardon my French.

You know what? I’m not even going to waste your time discussing how “snowmaggedon” didn’t show its face, because if you are anything like me, you are so exhausted of people bitching and complaining and dissecting the weather that all you want to do is shove two thick down pillows over your ears to drown out the sorrow.

And as I was trying not to slip and die on my way to the train, and thinking about the snow day that could have been, I decided, enough! Enough bitching. Enough complaining. Why not transport myself to a better place, with better people, and better clothing, and better champagne? Oh yeah … I’m talking¬† Spring 2015 Couture Fashion Week.

If these images below don’t get your engine revved for spring, then you are probably dead … or soulless … either or. It’s truly so mystical and dreamy and … well … anything goes. What in life gets better? I’m beyond in to it. So fuck snow, or lack their off, fuck the frigid temps … my mind is in Paris, if you need me or it.













Aura Tout Vu

Aura Tout Vu

AuraToutVu2(All photos from

Mmmm Couture

6.nocrop.w840.h1330I want to go to Paris. And not so I can fall in love under the Eiffel Tower, or stand in the ridic line at the Louvre to not see the Mona Lisa, or wear a dumbass beret and really scream, “HEY … I’M MURICAN!” No. I want to dive in the sea of overflowing fashion that is happening right now. I want to bathe in it. I want to be injected with it. Oh yeah …¬† I said it.

Ladies, New York Fashion Week is amateur hour compared to the Paris Couture shows. You don’t see the swarms of fashion bloggers from all over the country taking selfies out front of the shows. Or assholes like me who just stand out front of Lincoln Center ticketless and hoping to see a cool famous person. Nope. This is strictly for the big wigs. The people who truly respect and want to soak in every ounce of the beauty and art that these shows have to offer. I’m not hating on my fellow fashion bloggers, but even I know I don’t belong there. Some things should remain sacred, ya know?

So instead I sat on my bed last night, flipping through the slideshows on The Cut and pretending I was sitting front row next to Anna Wintour and Grace Coddington trying to act cool but secretly freaking out inside. Everything was so beautiful, so abstract, and some so simple you would sell a loved one just to hold it (trust me, I’ve contemplated it).

Life just doesn’t get any better than couture. It just doesn’t. We forget sometimes because there is truly so much crap out there. Beautiful crap … but crap. But when you see couture it just like a breath of fresh air, like “holy lord, I’m wearing trash bags and paying too much money for them. What am I doing with my life.”

I’ll let you decide which is your favorite, but I completely fell head over heals for Dior’s show and would put on one of those coats in this heatwave happily and twirl around. Hell, I would probably live in it like a cartoon character who only rocks one outfit. So if you would excuse me, I’m going to go back to daydreaming that I’m in Paris for the couture shows and not sweating on the subway with the commoners. K, bye. Now enjoy some of the pieces I’m currently drooling over.










On Aura Tout Vu


Giambattista Valli






*All photos were taken from The Cut.

Where Has All The Cou-ture Gone …

So I’ve been on a bit of a Sex and the City kick recently. Maybe it is because if you have the E! Channel or the Style Channel you are bound to stumble upon a marathon. Or perhaps I watch it because I praise the church of Carrie Bradshaw and pray that she will give me a sign. Or perhaps it is because I adore the fashion. Or perhaps it is because I don’t have to watch it with the volume turned down to like one so my mom wouldn’t hear it (like back in the eighth grade days … good times). Who the hell knows.

But I had a thought as I found myself, for the millionth time, drooling over her fake closet that was clearly too small to hold all of that goodness. Where the hell did all the clothes go? The show ended in what, 2004? Sarah Jessica Parker has moved on to making extremely bad movies. The other three well … I think I saw one in a commercial for something or other a couple of months ago. But all of that couture, Dior, Jimmy Choo, Chanel, YSL … when the set faded to black and Carrie’s fake brownstone apartment got broken up into a million tiny pieces … what happened to the clothes?

I was watching an episode during the Adien part deux years and saw her walking down the street with a great Dior bag. Years later, a lot of years later as a matter of fact, and that bag is still fantastic. But for the love of God, I really want to know where that bag is now. Did some lucky production assistant get to take it home? Does SJP have it or one of those other broads? Perhaps Patricia Field has a shrine to the Sex and the City days and keeps it there safe and protected. Or did the unspeakable happen. Did it get tossed away for a better day? It pains me to think these thoughts.

See, when I’m done with clothing … I throw them in a trash bag and donate them. Then again, my clothes aren’t couture. I pretend but alas … they are not. I could never fathom throwing couture into a trash bag and donating it. Then again, people who have couture probably dispose of it in a classier way then in a Hefty trash bag. Perhaps because I can’t afford couture and the thought of how much I would have to work and save to invest in a piece only to donate it for free would send chills trickling down my spin. It might sound shallow … but I mean come on. It is a dog eat dog world out there.

I mean the “Hello Lover,” Louboutins that I think made Loubs Loubs. The Oscar de la Renta pink dress from The Russian, the Chanel jacket she made Adien swear on when she told him about Miranda being pregnant, Carrie’s fur coat from the beginning of it all… I know I may sound redundant here … but seriously, what the hell happened to it all? Dorothy’s ruby slippers are in the Smithsonian for Christ’s sake … are the Loubs there as well?

Listen, as annoying as it may be to watch Carrie Bradshaw lead this ridiculously unrealistic lifestyle, the show is iconic. Our children’s, children’s, children will probably watch it. Why? Because it is an institution for women … and fashion. The fact that I can watch this show … some nine years later and still get fashion inspiration from her … says something.

All I’m saying is … where did the fashion go? Patricia Field … if you can hear me. Drop a sister a line and let me know the couture is safe and sound.

Mmmm Fall …

We are in the fiery pits of summer hell right now people. I mean yay, summer, carefree, vacations … woo … but for real, having to function in over 90 degree heat everyday while trying to maintain a professional and chic look for work … I’m just over it. And as I got out of my car late the other night, I noticed a familiar breeze in the air with a twinge of a chill. Heaven can you hear me?

And with fall comes so many fabulous things to look forward to! Leaves changing, new fall wardrobes, the September issue of Vogue … NEW YORK CITY FASHION WEEK! And literally I am one of those freaks that considers the September issue of most magazines, W, Bazaar and Vogue mostly, as bibles. So when was awesome enough to give us a little sneak preview of the fabulous fall fashion ads from all the greatest designers, and after I stopped drooling all over my Macbook, I had to share with you the things that are making me survive these too hot to function summer days.

So behold the ads so far that I fancy the most and find fabulously bazaar featuring some of my most favorite designers and all the clothing I can’t really even afford to look at.

First of all it is Marc Jacobs. Second of all he is FINALLY making polka dots happen in such a major way. Who cares if a cracked out Helena Bonham Carter is his muse? Give me those gloves and that hat IMMEDIATELY.

Lagerfeld, Lagerfeld, Lagerfeld. This ad says nothing about the clothing, nothing about Chanel … in fact it kind of makes you want to go “what the eff,” but it is art and you have to bow down to it. Yes Lagerfeld, whatever you say master, I will dress like a mouse and hang outside of a photo booth as long as it is made by Chanel. What? You want to draw nonsensical words all over my face? Yes, master.

Alexander McQueen, God rest his soul and God bless Sarah Burton for kicking ass and taking names. These ads are so beyond powerful and disturbing. Due to the extreme success of the MoMA exhibit, I think we have to view the McQueen brand as art in fashion form. I could literally stare at these ads for days.

Tom Ford, this make up is tranny fierce, and I’m not even going to apologize for it. I was just thinking today about how I desperately need a striking, fire engine, come to bed red lip stick in my life. I’m also quite excited for all of these solid popping colors for the fall. Perhaps this is the fall where I don’t just wear minimalistic colors? I mean seriously, nothing is worse than people thinking they need to match the foliage outside … ick. Nope, just kidding, fall themed sweaters and turtlenecks … THAT would be the worst thing one could think of.

Holy lord, sign me up immediately for wearing proper hats in the fall. The idea makes my toes tingle, seriously. So Sportmax, I will literally take a piece of everything in this ad. But ladies, honestly, let’s make this hat trend happen. Come on, we made graphic tees, skinny jeans, neon sunglasses happen … we absolutely have the power to take it back to the 1920’s when women wore gloves, dresses, hats, and pants were a thing of shame. Men swooned and we looked damn hot. Ahh, the good ol’ days. Damn you Millennium.