So, I guess the nineties are back. And I guess you know I’m going to be wearing a crop top until the bitter end. And by bitter end, I mean a February snowstorm. I plan on riding that trend like the Lone Ranger rode Silver. I work very hard for those toned abs, just ask Jenn. This outfit combines many of my very favorite items. A flannel shirt that was my mother’s and you may recognize, a crop top, a bralette, acid washed jeans (that contain -2% spandex), and the little black bootie. It’s as if I threw all my favorite things into a crock pot, let them simmer, and came out with the world’s most delicious outfit– kind of like mulled wine.
shirt: vintage (similar here), top: Brandy Melville, bralette: Cosabella, jeans: 7 for All Mankind (similar here), booties: Brian Atwood, bag: Alexander Wang, dog: Smitty
It is my belief that most women either love their torsos or love their legs and the alternate tends to be their trouble zone and bane of their existence- much like fitted sheets are to me. Then I guess there are those handful of you bitches who can’t even comprehend what a “problem area” is. I am not one of those, so read on and continue not hating me. From the time I put on my first pair of tights for ballet class, I cursed my thighs. I always longed for gazelle like legs, but instead was blessed with a set of sturdier stems. A guy I was once dating nearly got clocked for calling them “healthy.” Wrong answer, bro.
When the crop top came back in to heavy rotation this year, I really couldn’t have been more thrilled, unless someone told me there was a new way to make millions while simply drinking rosé and people watching. You see, the chances of the crop top returning to relevance again and my being of age appropriateness overlapping are quite slim. It’s kind of like a blue moon and I’m sure there’s some statistician out there who could calculate the odds, but I cried to my statistics professor to avoid failing, so I’m not your girl. Point is: you give me an opportunity to wear a crop top, and I’m taking it. Like here and here and, well, now here.
jacket: Diane von Furstenberg (similar here), top: American Apparel, pants: 7 for All Mankind, shoes: B Brian Atwood, sunglasses: Chloe, bracelets: Alex and Ani, bag: vintage (similar here)
So, if you’re sick of seeing me in crop tops, blame Jenn Seracuse… and my parents.
Photo credit: Michael Stiegler
For some of you, the party is over. For others (ahem, yours truly) the party is just beginning… and you’re obviously invited. But in case you can’t make it, I understand that January can be a bit bleak, what with the blizzards and below freezing temperatures. It might be quite tempting to barricade yourself inside until the nightmare that is Valentine’s Day passes. In the off chance that you’re looking to be a functioning part of society and perhaps secure a date for V-day, it might be necessary to self medicate in the form of shiny accessories, a heavenly scent, and the perfect shade of red lipstick. Hey, just because I have plans to drown in a pint of Haagen Dazs with How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days’ credits rolling doesn’t mean you have to.
1. Brian Atwood Hamper Leather and Velvet Platform Pumps, $1,795, 2. Alexander McQueen Embroidered Unicorn Skull Bag, $2,455, 3. Blue Life Twisted Sleeveless Jumpsuit, $115, 4. Byredo Gypsy Water, $220, 5. CC Skye The F-U Ring, $52, 6. B Brian Atwood Cassiane High Sandal, $425, 7. House of Exposure Helmut Red Lipstick, $25, 8. Paige Paloma Leather Leggings, $299, 9. Boulee Suri Blouse, $187, 10. Fleur du Mal Leather Silk Lined Triangle Bra, $350
Cookies and Cream or Mint Chocolate Chip?
Another year, another round of award shows doling out little metal trophies to folks who may or may not deserve them. But the fun is not in who wins what as much as it is in who wears what. So, let the self tanner application, lapses in style judgement, and wardrobe malfunctions begin and let’s kick things off with last night’s American Music Awards.
While it’s been a while since I’ve tuned in, some things remain exactly as they did a year ago… and beyond. These include but are not limited to:
- They’re still letting Chris Brown perform. Why they even let him out of his cage, I’ll never know, but this white girl won’t be dancing like it’s her birthday when his songs come on. Ever.
- Jenny McCarthy is still hot.
- You still can’t touch MC Hammer.
- Christina Aguilera still wears leotards when she probably shouldn’t (but she can still sing like nobody’s business, so we’ll give her a pass).
- Pitbull is still making songs that don’t make any logical sense in English or Spanish.
- Crowding the stage with babes in bedazzled bustiers will still cover up any bad performance.
- Taylor Swift is still singing about some boy who did her wrong in something that resembles a bad prom dress.
- Nicki Minaj is still in need of a time out.
- Pink could still kick your ass.
- No Doubt is still as rad as ever.
And while it’s nice to have a bit of stability in your life, I’m a little concerned about America’s choices in music. Perhaps that’s a better indicator of the state of our nation? One thing that does seem to be changing is Justin Bieber’s voice (anyone else catch that?) which was quite clear after hearing him dedicate his win to the “haters” (he realizes he’s an eighteen year old 98lb white kid, right?). So, I decided I was going to come up with my own award categories that seem much, much more important:
Color of the Evening:
Most in Need of a New Hairstyle:
So, let’s step it up, folks. We’ll consider this a “warm up.” A “rehearsal” if you will. Last time I checked, which was just now, my socks are still on, so no one particularly blew me away. Bring on the crazy… I’ve gotta have something to write about.
sweater: Topin Hamptons Pullover, $64, necklace: Marina Fehr 18K Rose Gold Plated Hamptons Necklace, $295, sandals: Brian Atwood April Suede Espadrille, $355, shorts: J. Crew Printed Cotton Twill Shorts, $60, sunglasses: Carven Anastasie Flip Up Sunglasses, $360
Every summer New Yorkers flee the hustle and bustle of the big city to sit in hours of traffic only to arrive in the Hamptons where they can rub elbows with the same folks they did back in the Big Apple. And while it may seem silly to spend over four hours (if you’re lucky) of travel time to and from Manhattan’s version of weekend summer camp, there certainly is something to be said for fresh air, swimming pools, and pretty people. I do believe the Hamptons are why summer Fridays were even invented.
So, whether your scene is sweating and socializing under the big white tent at polo, sipping Andre Balazs rose and table dancing at Sunset Beach, or just kicking off your sandals and relaxing at The Surf Lodge, the look is (or should be) casual elegance. This is what makes it easy to spot the locals versus the visitors.
Now hop on the jitney or your seaplane, and see you out there.