Favorite of the Day: Erdem

Learning about the adult aspects of florals has been a slow process. It started with those patterns that barely alluded to blooms.

And it's been urged forward by Erdem.

The fall collection was much darker than its ethereal spring counterpart. Less stark and more muddled. But, of course, there are some things I prefer that way.



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Favorite of the Day: Margaret Howell

I prefer writing outside of the house. On a stoop. In the back corner of a coffee shop. At the library. On those days that I can devote completely to writing, or to reading whatever book I can get my hands on, my wardrobe shifts. There is little fussiness. No headbands and bracelets and all those things that seem to get in the way when it's time to settle down. That, if I do find myself writing while wearing them, have to be taken off and placed on the table next to me. I prefer clothes that are easy, comfortable and classic in those moments. Margaret Howell showed a runway full of those types of clothes.

The kind that make me want to reach for my notebook and lose an afternoon.



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Favorite of the Day: Jaeger London

Women are not often taught to play with proportion when it comes to dressing. It is a tricky task to undertake as one can easily become convinced that she'll be accentuating all of those things she's spent a lifetime learning how to obfuscate. Yet at Jaeger London, there was nothing to fear as classic fall pieces in not quite right shapes made their way down the runway.

Oversized lapels engulfed peacoats. Shoulders were large, rounded and reminiscent of those seen in the 1940s as opposed to their shaper 1980s counterparts. When you reach the end, none of it seems as off as it did on first viewing.



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Favorite of the Day: Ralph Lauren

When the current state of American sportswear is discussed, three labels are generally the first to be mentioned. Calvin Klein. Michael Kors. Ralph Lauren. Lauren tends to be the most opulent of the three. With western influences, or the specter of the East Coast preppy, looming large throughout the collections. But this season Lauren looked to East Asia for inspiration. However, what caught my eye were the parade of chic and sharp black dresses that alluded to that American sportswear tradition.

They are a much-needed palette cleanser as everything moves to London.


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Favorite of the Day: Milly

There is one show every season that makes my New England roots appear. It's that side of myself that has multiple pairs of argyle knee highs to wear with her ballet flats. And piles various striped tops under her blazers. The side that meticulously cares for her equestrian-style boots. And pairs her oxfords with almost everything including her gold, sequined miniskirt.

It was that girl who internally squealed with delight while perusing the pictures from the Milly show.

There was something easier and less rigid about the clothes. A slouchiness that has been all over the runway this week. It gave everything a more adult edge.

It's an element I feel that my wardrobe is sometimes missing.


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Favorite of the Day: Halston

On our somewhat cluttered mantle, hidden among pictures of my sister and I at various ages, there is a photograph of my mother at age 26. I first encountered the picture when I, at barely 26, returned home from New York. There she was, all legs and afro. An enviable body really, long and lithe. Her position in the photo emanated a kind of ease that I have trouble possessing myself. At times I encounter the vestiges of the woman in that picture when I roam through her closet. I imagine that she would have been as in love with the Halston collection shown yesterday as I was.

Even with my reliance on all things restrained and tailored, the idea of a little fluidity intrigues me.


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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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