Tongue Tied

I was making my way through the Pre-Fall 2010 collections, when I found myself without anything coherent to say near the end of the Naeem Khan presentation.

This dress is why I need fancy events to go to.


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The Other Side

I've been trying for quite awhile to increase my knowledge of men's clothing. About fits and cuts. About how to match ties with shirts with pocket squares. About how many pairs of shoes a man needs. Last month I even bought my first issue of GQ. This purchase may have had something to do with the picture featuring the men of True Blood in tuxedos or the fact that the hometown quarterback was on the cover, but I actually read the words too.


I couldn't let you go without including at least one of the pictures, but now back to the story at hand.

I’ve tried my usual store wanderings to try and get an understanding of what’s on offer for men. I’ve slowly made my way through the mazes of the H&M, Saks, Barneys and Filene’s Basement men’s departments. I looked closely at the suits. Examined the patterns. Took note of how the mannequins were styled. How the products were merchandised. And then I get home all jumbled and think yeah, I still don’t get it.

I feel like I should do interviews. Have a list of 40 in depth questions to ask a sampling of men about how they dress. But this is just the analytical part of my mind taking over and talking crazy. Trying to keep in check the part of me that simply thinks, well he’s very, very pretty, so who cares why he's wearing a three piece suit as opposed to a two piece option.

I'm going to have to force my brain to meet somewhere in the middle.


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Everyone Gather Round

I have a quick announcement to make. This has been in the works for awhile, but you can now read me once a week at a new online shopping magazine called Fashionism. This week's installment: Dark Sequins.

And I'm working on a few new things for here. Things have been a bit hectic. Having a part time job, even for the holidays, has been more time consuming than I thought.

The Nice List

This is the time of year when one is supposed to be buying for others.

But I am a seasoned shopper and don't feel the need to rush out for sales the day after Thanksgiving. I know what I'm getting everyone and spend no more than one trip of three hours rounding up various gifts.

Instead I've spent the past few days putting out feelers for my New Year's Eve dress. And I've failed miserably.

I've been to all of the stores in my price range and unless I want to look like a slutty extra from Pretty in Pink or one of Julia Roberts' streetwalker friends from Pretty Woman, it appears that I'll have to dive back into my own closet.

Or splash out for something I cannot afford.

Like this:


And these:


I wonder if Santa takes clothing orders.


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Second Glances

I've spent the past few weeks reassessing Boston.

Maybe it's that I've gotten familiar once more with the city of my birth. Or that the pain of leaving the little home, the little community, that I found myself a part of in Brooklyn has begun to fade into the background. But when I really think about it, neither of these reasons are the biggest factor.

I should have known. Or known better at least. This is a city for fall dressing. I, a native daughter, who almost rationalized buying a pair of elbow-length cashmere gloves because of their color and who has, for the past two months, found herself visiting a pair of Bottega Veneta heeled oxfords that reside in the Barneys shoe department, should have realized. Because before Princeton and London and Clinton Hill, there was this place.

So there are the cardigans and the coats. Young men who actually pull off a bow tie and cardigan combination without looking twee. Cords of all cuts and colors. Mustards and browns and hunter greens. There are tights of plum and gray worn with sweater dresses and woolen miniskirts. Scarves and hats and boots. I often find myself appraising the many pairs during very long bus rides. The wellies and the riding boots and those that lace up. Deep, soft, supple leathers covered with the marks of past winters. On warmer days, people leave their outerwear open. Relishing the last moments before everything has to stay behind the curtain of their coat in order to keep out the chill and the snow.

Boston's season is fall.

And, as such, it is mine.

Hiatus

With my computer's logic board deciding that it needed a trip to the Apple spa and job training for a little seasonal work, I've been a bit busy. Preoccupied. Unfocused. But now I'm back, and the quest for sweaters continues.



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Holiday Seasons

Everyone has a holiday. For some it's the barbecues and beaches of the 4th of July that appeal to them. For others it's the the turkey and trimmings of Thanksgiving.

And for many the playful spectacle of Halloween is more their speed. I could personally live without it. I love the candy corn but not the holiday itself. I'm always uninspired in the costume department. I found a set of pink wings here last week from my senior year of college when I went, rather uninterestingly, as a fairy. Last year, not caring until the very last minute, I bought a two dollar devil set, threw on a very, very small black dress and layered my red tights beneath my fishnets. I could not have cared less.

New Year's Eve is my holiday.

When I was seven, or maybe eight, my mother took me to a Boston Pops performance to celebrate the changing of the calendar. She made me a fantasy dress. It was gold, and I was in love with it and its twirly skirt. At midnight, we made our way down from the balcony to where they had cleared the tables away so everyone could spend the first part of that new year dancing to the sounds of the orchestra. I gazed at all of the adults in their pretty dresses and pretty tuxes and swayed gently from side to side to the music.

For the past three years, looking for a New Year's Eve dress, either in stores or in the depths of my closet, has been one of my favorite endeavors. To ring in 2007, I wore a pink BCBG. Oh, and a tiara. In 2008, it was a silver dress from H&M and a mask. For 2009, it was black from Old Navy and a set of 2009 glasses.

And for 2010, I want the dress that stopped me in my tracks in the midst of a casual stroll through Barneys yesterday.


And maybe a sparkly top hat.


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