Where to Wear White. Wear to Where White?

I’ll be honest, I messed up the h’s in the above title quite a few times. So I just went with it.

Wearing white and staying white is no small feat. Especially when you are out for dinner or drinks or anywhere besides a clean room. That is empty, with no dust. Which means, me taking my new dress on a hiking expedition, albeit a paved one, was probably not the best idea. But, while out-a-wandering, I realized that the only thing I could do in this is mingle at a party that served fruit-salad without strawberries. So that’s something.

White is allegedly one of the “colors of the season” which means I have to have it, but it must also mean that fashion people don’t make dinner plans and don’t have friends. See, that’s me above, acting like a fashion person. You know, wearing footwear to impractical destinations and wandering around. “Hey friends, where are you? Do I have friends? Mom?”

Dressing in doesn’t always get you in with the in crowd, I guess. But I promise it won’t leave you wandering around the woods along either. What I can tell you is that head-to-toe white looks amazing and new, and this is coming from a person who is already head-to-toe white.  It works anywhere but a wedding. Cocktails, dinner parties, BBQs whatever. I am totally into it. In fact, there is a new white Panama hat sitting at my feet and I am trying to devise a way to photoshop it into these photos.

I’m also planning in my head, that has the hat on it now, a brunch date for my boyfriend to take me on so that I can put this lil’ number on again. I’ll add the hat and pre-sun-soak and we’ll see if I don’t make some friends then!

Dress, Kimberly Ovitz. Shoes, BCBG Max Azria. Bag, See by Chloe.

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Heaven is in Oregon

Image Courtesy of Angel Vine. Note, this is a more expensive bottle and probably also delicious.

2009 Angel Vine Columbia Valley Zinfandel. Holy Moses, literally this time. Apparently angels on the vine translate to pure heaven in a glass. For those of you who drink red wine in the summertime (you know who you are) I commend you for your commitment to health and antioxidants and recommend that you try this bottle immediately. Or a glass, or a bottle, which ever you want. It’s summertime, get on a roof and get drinking! If it’s as sweltering where you are as it is where I am, you may want to keep the bottle under the air conditioning though…yikes.

  While I was mosey-ing around the internet for information on the winery, I found this picture of Zinfandel grapes (on the left) and Pinot Noir grapes (on the right). Car keys on top. I’m not really sure what any of this means, but I thought it was an interesting picture.

Zinfandels are infamous for their less-expensive, White-Zinfandel manifestations. These grapes are fruity and sweet, and therefore can be bottled in some pretty awful tasting ways. A good Zinfandel, like this one here, is fruity and dry, a little sweet but not in a tastes-like-the-wine-from-church kind of way.

These wines are very much American, this was the most commonly planted grape in California before it was overtaken by the Cabernet Sauvignon. And I am telling you, this is a must-try bottle, I mean it. Be Patriotic. Drink Wine.

A Closet Full of…Meh…

It’s summertime sales season, and it has been quite a chore to put my credit card back in the little pocket in my wallet where it belongs when there are things like this, and this running around for 50% off. I’ve resorted to asking my best friend, “Do I Need This?” before I make any purchase. She has definitely nixed a few things and I think my closet will eventually thank her for it. On the other hand, she has made some alternative suggestions, including trading a floral jean purchase for waxed boa-print denim. Who knows where her true loyalties lie. But, my bank account is grateful. Me, I’m not sure how I feel about her right now…

Untitled #129

Long Dress, Acne. Sunglasses, Karen Walker. Black pumps, Altuzarra. Hat, Brixton. Ankle Boots, Alexander Wang. Floral Dress, Haute Hippie. Pink Skirt, Marc Jacobs. Red Dress, Babajaan. Fringe Boots, Maison Martin Margiela, 22. Floral Romper, Etoile Isabel Marant. Jacket, Vanessa Bruno.

What we did discuss is putting the money aside that I might’ve spent on something that is kinda…alright, for something that I would invest it and wear for a whole season or longer. I have so many clothes in my closet that I will never ever wear/can’t fathom what encouraged me to make the purchase. If half of my stuff wasn’t in storage right now I would visually demonstrate my problem. But I can’t so close your eyes and think gold sequined vest. I know it’s a vest with glitter, and so it’s probably amazing, but actually it is terrible so don’t get ahead of yourself.

The point is that if I took out everything in my closet I hated, and might not have really even liked when I bought it, I could probably pay off my law school debt buy the entire Isabel Marant spring collection. That’s not true of course, you can’t really trade Zara for Isabel, unless of course we are talking about this, but you see my point. A penny saved is a penny closer to some other pair of future shoes that I am dying over, but in the meantime it’s these. Which might even save the gold vest, but then again, that really undercuts my argument.

I really hoped I’d make it somewhere in this writing, to impart you with some life-shopping lesson, but I feel that I have more words than you have attention. So good luck through this, the best shopping time of the year.

Inspiration for a Wednesday Night

It hasn’t stopped raining for days it feels like. Therefore, I have been stuck inside for days being subjected to both Bar Studying videos and all of these new tumblr blogs explaining how terrible bar studying is through the use of “memes” as I am told they are called. Clever as it is, I don’t feel as though a Darth Vader Shoulder-Shake accurately depicts my feelings about third year of law school. But I’m just one person. Who happens to think, enough of this already. 

Luckily, though, I have plans to venture out of the house later this evening, and wouldn’t you know that means a glass or two of wine and a chance to get dressed up. I’ve been pretty obsessed with the outfits that a few-fellow bloggers have been putting together, and being that its June, and therefore summer colors are adequate, its miserable out which pretty much opens up my entire closet.

Leandra Medine, pure brilliance.

Columbine Smille I want to be you.

chicmuse.com pure beauty

So, I’m not sure any of this works for this evening, because we are staying sort of on the outside of town, but on the other hand we are having wine before hand so I find it unlikely I make it out of the house before throwing on glitter, animal print, or just “it all to the wind” (get it) and putting on a solo-piece just so I can thoughtfully pose everywhere and think “What happens if I have to go to the bathroom?” 

I’ve been drinking a lot of wine (no Mom, not a lot of wine. Ok a lot of wine) that I haven’t been telling you about and by golly its time to catch up. Also, that gives me an excuse to pour a glass right now, even though it’s not quite 5 pm. It’s for the photo and I wouldn’t want to waste it!

The first, a light Rioja rosé from Spain. The color is what sold me on it (I like my rosés rose-y) as well as the grape combination. It’s largely a Garnacha and Viura, which is a blend of both red and white grapes. It’s easy to tell upon drinking, because it has a lot of body, but it is crisp and refreshing at the same time. I say that it’s easy,  but it wasn’t until I looked it up that I realized it included white grapes! I feel like that last sentence could use a Meme. Plus, look at the color. SO Rose-y!

The other two are French, and I don’t want to overwhelm your senses with alcohol. I’ll update you soon! It’ll be like a surprise!

Close to the Vest

I just wanted to write a quick thank you to those of you who read and comment and like my blog. It seriously means the whole-wide-world to me that you tune in to read my incoherent rants, and look at pictures of shoes with my feet in them. I have read most of your work, you followers you, and you are all so talented, I can’t even believe I’m on your radar. I love you, even if I don’t know you. Getting the email that I have a new follower, or that someone liked a post just makes my day, so thank you all so much for your interest and support.

So this happened this weekend:

No I didn’t finish either of these. Swear. But only because I ate a burrito and ice cream before this.

That’s a face that says, Yes, I know I only hang out with boys, but I do not have the stomach of a boy. Although I do appreciate the sentiment. That’s also a pose that says, hey look! Little Phillip made it out to play. 

My best friend noted that I have been wearing vests a lot, and its true I have. Perhaps, I am harboring some resentment toward my two upper limbs. On account of a new workout regime, I haven’t been able to lift them above my shoulders, and damn it my hair isn’t up to its standard of cleanliness. On the other hand, it could just be because vests are not only a totally practical piece of transitional outerwear, but are also an automatic way to look like you can handle yourself in a fight. No? Ok, well I think I look cool.

Throw a biker vest over a summer dress. Mix any of these with a maxi skirt and a tank top. Anytime you have a boring totally classic t-shirt and jeans combo, any of these will take you up a notch.

Untitled #127

 

Food for Thought

Dinner last night. Lotsa wine, no tequila which I suppose now makes me a double liar. Also, in lieu of fringe I wore floral and stripes as a way of adapting to the fact that the temperatures were low and my lower limbs were somewhat unshaven.

Top, Urban Outfitters. Vest, Rag & Bone. Clutch, Marc by Marc Jacobs. Jeans, J Brand.

Shoes, Pour La Victoire. Nars Orgasm Blush. Tom Ford Perfume. Madewell bracelet.

I’m not going to say the name of the restaurant because I don’t have a lot of nice things to say and I’m more of what they call a gossiper. Plus, I already told you the genre and neighborhood so if you’re really dying to know I’m sure you can figure it out on your own. Double plus, if you ask me I’ll tell you.

During dinner, I often shift into my food-critic alter-ego to analyze the precision of the cooking techniques (“This steak is SO not medium”), the creativity of the dish and the appearance of the plate. I’m telling you, they could someone should pay me for this stuff. Last night, the filet was very much overcooked, the swiss chard was so salty I couldn’t eat it, and we were pretty sure that the cornbread puree was cornbread batter. The goat-cheese cheesecake was overcooked and tart, with really-tart strawberries on top and stale, whole pistachios on the side.  The meal was not terrible, but it wasn’t great either.

Being that we are now law school graduates and were nearing the end of our second bottle of wine, we took the conversation up a notch to discuss the overall complacency of food, restaurants and eating in general. This was the third or fourth time we went to a restaurant recommended by friends that turned out to be mediocre at best. When did it become acceptable to serve a relatively expensive yet totally mediocre steak? Just because something is a filet, or a short rib doesn’t mean it’s automatically delicious! Where is this going? Mom? Are you still there? 

Seriously, with all this worry about organic-this, low-cal-that, people seem to have lost focus on what actually tastes good. All cheesecakes are not made equal. Stop eating bad cheesecake. Please. Because then there won’t be bad cheesecake anymore and then I don’t have to risk bad cheesecake after I turn down the chocolate molten cake. Please.

Jewelmint Earrings. Vintage Cigar Box.

Tequila Shoes

So back to the basics, what I am drinking on a Wednesday night. I felt, however, that yesterday gave too much of a tip-off as to what was in my glass so I thought I would just move forward with it. If I said, Oh this bottle of wine is lovely etcetera etcetera you all would call me a liar because I told you yesterday I was drinking tequila with the BF. Of course, I could have wine before the tequila, but then again, its Wednesday.

So here I am, not lying, albeit not yet drinking tequila either (still plenty of time in the day for coffee). I’m reliving yesterday’s post a bit and daydreaming about how many articles of clothing I can fringe, while simultaneous recognizing that if its going to be a Margarita or a Mezcal evening, I better get me some sturdy shoes. Or these. I can rely on the boyfriend to wear flats.

Image Courtesy of jakandjil.com

I’ve learned more about tequila in the last few years. Some has been peer-pressured into my stomach by a friend of mine who can drink it like water and yet never seems to have any annunciation issues. Other times, it has come in a punch bowl. Once it even came in the form of my favorite drink, an Old Fashioned, at The Stanton Social in New York. More than once it has come in the way of Mezcal flights with tomato juice. Which I suppose isn’t technically tequila, but it’s awfully close.

I’ve also learned that tequila does not inevitably become a hurricane of a hangover, rather, if done correctly, it’s actually quite the cooperative spirit. I’m particularly partial to Corzo although the partiality is partially due to the fact that I find the bottle to be the most beautiful.

What is your favorite? Favorite Tequila creation? Favorite tequila memory that you can’t remember?

Back with Bags

Under my eyes and under my arm.

I know I said I was back, but now I am really back. Actually this time. Sometimes, little life-y things like landlords and graduation parties and whatnot get in the way. Of blogging. About my life.

Here’s an instagram recap:

 

The good news, as I hope is clear, is that all those activities were marvelous, and delicious. The better news is that little Phillip and Little Marc (above) arrived almost a week early which means its blogging time again! Oh heavens how I’ve missed it (and you dear readers).

Come see their new adventures aka stay tuned because I forgot to bring my camera cord today so I can’t upload the pictures. It’s a soft opening/return. Except for that it’s my second soft opening. Ok bye….

He Said She Said: The Great Peplum Debate

Times are tough, the economy is no-good, and Uncle Sam isn’t so generous with his givings these days. Since when do Uncle’s charge interest? That can’t possibly be American. That puts me always on the lookout for a good deal, so when I see a two-for-one skirt, I have to get it. Even if it is technically only one skirt, that looks like two skirts, it still sends the message hey I am resourceful and very conscious of my budget.

To ensure that my investment in this skirt (available here) would be worth it, I sent this picture (while still clearly in the dressing room) to my best friend who told me “Where can’t you wear that?!?” Those were my sentiments exactly so into the ol’ shopping bag it went. Walking home, I realized I could eat a whole thanksgiving dinner and hide it under that top-skirt and figured I no longer had to save binge eating for one day a year. Holler.

I literally tried on four variations of the peplum trend, and planned on purchasing them all. However, I do enjoy eating during the week, and so thought it best my resources be used only for that peplum-piece that won over everyone’s hearts. Except for the one I already got. So surveying away I went.

Also available at Zara.

Lesson #1: No amount of style can save you from a sorry-looking expression. The extra layer of fabric went unnoticed to most of my male survey members, one of whom stated “The only place I’d want to take her is Great Clips.” Another stated, “She looks confused and I am just as confused as she is, is there a zipper under there?” I wasn’t sure what relevance the garment’s closure had until another told me it looked like it was made for easy urinal access. I guess that counts as resourceful.

On the other hand, some of my girlfriends thought this looked like a fun way to be serious while being serious and fun (my words not theirs). One (in marketing, in NYC, non-Peggy style) thought this serious/creative balance would help her boss realize the need to give her a well-earned promotion. Yet another thought the business on-top-party-on-the-bottom combo made her a solid choice for a cheap beer, liquid lunch date. You know, for bizniz.

Honestly though, I was a little disheartened by the lack of offense the male-participants took with that skirt. So disheartened in fact, I considered sending them a bunch of pictures of celebrities with short hair. Instead, I found this top which to me looks perfect for a work party, or holiday event, or bad-day when I need a little bit of glitter and cute. I was disheartened again to learn that the only event my friend though appropriate for this number would be a Carrot Top Show because I wouldn’t be the strangest thing in the room.

Top by Mulberry

Most of the offense came with the fact that the girl was pictured without a face, some wondered how fast she could run in cheetah shoes. One thought she resembled the Dutch Boy who serves as representative for the butter company, but then again, no that can’t be because she has a nice body and therefore likely avoids butter. All of my friends agreed that this shirt was way to cutesy (“She should go somewhere cliche, like a bachelorette party or “girls night”) to be worth the investment. And you all know I love a good consensus piece. I might not have thoroughly explained that yet…

Overall to me, that makes the first skirt a winner and the second shirt a loser. I’m not sure my desire to look professional at a work party (assuming I go to one of those someday) can be overcome by an association with Carrot Top.

Also I feel like I should give a Lesson #2 to provide some context to the first Lesson (above) but I can’t think of anything off the top of my head. 

What do you think? Have you jumped on board the Peplum Trend? Would you wear any of these things? Please save me from embarrasment before I go full-peplum!

Romance and Rubber Heels

The only redeeming characteristic of the cold front that came in between two weeks of summer was that it gave me an excuse to put my favorite shoes of last season back on for one more last hurrah if you will.

Boots, Loeffler Randall. Jeans, Paige Premium Denim

 Yet in putting these back on, after a few weeks of flip-flops and wedge sneakers, I realized that my sprained ankle had not, in fact, healed. I, of course, realized this while putting my makeup on and listening to Call Me Maybe Boyfriend cool, hip music well before I left the house to go downtown to Eastern Standard for one last evening out before the rush of paper writing and outlining. I thought, just for a moment, I should protect my only right ankle I will ever have and put on flat boots. Then, a moment later, I realized I would have weeks of protecting my ankle and what would one more night out on the town with an ankle sprain really mean in the long run? After all, I’m 25 which I beginning to realize goes both ways in this argument.

Lace up Oxfords, Proenza Schouler.

On the one hand, I clearly still have incredibly limber ankles despite my increasing age. On the other hand, I already have arthritis in one of my toes after an unfortunate walking-right-into-the-wall accident a couple of years ago. Whatever my condition, it is clear that these things (stilettos or heels in general) almost surely involve some sort of pain or another, but for some reason, I can’t give them up. In fact, I love them. Love.

What is it about them that is so addicting? More so than any other real item of apparel that I own. I am always on the lookout for shoes, always. I am in awe of girls who do not enjoy.love.breathe shoes. Partly because I want to be them and partly because I wonder what is wrong with them. There is no good reason for this love affair that so many women all over the world suffer from. So what is it?! I’m pretty sure I spent every dollar I made last year on clothing, and 2/3 of that was on shoes. What is it?!?