The Clothing Swap Surprise

Yesterday my friend Rachel had a clothing swap. I ate hummus and cookies, met some new people, and came away with two great basics and also one find so completely unexpected I kept waiting for someone to say I couldn't have it.
This vintage silk tie neck blouse is pure Catie-at-work. It's a sweet shade of milk chocolate brown, with an iridescent sheen to it. When you look very closely you can see that the texture embossed on to the material is actually wood grain, like fake paneling on top of a desk. A quirky twist on a simple classic.
I'm usually wary of accordion pleats, but these were so small and narrow that they seem fairly innocuous, not something that would make my hips look twice as wide as they actually are. It hangs straight down past my knees, not like an A-line, which is a shape I avoid on myself. It's from the Gap, and seems to be about ten years old.

Pretty sensible things. Stuff to wear to work or Thanksgiving dinner. But then I saw the dress.
The lightest weight, thinnest cotton shirtdress. It fit me perfectly, but the reddish-orange and white print was a bit loud. Tacky almost, like an old beach towel that my parents used in the seventies. I thought, When would I ever wear this? Maybe only on the hottest day of summer, or when on vacation at some tropical locale and aren't afraid to look unabashedly like a tourist. Then I looked at the label sewed into the collar.
My first reaction was to carefully, disinterestedly ask the person who brought the dress where she got it. She shrugged, and tossed off a quick answer about finding it at a thrift store long ago. I wasn't sure what to think. As I mentioned above, the material was a very thin cotton, and delicate in a questionable quality sort of way. I'd seen old Lanvin dresses in vintage stores before, priced near the sixty dollar range, and definitely of the very casual variety. Nothing fancy, nothing like the chiffon and beaded pieces Alber Elbaz has been dreaming up as of late.

I wish I was more well-versed in the history of the house of Lanvin, and would maybe therefore feel more informed about these sorts of casual dresses made from less than the highest quality of material. Back in the seventies, did Lanvin have licensing deals like Pierre Cardin and Diane von Furstenburg that churned out all sorts of products with the Lanvin label sewn in place, or was this dress a perfect example of the sort of garment that the house actually produced back then? The full story behind this piece remains to be seen, but when all is said an done I did come out of that clothing swap party with a free Lanvin dress. Not a bad party favor if you ask me.

Somebody Blows Their Nose and You Want to Keep It?

As always, Tommy Ton at Jak & Jil has done a bang-up job of giving plebeians like me an up-close look at amazing footwear. Here are some shots of Nicholas Kirkwood for Rodarte.
I mean this in the nicest, most tripping-over-myself-to-compliment-you way possible, as I adore both Rodarte and Kirkwood but my immediate first thought when faced with the melty, frozen-goopy heels of these amazing creations was all the pastel slime from Ghostbusters II.

That said, I would fight a giant slor with a proton pack any day of the week for a chance to walk in these creations.

Faster, Polkadot! Kill! Kill!

Blouse -Sonia by Sonia Rykiel

Skirt - Lanvin

Bracelet - H&M

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

Sick

These past few days have been most unkind.I want nothing more in the world than to be done with the self-serving regimen that the last few days have afforded me: sneeze, cough, hack, moan in despair, curl up in blankets and watch DVDs, rinse, repeat.

When I'm sick, I don't want to do anything that requires effort, or movement, or both. And I say with crossed fingers and toes whilst rapping my knuckles on Chanel wood clogs that this is true, but I do believe the worst part may be behind me. Regular programming shall commence tomorrow.

I Don't Want the World, I Just Want Your Half

Sweater - Trovata

Blouse - vintage

Necktie - Dennis Uniform Company

Trousers - H&M

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

The Oldest Thing You Have

The other day I was thinking about turnover in my personal wardrobe. How long do I hang onto things? What prompts me to let something go? I then did some inventory to see what the "oldest" article of clothing in my possession was. Not old in terms of vintage or when the piece was actually made, but how long I had called it mine. Finally, I figured it out. Here it is: A pair of simple plain jane black flip flops from J Crew. I have had them for exactly eight years, having purchased them during the early spring of my senior year of college, in 2002. Kind of unexpected. They are the only pair of flip flops I have ever owned, and I think they are in remarkable shape for being as old as they are.

I've been many places in these flippy floppies. They have moved with me through seven different apartments in three different states, accompanied me on the beach in Mexico, and served as my "house painting footwear," as indicated by the tiny droplets of pink and gray paint near the toe area. I think the reason they have lasted as long as they have is because I rarely wear them outside, or for long periods of time. They are my house slippers, the things I throw on as I dash down the hall to get the laundry or grab the mail from the mailbox. I've worn them nearly every day of my life for the past eight years.

This whole bout of self-reflection in turn made me consider the things I don't hang onto, the pieces that have come and gone out of my life. I realized that in general, the less money I paid for it, the more apt I am to get rid of it. Except for the flip flops, actually - they are both the exception and the rule. They were all of fourteen dollars and no, don't ask me how I remember these things! To further date myself and add to the ancientness of these little rubber slippers, I should also probably mention that I ordered them from the actual J. Crew catalogue. Like, I saw them on the pieces of glossy paper, called the 1-800 hundred number on a phone with a curly piggy tail CORD that plugged into the WALL, spoke with a Customer Service Representative, and then gave her my debit card number over said phone and waited until they arrived in the mail three weeks later. Also, later that night I developed a cold, so I put some leeches on my body before crawling into bed.

Honestly, fast fashion (for clarification, I do not place J. Crew in that category) is something that I am growing less and less fond of. I'm not saying we should all go out and buy the most expensive things we can, because a high price tag does not always equal good quality. I'm of the opinion that if I only want to spend a few bucks on a new skirt, why go to a massive fast fashion chain to pay for what is essentially a knock off of something from the runway whose shelf life is doubtful? I say, venture to a store of thrift and find the item from the eighties or seventies that most likely inspired that runway creation in the first place. It will probably be less money, and in the end won't be contributing to a giant pile of waste, because it already existed before that knock off skirt at the fast fashion store was even made.

What does the item you've had the longest (that you still wear) look like? It's probably either something super classic and functional, or something you bought long ago because you were totally head over heels for it, and through all these years, that love hasn't waned. I know I'd rather have a tiny wardrobe full of things I truly adored than racks of stuff I could walk away from at the drop of a hat. I'll probably be wearing these flip flops until my arches fall and I have to scoot around in orthopaedic shoes. Oh, the places we'll go!

Springy Encouragement

Dress - Dries Van Noten

Cardigan - Theory
Earrings - my godmother
Shoes - Christian Louboutin

Getting the Band Back Together

I had been keeping my eyes open for a marching band/Sgt. Peppers-type jacket for some time. At my high school there was no marching band, and thus their mystique (and my love-from-afar of their ornate, detailed uniforms) had been simmering inside me for years.
Ted and I were at Feathers Vintage in Austin, Texas this weekend when I found the very thing I had been searching for. It fit quite snugly, so much in fact that I can't close the front buttons all the way. That was totally fine with me, as a slim fit with any type of clothing is usually my preference.
The manufacturing tag inside the jacket indicates it was made in San Antonio, Texas.
And the patch on the sides of the arms reads 'Forest Park.' A fairly generic name for a school, and I was immediately resigned to never knowing about what school this jacket actually came from.
That resignation was squelched mere hours later, as we were walking around town. I had the jacket on and was coming out of an antiques store, when I heard a voice say "Forest Park?" I turned around. A middle age man in a baseball hat was looking at us.
"Forest Park?" he exclaimed again with a big smile. "Hell! I went to middle school there!"
So we stopped and had a brief chat with him. The gentleman explained that Forest Park Middle School is in east Texas in a town called Longview. I couldn't believe our good fortune. Learning the source of this jacket was the last thing I had expected to do that day, but thanks to this kindly random stranger, it happened. And I'm sure the last thing he expected was to see some girl from California parading around in the marching band jacket of his old middle school.

BRB

Hello, dearhearts.
I'm off like Twiggy on a moped for a quick weekend getaway to be all mushy with Ted and stuff. Posting will be light until about Tuesday.

Real quick though, I want to extend all my love and support to everyone who responded (in the myriad of ways that you did) to yesterday's post about the sad, untimely passing of Alexander McQueen. The fashion world as well as those near and dear to him are experiencing a great loss, and I didn't want it to seem like I was taking advantage of a situation to blabber on about myself and my depression, but rather raise awareness about a very real issue. All your responses weren't expected but were nevertheless very much appreciated, and even if you chose to read and carry on with your day, that is appreciated too. This website has always been a virtual bullhorn for sounding off on things that matter to me. It's not all Cher-and-Shoes all time (although, wouldn't it be dope if it was?). In other words, sometimes shit gets real, so thanks for your kind hearts and friendly ears.

Much love to one and all. I'm out!

Maybe I'll Be There to Shake Your Hand

When someone who you do not personally know dies unexpectedly, I think a common reaction among the living is to draw any sort of parallel you can to connect yourself to them. Otherwise, it feels a bit odd grieving for a total stranger. Maybe you loved them from afar for the amazing work they created. Maybe you were listening to a wistful classic rock song about lost connections and hope for the future on repeat the night before their passing, and the song that was playing as you fell asleep makes you feel both creeped out and comforted when reflecting on it the next morning. For me, I am guilty of both.

The first thing I did this morning when I sat down with my tea and opened my Twitter account was see the horribly sad breaking news of Alexander McQueen's death. The second thing I did was weep. Multiple reputable sources are reporting that it was suicide.

There is no argument that McQueen was one of the most inventive, fearless and talented designers on this earth. His clothes were exquisitely rendered and his shows were legendary theatrical presentations, each collection distinct in voice, message, and execution. There were many times that I hovered over purchasing one of his pieces, but always held off because great art does not come cheap.

Something I want to address full on is the nature of this man's death. He was not hit by a car. He did not have a heart attack, or lose a battle to cancer. But there was a war that was being waged internally that he did not emerge intact from. He ended his own life. I do not want to gloss over this.

Depression is fucking real. Only very recently did I begin to emerge from under a horribly dark fog myself, where feelings of such utter hopelessness and worthlessness were choking the very life out of me. Some days I felt so wretched I literally could not get out of bed. I thought I was anaemic, and began self-medicating by taking iron supplements, but soon after some diagnoses from health professionals unveiled the real issues and I began treatment.

I'm telling you this not for sympathy but because I want you to know that people all around you, even the person who writes some dumb blog about shoes and Sigourney Weaver that you occasionally stumble upon, might be going through a personal hell. More importantly, if this is something that you are dealing with, you are NOT alone out there. Really. This affliction is so far reaching and so incredibly common, and actually looking it in the eye can be the beginning of a way up and out.

If you do not have the privilege of being insured, or for other reasons do not have access to therapy or doctors, consider this:

The Kristin Brooks Hope Center (http://www.hopeline.com/), a suicide prevention network where you can immediately speak to people via phone or email
The National Suicide Prevention hotline 1-800-273-8255

What I learned in therapy is that it's interesting how talking things over with a stranger can sometimes feel easier than speaking to those you are close to. That said, those who are close to you are great starts and excellence resources. I'm not going to lie, the world can seem fucking dreadful sometimes. What if someone you loved was feeling this way? You'd want them to open up to you, right? It's my belief that if one person falls down in this world, there should be two people right there to take her by the hands and pick her up. One falls down, two pick her up. Let it begin right here.

Sparkle Motion

It's funny that when I am on the lookout for the most basic of things that the most unexpected items jump into my world out of nowhere. I was getting some plain jane flesh-colored pumps yesterday when these sparkly numbers from Miu Miu practically kicked me in the face.I just sat there and stared for a moment. A totally approachable modest wedge, yet wall to wall silver glitter at the same time. This shoe is what I call a ruse. There are so many fun things going on that my imagination starts running wild and I neglect to notice the thing I must always say no to: the ankle strap. It cuts my leg off in an unflattering way and I just cannot abide them. Miu Miu employed an ankle stap in a lot of their footwear last season so it's no surprise that it's still around. I for one will be enjoying them from a distance.

Peekaboo, I (Don't ) See You

Back in November I got a first look at Fendi's Tapestry Peekaboo bag and immediately imagined myself skipping through an English garden like a model fresh from a Grace Coddington editorial with this divinely crafted needlepoint purse swinging from my arm. A more over-the-top yet fantastically fitting bag for spring I could not picture. WELL! Picturing this bag is about as close to it as I will ever come. According to my in-the-know Fendi boutique source at Saks, less than a hundred were made, and they are priced at around $8,000 each. This of course was horribly depressing news to hear, but in the end it felt strangely right. Clearly this is a bag made entirely by hand, and with the extremely detailed needlepoint work involved, I would hope that the people who spent countless hours making it were fairly compensated. You can't deny that this is more than a bag, but truly a work of art.All that said, there are many other Peekaboos to choose from, and a road I have considered traveling down for tearful reasons. It is with a heavy heart that I tell you all that my tried and true BFF bag, the infamous black and brown Chloe tote, has seen better days. Seeing as I've pretty much used it every day of my life for three years, it's no wonder that it's a bit worse for wear. I'm not about to send it to the glue factory, but rather ease it into semi-retirement and let another bag become my go-to steady eddie. This black canvas Peekaboo got my heart pounding, partly because it is so similar to the beloved Chloe tote of which I speak. The job requirements of said bag are something large, square-ish and fancy, with natural, neutral tones that would match absolutely everything in my wardrobe. Another fun fact that my Fendi source clued me in on: whether the Peekaboo bags are leather or canvas, they are the same price. A price miles away from the $8,000 Tapestry, but still high enough ($1,850) to make me want to use my Chloe tote until it literally falls apart. (I once wore a shirt until it literally fell apart on my body, which is a tale for another time, but let's just say I'm no stranger to that concept).

Everybody Comes to Ric's

Last weekend Amy and I spent the better part of a morning at the home of our friend Ric.
I love how Ric has decorated his place. He used to work at a major interior design house but also has an eye for vintage as well as plain old great instincts.
He often uses old illustrations and comics paired with archaic yet beautiful objects, like toys or vintage cameras.
He also gets a lot of natural light, which is such a bonus when one lives in a densely populated city not necessarily known for its relentlessly sunny weather.
I like spending time at Ric's - not only for the pleasure of his company and large television set, but for the opportunity to nom on gloriously fake marbled FAKE BACON!

A Little Drop of Poison

Dress - Rag & Bone

Vest - vintage

Jeans - Rag & Bone

Necklace - Fenton

Earrings - vintage

Ring - Burberry

Shoes - Christian Louboutin

Wedding Bells to Ring at Net-a-Porter

In my mailbox yesterday there was a white envelope of heavy paper stuffed with thick cardstock. A quick glance lead me to believe it was a save the date or perhaps an actual wedding invitation (I've been the recipient of one of those already this year and wouldn't rule out more this early on). To my amusement, the envelope contained an announcement from Net-a-Porter indicating that their bridal boutique was opening for business in a matter of days.

Beginning February 16, one can peruse Net-a-Porter and browse sumptuous wedding gowns from Lanvin, Vionette, Valentino, Stella McCartney, and many more. Special shoes from Alexander McQueen, Jimmy Choo and Christian Louboutin will also be at the ready, as well as an array of other accessories for brides-to-be.

The difference between procuring one's gown in this manner rather than crashing a David's Bridal or Vera Wang attelier is that all the same Net-a-Porter perks apply. The dresses ship immediately after the order is placed and come in the signature Net-a-Porter box (although for these orders the box will be white instead of their signature black). Of course, another obvious difference is that these dresses, having been created in the most storied of houses, are said to have more of a fashion slant to them rather than going the traditional bridal gown route.

Dresses will range from $300 to $12,000, and if you've got a ring on your finger already, charmingly coupled with no plans for nuptuals, or happily plan to stay a bachelorette forever, there's no harm in taking a peek just for fun.

2010 Oscar Costume Nom Nom Noms

Well howdy do.

It's the same thing every year. I post the films whose costumes were nominated for Best Achievement in Costume Design, chat about it for a quick minute, and make my prediction. This will mark the fourth year in a row of me sticking my fingers in this mess but let me start out by saying that A Single Man was robbed! Not just in this category but in every category - ROBBED! Robbed like a 24-hour Waffle House just off the interstate exit. Below are the five films left holding the bag. GO!

Janet Patterson, for Bright Star. Patterson is no stranger to period pieces, as she also has Oscar and Lucinda, The Piano, and Portrait of a Lady to her credit. All three of those films were nominated for Best Costume in their time as well, but never won. Jane Champion, director of Bright Star, directed The Piano as well.

Catherine Leterrier for Coco Avant Chanel. Ms. Leterrier has an extensive resume which mostly consists of a slew of French films that I have never heard of. This is her first Oscar nomination.

Monique Prudhomme for The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Ms. Prudhomme has a varied costuming resume, which includes Best in Show, Juno, Snow Dogs, The Lizzie MacGuire Movie, and a bunch of Christmas TV specials. This is her first shot at Oscar glory.

Colleen Atwood for Nine. Ms. Atwood is no stranger to the Academy awards. She has already won twice, and very recently so, for Chicago and Memoirs of a Geisha - two films that could not be more different in their costuming vision, which impresses me quite a bit. I tip my hat to you Colleen. Her other nominations stem from her work in Sweeney Todd, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Sleepy Hollow, Beloved, and Little Women. She has also costumed Edward Scissorhands, Silence of the Lambs, Gattaca, and Mars Attacks. Somebody's got Tim Burton on speed dial, no?

Sandy Powell for The Young Victoria. Sandy has also already won Oscar gold twice: for The Aviator and Shakespeare in Love. Additional credits include Interview with the Vampire, Velvet Goldmine, Gangs of New York, and Mrs. Henderson Presents.

Best Achievement in Costume Design is my favorite Oscar category, and true to form, I have seen none of these movies. Not a one. And if the Academy is true to form, they will stay the course and vote for the bodice ripper like they almost always do. But holy bustles and corsets, there are two of those this year (Bright Star and The Young Victoria). So by pure default I am predicting that Young Victoria will send Bright Star to the guillotine and walk away with that coveted statuette.

I have to admit that seeing all five films with female costume designers makes me smile, as does the fact that a film about fashion and one of fashion's most legendary figures is up there too. I'll even say that Coco Avant Chanel is the dark horse that could ride up and pull Young Victoria through a muddy polo field to take the gold. Maybe. Foreign films almost never win for Best Costume because they are not as widely seen as the domestics.