Favorite of the Day: Gabriele Colangelo

It's not as if I need any more coats.

But I do want one from Gabriele Colango.


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Favorite of the Day: Luisa Beccaria

Playful monochromatic ensembles were on display at Luisa Beccaria.

You can punch up more than just all black.


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Favorite of the Day: Prada

Just because I can't wear ruffles at the chest as they were shown at Prada...

Doesn't mean I don't have little girl moments where I wish I could.

Also, my lust for clothes that remind me of the women of Mad Men soldiers on.


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Favorite of the Day: William Tempest

Still in a cocktail kind of mood.

But of the architectural sort seen at William Tempest.


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Favorite of the Day: Paul Smith

Dropped in among his more classic English dressing, Paul Smith provided dresses for all those places I go and people I see.

Also known as my many trips out for coffee.


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Legs For Days

In my past life, when I disliked clothes that drew attention to me, I rarely wore anything short. (Not that this isn't the case now. The drawing attention not the short.) Blessed with legs that were long and shapely even in my heavier days, I could make most anything look short. For that and many other reasons, it wasn't until after college that I bought my first real miniskirt. My first minidress didn't enter my closet until sometime in the middle of my tenure in New York. But even after buying them, they stayed hidden away. Not because I had forgotten them but because I feared them.

I know that sounds melodramatic. Why would I ever fear a piece of clothing? Much less something that took up so little space. But I did. For whatever silly, timid, little girl reason, I did. When they did depart my closet, I would spend most of the evening fidgeting. Pulling at the hem. Standing in corners. Avoiding glances.

When I stop and think about it, my issue with The Short can be traced to my past discomfort with The Sexy. Or at least the overtly so. In the past, sexy meant many things to me, and none of them were particularly good. Smart. Pretty. Funny. These were all positive adjectives in my world. Not necessarily words that I always associated with myself but words I understood.

Things changed quickly in the summer of 2008 when, spurred on by my internship, I decided that I needed to learn how to wear them. I had been slowly ridding my closet of things I never planned on wearing again. Things that were too small or too large or simply not me anymore. But as the skirts few outings into the greater world had less to do with them and more to do with my various neuroses, they did not find their way into the discard pile. I was set on making them a part of my life. That September I wore a blue and white patterned mini to a fashion show with sweet mary janes, a black tank and The Cardigan. In some ways, that was the beginning of the end.

That Halloween, while lazily dressed as a devil, I paired my black minidress with red tights. When February arrived, I ran through the East Village in the patterned skirt and mary janes paired with a white sweater, gray tights and a black, cotton motorcycle jacket. As that Fashion Week progressed, two minidresses joined the fray complemented by black leggings and my equestrian style boots.

Moving home and feeling particularly feisty when it came to dressing, the skirt collection increased threefold. A-line. Corduroy. Military Green. Plaid. Tights in every color from green to black to pink to silver were found on my legs. Ballet flats and equestrian boots and heeled oxfords and wedges sat on my feet. Before New Year's Eve, I pranced around the house in the black minidress I had purchased for that evening. I stopped pulling and tugging and playing around.

The answer, in the end, was to find a way to make them all mine somehow.

Be that preppy or girly or boyish or sexy.

Favorite of the Day: Richard Nicoll

Blues and grays are my favorite neutral tones. A peek into my closet will find a lot of both.

This season Richard Nicoll shares that love.


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Favorite of the Day: Mark Fast

Mark Fast is known on the London scene for his body-hugging knits. This season they were supplemented with pieces that showed off the body in a different way.

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The Boots

In high school, and through most of college, I only bought boots that hit me mid-calf. Clunky and awkward. Aging me quickly. Most of them are still here in my mother's house, collecting dust among my old toys and books. Sometimes I look at them and think about what might have possessed me to get them. But this is a sentiment I have when it comes to many of my clothing from those days.

By the winter of 2005, I had been looking for a pair of knee-high leather boots for months without much success. It wasn't until I found myself on an outing with a family friend that I finally found one. Black leather. Zippers on the inner part of the leg for easy entry. Sturdy wedges. I wore them all of the time. With skirts and dresses. With my first pair of skinny jeans. I wore them so much that I busted through one of the heels. I continued to wear them even after that until finally giving them over to a trusty cobbler.


My best friend calls them my Power Ranger boots, especially when I tuck my pants into them. As if putting them on suddenly endows me with super strength or speed or brains.

They garner unwanted attention from random men. As if putting them on suddenly makes me easy.

I have a tendency to strut in them. Over cobblestone and concrete. Through puddles of slush. Especially when my iPod lands on the raucous pop music that I only listen to when not around others.

They and The Sneakers are my two oldest pairs of shoes, but I've never forgotten these. Even for a moment.

Favorite of the Day: Tommy Hilfiger

It's rather fitting that my last favorite of this New York Fashion Week was the last show ever to be presented at the tents in Bryant Park.

At least one show a season causes my New England roots to reveal themselves. In New York, that show was Tommy Hilfiger.

Also, can I order one of these? Thanks.

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Favorite of the Day: Christian Cota

In the midst of all of the beautiful neutrals, one needs a splash of colorful prints.

Christian Cota provides the solution.


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Favorite of the Day: Chris Benz

This morning I set out on a bit of internet research to find out if and where Chris Benz is sold in Massachusetts. I was not exactly surprised when that answer was nowhere. Not because the clothes aren't beautiful but because the youthful, fun vibe that emanates from his clothing isn't really a New England thing.

But it should be.


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Favorite of the Day: Victoria Beckham

I thought my days of taking style cues from a Spice Girl were long gone.

Victoria Beckham has proven me wrong.


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Favorite of the Day: Helmut Lang

Black is boring. Black is slimming. Black is classic. Black is the new Black.

These are statements heard again and again in reference to that color. And yes, all black can be boring. But so can all purple or all yellow or all teal if done incorrectly. A solid block of color rarely looks exciting on anyone. It's the mixing and matching of fabrics, the embroidery and textures, that give that color life. When a female celebrity wears black to an event, you can guarantee that one of the main critiques will be It would be so pretty if only the camera could pick up all the detailing. Yes, on camera the differences often fade away, but most of us do not live our lives on camera. We live it in front of others who can appreciate the subtlety of such an outfit if they take the time.

At Helmut Lang, layering was as present as it was in the Missoni pre-Fall collection that I loved so much. But this time it featured the color that we all love to love and love to hate.

And the prints for those so inclined.


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Favorite of the Day: Cynthia Steffe

At the end of New York fashion week last season, I stated that the 90s would be back. And they are.

But at Cynthia Steffe, it was a world populated by Cher Horowitzes as opposed to Kurt Cobains.


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