Archive for the ‘Fashion’ Category
I’ve been downright dark lately but just hear me out. The loss I’m bemoaning this time around is of footwear: specifically, my ZiGi sandals from SoHo. The judgement, as you’ll see, is mine all mine.
My sandals, purchased spontaneously while trekking to NYU last year in an attempt matriculate and move eastward (Saga. I didn’t go.), have finally given out after a year of heavy use. Nothing compares to a really awesome pair of $20 surprise sandals from a place you just ducked into to escape the rain. And now, perusing Zappos, I realize they are gone forever and I find myself stranded in a fashion quandary. It is Indian Summer here and we’re gearing up for two more months of beach weather while the rest of the country (and the shoe industry) breaks out the boots and jeans and falling tree leaves.
Northern California fashion, particularly East Bay fashion, is complicated for so many reasons. First of all, you’re surrounded by people in yoga pants and Patagonia zip-ups, who consider high fashion a trip to the Börn store. There’s this prevalent Etsy craftsy outdoorsy sort of look here. It involves clogs and bags from the Maker Faire, Timbuk2 messenger bags, little sustainable carved bamboo earrings and handmade leather items. This look is easily passed off as “comfortable”, but what people miss is that it’s a look that’s entirely value-based. Things are locally sourced. Organic. Charming and arty, as an extension of a personality that values social responsibility and art programs in schools.
It practically comes with an HRC bumpersticker. I totally get it. But there’s something about that look that’s so inherently responsible. Like that person would never sleep in too late and miss work, blow the day off having great sex with a cute bartender.
That person would freak out about the very idea of sex with a bartender. That person would want to scurry to the library and check out a book with that theme immediately, but would never act out so. Her therapist would advise against it.
Moving along the trajectory, then there’s this white flowy organic cotton, designer jeans, still low-heel footwear but much higher end sort of lady. She drives a Mini, or hybrid SUV. She shops farmer’s markets in her responsible sandals, but does at least possess a workable shoe collection for nights at Jardinière or wine tasting or night in the city extravaganzas after the kids are put to bed. Unfortunately, this person is rather boring, and all that money has done nothing to enhance a quality of personality, but she knows mid range labels, and can usher out a few designer bits from her closet, though they’ll likely be conservative investment pieces of Yamamoto or Jill Sander. (Side note here, have you seen Friends With Money with my girlfriend Catherine Keener? So excellent.)
Categorization aside, part of the problem is that it’s so damn outdoorsy here. People will spontaneously burst into trail biking at a moment’s notice, and if you’re standing there in your platforms without a Sigg bottle, you’ll just feel like an idiot. I did spend one Thanksgiving tottering around Bodega Bay beaches in high heel leather boots because I had tried desperately to walk this line.
The girls who succeed in living a Bay Area life in heels, sadly (and I say this truthfully because I would love to live a life that ALWAYS has a long leg line and foot massages to work out the residual issues from hours in platforms), are the ones who don’t take advantage of what the Bay at large has to offer. It’s just so fucking beautiful here. If you don’t drive up the coast and navigate your way through rocky unmarked paths to get to the beach, you’re selling yourself short. It’s windy and you need layers, and flat soles. No one brings their Theory suit to Squaw for skiing. I’m sorry, but it’s just silly. You have to learn to be malleable, and store your sensible shoes next to your killer purple stilettos. And learn how to backyard BBQ in flip flops while simultaneously hone your choices on Masa’s wine list. Ah, the cross we all bear.
In the waning days of sleeplessness, as the baby was having a nice little lull before I went all HARDCORE and told him we were no longer going to entertain one another at 3am, and all consideration of him would be available only during proper daylight hours and that there would be no period of complaining about it, I started realizing I needed tshirts.
After the private school fundraiser this year, I had learned that drinking three mojitos was not a good precursor to silent auction bidding and I barely escaped purchasing home delivery of four weeks of pastured eggs for $180.
The tshirt buying went somewhat the same way as they make those paypal transactions incredibly painless and before you know it, your bank account has been drained and your mailman is shoving cute white envelopes through your door.
The tees, all in all, are awesome. The tragedy struck when I realized nearly all the ones I had chosen were 80’s themed.
Nicely folded in my drawer now are Lloyd Dobler holding his boombox over his head, Miss Scarlet in the Ballroom with the Leadpipe, and lots and lots of printed references to Analog being of superior quality, surrounded by images of cassette tapes.
Around this time, the tax refund check came and I splurged on something ridiculous I had been eyeing. Anyone recognize these new additions to my garden?
I freaked and got a bunch of brand new music and proceeded to watch The Social Network three times to shock my nostalgia into submission. But secretly, I’m totally geeked.
I just HAD to have a glass of wine. The house is (finally) quiet: all family members sleeping, all dogs admonished from couches, dishwasher empty, laundry load put in. I can attempt to distill the ideas that are rocketing around in my head into coherent thoughts.
First, I am SO excited about dinnerparty- my new company. I’ll be throwing dinner parties in super secret non-traditional dining spaces. This summer I’ll host a series of high-end events to get things flowing. My lovely wife will be photographing the magic for all to ogle. I can’t give much away but to say that the first event is based on a classic children’s story… I can’t wait!
Secondly, I’ve started rehearsing for a spring concert. Solo, perhaps? Not sure yet. Two songs are in the pipeline after a two hour session last week and there are more on the verge. They basically write themselves. I just catch them as they’re falling into place and put them in the right order. In my younger years I didn’t care much about craft, and several friendships with good songwriters were ended over method (I can’t get down with grinding it out. What’s the point?). I like to think I’m a bit more focused now, with scheduled rehearsals and all.
Anyway, there’s the plan. Coming to a venue near you, if you live within 12 square blocks from my house on the Oakland-Berkeley border. Ha.
Thirdly, spring is on the move. The rest of the country is feeling ill from cold and sloggy freezing awful blizzard apocalypse while we in the Bay Area are casually watching birds flit about in the sun and expecting the bulbs to peek out of the ground any day. Tortuous, but true. These warm, delightful mornings make me think of two things:
HEY it’s tax time, you better get it together
and, simultaneously,
HEY it’s time to update my wardrobe- when can I go shopping?
Clearly tax time does not get along well with wardrobe reshaping. They hang in midair together, having a staring contest and trying to look mean all through February until one gives in. Typically fashion trumps.
What is a look book, you ask? You probably don’t ask that but just in case… it’s a little booklet (or large binder, in my case) full of inspiration and fun things you run across as the weather changes that will inform your buying decisions and fashion objectives for the next season. For instance, I spent nearly two years wrapped up in the idea of “sexy librarian” and have the look book to prove it. You know, cabernet lips, liquid liner, tweedy fitted skirts with the slightest flirty trumpet flare at the bottom, round-toed pumps and fitted sweaters, dark tights and the ubiquitous bun or chic ponytail. Sexy librarian.
I have before me several months worth of magazines to tear through before I finish this glass of wine and high-tail it upstairs.
Night all, and happy thaw.
Paint the kids’ room pale winter but slightly playful blue and make it look like this.
Finally listen to the newest Grace Potter which I was so excited about I accidentally ordered three separate times.
And try to get someone to take me to Remedy for a scone.
Simple, but worth sacrifice, all.
There is nothing more attractive than smart, multilingual, creatively passionate and accomplished women. I think we can all agree on that. I don’t know if I have a crush on Kristin Scott Thomas, or if I just want to be her.
