­

Setting the Mood: Labor Pains

By |September 1st, 2016|Beauty & Trends, Setting the Mood|

labor-day-fashion-editorial-whydid

While Labor Day is not actually the official end of summer (I repeat, LABOR DAY IS NOT THE OFFICIAL END OF SUMMER), it sure can feel like it.  I prefer a glass half full approach to this holiday weekend- meaning, buck up, we’ve still got another three weeks of summer (fall begins on September 22nd- also known as Smitty and my father’s birthday).  However, if you are a bit more pessimistic and it’s about to be check out time at your summer share house, I understand your desire to go out with a bang.

It was a weird summer, let’s be serious.  The weather was the equivalent of most of my decision making- it didn’t know what it wanted to do.  Fortunately, we only got blasted with one intolerable heatwave and for the most part there was plenty of sun.  While the majority of my friends posted pictures from Ibiza to Istanbul, I sat on the sidelines watching enviously as I scoured the internet looking for a new home in the borough of Brooklyn.  That endeavor turned out to be about as successful as transporting a snow cone through the Sahara.

It doesn’t matter if you’re in the half full or half empty camp, Labor Day is now upon us and we must prepare.  Sunglasses, swimsuits, and sunscreen, ahoy.

Sponsored Post: Simply Stylist x Dove Dry Spray

By |December 4th, 2015|Beauty & Trends, Sponsored Post|

dove dry spray simply stylistIt’s true, I do have the luxury of sleeping in later than most nine to fivers, but on those days where things are jam packed and hitting the snooze button isn’t even an option, I find that every minute counts.  From the moment my feet hit the hardwood, I’ve got each and every second accounted for– from mixing up my morning health potions to hitting the gym for a quick HIIT, to making my way uptown for important client meetings.  A queen of to-do lists, I make it my mission not to miss a beat, but there are times when even the most organized individual fails to remember the minutest detail.

And nothing stinks more than forgetting something- namely your antiperspirant.  That’s why I was so excited when Simply Stylist introduced me to working with Dove Dry Spray, a spray that goes on instantly dry, protects against wetness and odor for 48 hours, and as an added bonus, leaves your skin soft and moisturized with all the benefits of skincare for your underarms.  So, even in the tightest time crunch, there’s no need to skimp on the essentials while waiting for your antiperspirant to dry.  Even better, Dove Dry Spray won’t leave behind any visible residue. Another way to take care of yourself and look amazing is through Advanced Dentistry!

So, while rushing around the city to and from meetings, errands, and events– even on those days where nothing seems to be going according to plan, Dove Dry Spray makes it no sweat.

Why Did You Wear That: Blurring Lines in Gempicket

By |November 30th, 2015|Personal Style, Why Did You Wear That?|

gempicket whydid kirsten smith2Upon entering my apartment, one of the first things people notice, besides the fact that it took them twenty minutes to navigate the maze like hallway to get there, is the collection of nightgowns hanging on the handles of my closet doors on the left side of the hallway.  Some of them are vintage, some of them I’ve never worn, others I wear all the time.  You could say that my obsession with nightwear began while watching Golden Girls as a little girl.  That’s right, instead of Big Bird and Mister Rogers it was Murphy Brown, Sam Malone, and Blanche Devereaux.  I still fall asleep to the sounds of Nick at Nite and all of this ties back nicely to the potential narcolepsy I suffer from.  Another hypothesis as to my penchant for boudoir attire is the time I spent buying lingerie for Henri Bendel.  One never knew she was missing a waspie or the imperative need for an embroidered kimono until she spent time in a showroom full of silk, chiffon, and lace.  I only have one dresser in my apartment and its sole purpose is to house my bras, panties, and bathing suits.  You may be wondering why I ever even bother getting dressed.  Spoiler alert, I rarely do.

Working from home most days doesn’t require putting on much more than a whisper of clothing.  Other than slipping into something spandex to catch a yoga or pilates class, I’ve become quite comfortable in the very basics– as have all of my deliverymen.  My freedom in dresscode and days of solidarity have taken some of the stress out of my normal work day, but it has also left me somewhat socially awkward and also in a panic when it comes time to piece together an outfit fit for public consumption.  And this is when the beauty of blurring the lines between “your eyes only” and “all eyes on me “comes into play.  When you can pair a Gempicket silk cotton batiste cami with your favorite skinny jeans or throw a vintage t-shirt on with your delicately demure tap pants, you’ve perfectly bridged the gap between wallflower and woman of interest.  Or you could just call the whole thing off and stay home in your skivvies.

gempicket whydid elodie cami

gempicket elodie cami grace tap pant

gempicket grace tap pant

gempicket loungewear kirsten smith whydid

whydid gempicket kirsten smith

gempicket loungewear whydid

gempicket new york whydidGempicket Elodie Cami, Grace Tap Pants, and Suki Socks

Photos by Michael Stiegler

Why Did You Wear That: American Splendor

By |November 17th, 2015|Personal Style, Why Did You Wear That?|

kirsten smith why did blog denim skirtSaturday afternoons during the fall in Manhattan often involve something some lovingly refer to as and others scoff at called “brunch.”  This past Saturday presented me with an especially relevant reason to partake in daylight libations because my oldest (not in age, but in duration) friend was in town for work.  Upon his arrival, we wandered down the street without an actual location in mind– this is an analogy for my life.  Stopping in front of a restaurant to inspect the menu, deeming it acceptable, and ordering a bottle of rosé as soon as our seats touched the chairs (I refuse to believe it’s out of season), we were off to a running start.  I thought myself clever asking for a turkey burger sans bun only to later find out that many restaurants use bread crumbs as a binder in their patties, canceling out all of my gluten free intentions.  We met up with a few friends at a neighborhood watering hole a few blocks down and much to my chagrin, said establishment was out of rosé, so Sancerre it was.  Typically dead on a Saturday afternoon before the evening rush of anyone but locals, the bartenders thanked us for making them laugh and keeping things “interesting.”  As we parted ways with one group of friends, we met up with another at a cash only joint that can almost lead you to believe you’ve been transported from the West Village to Southwest Detroit, almost- the plaid shirts and Patagonia vests are dead giveaways as to your geolocation.

At this point, I was fading fast and knew that the only last glint of hope for me was to order pizza (since I’d already fallen from the gluten wagon).  A few people are privy to the fact that in most instances of ordering pizza, I’ve fallen asleep before it’s been delivered.  Basically, I pay my doormen’s holiday bonuses in literal dough.  But alas, I was still standing when it was time to tip the delivery boy.  Unfortunately, even a Pandora dance party and pepperoni slice could not save my sad, sloshed soul.  I waved my friends on without me- okay, I fell asleep with my arm in the air- and called it a night, all before 9pm.

I sat straight up in bed around 1:30am and realized that I had slept the entire night away and wondered where my friends had ventured off to and whether I should gather bail money now or later.  I didn’t have to wonder for too long before my best pal was haphazardly trying his luck with the key to my door and Smitty all but lost it at the prospect of an intruder.  I rescued him from himself and he stumbled in to tell me what I’d missed (hint: not much).  After a chat session worthy of a highschool sleepover, and a critical dissection of our relationships, he passed out snoring on my couch and I found myself wide awake on Saturday night at 4am watching American Splendor.

kirsten smith whydid denim skirt

denim skirt whydid kirsten smith

kirsten smith whydid fall 2015

whydid kirsten smith denim skirttop: American Eagle, skirt: American Apparel, sweater: Henri Bendel, shoes: Steve Madden, bag: Chanel, dog: Smitty


Photos by Richard Smith

Why Did You Wear That: Time Will Tell with Louis Moinet

By |October 18th, 2015|Sponsored Post, Why Did You Wear That?|

“Shoot!” I exclaim as I peer at the clock above my stove.  “I’m late… Again.”

I inspect my reflection in the mirror for the fourth time and reassure myself that my hair alone is well worth the wait.  Thirty minutes worth the wait though?  Should I just cancel?  What excuse can I use this time?  Faulty plumbing? look for help in  https://allsewerserviceplumbing.com/24-hour-emergency-plumber/ and get a 24 hour service, Natural disaster?  Personality defect?  It is in my Aquarian nature, after all.

I pick up my phone to make the call (text), and realize that even if I leave right now, I’ll be forty-five minutes late, pending traffic.  Please don’t take Bleecker.  Before pressing send, I recall how his dark brown eyes had made me melt and how the conversation during our first encounter had made me forget about time altogether.  Maybe I won’t cancel.  Besides, I’m already dressed, and this dress deserves to be seen.  I delete my message, grab my bag and give one last glance in the mirror before heading down the hall to the elevator.

I let him know I’m on my way, without being too apologetic.  I don’t want to tip the scales too far in his favor.  As the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of the restaurant, I take a deep breath and decide that no excuse will be my best excuse.  Everyone knows that anything worth having is also worth waiting for.  It’s basic economics.  All good things always take time. And I’m certainly worth the wait.

As I walk into the already crowded restaurant, I spot him.  And as I spot him, he spots me and peers down at his wrist, presumably to check just how late I actually am.  I give a half hearted wave hoping to offset any animosity with a shy smile.  I make my way to him, avoiding a waitress with an overloaded drink tray and dodging an over served patron and I see him start to soften.  It must be my hair.  He greets me with a warm enveloping hug and despite my tardiness, all seems to be forgiven.  Just as I start to relax, he looks down at his wrist again and for the first time, I notice that he’s not wearing just any watch, a Tag or a Rolex, it’s a Louis Moinet.  I don’t know much about stocks or bonds, cars or sports, but I do know you can tell a lot about a man by his watch– and his shoes.

louis moinet memoris

Now, if you’ve never heard of Louis Moinet, you’re not a watch enthusiast or you’ve been tricked into believing there are only a few watches worth wearing.  Someone with discerning taste knows the difference.  This particular model is the Louis Moinet Memoris tenth anniversary timepiece- the first chronograph watch in watchmaking history.  Certainly not for novices.  Seeing this watch on my date’s wrist tells me that he is someone who is more interested in the craft of watchmaking than the culture of watch wearing.  This purchase wasn’t made after listening to one too many Drake songs or catching an ad in between episodes of Scandal.  This is a man who values the art over the adage, the heritage more than the hearsay.  With the chronograph existing two hundred years and the watchmaker celebrating its tenth anniversary, Louis Moinet reinvented things by focusing on the chronograph as a centerpiece rather than simply a design component.  There is a reason this watch has been nominated for the Grand Prix d’Horlogerie of Geneva.  Incorporating the “Energie Plus”, an automatic pawl self winding system, the Memoris can be wound in both directions optimizing every movement.  I know I’ve done the right thing by not canceling.  This is a man who values his time.  It’s written all over his wrist.  I feel a pang of guilt for not having valued it myself. watch. Have you been thinking of purchasing a Rolex, Omega, Tag Heuer or Seiko? Whether it will be your very first luxury watch or you’re adding to your elite collection – nanadc.com offer 100% authentic luxury watches at unbelievably discounted rates.

He asks if I’d care for a drink and I order rosé because it would look nice with the rose gold of his watch.  He smiles as if in cahoots.  I smile back and think that perhaps if I had a watch half as lovely, I’d never be late either.  Will this romance last longer than the dessert course?  Who knows?  Only time will tell.