I'm Just a Dandy Lion

Jacket - Elizabeth and James

Blouse - vintage

Vest - vintage

Sweater - H&M

Tie - vintage

Trousers - Banana Republic

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

I Thought I Needed Glasses

Who would have thought? I unraveled a bit of a shoe mystery last night. Below is the gorgeous Christian Louboutin 'Gino,' a closed-toe t-strap heel in gold, black, and lilac, as it appears on Net-a-Porter:

Lovely, no? I thought so too. The Gino is also offered in Barneys stores as well as on their website. Here is the Gino that appears on Barneys.com:
Can you tell the difference? For a little while, I thought I was losing my marbles. Lining them up side by side brought me to my senses.
85mm and 100mm, respectively. I seriously did not know such a thing was possible. I can completely understand a simple black or other solid color coming in a variety of heel heights, but what initally made me look twice was that here was a pretty unique-looking shoe in a very specific color scheme, bequeathed with its own name (as is wont to happen to shoes these days), and two different retailers are carrying the shoe in two different heel heights. What would have happened if someone saw that one retailer was out of their size so they ordered it from the other? Can you imagine the surprise? This will not be happening to me however, as both retailers currently do not have either of the Ginos in my size. Life will go on, but it will also be a tad brighter, as I know that at least at this point in my life I am not yet in need of bifocals.

Like the Shoe, See the Film?

The subtle yet deliberate preponderance of luxury items on movie posters for films directed at women is worth noting.

I first saw this phenomenon about seven months ago, when ads for 'Four Christmases,' the Reese Witherspoon/Vince Vaughn holiday comedy started popping up on bus shelters, atop taxis, and in magazines. It was such a generic design: the two stars dressed in all black, defiantly posed back to back, smiling in a 'here comes trouble' sort of way, poised to crack wise. Were it not for the fact that these stars were adorned in red ribbons and bows and Reese was standing on a pile of boxed gifts, this could have been a poster for just about any film and any subject matter.

Let me back up for a second. Reese is standing on a stack of boxes. It is fairly common knowledge that she is quite petite. Stand her (or digitally place her) next to Vaughn, who wouldn't feel out of place at a Big & Tall, and you have a whole lot of height disparity. To balance out the focus of the poster, the designers of the ad placed little Christmas presents under her feet and dressed her in a pair of up-to-there Louboutins.

Notice I did not say heels. I said Louboutins. Because that is precisely what they are.

I am of the belief that absolutely nothing in advertising is incidental. There is nothing about the final product that is an accident. Every single splashed droplet of milk on a box of Corn Flakes is placed there to serve a specific purpose. The instantly recognizable lipstick-red soles of Christian Louboutin heels could have been turned to black with the click of a mouse. But a deliberate choice was made to include them. Subtle advertising by Louboutin (who, by the way, does not advertise), total styling coincidence, or a sly ploy to attract a potential movie-goer who would recognize the shoe and think it might be more of a 'fashion movie' than the rest of the poster lets on?

I had no desire to see 'Four Christmases,' and yet I did. I was at my mother's house on Christmas Eve and she wanted some nice light holiday fluff. This was what she chose, and my honey baked ham sat in the seat next to her, popping Junior Mints, and as the lights in the theater dimmed, I hoped that maybe this was one of those secret 'fashion movies' after all. I mean, not along the lines of this movie or this movie, but maybe at least a notch above 'Transformers'? Aside from a bright Pucci caftan in the first five minutes, it was decidedly not, but my mom had a fun time, and that's what counts.

Earlier this week I was walking around Union Square and came face to face with a twenty-foot tall movie poster for the upcoming Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds film, 'The Proposal.' And holy Bergdorf's credit card bill, but there were those Louboutins again! At eye level, no less!

And now, on to the not-so-subtle. These placements move beyond the world of shoes. Recall the much-loathed Renee Zellweger vehicle from earlier this year, 'New in Town.' Apparently it was about a cosmopolitan executive who has to temporarily move to rural Minnesota.
Once upon a time, film posters and promotional materials showed the status of the film's characters and luxurious world that they inhabited by clothing them in furs, jewels, and fine fabrics. Then again, brand recognition, while still vital to advertising, was not as ubiquitously infiltrated into our culture as it is today, where it has seeped into something as tiny as a detail on a movie poster.

I am not saying that any of this - the deliberate placement of brand-specific luxury goods on movie posters for films directed at a female audience - is necessarily bad. It is just something that is becoming more and more common, and I'm interested in why. These movies are not 'fashion movies.' Maybe the movie posters for 'The Devil Wears Prada' and 'Sex and the City' didn't use those kinds of images because they didn't really need to. The name of the films screamed 'fashion!' all by themselves. And as long as tickets are sold, the end justifies the means.

Spring Fever

Dress- Dries Van Noten

Shoes - Lanvin

She Was Born in the Wagon of a Traveling Show

No! No, she wasn't. I just had to let that out of my system, considering what day it is. Cuffington readers, today's theme is utter celebration and rejoicing, because the woman who makes my glittery golden world go round turns 63 today!

Last weekend, Cher dazzled my eyes and ears into weepy piles of goop, just like she has been doing all over the world for decades. I was so lucky to get to see her descend from the rafters in a gold birdcage wearing a Nefertiti headpiece, kick up her heels in many a Bob-Mackie designed ensemble, and sing her heart out to the point where my eyes welled up with sparkly tears.

Happy happy birthday Cher! One fine day when the tables are turned and it is I who am 63 (and you are 97) I will come and see you perform again. Because I KNOW you will be. Trust.

Two Tickets to Cher-idise

Photography was not allowed at the show I saw in Las Vegas last weekend. Here are some other bits and pieces.

Wave Goodbye to Your Money

Or not. No one is holding a gun to your head and making you shop, are they? (And if they are, oh my God, RUN!)

The summer sales have begun! As of yesterday and today, Net-a-Porter and Barneys have both launched, with many more (including Nordstrom's Half-Yearly, which starts tomorrow) to follow.

I have nothing but big sloppy kisses (with tongue!) for both of these institutions when it comes to doing business with them through parcel post. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Lily Cole!

My fav ginger Brit in all of moddle-dom turns 21 today. Cheers!

Get Behind the Mule

Top - Missoni

Cardigan - James Perse

Trousers - Banana Republic

Belt - vintage

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

Tourist Nails

Yesterday at my favorite nail place I decided to get my nail color in something a little louder than what I usually do. A trip to Las Vegas to see Cher (see below) requires nothing less. In the serene, dim lighting of the nail place, this color seemed like a subdued coral hue to my eyes.

But as it dried and I ventured back out into the sun, I saw that rather than a mellow, tropical coral hue, I instead had a screaming, rancid neon tangerine on my hands. And toes.

You know, I'm actually fine with it. One should have a sense of humor about the way one dresses. OPI certainly keeps things on the lighter side when naming their nail color shades. The one you see above is called Cajun Shrimp. Maybe that should have been my first clue that I was going to come out on the tackier side of things. But where else to embrace it than on the Vegas strip, swilling a tropical umbrella-emblazoned cocktail the size of my head? Thank God that at least my nails will match.

There's Something I Must Cher With You

My birthday was earlier this week and small bits of celebration happened here and there. However, this weekend, I am heading to Las Vegas.
You see, I have an appointment at Caeser's Palace with this woman. And by 'appointment,' I mean 'seats within wig-hurling distance.' Ted is coming too (full disclosure, he arranged the whole thing) and for that feat alone John the Baptist, Nelson Mandela, Liza Minelli and Al Gore should hand him the Nobel Peace Prize.

In other words: My wildest dreams are coming true. BRB.

Birthday Hurr

I've been having fun wrassling with the curling iron in the morning lately.  A few hours ago it was totally Madonna circa Ray of Light ringlets but thank God it's mellowed out a bit into more beach-blown waves.  Gisele Bündchen flowing locks much?  Just kidding.

Cardigan - James Perse

Top - vintage

Trousers - Yves Saint Laurent

Necklace - vintage Bakelite

Shoes - Jimmy Choo

Return of the Fly!

My blazer (the one I wore every day last summer) is BACK. I missed it so.

Blazer - Elizabeth & James 

Sweater- H&M

Trousers - Banana Republic

Belt - Salvatore Ferragamo

Shoes- Jimmy Choo

Slap a Band-Aide on It

Once upon a million lifetimes ago, my high-end jewelry-loving co-worker Audra would sprinkle sparkling witticisms around the office. One that was by no means her best but nevertheless oft-repeated was, "You can't go wrong with a little blue box."
I myself was the happy recipient (an early birthday present to myself) of a little blue box yesterday. But whereas Audra's heart belonged to Tiffany's (as I am sure you guessed from her quote above), mine resides with the house of Lanvin.

So, let's take a look in the box, shall we? 

It seems as though my flats have arrived.  

I seriously love them. They will be so versatile; I have envisioned different wardrobe scenarios a hundred times over. And you know, there's something about the color and perforation that really, really reminds me of Band Aides. Who knew a little blue Lanvin shoe box was a First Aid kit in disguise, designed to soothe and comfort in a time of footwear neediness.

Mint Julip

I love how I can wear this cardigan - this drapey piece of material that is basically a glorified sweatshirt - in so many different ways.

Dress - Marni

Cardigan - James Perse

Belt - Salvatore Ferragamo

Shoes - Jimmy Choo

Mother and Child Reunion

I met The Moms for lunch today at a restaurant of her choosing. We dined at Fog City Diner, and like the exemplary child that I am, I totally left her present behind, wrapped and ready to go, on my couch.
The Moms rode her bike, because she's rawr like that.  Meanwhile, I took the trolley with all the other ordinary mortals.
"Don't take my picture!" she scolded as she locked up her Cannondale.

"No, I mean it.  Do not take my picture.  My hair is a mess.  I don't even have a brush."

Back in the mid-1980s when I was a wee little Cuffington, my dad took my sister and I to a dime store to pick out a present for her for Mother's Day.  The necklace that The Moms is wearing in the above photo is what I chose for her.  It's a simple strand of sparkly glass beads but at the time I thought it was the most gorgeous, exquisitely glamourous piece of luxurious elegance the world would ever know.  My sister got her a three-pack of Hanes Her Way in various shades of pink. 

Every single Mother's Day since then, for the past twenty-plus years, no matter where we go or what we do, The Moms always wears that necklace. And it looks like she's still fond of pink as well.

Mama Tried

Cardigan - James Perse

Tanks - Banana Republic & American Apparel

Vest - vintage

Jeans - Levi's

Necklace - my godmother

Shoes - Pedro Garcia

Dries of Our Lives

I ventured into a boutique last weekend that I previously passed by literally hundreds of times before.  It's in my neighborhood, it is cavernous and cement-floored, and for the purposes of this story, it shall remain anonymous. 

Ted and I were killing time before our dinner reservations down the street, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to finally cross over the threshold of this place. My thought was, well, I've lived here for almost two years - if I didn't walk in right now, who knows if I ever would. It also didn't hurt that, from my vantage point on the sidewalk, it was easy to see they carried Tsumori Chisato, Dries Van Noten, and Ann Demeulemeester, among others.  My appetite was officially whetted, so in we went. 

Let me be perfectly clear up front: my experience inside was nothing less than fabulous.  Their selection was impressive, the ambience friendly and relaxed, and the sales staff went above and beyond with their assistance and know-how. 

Inside, I gravitated toward a rack that I could clearly see was stocked with the flowery technicolor garments of Dries Van Noten S/S 2008.  What fantastic luck - they even had the very blouse I had coveted last spring: short sleeve, collared, with orange and blue blooms exploding on silk.  And look here - one was even in my size.  Surely, I thought, a blouse that was three seasons old would be marked down to minor ducats by this point in time.  It must have been hanging on this rack for at least a year.  But when I checked the tag, the price was obviously the same it had been since the day it was brought out to the sales floor.  There was no markdown whatsoever.  

My thoughts immediately turned inward.  Have I grown to just expect certain things to be on sale?  I took a step back and looked at this long rack of clothing, a straight row of impeccable, beautifully made garments.  My growing sense of Discount Entitlement only grew when I saw that this rack of year-old yet full-priced Dries Van Noten was hanging directly next to a rack of what was unmistakably Dries Van Noten Fall 2008, with marbled rainbowy print, and Spring 2009, all black and white grids and block patterns.  I suddenly felt unworthy.  This boutique was mocking the shallow depths of my pocketbook.  "Yes," it seemed to say, "We are aware of how old this blouse is, but it is not now, nor will it ever be, marked down.  Why?  Well, you know how the saying goes.  If you have to ask..." 

Ted and I left the store a few minutes later without making a purchase, flinging a goodbye wave at the sales staff and thanking them for their help.  I did not dream of asking why a blouse from three seasons ago was still full price.  I was not about to come off as an entitled customer who just expects a sale.  Besides, I know I'll walk through those doors again some day and do not want to be remembered as That Girl.  I'll just blab about it on the internet for all the world to see instead.

In all seriousness, the question I'm asking right now regarding discounts (or lack thereof) is: Why?  Why do they choose not to?  Because they can?  Well, clearly they can, because they are. 

I used to work in apparel, but it was for a large, mid-priced global brand that was carried in department stores the world over as well as it's own individual stand-alone enclaves, and things were marked down on a very precise, regimented schedule in pre-determined increments.  Dries Van Noten is a Belgian designer that I have the utmost respect and adoration for.  Do I feel that a Dries garment is worth what it is priced as?  Certainly.  But when larger chains like Barneys or Saks or whoever assigns times throughout the year to mark down certain items, I suppose not every vendor of the brand is automatically required to follow suit. 

Perhaps I have answered my own question.  A large chain of stores has a calendar to adhere to, where a stand-alone boutique has more freedom.  And permit me to put on my whiney-pants for just a moment, but this inconsistency is disappointing and frustrating, something I felt in my bones as I hung up that gorgeous blouse and stepped away with a frown on my face. 

On the other side of the coin, were it not for stand-alone, smaller boutiques like that one, the obtaining of a garment that you thought had long since passed you by is still possible.  It's all part of the food chain.  Boutiques like these save you from trying your luck on eBay for pieces from seasons past.  Perhaps keeping the original price on the tag is something not unlike a finder's fee, for those of us (like me!) who want to have their Dries and eat it too.

Paper Planes

Jumpsuit - Missoni

Cardigan - James Perse

Necklace - H&M

Sandals - Salvatore Ferragamo

A Touch of Gray

Cardigan - James Perse

Tanks - Banana Republic and James Perse

Jeans - Rock & Republic

Boots - Fioretini Baker

Laura Petrie

When I wear pants like this, she always comes to mind.

Sweater - Givenchy

Trousers - Banana Republic

Shoes - Lanvin

Sign of the Times

Net-a-Porter significantly cut back on their packaging some time ago and they show no signs of going back to their old forest-pillaging ways just yet.  A year and a half ago I ordered a dress from Missoni's S/S 07 season and it came to me (via DHL - another casualty of the economy) delicately wrapped in black tissue paper, in a chic, shiny black pizza-sized box with a magnetic flap top, with a huge dust bag folded on top, all tied up with black ribbon. 

Last week I logged on to Net-a-Porter again and ordered a Missoni jumpsuit, a piece of clothing that is pretty much the exact same size and weight as the dress I previously ordered.  It arrived today, via UPS, in a plain brown cardboard box the size of a cheese wedge, suitable for shipping.  Inside this parcel, a folded square of black tissue paper was wedged up against a corner, and the remainder of the space was occupied by a teeny tiny duster bag.  I put my cell phone next to it so you'd have an idea of scale. 

There you have it.  Such a stark contrast to the glossy black box, ribbons, and other superfluous packaging ephemera that accompanied my order from 19 months ago.  

My garment was folded up quite a few times, but not wrinkled, and I encountered no problems in the shipping process.  Even though the previous packaging style of Net-a-Porter made me feel like I was receiving a gift from the high priestesses of internet luxury-chic-ness, I think it's great when companies can cut down on unnecessary packaging, whether it is for budgetary concerns or otherwise.

I'm excited to wear my jumpsuit in Las Vegas in a couple weeks, and every other foggy, bone-rattling San Francisco day that I deem "hot enough" for jumpsuit weather.

Buffalo Exchange Contest Update

The winner of the Buffalo Exchange gift certificate contest I had a while back checked in last week.  Kimberly Mansfield trekked on over to the NYC Buffalo Exchange on 11th Street and came away with two tops.

I'm glad you squeezed the most out of it and had fun, Kimberly.