Cuffington on SF Indie Fashion

Click here for a quick interview I did over on SF Indie Fashion.

The last time I was on this landmark Bay Area fashion blog, it was for a decidedly different reason. It's so fun to see things come circling around again (as they often do here in SF and online). Enjoy!

photo by Sara Iravani

Walking the Line

Coat - Burberry

Blouse - vintage { 1960s }

Trousers - vintage { 1980s }

Belt - J. Crew

Shoes - Salvatore Ferragamo

Bag - Chloe

What a Friend We Have in Beatrice

As you gathered, I've been away for a bit. My little sweetums, Beatrice the cat, fell ill on New Years and died a couple of days later. She would have been ten years old later this year.

Ted adopted Beatrice, and her surviving sister, Ramona, when they were babies.

They never spent a day apart.

I miss my little Bea very much.

Goodbye, Twenty Eleven

Here are some previously unpublished photos from the past year, including a small peek into last night's New Years festivities.

Ring in the New

Today I wore a bunch of stuff from earlier this year, and not a stitch of vintage. It's stuff I wouldn't have thought went well together, yet somehow did.

Blouse - Jason Wu

Necklace - Marni

Trousers - Jason Wu

Shoes - Manolo Blahnik

Happy New Year, everyone!

Prada and Ghosts of Flying Toasters Past

It was a late winter morning in the early nineties. I know for sure it was still technically morning because my seventh grade math class was always before lunch. I had actually got up and walked out of math class a few minutes prior, and was now sitting in the private office of the school guidance counselor. I wasn't in trouble, but I knew I had just done something terrible.

I was a mostly-A's student in every subject, but the one place I always struggled in was math. I had difficulty with it and my math grades were always gaping holes on my otherwise pristine report cards. Nothing about it came naturally and it seemed like I had to try five times as hard to do as well as the kids who never seemed to study at all. Math homework often brought me to tears, I remember dabbing my eyes with Kleenex at the kitchen table as I labored over long division.

That day in the guidance counselor's office, I sat and explained to her why I had abruptly left math class to come and talk to her. Moments earlier our math teacher had given our class a pop quiz, with ten questions.  He then had us grade ourselves, and then he went down the list in his grade book and had us tell him out loud how many questions out of ten we got right so he could write it down.  "Eight" said one kid. "Five" said another. And on down the list the teacher went, until he reached the middle of the alphabet, where the letter 'N' resides, which is the first letter of my last name and my classmate, Katrina.

Katrina was the best student in class and got A's on almost everything. Katrina was homely and quiet, with the unfortunate kind of prescription glasses that magnified her eyes. She looked like an owl, gawky and awkward in bulky homemade sweaters.  Across the aisle from me sat a boy named Mackenzie.  Mackenzie often wore Bad Boy Club t-shirts and loafers with no socks. He was the kind of kid who wouldn't listen to you unless you had a weapon. Katrina, with her obvious vulnerable nerdiness, was an easy target for Mackenzie, who had zero shits to give and often berated her when she got a good grade, in a voice that was loud enough for all to hear. Katrina never spoke back to him, instead she turned red and looked down at her desk. It was painful to watch, but since I was an average student Mackenzie left me alone.

So we graded our quizzes and to my complete shock I had got every question right. Ten out of ten. Wow. This would give my math grade a much needed boost. But my fiery pride and elation were quickly doused when I realized that I would have to say my grade aloud. The teacher asked Katrina for her quiz results. "Nine" she said flatly. Across the aisle, Mackenzie snorted. "God," he whispered, "You fucking loser." Then the teacher asked me for my number. I hesitated for half a second. 

"Seven," I said. 

A wash of acid flushed through my gut. I immediately regretted what I had done. And I had let a boy, a boy who got worse grades than me, intimidate me into selling myself short in a class where I needed every point I could get. I was so angry at myself. When the teacher put away his grade book, I asked to be excused.

So there I sat in the guidance counselor's office, telling her the whole story. I wanted to push a button and go back in time and change what I'd done. I was furious with myself, and also ashamed. She began to speak, to advise me on what my next move should be, but her words faded into the background because it was at this moment that I noticed her computer.

She clearly hadn't used her computer in a while because the screen saver had kicked in. And there across the screen was a flock of round chrome toasters, flapping their wings and zipping across at different speeds. It was on an infinite loop, it seemed, always more toasters and more pieces of toast came into view, only to fly out of sight eventually. I had never seen anything like it. I have no recollection of what she said, or what I told my math teacher later that day. In the midst of a huge seventh grade crisis where my self esteem and identity hung in the balance, were these toasters, shiny and aerodynamic, taking flight. It was as if, suddenly, life wasn't so serious, because I was living in a world where toasters were flying south for the winter. And things would be better.

Prada's spring/summer 2012 collection definitely has a whiff of the jet age in it's influence. Their whimsical prints are buzzing with post-war America's love of all things shiny, rounded and chrome. You see it in the shoes and bags as well, with the automobiles adorned with flames and big fin tail lights. In those days, people were dreaming big in a newfound consumer culture. This spring, Prada gives me a whirly grin, similar to how those flying toasters lifted me out of a shameful moment back in the early nineties. Don't let the Mackenzies of the world put you down, people. Hitch your lasso to your own version of a flying toaster, and rise above.

Prada photos via style.com, Flying Toaster screen capture via Holy Taco

Cozy + Crisp

Sweater - vintage { 1950s }

Coat - Chanel

Trousers - J. Crew

Belt - J. Crew

Bag - Chloe

Socks - American Apparel

Shoes - Pour la Victoire

Mailbag: Hooking Matt Hooper's Style

It's been a very long time since anyone wrote me asking for style advice (clearly, you've wised up). So imagine my shock and delight when Australian reader James sent me a message asking how to go about finding clothes similar to what Richard Dreyfuss's character wore in Jaws. Let's have Roy Schneider demonstrate my reaction to James' email.

James came across my story on Richard Dreyfuss's character's style in Jaws and explained his predicament: "I've been attempting to find some Drefussian style garb for my summer on the coastal beach of Wollongong. I've tried searching charity shops, but to no avail. My friend is a semi-Roy Schneider lookalike and I'm (at least in the gut department as well as height and baldness too) semi-Dreyfuss like. Our plan is to don the costumes and take tribute shots down at the local pier."

This is possibly the most amazing email I've ever received from a reader, nay, in my entire life. My five plus years as a fashion blogger have been leading up to this very moment. After all, I've been known to don a costume and pose in front of strategicly scouted locations too. But back to James and his awesome idea. In Jaws, Dreyfuss plays young Matt Hooper, whose wardrobe of coastal graduate student preppiness evokes a certain, as James put it, "nebbish charm." It's well-edited beach town scrappiness. James was looking for things that could be found online.  To get in the spirit, I made - what else? - a collage.

Let's start at the top and work our way down. We should also keep in mind that Matt Hooper dresses differently when he's far inland vs. when he is on a boat or near water. So, seeing as James' planned photoshoot is on a pier, we're going for the latter kind of look.

Matt Hooper wears a little knit navy blue beanie when he's on the docks. I'd definitely go with that. Those can be found at military supply stores as well as online. Next, the glasses! It should be noted that both Roy Schneider and Richard Dreyfuss wear glasses in the film, but the main difference is that Scheider's are metal frame double bridge and Dreyfuss's seem to be without frames at all. But if they do exist, they're whisper-thin. Go for the John Lennon style glasses if all else fails. I've been known to find frames in charity shops/thrift stores and simply knock the prescription lenses out with a hammer. Try eBay too, you might find something for a song.

So, you've got your beanie, your glasses, and your scruffy beard (hopefully). Next comes a weathered gray top. A simple sweatshirt will do, or, if you're feeling fancy, a fishermans cable knit sweater. From there, find yourself some well-worn blue jeans. If getting the genuine article on the cheap isn't possible, Levis or Lee would be the most appropriate. Last is footwear. Matt Hooper wears simple, somewhat distressed blue sneakers with white laces, and classic boat shoes are a very safe bet. If that falls through, simple blue Vans would work as well.

So, to recap: beanie, beard, glasses, light gray sweatshirt, old jeans, and dark blue boat shoes. That's your super basic Matt Hooper. Good luck with everything, James!

Slouchyness

Cardigan - Prada

Tank - H&M

Trousers - Theysken's Theory

Necklace - Marni

Shoes - Lanvin

Wrapped Up

Nothing takes the chill away like a thick top with knit bell sleeves.

Top -Dries Van Noten

Trousers - vintage { 1980s }

Bag - Elliott Lucca

Shoes - Salvatore Ferragamo