Sweater Nostalgia

I haven't posted in like a week because, well, I have nothing of interest to say. Sure, I could tell you oodles about the new Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park that I want desperately to go to (but someone's mother thinks it's immature and won't let me...) or how much I want an English bulldog( named something that sounds old and French, and he would never grow past puppyhood- so I could get a large orange Birkin bag to carry him around in), but I doubt very much that you'd care to hear it. I have far too much time on my hands but will do nothing productive with it.

Now, I have a confession. I miss sweaters. This is quite possibly the most ridiculous statement to share because those of you who (maybe?) read my postings in the winter months know that I moaned ceaselessly about the cold... and the snow... and the ice... and basically anything else that I could. But now it's 110 degrees! I didn't ask for this! At these temperatures, I can't even go outside without breaking into a sweat, mind you, I don't usually go outside that much. To edit my statement, I don't miss the winter, I just miss layers. And sweaters.

Alex White will show you why.

Prada just makes sweaters just so cozy-looking, and the belt takes the rugged-ness it to a more feminine level. Oh, and Miss Palvin's hair is divine.

I love love love love a million times love Marc Jacobs' shoes with those socks, and I can't even think of the proper words to say why. And I really do wish that I had shorts like that because you know I would be the one in December getting frostbite because the shorts are so magical. I could wear them to school, as I don't imagine they'd enforce the shorts dress code then.

So there we go, I am easily influenced by W. Sue me.

26 DAYS TIL PARSONS.

W Won't Ever Be Quite the Same

Favorite Quote:

February 1996-

"I say, let's have happy clothes. You could reply that's frivolous in a troubled world, but do you really think dressing like an existential nun with suicidal thoughts is going to save Bosnia?"

- Countess Louise Estherhazy

Some Paranoia?

I like Free People... except that it's rather mainstream now. Mainstream makes me break out into hives. Well, I'm not really that affected, but I don't like it. Oh, so I was talking about this top. I bought it (well actually my mother spent the money, but she owed me, so) yesterday and I'm excited to wear it with a blazer-- preferably navy blue.

Um, it doesn't look quite as gorgeous on me because I am not, nor will I ever be the 6'2 model here. I also don't really care to be suctioned into my clothes so mine is considerably looser. I'm a nit picker, especially when it comes to clothes, as you may be able to tell.

And... um... HELLO!!!! PARSONS IS IN A MONTH!!!! BY GOLLY, I'M EXCITED!!!! I still need to get my supplies list and such, because I've been having nightmares where Tim Gunn and Heidi Klum call me a failure because I show up with only a pencil and without my shoes. And then Michael Kors starts making snarky remarks in that high pitched voice of his -while Nina shoots me a dirty look in the corner. I end up crying on the runway. I know that the entire scenario is absolutely crazy, but still, the thought of Michael Kors calling me a mess is a very scary thought indeed.

Dior to Adore

John Galliano typically makes me a very happy girl. His resort collection this year is no exception. It is a gorgeous blend of extreme femininity and the late 50's - early 60's glamour that I so adore. It also incorporates more of the masculine side of things... but I won't even touch upon that. This is simply because I desperately dreaming of dresses (unintentional alliteration.. I did learn something this year!) and I can't even stand to think of wearing anything else in this heat.

I am reminded vividly of the proud wife and homemaker of the fifties. All frills, lipstick, and sensible heels, perfect combination. I wish I lived in that era.

If I were to add something to this outfit it would be a large pink poodle patch. Don't ask me why or where, it just has to be there.

If I were to be so cliché I would say that this picture here is worth a description of a thousand words... but why would I ever say that? When I can simply call it elegant and romantic and sophisticated and beautiful... I wish I wore it to 8th grade graduation.

This is very... young, but in a good way, not like baby young, but -- youthful and full of life. It has energy.

I love it I love it I love it. It is just ladylike and prissy in the best way imaginable.

When I was watching this show the Spoonful of Sugar song from Mary Poppins was playing in my head, perhaps because of the sugary sweetness of many of the looks. Anyway, I can't get it out of my head now and I thought maybe I'd inflict Julie Andrew's voice on some other people!

Alexander Wang Resort Wear

I am ridiculously behind the times and it's aggravating. My computer was... um... taken away, so I haven't had the time to do any of this here blogging! Annnnd, to add insult to injury, resort wear has come out-- and I've BARELY had a chance to look at it! The injustice is seething inside me! And so I must bring it into overdrive to catch up.

You may or may not be aware of my intense love for Alexander Wang. Well, now you are, at least. It is actually more of a nerd-like obsession (similar to those who are addicted to Justin Beiber, althoughI like to think my obsession is a bit more healthy) that began last September at his show, where I was so shocked to be so close to such brilliance that I just about lost my marbles. I could've said something, but I temporarily lost speech. Ever since, I've had photos of him and his collection up in my locker. Be very disturbed.

Ah, the minimalism. Awkward fitting sweaters, leather shorts, socks with sandals. How very perfect.

Structured blazers have a soft spot in my heart. To pair them with long johns takes a certain kind of bravery, and I fully respect whoever has the courage to do so. In addition, I really love how he has stayed true to his ascetic with the bag.

I so admire how he can turn the reputation of sandals with socks (hairy men on the beach with beer bellies, anyone?) into something chic and desirable.

YES

Pants nipped at the ankle are God's gift to the world. Maybe that was a tad dramatic, but I will stand by it.

I have far more to say in the matter of Resort Wear 2011...so I will be posting again-- tomorrow. That's a promise.

excuses, excuses

I haven't been able to post anything due to a combination of laziness... and yeah, just laziness. But I have these pretty dress photos all the way from Memorial Day that I've been trying unsuccessfully to upload. Eventually, Anna had to do it for me. (Thanks!) I really need to work on my computer skills, because I have absolutely no idea how to do that. It's actually rather funny.

The first one is sideways, but I don't really care because it looks far more interesting than a picture of me standing against a wall in a shop. It was in Butterflies and Zebras, a new shop on Main Street (which, as you may interpret, is the only street with shops in Ridgefield). I liked it because that dress was cute and the people told me I looked pretty- which is more than enough for me to like something.

The dress was kinda awesome because it has a mind of its own. The bottom, as you can see, holds itself up in a whirl of swirls. Hah, my poetic skills amuse even me. I did enjoy it, but I couldn't wear it now because of my ridiculous sunburn-line ( I have the skin of an albino) that is almost in the form of a necklace. Woe is me.

A Molly Ringwald Moment

I'm having an 80's -Molly Ringwald moment right now. I think I'm going to Netfilx The Breakfast Club... right now. Hopefully I'll still be in my little moment when it arrives.