I Tried

I felt like paying homage to one of my personal style heros, and think I should try a little harder next time.  For starters, I can't believe I forgot my red lippie. 

Dress - vintage

Earrings and Necklace - godmother

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

Baptism + Boobs

This weekend was all about the ladies.

(I think the Blessed Virgin would co-sign that.)

The newest member of our family, my five week-old second cousin Carmen, donned her favorite Christening gown and bonnet and officially said 'Hallelujah!' 

Of course we had to have a major rager afterwards.

Carmen's parents are my Top Model-watching partners.

Presents!

And here is the It Girl of the hour. 

Then it was off to the Dyke March!

Last year I walked with my friends, but this year we just sat around and people-watched.

(If you are looking for topless photos, go elsewhere.)

Elegance.  Glamour.  Dynasty.

A little grigio in a little plastic cup.

A little fuschia and a little chartreuse. 

And a whole lotta love.

Brooks Brothers Black Fleece

It's moments like these that I wish I was a guy. But I think, for me, it would get very expensive very quickly, because I would dress full-on dandy one hundred percent of the time. Slim-fitting suits, pocket squares, bamboo-handled umbrellas, bow ties, stripes, straw boater hats, seersucker, wingtips, ascots, I could go on. Tom Wolfe would be an utter slob by comparison.

I recently learned that Brooks Brothers, known for its conservative suits and preppy weekend wear, has an offshoot called Black Fleece, and I heard a rumor that a Black Fleece store is about to open in my neighborhood. I took a peek at what Black Fleece was all about, and I now have much adoration for many looks for the gents. It's still fairly preppy, but definitely has more personality, color, and humorous flair than regular old plain jane Brooks Brothers.

The offerings for the ladies totally made me yawn. It feels more like an afterthought, like they took the fabric from menswear and just mooshed into something that would fit a woman's body. The proportions, the patterns, the entire look just doesn't seem that flattering at all. But the menswear: huge thumbs up from me. Give me some Don Draper mixed with Chuck Bass and I'll follow you anywhere.

Can't Tell Me Nothing

Dress - Philosophy di Alberta Ferretti

Cardigan - James Perse

Necklace - vintage

Shoes - Manolo Blahnik

Potentially Hazardous Accessories: Part II

The threat level has gone from yellow to orange!  Hot on the heels of my friend A., whose belt buckle practically got him arrested at the airport last week, comes my charming friend Rachel and her Antlered Purse of Death!

Rachel may look bashful and harmless, but don't be fooled.  She too has a tale of being stopped by law enforcement because of a seemingly innocuous component in her wardrobe.  We met up for brunch on Sunday and she regaled us with the story of the time she brought this particular purse of hers to a courthouse for jury duty.  Just a law-abiding citizen performing her civic duty...or was she? 

As Rachel tells it, she walked through the metal detectors at the courthouse, and her bag was handed to a security officer for a quick inspection.  The guard held her bag (pictured above) up in front of him, frowned, and the following exchange took place: 

Guard: What the hell do you call that? 

Rachel: Oh!  It's...it's an antler. 

Guard: An antler?

Rachel: From a taxidermied deer? 

Guard: (Handing her bag back to her) Next time, why don't you bring a different bag with you to the courthouse. 

Rachel: Um, okay. 

The breathless intrigue and mayhem on Cuffington never ceases!

Red Licorice

Blazer - Elizabeth and James

Blouse - vintage

Vest - vintage

Trousers - Banana Republic

Shoes - Lanvin

It's Always Sunny in Sausalito

Images of a weekend.

We took a boat (the Sausalito Ferry, to be exact)

A little hydration for your nerves!

Dessert roadkill!  (Thank gawd it wasn't ours). 

This boat is real.

Airport Accessory Dos and Don'ts

I like to keep accessories simple when I travel. One thing I always wear when I'm flying is my Marc by Marc Jacobs pear pendant watch. I've had it for over two years and it has served me well, especially when my phone (which, as it is for so many other people, is my watch) must be completely shut off. While I'd love a white cermaic Chanel J12 watch I'm not waiting for that ship to come in any time soon.
So this necklace does the trick perfectly. I've also found that the less jewelry you wear when you have to move in and out of airport security, the better. That being said, please keep in mind of the context in which your accessories might be viewed in. And by that I mean please don't make the mistake my friend A. made, and pull out your punk rock belt buckle from days of yore:

I mean, duh, it's fake, but even so. He was detained by TSA agents at an airport in the United States this morning. A police report will most likely be filed. This photo was taken by A. earlier today during his detention.

So yeah. I hope this scares you straight! Please take note, everyone. And kids, leave your bullet belts at home, too! (One time my friend Paul's bullet belt was confiscated during an unexpected trip to the ER, but that's another tale to tell).

Polka Music

Blouse - vintage

Sweater - Burberry

Trousers - Banana Republic

Necklace - my godmother

Shoes - Christian Loubutin

Emperors of Dreams: Adventures in Late Night Double Features

A couple weekends ago Ted and I saw two documentaries at the Lumiere Theater, two 90 minute films that at first glance might make one think they could not be more opposite. One was Valentino: The Last Emperor, which chronicled the legendary couturior's final months at the storied house, and the other was Anvil: The Story of Anvil, a documentary about a once-famous 80's metal band that has never given up on their shot at the big time.

Take one guess as to what film I was more excited to see.

That's kind of a trick question, as I was pretty much equally stoked for both movies. This was not some sort of pathetic his-and-hers "I'll see your movie if you see mine" date night. As if! Besides, gender binary themed movie nights are so passe.

Valentino was first. We both enjoyed it tremendously: the fashion, the history, the flock of doggies underfoot, the fashionable witticisms, tantrums, and the relationship between Valentino and Giancarlo Giammetti, his one-time lover but lifetime partner in business . Not just a great excuse to watch perfectly coiffed jet-set Italians in suits and silk scarves, but to truly witness the transition of a house from Valentino's early career in the sixties to the drastic changes that seemed to come about so quickly (read: luxury brands being purchased and acquired by large conglomerates) near the turn of the century, and its profound effect on Valentino the brand as well as the man himself. Giancarlo's almost constant behind-the-scenes presence in nearly every facet of Valentino's life was a huge revelation for me, as I knew next to nothing about his personal life, let alone this handsome fellow with a whorl of white hair whose involvement in Valentino's life and work was so intrinsic to his wildly successful 45 years in the business of couture.

When the last of the red and white gowns sashayed down the runway and the credits for Valentino began to roll, Ted and I left our seats and made our way to a theater across the hall. It was time to take in a documentary of a decidedly different nature - or so I thought.

Anvil: The Story of Anvil felt uncomfortably similar to The Wrestler in the first few minutes. It opens with legends of early metal and rock: Slash, Lemmy Kilmister, and Lars Ulrich to name a few, discussing a band they all toured and played with in the eighties. That band was Anvil, and by all accounts, Anvil had talent and drive but for mysterious reasons never reached the dizzying heights of rock-god success that so many other acts of the day reveled in. Instead, they fell into obscurity, and it is at this point that the film crash lands in the modern day suburbs of Canada, showing the members of Anvil, now in their forties but still sporting ponytails and tight black jeans, working menial jobs and scraping ice from the windshields of their vans. In all the years that followed their brief mid-eighties heyday, the band never really broke up. They still tour and record music, refusing to give up on their dream of, well, living the dream.

The lives of the men of Anvil, who still eat mac and cheese out of the box, feel light years away from Valentino and Giancarlo's private yachts on the Riviera and ivy-covered chateaus, but before Anvil was over, I was already drawing parallels, and after the film, Ted and I stayed up late talking about the common threads that both films shared.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep in the early morning hour, maybe it was coming off of a sugar high from the Junior Mints that I'd smuggled into the theater, but I got very teary-eyed discussing how a person could love something so much (be it designing gowns or playing a guitar) that you can see the pain in their face when they talk about the possibility of not doing it anymore. When their whole life has come to mean the one thing that they do well. That they are lucky enough to know what it is that makes them get out of bed in the morning, and pursue it with all their heart. And - perhaps most importantly - that there is a person right there next to them (a bandmate, a lifelong business partner) who loves it just as much and wants them to succeed. Whose success depends on the support of this other person. For me, it underscored what a luxury it is to have someone in your life that you love (romantically, platonically, whatever) that you can share your dreams with, and how maybe it's that much easier to pursue your dreams when someone is right there cheering you on, whether you make it all the way or not. Because sooner or later, life is over, and eventually your revels must end. But at that point, it's comforting to know that you at least got the chance to revel.

Just in Time for Truman Capote's Ball

Top - Lewis Cho

Skirt - Yves Saint Laurent

Bracelet - H&M

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

The Story of a Weekend, Told (Mostly) With Shoes

Morning tea with The Moms.

Lunch with Ted.

Afternoon snack with Grandpa.

Late night taqueria after Debaser.

False Alarm

According to the weather forecast for the past three or four days, rain was supposed to fall, but it has yet to show it's face. That's why I've been wearing boots so often. It's not in the name of style. You're looking at four years of Girl Scouting here.

Dress - Marc Jacobs

Belt - Eugenia Kim

Cardigan  - James Perse

Tights - Hue

Boots - Prada

Frankie Says Relax

Blouse - vintage

Vest - H&M

Skirt - Banana Republic

Pearls - godmother

Shoes - Salvatore Ferragamo

The Big Sleep

I'm a lucky girl if I get eight hours of sleep on a weeknight. Seven to six is how it usually goes, but up until recently, no matter how much I slept, I was always woken multiple times by one thing or another.

Sometimes it was noisy neighbors, sometimes it was the boisterous coo of an overenthusiastic pigeon, but at one point it occured to me that most of the time when I woke up before my alarm, it was because of light. And by that I mean the sunlight that shot through my blinds at an increasingly earlier rate. Since the summer solstice is later this month, it only made sense that the sun came up earlier and earlier with each passing day. However, interrupted sleep is not the kind of sleep that leaves you refreshed and well-rested. Quite the contrary!

I can't control my neighbors and I can't control urban wildlife, but I can control the environment in which I sleep. I knew an eyemask was in order, and when my friend Annie showed me Sourdough, everything clicked into place.

Sourdough incorporates so many things that I already love: vintage mid-century barkcloth, authentic mid-century patterns, and items that are just as beautiful as they are useful. Sourdough's line also includes jackets and dishtowels, but this eyemask was something that I actually needed, something that shrouded me in darkness and helped me sleep better (note: draping a black sock over your face does not a happy sleeper make!). Annie sprinkles lavender, a smell that always relaxes me, inside the barkcloth top and the satin underside of the eyemasks before sewing them up.

I am so much happier (and such a more well-rested individual) since using my eyemask.

Seriously, check out Sourdough. Sleep tested and Cuffington approved.

I Am a Camera

Mondays were made for a lot of black and a little something fun.

Top - Missoni

Trousers - Helmut Lang

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

My New Gray Living Room Wall

Let's put a new coat of paint on this lonesome old town

Set 'em up, set 'em up, and knocking 'em down

You wear a dress, and honey I'll wear a tie

We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon in that burgundy sky.

That Girl is Poison

Blouse - vintage Escada

Cardigan - James Perse

Trousers - Chloe

Earrings - godmother

Shoes - Manolo Blahnik