Lyell

I have covetous feelings for this blouse. For the whole line actually. Great styling on the photo shoot too. www.lyellnyc.com

I wore this shirt four days in a row to prove my undying love

Let me tell you a story about my favorite shirt ever. It was a navy and white gingham blouse, very shrunken and wrinkly (very Steven Alan before Steven Alan), with sleeves that were too short and buttons that were perfectly placed (instead of in the two buttons undone- still looks prudish or three buttons undone- total whore problem I have with most blouses. I’m not sure if there are many companies that have figured this out, but there is a perfect place to put the button that’s on the lower side of between the bosoms. It ensures that everyone can admire your decolletage while still being office friendly, and no unsightly gaping between buttons. But I digress.) the collar was also nice and small and pointy. It was $10. Probably because it was made by children.

I wore this shirt like nobody’s business. I washed it, I dried it, I never had to iron it. But over time, I loved it too much and it started to rip a little here and there, and I would stitch it up, and patch it, all the while keeping an eye out for a replacement shirt and feeling guilty, like I was looking for a new dog before the old one was dead. But there were no gingham shirts as good as the old one. And then one day the sleeve fell off. So I tore the other sleeve off and wore it under sweaters. Then the bottom started tearing off, so I cut it too. This went on for quite some time until all that I had was a gingham dickie. Basically just a collar and a couple of buttons, that I could only wear under crew necks.

Years went by, and no replacement. Until now. I am happy to report that 10 years later, I have found the perfect gingham shirt replacement. It’s from Steven Alan funny enough, and it cost about 15 times the Gap original. It is almost perfect (minus the button placement thing). I have no picture of it, it’s not on their website, and my digital camera is broken so I can’t show you mine, but you can go to the steven alan website www.stevenalan.com and look at the reverse seam shirt and then picture it in this fabric:

wind chill warning

I think for this winter I would like a traditional Inuit parka and some Russian Valenki boots. Sometimes the old ways are just better.

boobs

Okay, so I was going to write about ill fitting brassieres, and tips on how to tell if they fit, but I found something more interesting on the La Perla site.

(I was thinking about ill fitting bras, because I’m taking a night class and because I sit at the very back of the room- so that I will not ever be called upon- I look at girl’s backs all night, and for the love of god, they all have chub squeezing out from around the band of the bra. This isn’t a fat epidemic, this is an ill fitting bra epidemic. No matter what your size, your bra should not be squeezing your flesh from under it’s deadly elastic grip. Go get a bra fitting, and spend some cash on a proper bra that does it’s job. I cannot say this enough. If you wear one every day, you need to spend some coin on it. And also, don’t get a bra fitting at some La Senza, Victoria’s Secret place, they know nothing. Go to some mom type place and get some older eastern European lady fit you. Prepare to have your breasts man handled and don’t go in expecting privacy, they will walk in on you without warning and make you shake your tata’s at them. You will be alarmed to find out that you have been wearing the wrong size bra your whole adult life.)

Anyway, I was looking at the La Perla site, and it’s absurd. There’s the most annoying wind chime sound and cheese-ball, legs spread pictures and a magazine (magazine!) that has pictures of lacy toast and melted chocolate and girls in cages and there’s a game you can play like memory but with pictures of girls in their underwear. But more absurd than the wind chimes and melted chocolate, is their press statement:

“Burlesque Sensual Club presents the ironic, irreverent, sensual bird-woman of La perla Black Label. She’s swinging, beckoning, on a perch of features, caged as at a theatre or a club in Brooklyn: a magic and transgressively cool show that mixes cabaret and rhinestone masks, strip tease and black lace, ballet and velvet bows.”

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Is it just me?

So, it being winter time again, it’s time to start piling on the make-up. Gone are the summer days of mascara and lip-gloss. Now it’s all sallow puffy complexion, dark circles and lips drained of pigment. But it’s not all bad, I will start wearing red lipstick, a sure fire pick me up for these dark rainy days. I just picked up a tube of dubonnet from the mac store (where a crazy clown-whore dusted my entire face with bronzer, and later I saw myself in a shop window, and perched upon my pale neck was my big brown sparkly face) and I can’t figure out how to put it on properly. There’s always some stray lipstick making it’s way up my upper lip or crawling off from the corner of my mouth, and the secret to red lipstick is getting it perfect. So I did some research, and I cannot find anything that tells you how to do it without all the needless hoo-ha of lip liners and brushes and powders. If I had known it was going to be such an ordeal, I would’ve stuck with the bronzer. While looking for practical advice (by practical, I mean advice that doesn’t involve buying cart loads of other products), I did find a how-to site for girls that included: how to put on red lipstick, how to clean a cat and how to repel people. So I know I’m in good company with my lack of cosmetic applying skills. I would like my red lipstick to look like this:

where have all the department store restaurants gone?

I love department store restaurants. There are not a lot of Canadian department stores that do this anymore (or at least do it very well). The Bay and Holt Renfrew have cafes, though not very nice ones (the Edmonton Holts being the exception, mostly because I think they have forgotten about it, and therefore have not mucked it up with some bad redecorating). Nothing says shopping with my Mom more than having a glass of white wine and a cobb salad in a department store.

Here’s how it’s done right. Bergdorf’s:

and Liberty’s (they only like very small pictures in England) :

Fun Loving Nurses

I just watched MASH (the movie, not the TV show. RIP Robert Altman) and I have to say, everyone looks great. I think this could be a new trouble free way of dressing. All you need are some t-shirts and army pants (preferably tight) in varying shades of green and mud, some boots, and the occasional item to remind you of home (hawaiian shirt, dressing gown, red lipstick). And there you have it. Requires minimal care, never needs cleaning, looks super hot, guarantees canoodling with randy Elliot Gould types.

why are handbags $1000?

I can justify a lot of things, and for about five seconds I tried to justify a $1100 Dries Van Noten bag to myself. Except that I couldn’t. Why would a not leather bag cost this much? Why would a leather bag cost this much? $1100 is more than my rent. I think we should all reject luxury goods. I don’t know when we all decided that we deserved such bizarre extravagant treats. I’ll tell you what a treat is, not having credit card debt. While I was browsing the Barneys website looking for the Dries bag, I found this completely unremarkable $2200 Lanvin bag:

I know, I know, everyone knows that leggings are a bad idea

Recently, in the Globe and Mail there was a terrible (as usual) fashion spread of women dressed as pirates, and they were wearing leggings as pants. For real. And then, in Elle Canada there was this tidbit about how to wear leggings: Skinny leggings layered with a romantic blouse: Victorian style with high lace collar. Layer this blouse with a vest and throw over the whole outfit an over-sized tweed or velvet jacket. Add a jockey cap and the perfect equestrian riding boot.
So, a couple of years ago, I was in Europe, and I saw the loveliest woman wearing leggings under a dress, and for about five minutes I thought she was so clever. When I got home, I cut the feet off my black tights and put them under a nice boho- y dress, as was the style back then. It looked terrible. I promptly threw them out. I was, I think, delusional in Europe. I also bought a bolero style cardigan , which comes back to haunt me every once in a while in my closet. There is something about being in Europe that makes you feel impossibly chic, like you could get away with anything. But it is a lie. Leggings are a lie. And you can never (ever) wear leggings as pants.