I get so excited this time of year. We’ve endured a heat wave or two. Done the beach. The rooftops. The frosty beverages. And there are definitely more of these to come…but what we’re really anticipating are the crisp days and nights of Autumn. Leaves changing color. Layering, and for me…it’s all about the return of the Shearling!
I got my shopping spree on. Vintage designer clothing (+bag +belt). Man..I made out like a bandit. Gucci belt. Gaultier jeans. Givenchy bag. Badgely Mischka evening gown, and then some. And I didn’t spend a hair more than $200.
In other news… I’m out of my slump and in my clear state of being. This is good. Very, very good – for me. Perhaps not for everybody.
So, remember how I was all in love with Chanel and decided that this year I would make my way towards purchasing my first piece of Chanel? Well, that mission was happily accomplished not too long ago. But now, I’m feeling an urge to move on…to a new design team.
My next goal in fashion is to obtain my first piece of Hermes.
I’ve got my eye on:
Let me explain this obsession to those of you who may not fully understand…
I have always had a deep appreciation for style in women’s wear. As a child I always had my preferences, as I’m sure any child does, for which types of clothing I would wear. As I entered adolescence, I found myself experimenting with unconventional looks to express my daily states of being – much to the shock and humor of my classmates at JHS 168 in Queens. The ridicule and scorn, teasing, the isolation, the egg thrown on top of my head, were all part of my defiance in defending this artistic expression of the self by way of fashion. Rocking bell bottoms and platform sneakers in 1992 wasn’t the hippest thing to do. And if I may toot my own horn, it took a tremendous amount of guts to simply be myself amidst a world where everyone was trying to “fit in” (and later bite my style, no hate).
High school was different for me. I went to an arts high school that was home to all the other people like me, so I felt free to dress as I pleased, experimenting with fabrics and materials and shapes. I actually had a hot pink rubber mini A-line skirt. In an environment that appreciated and reflected my own artistry, I felt unshackled. Until, of course, I got off the F train and had to board the Q2 bus back home. My peers in Queens were definitely not feeling me. But I didn’t care. I never cared.
And I’ve blossomed into an adult who is known for being “stylish”. And that is all right with me. I’m grateful to have come from a family of such incredibly stylish, graceful and beautiful women who have definitely helped shape my appreciation for this particular aesthetic form. For decades, I have had a keen appreciation for high fashion. I go through magazines and fashion websites, I attend shows at fashion week – and for the most part, I’ve used these showcases as inspiration and later find myself at thrift stores, discount stores, lower-end retailers, my grandmother’s closet, clothing swaps, my own room with some scissors and a needle and thread – creating my desired looks. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy this type of DIY and on-a-dime fashion sensibility and will continue to employ these tactics – but as I grow, I really do like to adorn myself with elegant attire from super creative houses of fashion. It’s been a long time coming, and I’ve definitely paid my dues!
Oh and in case you were wondering, yes, I would like to eventually move into equestrian arts – so this jump cap is part of an outfit in formation.
This certainly is not the first time.
I want this hairstyle for my fall ’09 look. Dying my hair black and rocking the mod helmet situation. Very early Beatles-esque. And I want these eyes. Fierce mascara (not going as far as false lashes…except maybe on special occasion). Light-coloured shadow for days. Dark liner – I gotta get some of that Indian eye liner from 2nd ave.
Isn’t it a shame? It’s only August 2nd and already I’m getting my “back to school” look in order. It’s like its too late for me to just enjoy whats left of this lackluster summer. Lackluster because of the raininess of it all. Though, I am about to embark on a week-long stay in sunny Florida. That should be amazing. Trying to work out a labor day weekend in Jamaica, too. Stay tuned…
When it comes to real estate, I’ve definitely had my fair share of rustic “pre-war” urban appeal. Exposed brick. Original hardwood floors. Marble fireplaces. Moulding. Fifth floor walk up. You name it, I’ve lived in it. And it has been quite lovely, actually. I’ve felt the history of my residences – too many to count – that I’ve lived in throughout these glorious twenties.
But alas, Saturn is returning. I’ve got about seven months left of this care-free decade. And I’m so comfortable in knowing that. I feel my life changing in many ways. I’m wiser. Freer. Still the same zany, sometimes hesitant (though lesser now than before), dreamer I’ve always been – just, as my friend Mike said a few weeks back during a chance encounter, “with more swag”.
And speaking of swag, I think its time I mark this growth with a change in my living arena. I want a sexy apartment. Sleek. Modern. A step toward living in a sculpture. I’ve never lived in my own apartment. Well, I subletted a studio by myself for a semester in college and hated it (I got sick early one morning and had to call an ambulance on myself). But I think now I’m ready to get my grown woman on, say goodbye to roommates and hello to some swankiness 
I mean, I just wonder what it’d be like to wake up to this…
Clean lines. Imagine that. For me, it really is all about the kitchen.
A lady just wants to entertain.
Eyes: Mac 
Cheeks: Nars 
Lips: Difficult to say, cuz I seem to never be satisfied. But, recently I’ve found an all new respect for: Revlon 
