What Should I Wear to a Premiere?

I have an extremely busy travel schedule coming up, which will include eight cities on two coasts in two weeks. Or ten cities, including layovers. It's hard to call that kind of travel vacation, but that's what I'm calling it.

I'll be vising friends and family in Seattle, and helping with a photoshoot. Then I'll head down to LA for a film premiere (and a total of thirty hours in LA). Then I fly back to New York, and six hours later take a train to New Haven, Connecticut. The next day I'll drive up to Montreal for a wedding, turn around the next day, and drive back to New York.

Then I move into a new apartment, and a few days later I leave for Philadelphia and Washington, D.C.

I'm exhausted just talking about it. So, in order to cut back on things to think about, I'm requesting advice: what should I wear to the premiere?

Look forward to hearing feedback!

xo

Schlub

On Friday, Manhattan seemed to have been hit with monsoon weather. It was humid and miserable, and that was before the massive downpour of warm rain. I had been running around all day, getting soaked, stomping in puddles, looking like a drowned rat, but somehow my friends coerced my into going out. Despite the fact that I was wearing wellies and looking waterlogged, I agreed.

On the train into midtown, I sat next to this charming transsexual, who looked exceedingly glamorous, waving her black lace fan and wearing gaudy rhinestones. I felt like even more of a schlub.
Boots: Festival by Hunter. Bag: Garnet XL with chain by Coach.

Wherefore Art Thou, Summer?

Well, it's July 1st and this is the weather forecast for New York City:

Thank goodness my new boots arrived from Gilt Groupe. I jumped on them because they're so cheap off-season, but apparently, based on the ominous weather report, I won't have to wait till autumn to make use of them.

Waiting for the inevitable muggy heat are my other new shoes: python gladiators with gold lining. Every girl should own a pair, right?

Sustainable Sartorialist

"Here's how it works: There are 7 identical dresses, one for each day of the week. Every day I will reinvent the dress with layers, accessories and all kinds of accouterments, the majority of which will be vintage, hand-made, or hand-me-down goodies. Think of it as wearing a daily uniform with enough creative license to make it look like I just crawled out of the Marquis de Sade's boudoir."

What do you think? Could you manage, or would you get cabin fever in your dress?

Read more about The Uniform Project.
HuffPo

Daria's Derring-Do

Not too long ago, I was drinking tea in a cafe on the Upper West Side and Daria Werbowy walked in and sat a few tables over from me. Inside I was a bit giddy; it's fun to see the models I write about, and Daria is one of my favorites.

I see models somewhat frequently and my reaction is usually not, "Wow, she's so gorgeous!" but rather, "Wow, she is so extreme looking." Extremely tall, extremely thin, extremely angular, and extreme eyes (my sisters and I call them hammerhead eyes, because often models eyes appear to be practically on the sides of their heads).

Daria is no exception physically, but her demeanor seemed soft. While I acknowledge that my brief and impersonal brush with Daria didn't give me luminous insight into her personality, she struck me as gentle.

Which is why I love these pictures from French Vogue so much. Here she models swimsuits atypically, and in my opinion, much more compellingly than in the run-of-the-mill swimsuit spreads we're all accustomed to this time of year.
I would like this photoshoot to inspire a movie directed by Quentin Tarantino.
Link

Jam in Tam?

Michelle hosting a poetry jam
Possibly wearing Vivienne Tam

If anyone knows
The designer of those
Colorful threads she is wearing

I beg you to tell me
and end my inquiry
To save the rest of us guessing

Ikat

Ikat, or Ikkat, is a style of weaving that uses a resist dyeing process similar to tie-dye on either the warp or weft before the threads are woven to create a pattern or design. A Double Ikat is when both the warp and the weft are tie-dyed before weaving.

Ikat means "to tie" or "to bind" in the Malay language. Wikipedia

Ikat has various international incarnations, from Indonesia to Spain to Native American tribal patterns.

A few seasons ago it found its way to the runway...

Yesterday it found its way to the cover of WWD:
There are Ikat handbags from Coach and Target... ...and Fall 09 woolens (thanks to Pendleton for Opening Ceremony).

So what do you think? Is this trend worth ikatching up on? (Sorry, sorry...).

photo source

Mummified Muses

I visited The Met this weekend to see The Model as Muse. I was able to sneak a few pictures before getting tsk-tsked by a docent.

Unfortunately, the show was desultory and uninformative. The rooms were extremely dim, making it impossible to view the intricacies of the craftsmanship. The mannequins were, obviously, cold and lifeless, and when paired with the dull lighting, the room gave off the aura of a tomb.
The exhibit winds down a narrow hallway with about three switchbacks, and it ends in a large room with a moderately impressive collection of early Nineties dresses (Anna Sui, Perry Ellis). Making my way down the dark hallways, staring at the frigid mannequins decked out in their finest, I felt like I was tunneling through a burial vault, surrounded by mummies who had taken all their lovely garments with them to the grave in hopes of recovering them in the afterlife. I was half expecting to see a little mummified pet along the way, too.
The walk is formatted like a timeline. It begins with the turn of the century, then almost immediately jumps to Dior's New Look, then it skips to Mod London (loved the YSL beaded silk organdy - part Mod, part Flapper), and then charges full speed ahead into the Era of the Supermodel.

The timeline is as rudimentary as Spark Notes for 20th Century Fashion 101, only it is evidently missing several pages.

I wasn't aware of ambient music in the first part of the exhibit, but once I reached the era of Cindy, Christy, et al., I was suddenly bombarded with Wham's "Freedom" and the ostentatious designs of Gianni Versace. I quickly edged into the next room where jubilant Wham gave way immediately to "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and the age of Kate Moss and anti-glamour.

The lack of segues was discombobulating and I was anxious to get away and on to something less bizarrely exhibited (like 5000 year-old Cypriot and Persian jewelry).

The Model as Muse, I believe, entirely missed its own point. It reinforced the stereotype of models being lifeless and personality-free clothes hangers, instead of vaunting the ability of rare models who surpass this lowly moniker by performing alchemy and bringing otherwise inanimate clothing to life. These models do exist and just might be worthy of their own show at The Met, but certainly not this one.

Purple Python

This week I noticed that the bag I've been carrying around for months now looks decidedly funereal. The sun is shining, people have stowed their eskimo coats, women are wearing breezy skirts, and I'm still lugging a black, wintery tote.

Time to revamp for summer.

I'm taking night classes, so I still need a bag big enough to haul text books, a laptop, and all the other things I'm compelled to drag around the city.

I figure purple python with gold hardware is about as exotic and exciting as a tote gets, and right now life is calling for something exotic and exciting. No more wintery black.

I might look like Elle Woods carrying this into my economics class, but Elle Woods is my generation's feminist hero, isn't she?

Bag by Coach.

The Model as Muse

As a lover of fashion and denizen of New York City, I am very excited about the latest exhibit at The Met. The Model as Muse opened this week with much hoopla and, of course, the rote drama.

Anna Wintour wouldn't acknowledge Azzedine Alaïa's genius by including him in the show, and Alaïa got his feathers ruffled and called her a dictator, and now everyone's all in a tizzy.

I'll go to see the show, despite being a loyal admirer of Alaïa's, and I will simply say this: Azzedine Alaïa is an icon and institution whether or not Anna Wintour cares to acknowledge him. In addition, the most powerful woman in fashion has his back: Michelle Obama.

In fifty years, when they release coffee table books of Lady O's headline-making fashions, there will be picture after picture of the First Lady looking smashing in Alaïa, and Anna Wintour will be rolling in her grave.

With the First Lady as muse, who needs a model?

Shoes of the Summer

The Luella wedge by Cynthia Vincent.

My first official purchase of summer attire. I am so happy to put my boots at the back of the closet, paint my toes a vibrant color and rock some almost-5" heels.

Anyone else finding great summer shoes that call for vibrant nailpolish?

Wooden wedge, leather. Four straps from toe to vamp, two straps around ankle. Small buckle closures. Zipper opening from toe to ankle. Closed back. Leather insole and sole. 4.75" heel.

Find them here.

The Not Fresa Tote

I'm typically one who shies away from patent products. Something about the high gloss makes me feel a little tarty, although tarty doesn't quite describe it. The best word I can think of doesn't really have an English translation, but in Spanish, it's fresa. Literally, it means strawberry. Colloquially, it means something like "entitled brat on The Hills." That's how patent makes me feel.

However, I just got this large patent tote (unlike the tote pictured, mine has brass hardware). I love it. It holds everything: large wallet, two notebooks, a 640-page book (Chasing The Flame by Samantha Power), a water bottle, and any number of tiny extras like chapstick.
Because it's so utilitarian, there's nothing fresa about it, and I'm learning that patent paired with matte and more industrial-looking textures is actually quite striking.

Bond Cute

I went to see Quantum of Solace at the Ziegfeld Theatre this weekend. I was instructed by my friend T. to look "Bond cute." Bond cute to me means a bikini and excessive eyeliner and backcombing. I wasn't about to venture down that road. I decided to do something vaguely detective-inspired, but ended up looking way more Bonnie Parker than Honey Ryder.

Vintage beret, vintage Diane von Furstenberg scarf, Coach trench, Coach "Sabrina" handbag, Ralph Lauren jeans.

Winter Wear

I'm learning to adjust to New York's winter weather. The frigidity is ravaging my skin. When I walk from the subway to work, the cold feels like needles jabbing into my face, my eyes start tearing and my mascara starts running. There's really no point in styling hair either, because it's at the mercy of the elements. I've learned to just twist my hair into a super-tight bun and cover as much of my face as possible, in an attempt to look halfway professional when I walk into the office.

I've also recently acquired the following weather-conscious and classic New York items:

Coach's Great American Trench:
Two pairs of Coach's Whitley Boot in Whiskey and Black. They're so sturdy and classic, and hopefully will sustain me through many future east coast winters.

Black is the new Black

"Italian Vogue's 'all-black' issue has been selling out on New York newsstands, prompting Condé Nast to reprint the issue, reports Folio. There are 10,000 copies polybagged with the tagline 'Most Wanted Issue Ever' and 'First Reprint' banded across the front. Vogue Italia editor Franca Sozzani says she was inspired by Barack Obama: 'America ... is ready for a black president, so why are we not ready for a black model?'" Source

Sayonara, Skinnies

Are wild bellbottoms the new skinny jean? Prada thinks so, and so does The Cool Hunter.
I would've killed for these jeans as a pre-pubescent girl who thought that all things vibrant and clashing were fashion forward (back in the days when I made my own kente cloth dress). Those days are (sort of) behind me, but I'm unabashedly attracted to these break-the-mold jeans.

But remember, should you suddenly begin to see knock-offs in every chain store, just because skinny jeans are relatively flattering for a variety of body types, does not mean checkered bells are.

Dolce & Gabbana's divergence from the ubiquitous skinnies is more cautious than Prada's, but paired with animal prints, it's an undeniably hot look. Maybe time to break out my as-yet-unworn Bill Blass jeans. I occasionally put them on and walk around the house in them, but I can't very well wear them out till I've had them altered.

To Be A Thief

The Times asked Milla Jovovich if she could steal anyone's wardrobe, "past or present, fiction or reality, whose would it be and why?" She said, "Marianne Faithfull's and Bianca Jagger's. And I'd also steal Isabel Archer's from The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James. I'd steal everything from Edith Wharton's heroines, and from the little chimney sweeps from Dickens's novels. I'd love to go into David Bowie's wardrobe. I'd mix all the clothes from these wardrobes into one of my own."

All around fantastic choices. My question to you, dear readers, is whose wardrobe would you steal, and why?

Source

en la calle

Maybe one of my favorite things about Latin America is the way buildings are painted. On my street, there are red houses with turquoise doors, blue houses with yellow doors, and pink houses with green doors. I hesitate to simplify or wax poetic, but I do think it reflects something inherently joyful about the culture. When you think about cultures that employ stark minimalistic and neutral architectural and aesthetic schemas, do you think of them as joyful?
This church is fascinating. Its roots are in Cortesian Mexico, but somewhere along the way, someone decided to give the facade a rosy facelift.
These street musicians were only teenagers and were completely adorable in their little uniforms.
These breakdancers were more than happy to pose for pictures. They were dancing in el centro, the town gathering space, but I found it especially interesting that they were breakdancing right in front of a grandiose and towering government building. What better place for street dancing?

The "Aggy"

Whoa, whoa... The Daily Mail needs to do some homework. Cool kids got the "Aggy" back in January 2007, or even December 2007.

RIP Cyd Charisse

In March I reminisced about my childhood crush on Cyd Charisse as "The Green Lady." She passed away today.