Another Ms. X Blurb

This was my outfit. A Ruthie dress and matching belt, Fogal tights, (non-visible from this photo- Jeffery Campbell boots) and, of course, the Ralph Lauren suede jacket from the beloved Ms. X. I don't know why, but I refuse to take the tags off. It's like I'm afraid she's suddenly going to become a medical miracle and wake from the dead- demanding her jacket back. I wouldn't want to upset her by informing her that one of her pieces of clothing had actually been worn! (Gasp!) So the tag stays on.

I think I'm becoming a bit fixated on Ms. X. I'm beginning to become somewhat of a detective about her life, who she was, and why she bought so many clothes she never wore. I'm getting clues. Like, the other day- while going through her jackets for what felt like the umpteenth time, I found a hair. She had black hair. Not dark brown. Black. I've never met someone with pure black hair before. The only people I can think of like that is Harry Potter and Snape. Could this mean she was a witch????

It would make sense, when you think about it. She was interested in muggle clothing and bought copious amounts of them, to study. This explains why she never wore them. There's a conspiracy going on here, and I'm determined to figure it out.

One thing I don't want to know about her is her name. That would take away all the mystery and glamour of Ms. X. What if she had a common name, like, say, Kim Jones? That would ruin it for me. A muggle clothing -obsessed witch by the name of Kim Jones? I don't think so. She would become so much more real with that sort of name- and I'm not sure I'm emotionally ready for that. She's better left unnamed, it's far more mysterious and dramatic.

er... bonjour? i want...er...croissant

I now regret giving up on Fleur and Jacque, my bodiless French teachers. I'm just too ADD, honestly. There is nothing I can do about it. I must accept that I am- and most likely always will be- but a lowly American. Depressing, when you think about it. Well, when I think about it. I'm sure you don't mind in the slightest- my lack of Europeanness. But, at least, had I continued on with Jacque and Fleur, I could have lied a bit more convincingly.

I'm getting off topic with my meaningless mumbling.

I've been looking up rates to Paris ( for what feels like forever but must've only been a week or two), and it seems like that is becoming tangible. Needless to say, I'm beside myself with excitement, and I'm already beginning to plan outfits in my head for a trip that probably won't happen for months. It's a bit difficult though. Although I've never been anywhere out of the Americas, I have enough knowledge of French style to know that I can't dress a certain way, or I might as well wear a big sign around my neck that declares me a tourist.

The French have been blessed with many things I so dearly admire. One is that they have God-given style. It's not fair, and it's not right, but they have it- and we don't. I mustn't look like I'm trying too hard while I'm there, as none of them never have to try at all. They can just throw something together, jeans, a cardigan, t-shirt, and sneakers- and it looks mind-bogglingly fabulous. I'm sorry, but Americans simply cannot do that. We can wear the same thing as a French person, and it'll look fair, but we can't style it the same. It's difficult for me to explain, but it's easy to see.

For example: There were French exchange students that came to school today (I was more excited than I am ready to admit) and even the boys stuck out like a sore thumb- to pardon my cliche. They're so... so... European. And I will say, I'm jealous.

f and when I go to France, I shall be frequenting the tourist-y places such as the Arc de Triomphe and Eiffel Tower, even though I will try not to look like a tourist)

If you think I'm going to France without looking at the Chanel store, you are seriously mistaken

I also hear that there are marvelous little boutiques and consignment shops in Paris. I'd like to go in them- at least, but I'm not sure the funds are all in order for shopping. Still, I'm not leaving without something French. Not even if you dragged me by my hair.

(photos from the google)

bragging session- so if you're not in the mood for that, i suggest you go elsewhere on the inter-web

As I have previously blurbed, I'm going to Parsons this summer (August 2nd, actually) for their Pre- College Fashion Design program. I'm more excited than... well, I can't think of a proper analogy to describe my feelings. I feel this is justified. I mean, this is where the Project Runway people worked for months! This was where the likes of Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, Anna Sui, Donna Karan, and MORE were educated! Those people have greatness (to speak the obvious...), and I am going where they got a bit of their greatness! For two weeks! What if I sit where Marc sat? I would die. D-I-E, die. What if his greatness rubbed from the table onto me? AHHH!!! I digress.

This is what it says about my program on the website, copy and pasted.

Fashion Design, Senior Level (Grades 9-12) PCAC0607
A 20 session(s). MTWRF, 9:00 AM-3:50 PM, beg. August 2.
CLOSED FOR REGISTRATION
Faculty TBA

In this course a professional designer helps students visualize and render fashion ideas from research to the final illustrations. The class discusses the fashion industry and students learn to recognize the qualities of a well designed garment. Field trips and visiting professionals inform students on processes, trends, and careers in fashion. (0 credits)

Visiting professionals, you say? I had a dream the other day that I was there and Diane von Furstenberg came- she proclaimed that I was her new apprentice. We then set off to get cappuccinos, where she told me her secret to success and we gabbed like schoolgirls. I don't think that it'll go like that though- and even if it did, I would have a total nerd moment like I did when Alexander Wang was ten feet away from me last year. I couldn't talk for an hour, I just kept staring like some sort of supreme dork (which, I remind, myself, I am).

I'm a little nervous about the actual designing of the garments though. I mean, I have a sketch book and everything where I draw stuff, but to actually share it with other humans? Bizarre. My drawing skills aren't exactly, err, masterful, and there are going to be high-school seniors there with a boat-load of experience! How to stand out among them??? I haven't a blessed clue.

But look at the times! Every day for two weeks, from 9-3:50! I'll be in the city all day! This is exactly what I want- I'll get to explore Manhattan properly! Dear Lord, a break from suburbia will be nice.

loves diamonds, platinum, and sky-high prices

To come out and admit it, I am a Tiffany's junkie. It's one of those masochistic loves, a single sided adoration. You see, no matter how much I pour my heart out to Tiffany's, how many times I stare at the web pages, checking for new products, or wander mindlessly around the store, the prices remain hopelessly out of reach. I know that it is unattainable, yet I continue to stalk those pieces of jewelry like a serial killer.

I, as any other respectable Tiffany groupie would, use their website to find the perfect engagement ring every few days (in case the opinion changes...), but the one that I typically stick to is this one:

It's an Edwardian, cushion cut, platinum ring with graduated side stones. I will pair it with the 2mm platinum band with diamonds all around, for an absolutely stunning combination.

There is one problem with my plan. You can't get engaged to yourself- so I will actually have to wait for someone to propose. And God knows how long that could take. Also, even if, by some miracle, that happens, how am I supposed to stamp it into the unfortunate man's mind the ring he needs to give me? I know I won't be too cheery for the rest of the marriage if I have to look at anything else on my finger.

Please try to bear my dramatic outburst

Rodarte. No matter how many times I watch it, there is always something else that I don’t totally understand, or at least, something new that keeps me interested. It seems new and fresh every time.

The tribal-arms thing is quite interesting. At first, I was under the impression that all the models had tattoos down their arms, like boho- biker chicks (an odd combination, when you think about it…), but then I realized that was stupid, and fifty-something models wouldn’t all decide to tattoo their arms all the way down- before the same show. So now I can’t decide whether they had some arm-pantyhose type thing, or if the marks were painted on. If they made tattoo pantyhose’s, I'd want some. I’d be fabulous. Fabulous.

It is also my understanding that the pieces are made from materials that have been destroyed. They were sandpapered, burned, aged, and quite a bit of other things to make the poor fabrics a shadow of what they used to be. But I liked it, oddly enough.

Typically, I don’t go for the gothic look, (it just looks pitiful when I try, or why bother?) but this had me intrigued. The women coming down the runway looked primitive, and angry, like they were going to eat me, but to use the most cliché word in fashion, it was chic. There was passion, and a story behind this collection. They all flowed together mysteriously, making you hunger for more, and want to understand why, why in world would these beautiful women be dressed in tatters and patches? Had they once been African queens, but been dethroned and exiled to the badlands where their ornate robes were reduced to rags and they were forced to scavenger for scraps of dead meat? Like in The Lion King? Were they so irate-looking because they were on a mission to retake their throne and kill the worthless scum that took it away from them? How could they possibly do this while wearing those Nicholas Kirkwood heels???? I want answers.

moral issues.

The majority of my day was spent in the car on the way to Delaware and at the rest stops in New Jersey, so there really isn't all too much for be to comment on about that, fashion wise, at least. But- I was thinking about counterfeit designer clothing. I have some thoughts.

Everyone has copies, whether they are prepared to admit it or not. I for one probably have more than ten fake Tiffany pieces drifting all over my room, and knockoff D&G glasses hanging around everywhere. Honestly speaking here, I hate copies, even though I have loads of them. They give you this dirty feeling inside wearing them, even though they look pretty and people believe they are real, you know that that ring on your finger was bought for $8 on Canal Street, not the boutique it appears to have hailed from. Nice as they are, you can never expect a knockoff to give you that fuzzy feeling inside when you know you have something that looks nice, because it's a lie that only the most keen can detect. Copies make you feel like you've cheated, on yourself and to the designer who slaved over it in the first place. Of course, I'm only speaking for myself, the rest of you may feel nothing.

Then there is the factor that mainly dictates why people buy knockoffs in the first place: they're cheap. There is no way on this earth that you could even dream of buying the newest Marc Jacobs bag for $40. It's ludicrous. To even voice the thought is simply batty. But then, you caaan get one that looks EXACTLY the same for that price! It even says his name on the bag! Everyone will believe you are the rightful owner of the $500+ purse that you didn't even need to use a Franklin for! Ahhhh, then the fake and yourself will go skipping into the sunset....

Well, when you think about it, that's kinda botched. All the people responsible for that handbag should be getting the money that they deserve from people buying it. But if people go and snatch their designs to make a cheaper, lower quality product that they privately sell, they aren't going to get the money for what they made, what they deserve. So really, when you think about it, you're stealing from Marc when you buy that bag.

But then, you think about the people who earn their livelihood by selling these products. To take them away from them would take away their money and business. They do have to make a living too.... But could they do it selling legal products of their own design? The designers do get a lot of money from the people who buy legitimate pieces anyway...

This is the moral struggle that goes on in my head every time I think about wearing my knockoffs.

Outfit:

What I wore today...

See by Chloe t-shirt, cardigan from Anthropology, Lucy Love skirt, Donna Karan socks, Ralph Lauren oxfords, and fake D&G glasses from Chinatown.

I've had that shirt for months, but for some reason, I have been forgetting to wear it. To tell the truth, it's probably my favorite t-shirt, especially because of the tie-dye ness of the letters and then the white shirt background. My mom brought home the sweater and it was exactly the same one that I honestly considered buying when I went there last. You can't imagine my joy when I saw it. The jersey is so soft, and the lace brings it back to that vintage feeling, but not so much that it's obvious.

Today, in social studies, since we're learning about the 20's, and it is the last day before spring break, we were supposed to dance the Charleston in social studies. Well, clearly, my lack of coordination and rhythm kept me from even pretending to do that, but I felt appropriately dressed for it! And although I do hate dancing, I love being appropriately dressed... so it wasn't too bad.

my fairy godmother has granted my wish

My mother went to a dead woman's house today to go through her clothing to see if she could sell any of it at the Bring n' Buy. It would be an incredible understatement to tell you that she found some lovely things. When she came home from work, she had a car full of garments that must have totaled over $100,000. I am not even joking. This woman, whoever she was, was clearly a hoarder, but my favorite type of hoarder- a couture hoarder. I don't know her, or her name even, so for the time being she will be referred to as Ms. X

There were piles after piles after piles of Armani suits. Over thirty, easily. And all of them were paid in full at Neiman Marcus and Saks. She clearly was not one to shop the clearance racks. In fact, I hear she was so sick, she never left the house, so it must've been online shopping. And I guess she never got to wear anything, because nearly every piece of her clothing my grubby

little fingers touched still had the tags on.

Photographic Evidence:

I spent all afternoon loading these bags and boxes full of Ms. X's clothes. They were heavy.

Armani jacket, below- one of many. The price tag? $3,499.

My mom in an Armani leather jacket. Paid in full, of course.

ME, with some of Ms. X's D&G sunglasses. Receipt was in the case.

I thought I had a issue with collecting shoes. Ms. X had- in all sincerity- a PROBLEM. All her shoes were Jimmy Choo, Ferragamo, Stuart Weitzman, Prada,... and so on. All with tags, all unworn. The most action these shoes had seen was me screaming when I opened the boxes. And there were probably twenty boxes. According to my mom, this wasn't even 1/10 of what she still has to get from the house. I'm excited. It's too bad she wasn't my size...

Ahhhh, the boxes. The boxes, the boxes, the boxes. There were Hermes scarves falling out of bags all over my driveway today- it was as though I was in a marvelous dream that I never wanted to wake up from. I certainly wasn't even close to getting a scarf, but still, a magical experience.

I was allowed one jacket. One. The rest are going to the huge B&B extravaganza estate sale which I plan to work so that I can collect pieces as well. Anyway, this is Ralph Lauren Black Label. Black. Label. Dear lord. It's yet another purchase of Ms. X's from Neimans for a whopping $1,999. I lose my breath a little bit every time I look at it. The suade is so supple, and it fits me perfectly.

Honestly, for a little while, I was a bit disturbed about touching a dead woman's things, but I got over it once I realized what a good shopper she had been, and I began to lust over her clothing. Oh, and guess what the best part about this experience is? We still have to go back and get a few more closets full of clothing!!! Flipping out.

do re me fa sol la ti do ti la sol fa mi re do

Don't pay attention to the title, I've just had that stuck in my head since chorus... and it's driving me into madness. I just had to write it somewhere to get it out of my head.

Had to get my hair cut again today. It grows like a weed, but only when it's short. When I actually wanted it to grow, it refused. It's like my very own hair is trying to work against me. I feel so betrayed. You know what else I feel betrayed by? The weather. I was really warming up to this heat, and I have been moaning over it all winter- so it feels like a soccer punch to the stomach when it's in the LOW FIFTIES THIS WEEK! A little heat is all I ask, and I can't even get that.

Aaaaaaaand, to add to my list of grievances, which is basically what this is becoming, I took all my pretty shorts and skirts out of storage and now I can't wear them. Woe is me.

Which brings me to my topic: Jumpsuits/ Rompers

Roland Mouret

Chloe

I happen to adore these long jumpsuits, although they can sometimes resemble prison uniforms. Also, they are really hard to go to the bathroom in, since the top of the garment has to be taken down as well as the bottom in order to, yeah- unless you buy yours from a clever, bathroom- minded designer, of course. Just thought that was vital information that you simply needed to know.

Valentino

Karl Lagerfeld

Azzaro

Honestly, the short ones are my favorites. The first two really embody that spritely feeling in their length and cut which I die over a million times. Rompers without straps, especially the Karl Lagerfeld scream perfection to me- although it doesn't really obey the "dress code" at school. For one thing, the model's finger tips aren't shorter than the shorts end, and there's no straps. And it looks far too happy. She'd have to go to her gym locker and change. To make it more "school appropriate" I'd put simple a t-shirt under it to dress it down or a frilly white blouse underneath to dress it up. Eyelet. I'm beginning to salivate.

My past experiences with rompers were terrifying and I'd like to bury that in my past, if you don't mind. I bought a really super cheap one at the mall- and lets just say that it will now be a beach cover-up. Urg. Shiver.

I'd like to get a new one, actually... there was one at the marvelous Anthropology the other day.... but I mustn't tempt myself.

A Pitifully Short Post

Today, I went to the Anthropology all the way in New York City. And I didn't buy one thing, even though I had a fifty dollar gift card. I believe I am beginning to grow some self restraint.

MANNISH!!! ROAR!!!

Today was comprised mainly of writing paragraphs for an english project and sitting,twiddling my thumbs in the car on the way back and forth from Edwin's soccer games. And I didn't change out of my pajamas yet today. I feel so dingy and gross because I went out of the house like this, but then I don't really care too much. It's kinda cold again, unfortunately, I was really starting to get used to sitting outside instead of in the corner of my room and doing homework. Stupid nature, ruining my fun.

So while doing nothing, basically, all day, I was thinking about Dr. Martens. When I say Dr. Martens, I mean the boots. I can't seem to decide whether or not I think they are appealing or not. Sometimes I think they are for tasteless goths or industrial workers, and they are suited more for practical purposes than fashion. Then, every once in a while, though, I see someone wear them- and i just looks, for lack of a better word, cool.

(photos from dr.martens.com)

They can come off as a quirky sort of bohemian type look, which may be why they may be growing on me a little bit. With a proper outfit accompanying them, they might not entirely look as though you have lost your mind.

My issue, however, with them is the sole. It is too big and mannish. I don't particularly care for big and mannish, especially on something that goes on my feet. They are work boots, work boots that are designed especially for that construction worker who likes a little color in his life. I have difficulty seeing these for women once I see the sole. IF they changed the sole to be less mannish, I would be more fond towards these. Will they listen to me though? No.

underthings have a difficult time transitioning into overthings

My internet died again, hence the week-long silence. It was pathetically difficult for me, not to be able to go online for a week, since I'm not exactly one of those "play outside" types of girls. Most of the time I'm here on the computer, frying brain cells and slowly turning my eyeballs square over runway show after runway show. And I don't regret it either. I can accredit most of my knowledge of actually important things to the internet.

Anyway, my concentration for the time being is on the lingerie as actual clothing trend that you would have to be both blind and deaf not to notice. It was in nearly every show that I saw for this season, from Marc Jacobs to Dolce and Gabbana to Missoni.

In order: Marc Jacobs, Jean Paul Gaultier, Alexander Wang

Pretending for a moment that we are all gorgeous Amazonian s who weighed 60 pounds soaking wet, this would work nicely. Unfortunately for us, we are not, and it is my belief that only the woman who is 6'2 can even dream of pulling off a corset and briefs- in any environment. A sad fact of life, indeed. But, there are other factors that contribute to make this a rather unwearable trend. Pretty as it is, I doubt this type of garment is suitable for any workplace, you'd be fired for indecent exposure. I'd also imagine it'd be a bit embarrassing to walk around in your underclothes all day.

And people like me couldn't even begin to think about trying this because we would be shunted out of our little sheltered communities, for being extremely bizarre-looking or something. I'm sure it's a law here. It'd be worth it though, just to drive people insane. Muahaha.

happy happy colors

I spend a good five hours so far today peeling carrots, cutting carrots, and mixing carrots into my carrot cake that is supposed to be for Easter, but most certainly will not last that long. Right now, I'm pretty irritated with baby carrots. They are too wet once you get them out of the fridge, and they slip around in your hands when you're trying to peel them. This has resulted in several cuts on my hands. Baby carrots are also too small, and they remind me of amputated baby fingers. It isn't very enjoyable to sit in the sun peeling what looks like baby fingers after a severe spray tan.

Actually, the one thing I don't hate about the baby carrots is the color. Orange. It's my favorite color, and a very appropriate color to be wearing today because of the happy spring-ness that we will probably enjoy for another week before it rains again. Orange is a happy color, unlike purple, which is, in fact, the color of insanity... and royalty. I find it interesting how those things are related.

Anyway, the first thing that comes to my mind when thinking about orange in fashion is, well the Hermes (excuse the lack of accent) boxes that everyone wishes they will someday find on their front doorstep, left by the handbag fairies or something. At least, that's what I wish.

I also, for some reason, think of those neon orange jelly Tory Burch flats. I don't even know why. And so I went on the website to see if they still have them, just for curiosity's sake. Although, I often struggle with accessories that have labels stamped across them. It always seems garish to me.

I like these though. Even though everyone and their mother owns a pair. Correction: everyone and their mother owns a pair of the leather ballet flats. These must be a lot more comfortable, as their rubber, which is appealing, though I usually don't go for comfort over style. They are almost Croc-like in the way that you could walk all day in them without getting one blister.

Although, while going through all of her shoes, the clogs stood out far more than these. I would choose those over that any day, even though they don't come in my happy color. This will be a necessary improvement.

They do come in gold, though. Close enough.

Jenna Lyons

(photo credit to the neotraditionalist,com)

This is the exact same clipping that I ripped out of a Town and Country magazine some time last summer. I actually kept it, and I could find it, which is amazing considering all the random papers strewn all over my room.

She's the creative director of J. Crew, and I found her beginnings in the fashion industry very inspirational. Her grandmother gave her a sewing machine when she was a teenager, and she started to make her own clothes. Then, she graduated from Parsons The New School for Design (helloo) and then joined J. Crew, where she's been working for 20- odd years. You probably know her best from the "Jenna's Picks" that are sometimes on the walls in the stores and throughout the catalog.

I don't want to sound really egotistical or narcissistic or cocky or anything, but it's going to look like that anyway, so I was just thinking that she sounds a little like me. I mean, my grandma gave me my sewing machine, and I make clothes too. And I really want to go to Parson's too. I can only hope to be as successful as her though.