Favorite of the Day: Dolce & Gabbana

If I had to I could pinpoint when the shift started at Dolce & Gabbana. When the clothes deviated from the sexiness for sexiness' sake mantra that has become less and less important in Milan. When the inspiration began to sprout from the long, storied, tortuous, and bloody history of Italy. But the exact moment is unimportant. It's this Dolce & Gabbana, the one that has entered a second act of sorts, that continues to captivate me.

This season the focus was on the ruins of the once great Roman empire, both architectural and monetary. Oversized sequins called to mind a melting pot filled with emperor-faced coins. Vines of flowers mimicked those that one might find littering long broken columns.

And sometimes the silhouettes called to mind a more recent Italian image, that seen in mid-20th century cinema.


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Fresh Starts

A few days ago as I was catching my breath otherwise known as sprawling out on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and enjoying the silence, I realized something. I didn't feel like writing about London or Milan or Paris this season. It was hard enough grasping for straws in New York. Maybe I could give myself a break. Maybe I could ignore the rest altogether.

Things have been crazy. Not bad crazy necessarily (though there was some of that because, really, let’s think about whose life this is) but dizzying and distracting crazy. A pile of fashion magazines dating back to the all-important September issues sits unread in a corner of my room. A number of pre-Fall 2013 collections have already been shown. Some of the pieces that rest in my Spring/Summer 2013 bookmark folders have started to sneak their way into stores.

So I've decided to give it up. To skip the last three cities. And, most importantly, to not beat myself up about it. I spent most of my childhood and adolescence associating moving on or changing direction with failure. But life outside of school has taught me otherwise. And if forcing myself to write a few blog posts that not that many people read is going to make my hair start falling out, it’s not worth it. It's not failure. It’s simply honesty.

So I’ll read my magazines and start again with pre-Fall and not worry or stress about it like I do about so much else. About almost everything else. And I’ll tell you, like I do almost every year, what I’d like to wear on New Year’s Eve. Sure I’ll probably just closet dive and pick something long forgotten, but if I had my way, I would be wearing one of these two variations on a theme.

Prim and Proper

Trim and Chic

Either one would start me well on the road to temporarily forgetting that I have to work at 10 AM on New Year's Day.

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Favorite of the Day: Maria Grachvogel

After a very dark and somewhat menacing New York season, I was ready for something different as the London shows began. Not lighter or softer necessarily but easier.

At Maria Grachvogel on February 17th, I found just that.

Clothing that flowed. Fabrics that draped. A sexuality that lived just beneath the surface.


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Favorite of the Day: Tory Burch

Last night, while treating myself to a single lady glass of wine, I played constantly with my phone and occasionally tweeted.

My secretary blouse makes me look like a present. A surly, sarcastic present. #bows #singlegirlproblems
— Samantha Powell (@sdpowell1) February 15, 2012

In general, I take my presence on Twitter as a challenge to be as witty and ridiculous as possible in 140 characters or less. Yet this quip rang with a certain amount of truth, as after all of these years, I still favor the sweet and prim and proper in my dressing. I never did break out The Vest during that summer I spent floating all around Boston in dresses. I still temper my miniskirts with ballet flats. But there's a current directly beneath the surface that many don't see. Or choose not to.

The Tory Burch girl was her usual sweet self this year. Or so it seemed. Instead of Palm Springs or The Breakers, she appeared to be spending the cold winter months in the heart of Manhattan's upper echelons. There were flowers in soft blush tones. And skirts and dresses of just the right length. But during the day, her very long, black leather gloves winked at passerby.

And at night, her navy leather pants told the real story.


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Favorite of the Day: Wes Gordon

I've had my eye on Wes Gordon and the Upper East Side vein that runs through his collection for the past few seasons. Beautifully tailored and impeccably styled, his girl seemed to be waiting for the time when she could take her place among the ladies who lunch.

But this season, she seemed a bit roughed up. A bit unbuttoned.

As if she had one of those long nights that leaves you tired, disheveled, and a little exhilarated.


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Favorite of the Day: Givenchy

As Spring/Summer 2012 winds down, I can't help but search for the trends of the season in every show. Not only those trends that reappear every year as the cold weather leaves us but also the ephemeral ones that will be everywhere and then suddenly nowhere. At Givenchy, both the pastels of spring and the peplums of 2012 featured rather prominently.

The peplums were origami-like. The pastels were stripped of their fussiness. And with that, it felt different than everything else seen during the past month.


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Favorite of the Day: Band of Outsiders

Most events are said to come in threes. Deaths. Births. Trends on the runway. So it should be no surprise that in my third favorite from the New York Spring/Summer 2012 shows, I continue to ignore the prevailing winds. It won't last for long. I won't continue to be quite so contrary and quite so stubborn as I play catch up on my favorites. But the Band of Outsiders show on September 10th gave me a reason to stay on that path for a bit longer.

After wearing sundresses and lightweight sweaters and various pairs of shorts for the past few months, the idea of spending next summer in clothes that so deftly mixed a frothy femininity and a restrained masculinity excited me.

Because they would allow me to be this and that all at once.


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Shorts Story

As the clouds rolled in and I bundled up at an outdoor brunch in April, I stated rather plainly that the time of year where I stop wearing pants was approaching. My go-to for most of that month had been any one of the numerous pairs of jeans that I own. Pegged when the temperature rose. Worn full length when there was a chill in the air. But now that May is coming to a close, my reliance on denim will begin to wane in favor of skirts and sundresses. And perhaps one more item.

Getting over my various clothing neuroses has been a long, tortuous process. The breasts. The legs. The colorful. The adult. Dealing with all of those leftover middle and high school insecurities that caused me to spend most of college either using my clothes to hide from the world and myself or to show how well I could fit in. Most of those impulses have faded away at this point. Yet for all of my steps in the right direction, all of the shaking off of the dowdy, insecure girl I once was, there are still remnants of her that appear occasionally.

In the past five years, I’ve bought exactly three pairs of shorts. A pair of denim walking shorts that fall just above the knee in the summer of 2006, a navy chino pair in a similar length in the summer of 2009, and a shorter chambray pair in early 2010. The denim pair has been worn on and off but without any real frequency since I purchased them. I spent most of the summer and early fall of 2009 in the navy pair. The chambray pair made brief appearances during the summer of 2010 and, like the navy pair before them, lived on into the fall complemented by black or gray tights. (My mother bought me a seersucker pair with sailor buttons last summer that has never been worn due to the fact that I have limits on the amount of preppiness that I allow myself to emit at one time.)

Shorts are one of the last items that I approach gingerly in stores. That I’m not compelled to bring into the fitting room with me. And I try on everything. Because I want them but can’t afford to buy them. Because they make for fun “twirling in front of the mirror" material. Because I’m simply curious.  But with my adolescent insecurities roaring through my head and colliding with my latent good girl tendencies, shorts never make it into the room.

I've decided that I should take a second look. That purchasing only three pairs of a summer staple over the past five years was a bit ridiculous considering my shopping habits. That maybe I should have more shorts in my closet than lip products in my purse. (There are six currently hiding in various pockets.) 

So there is the casual, linen pair in a sunfaded yellow from Level 99

That can be paired with a simple tank from Old Navy

A navy and white striped, lightweight cardigan by Rag & Bone

And cross-strap flats in camel from Marais USA

Then there is the more formal pair by Alice & Olivia

That can be topped off with a shimmering tank from 3.1 Phillip Lim

And finished with equally shimmery red flats by Repetto.

Or the denim pair from Joe's Jeans

That can be complimented by a Rag & Bone cable knit sweater with a bit of swing

And colorful sneakers from Urban Outfitters

The plans have been made. Now to actually go through with them.



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Favorite of the Day: Zac Posen

When Zac Posen is mentioned, I often think of the dramatic, the over the top. He's a showman and one of the best that the industry has to offer. But there are times when all of that drama and all of that pomp can weigh down the clothes.

This season, however, he stripped things down. All of the clothes showed a certain amount of restraint, and that restraint removed the fog. Suddenly one could see more of the mastery and artistry behind the garments.

There was still flare and flash and spark. But never too much.



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Favorite of the Day: Iceberg

First and foremost, when I get dressed in the fall and winter, I think of how to stay warm. Stylishness, though not forgotten, comes second. There are exceptions of course, but I try to remember that not loosing feeling in my extremities should always be at the front of my mind. Finding those items that will keep you warm while also allowing some expression of individuality can be difficult. To wear those heavier fabrics of the season without getting lost in them can seem impossible.

At Iceberg, tweeds and nubby, thick knits dominated.

But they came in cuts and colors that allow the wearer to peak through.


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Favorite of the Day: Marc Jacobs

In fashion writing and criticism, people are always looking for fresh yet succinct way to describe things. Especially now that most of those watching the shows from the front lines find themselves armed with smart phones and only 140 characters to spare.

I watched the Marc Jacobs show much as I have so many shows during the past two major seasons. With my computer on my lap and some sort of snack at my side. After the show, as I began to read all of the various commentary people typed out from their seats, there were definite patterns. Numerous decades were thrown around. The 1940s girl. The 1950s girl. The 1970s girl. Oh, and this girl was being taken on a trip. To the brothel. To the sex shop. To the future.

Nothing changed as of this morning. People's thoughts were everywhere and nowhere at once, trying to grasp exactly what they had seen the night before.

In a long ago college English class, another student complained about the fact that we could never just enjoy the books that we read. That we were muddying up the text by spending so much time discussing the author's voice or whatever else it was that we spouted to make ourselves sound smart.

There are, of course, times and places for that type of analysis. I am not immune and often feel the need to parse and define on sight. But I should spend more time letting the beauty of certain things remain undefinable.

Even if I can only stand to do it for a moment.


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