Its like looking in a mirror.

Dior and Raf Simons.

If only there was a way to tell these two designers apart.

3 days ago it was announced that Raf Simons  is going to take over as artistic director at Christian Dior. Initially a shock, we all later agreed smugly that it was the obvious choice. Closing our eyes and saying things like “Just look at the way they both love peplums.”

Marc is having a hard time being Marc. Lets give him a break and pretend that salary was the reason why that deal didn’t go through.

You just can’t help but be pleased for Raf. Already a distinguished designer with a loyal following (his loyalists make slicked back hair look fresh and cool. the rest of us just look greasy), Raf doesn’t need our applause.

But he’s looks so damn humble you just want to scream “Nobody puts Baby in the corner!…I mean,  Sandy finally gets to show Danny Zuko that she too can rock a slutty look …ok,not slutty, but fancy in a spandex-for-daytime-carnival sort of way……did this analogy ever have any hope?”

Raf, go show us how sexy simple can be.

Looks like a gown. Feels like a tee.

I would NEVER take off this dress. Nope.

Be prepared to scream when you see where its from.

Refinery29-ery

Spring time self-promotion!

Id like to highlight my dear friend Laura Aviva’s breathtaking collection of home treasures at L’Aviva Home. With her laser-sharp eye, she treks up mountains and dives into shark infested waters in search of inspiration. She finds the perfect throw pillow to class up your futon (perhaps now you’ll make the right decision about said futon). Now, not only can you decorate your dwellings with her gems, you can also dress up your neck! Check out Refinery29. Looks like she hired some big-shot model to show us the intricate designs of the hand-dyed ikat scarves from Uzbekistan. But don’t be intimidated by these photos of her…Im sure she’s just a regular girl. With a blog. And a weakness for anything with stripes. Anything.

In the end....we all design, no?

My talented friend Heather Sperber always said “Fact: Supermodels age differently than the rest of us.” Whether its letting themselves go gray like Carmen Dell’Orefice or having 200 babies like Heidi Klum, they always look just a little better than the rest of us doing the same.

And sure, anyone with a pulse and a purse nowadays have pronounced themselves fashion designers. But wait, that one name on the label of the gorgeous knit dress looks familiar. Claudia. As in Guess Jeans Claudia Schiffer?!?  The Vogue.com Spring List schooled me in Claudia Schiffer’s line. And its good. Damn good. Look at this adorable beach look.

She’s collaborating with cashmere kings in Germany because, well, she can. The line comes in at $400 - $1600. But for the rest of us holding our breathe as we click on the “Balance Inquiry” tab, check out the similar version by Asos on the right.  Just a cool $60…..For an unseemingly cool day like today.

Toúche, Mother Nature. Toúche.

Cloak & Dagger

Raindrops Keep Falling on…the flawless pleats of my gorgeous new trench!

Sunny weather be damned. Give me the rain and give me an excuse to show off these unapologetically feminine trench coats. Burberry, Doo.Ri and Junya…oh my!

When it seems like nothing in your closet is cooperating (Closet: 1 You: 0), these trench coats can double as dresses. That 2 looks in 1. And who doesn’t love a multi-tasker?

What would a Bond girl do? She would wear the trench, slip on a gorgeous necklace or cocktail ring from @FlutterNYC and pair it with some racy shoes.   

Now, where can I keep my gun so it doesn’t add “bulk” to my new look?

Jordan Catalano loves me in red

Are we allowed to say anything bad about Claire Danes?

Im aware if anything negative comes out of my mouth about the Claire Danes I would be ostracized at Yale alumni events, have my New Yorker subscription cancelled and my Marni shopping privileges would be revoked.  

Luckily (ok, sadly…sigh) none of those exist. So here it goes: what’s your damage, Angela Chase? True, I embrace a full skirt for black-tie. Leave the slinky, sleeveless my-trainer-absolutely-killed-me-this-morning-want-to-split-a-Blueprint-smoothie? for a premiere or the wedding of a frenemy. But the swiss dot paired with a sweetheart neckline, hoop skirt and the color of watermelon hubba-bubba was too much dress for me.

Otherwise, you are flawless. 

Barneys? or Bait 'n Tackle shop

HELMUT LANG? …JIL SANDER?

Nothing can prepare you for this one: EMS.

That’s right. Eastern Mountain Sports.

The photo on the website doesn’t do it much justice. Barely saves it from looking like something a football coach would wear in the winter. So I was hoping my “not Poncherello but the other guy on CHiPs" pose would convey the glory of this coat. I may not have succeeded.

The coat should not be punished because of a crappy camera phone and a weird expression on my face. Please buy this inexplicably cool rainy day coat.

Its actually a very modest, one-piece

Forgive me, Farrah. 

It was an injustice that the link to your name went elsewhere and did not connect to your iconic photograph. My amateur error reveals the newness of this blog. And my age.

You see, when I was in high school there wasn’t Facebook. There was Friendster. Ok, fine. The internet didn’t exist. We had goddamn Friendship bracelets. We wore them in the shower until they begun to smell moldy. Farrah, you deserve better. And I promise you, I will learn. Watch this: #hashtag (Yeah, move over Zuck).

This got me thinking about high school and how we communicated. We passed notes. How we signed them at the end - a smiley face? a daisy? an anarchy sign? Those were our Profiles.

Notes have been replaced by texts ‘n tweets. But can anything really replace a Thank You card?  I still keep the ones I received when I was interviewing tech. designers at Juicy Couture. My appreciation for TY cards could have gone in a completely opposite direction. Especially when the handwritten note veiled the truth: the enforcer behind it.

* readers: you are about to unwillingly slip into what could be a therapy session. close this tab or minimize it at the very least.

My mother made me write a Thank You card to my prom date. Yep. An actual Thank You card. To a prom date. Im talking about you, Douglas. When you’re scaling impossible heights in Alaska, teaching troubled youth how to survive in the desert on twigs and urine or diving out of helicopters to ski (ski lifts can be sooo pedestrian), don’t you look back fondly at said TY card and think “what a lovely gesture”? Because thats what Dr. Feinberg and I have decided.

A little bird told me...to steal your designs

Last week I was asked to do a photo shoot for Travel & Leisure magazine. An hour before the shoot I was getting my hair blown out to create a head full of more waves than you know who in her red bathing suit. I actually said the words “make me look like Farrah Fawcett” and watched my hairstylist master control over every muscle in his face to keep from laughing. A text appears on my phone requesting that I wear a pair of skinny jeans to the shoot.

?

This request is coming form the Art Director so I oblige and out aside my views on said jeans. Time is running out and the only retailers between me and the shoot location are Endless Flax (please: someone explain this to me.) and Old Navy. The latter prevails. I reluctantly find a pair of skinny jeans and run towards the cashier. Wait…whats this? A beautiful bird motif straight from Carolina Herreras runway? I grab the navy AND the white. At the shoot, I’m wondering if I was played like a fiddle. Was I caught under the spell that - according to Portlandia - bird motifs concoct on the brain? At that moment two editors from the magazine came over and picked up the shirts. They swooned, asked me for the receipt and to kiss both shirts goodbye. Damn you, birds.   

Rag(s) and Bone

Ask any nail technician on Fulton Avenue. Im a sucker for taupe. If I haven’t chosen the racy IM NOT JUST A WAITRESS or the ubiquitous FISHNET STOCKING, then its taupe. Something about it appeals to my often squelched (and rightly so) earthy side. This also holds true for my lip color. L’oreal REALLY RED has a special place in my heart which sometimes makes room for MACs CHAI.

My beautiful sister Susan Naci lovingly refers to it as my “corpse” shade. 

The skirt and boot combo. Pretty Young Thing meets Tough Girl. Its not a relationship we haven’t seen before. My first viewing may have been by Tina Yothers. Fed up with the way Alex was treating her and the members of her band The Permanent Waves, Jennifer and the girls donned their denim jackets and walked off stage: the juxtaposition of chiffon and denim marked both the ultimate rebellion and the day I lost my fashion virginity. 

The boots are rag & bone. They are fabulous and have my approval. A client of mine who is a chef wore and lasted in them all day. Speaks volumes. The skirt is JCrew and ridiculously marked down. Treat it like a pair of jeans and wear it to Fairway or to get bullied at Duane Reade. Enjoy.

* after an unsuccessful search on google i couldnt find the name of Tina’s band. i knew that would not be acceptable. so strong was my dedication to this blog and the truth on which its based, i actually installed silverlight (?) to watch an old archived episode.

http://youtu.be/eoPryW29hFw

The men that got away.

Gay is good.

Now Im not getting on a soapbox and trying to stir up a big ol’ pot of controversy. 

The statement above simply reflects an experience I had with a recent client. Conservative male, mid-40s who works in media. I needed to take the Grey out of The Grey Lady wardrobe. (playing with puns is a dangerous game and probably should not be attempted without the support of at least 2 cups of coffee. Forgive me). 

After an exhaustive and intensive week, I created a wardrobe fit for a Manhattan Media Mogul. We didn’t just stop after a pair of John Varvatos for Converse. No sir. We paired it with a lush green cashmere cardigan from Barneys, butched that up with a dark rinse Earnest Sewn jean and pulled it together with a navy felted wool jacket from rag & bone.

Monday morning he stopped traffic. As he strutted through the halls, earbuds were removed allowing the gawkers to gawk. Hoodies were drawn back allowing necks to crane. As if this weren’t validation enough, he received his first sexual harassment comment from a colleague. My little mogul was all growns up (as a girl, i simply cannot pull off a Swingers reference. i know where i stand. forgive me). He had earned the respect of his colleagues and loved his new look.

Until his wife declared “You look gay” and returned nearly all of the purchases. He took it in stride for this only emphasizes how good he really looked. She noticed. And was pissed.  

Belted.

Too skinny. Too thick. Too old. Too short. 

Sounds like the text you sent your friends at the end of a date? 

I’m referring to is your collection of belts. Like a churro yearning for hot chocolate to plunge into (oh, Senorita Haque from 7th grade Spanish. If you only knew how the images in our textbook  ”Churros y Chocolate" inspired many designs in my career), sometimes a dress begs for a belt. 

Lifting my format right out of the pages of Marie Claire and their Splurge vs. Steal guide, Im about to divulge one of the biggest secrets behind SASS NEW YORK.

Forever21.

Now, climb back onto your chair and continue reading….

You see, often times we are left with a sloppy hug from a belt because we didn’t have the right one. A waist is a waist. Hips are hips. Two distinct belts are required. Wear a low-slung belt with a pencil skirt and you look like a failed hula-hoop contestant.

Green leather belt on left: Louis Vuitton - $360.00

Green leather belt on right: Forever21 - $1.50

$1.50

$1.50

…and just because it bears repeating: $1.50 

You have no excuses.

WB. The "Why bother?" network?

Quick, what was the first thing you saw? The ridiculous tan line? ME TOO! 

I mean…there is always a swipe of bronzer going down there when Im wearing a v-neck sweater. 

A sweater. Erin Wasson, you are beautiful. Tons of pictures to prove it. What didnt need to be proven was your gender. 

The second thing you must have noticed once you reeled back from the tan line was her purse. Kind of hilarious. What’s she carrying in there, a spare pair of pantyhose?  

Items that may be contained in Erin’s purse:

* an wardrobe change, something less bulky

* lipstick; it really pulls a look together

* taste

The good news: she won’t be featured in those “Who Wore It Best” photos and have to feel crummy when the majority of the vote goes to this guy.

50 Shades of Ecru

The Golden Globes.

A sneak peak of The Oscars. Sorta like eating the cookie dough before its fully baked; you know theres stuff in there that can kill you but you eat it anyway because its all worth it in the end when you find that chocolate chunk nugget of a dress. I mean a bite.

However, I need someone to explain to me why the “color” of the night was phlegm. In various tones and textures. Taffeta phlegm. Bejewled phlegm. Pleated phlegm and for that va-va-voom factor: lacy phlegm.

Please see photo of the lovely Katherine McPhee (whom Im not sure yet if she’s an actor, a singer or the new favorite of career labels “a host”). Beautiful tousled hair with a perfect ratio of hi-and-low lights slithering around her shoulders. Flawless skin with not a single pore for miles. Why does such a lovely girl choose to look like melba toast? 

 Suzy Menkes from NYTimes referred to the Gucci Men’s show as “beautifully made and desirable — but dull.” Fits like a boring glove. 

Oh, tawdry Helen Mirren. You cheeky little bird! Ever since you stirred up controversy appearing in that tawdry bikini you’ve held the bar high for what people should look like in their 60s. Or 50s. Ok fine, 30s! But after images of décolleté after glorious décolleté this navy number you chose for the Golden Globes begs the demand: show us your tits.

Say it with something you found at Duane Reade

Redundancy collection, brought to you by Hallmark.

To clarify the distinction between apology cards that are intended for reaching out and apology cards for passive-aggressively admitting a wrongdoing on your part but, when you really think about it, it wasn’t your fault and maybe if you didn’t act like such a jackass in front of Dave and have this perpetual need to be right ALL THE TIME…forget it, just rip up this damn card you as*hole!

Redundancy. When you care enough to send the easiest to interpret.

Keeping It Real-ish

When you think of Brooklyn, a flurry of images come to mind. No Sleep ‘Til. The Cosbys. Stoops. Spike. Cheesecake. Yet as of late the casual observer will notice that diners once proudly serving the awful cups of coffee you’ve developed a reluctant addiction towards have morphed into gourmet coffee institutions.  A request for a “cup of coffee” will be meet with a blank stare. One must first specify the preferred continent from which the brew arrived. Which type of grinder was used in the process and of course the filter…be sure to clarify whether you’d like a paper (gasp!) or the more obvious choice; hand-woven. Welcome to Brooklyndia. It’s exhausting.

Which is why I felt a wave of undeserving pride when I walked into my local Duane Reade on Flatbush Avenue last week. I was in-between appointments and needed a quick touch-up to my delicate silver strands. Only after weaving in and out of the aisles searching for my Lòreal or my Fekkai did I realize, Before you take this to sound patronizing or reminiscent of the scene in Baby Boom when the couple from Manhattan walk into the country store in Vermont and gush over how adorable everything is and how “fun” it would be to buy a flannel shirt, let me be clear: Im not so down with the Duane Reade-is-the-new-Sephora campaign. Enough with all the Method products. Sometimes a girl just needs bleach and hard core chemicals.  My point was, I couldnt make a choice when I realized I was neither a black man nor a woman interested in getting her hair frosted in the 80s.

What's that name that guys have for "front butt"?

Front or Back?….Can’t tell? Welcome to the Mom Jean

My latest crop of clients at SASS New York have been new Moms. Among which the common fear is they will no longer look sexy. This is understandable since new mothers often accessorize with a splash of avocado on their face or a streak of yogurt in their hair. We barely have time to brush our teeth let alone create a smoky eye worthy of Jerseylicious.

Often we assume upon leaving the delivery room, we will be handed a pair of Mom Jeans by a nurse with a kind face. She will explain to us in the same gentle manner she used to teach us how to swaddle the child, “They are pale-coloured to ensure ample view of the your thigh size. And the back pockets? Do not look for them on your buttocks but a good 2 or 3 inches higher. The promises to provide Long Butt. You will find the waistband rests comfortable below your 4th rib . This is so the bulk of the denim can gather at your belly. This eliminates having to suffer through the awkwardness of not having a belly anymore.” She will smile sweetly and continue, “And just in case your husband may still have any lingering desire for you, ” (during which she will turn to your husband inquisitively and he will shake his head. definitively) “we’ve added elastic panels on both sides of the waist and guaranteed the leg length shall remain 1” too short. God bless your new baby.”

Mothers: Leave the jeans. Grab the baby. And steal as many of those GIANT maxi pads you can shove into your overnight bag.

Simple ways to avoid the MJ syndrome even when sleep deprived.

1) pocket placement: start 1/4 below your tush. end at the bottom. look for stitching

2) color: dark rinse

3) length: with flats, should be 1/4” off the floor

Follow these rules and you will need to hire more babysitters because Momma is sizzling!

Uh, where are the matching curtains?

The East Coast West Coast debate continues.

Very clever table by Faktura Design I found on Svpply.com

The sunny curtains would be so nice to look up to from the sofa in the 2nd guest bedroom .

Oh, I see you’ve stumbled upon a post where I decorate my imaginary beach house. The main house is still being renovated so we stay in the guest cottage. Its get a little drafty, being on the beach, so we need to pile on the cashmere. 

I really need to focus on the master bathroom right now which is a disaster and hire some imaginary help, so occupy yourselves with this:

Noir jewelry which I mentioned in a previous post, is having their annual sample sale.

Before I die...

Next time you leave Brooklyn Dental…….

…take a moment and enjoy the latest Before I Die art installation by Candy Chang.

I noticed it today when I was walking back from the power couple that is FedEx+Kinko’s. Yes, I left my apartment to print something out. I realize this sounds so old fashioned you can almost hear the words coming out of Nellie Oleson's mouth. In an effort to simplify my lifestyle, Ive made my husband get rid of the majority of his clothing / gadgets / sentimental memorabilia. Next were the lazy shredder, rice-cooker and printer. I do regret the printer because todays sojourn proved that only questionable characters escorted by their parole officers patronage the FedEx+Kinko’s hybrid. Hash words. Forgive me. I was  driven by the annoyance of having had to walk 20mins to print.

But this made it worth the walk. Words that completed the “Before I die I want to…” statement such as …meet my grandchildren, or forgive my mother had me weep openly on Fulton Avenue. Alas, …have a SEX party gently brought me back and centered me. Ah, Brooklyn.

Peacoat.

Now this is my kind of peacoat.

Every since we were children, my sister Susan and I were the recepients of classic peacoats from my father. Raised on the high seas of Istanbul, my father was a proud Sea Captains son. So every year we allowed him his saltwater nostalgia and accepted his gift in all its navy, scratchy wool glory.  Until high school when all we wanted to wear was Forenza.

But with this gorgeous drop of loveliness by 3.1 Phillip Lim, Im more than willing to take back the peacoat. Daddy?…Hello?…You there, Dad? Why are you screening your calls? …..Hello?!?