Recently in Fashion Category

Must have these beauties from Tatty Devine's new collection!

Hot Karl! I will take absolutely everything from the Parisian accessory house of Yazbukey. If I have to narrow it down, though, here are a few of my choices...

Or don't. Because you're awesome. Teamo's Vincent Gallo t-shirt is for sale at Bona Drag.

I used to have an imaginary hillbilly rock band with my friend Jeff named GINGHAM. We never learned how to play instruments so we took the name and slapped it onto our theatre company. The Gingham Theatre Company has only produced one play at this juncture (which was pretty well received at the New York Fringe Festival awhile back), but we're currently using our hiatus to lubricate the creative muse so to speak. Thus, I'd like to invoke these gingham accessories from Tatty Devine to magically fly across the pond and land upon our persons. We need the inspiration.

Dear Intergalactic Space Diva from the Planet Disco 2000,

Please emerge from your techno cocoon and bestow us with your dancing pigtail madness! Bring back your platform sneakers, your late-night Tootsie Pop orange. Relive the days of raves and poses, make them brighter than neon junebugs and lady bunny heat. (We need your flippy banter, your cat-eyed giggle beat.) My supperdish, my succotash wish, now is the time to dance and have some fun.

Signed,

Snipa (Former Princess of the Protean Beat)

I'm a few days late, but I haven't missed out on the party entirely. It seems a rather lackluster Fashion Week, if I do say so myself. The shows lack punch, and the parties groove forward with predictable--yet waning--vigor. As always, I stand on the sidelines watching, waiting patiently for someone to WOW me. Perhaps it's the recession or the lingering shadow that is the untimely death of one of my fashion heroes, Lee McQueen--a remarkable designer who never failed to entertain his audiences with consistently innovative and over-the-top spectacles. Whatever it is, something seems off about New York Fashion Week this year, and I endeavor to find out why.

At first, I thought it was due to runway shows giving way to presentations, but often the presentations are a much more entertaining (and less expensive) alternative. Scott Sternberg conjured up Wes Anderson-y magic with his Boy by Band of Outsiders presentation. Preppy, cheeky fun in cinematic tableau is the best way to look at his clothes, not to mention taking in the tableau of well-known fashion editors actually smiling at his creations. The same applies to Lorick. I adore Abigail Lorick's cheeky take on the imagined uptown tea-party set. At yesterday's presentation, she unveiled "Angels and Cocoons," a shimmering display of wispy cocktail dresses and tweedy suiting popping with bright green accents, which was inspired by a Eugène Carrière painting at the Met.

I'm finding that I actually prefer presentations to runway shows. For one, you can take in the ensembles for as long as you want and notice details often lost in the whizz of the runway waltz. Also, the designers themselves are in the room with you answering questions or providing ear-shot insight about what went in to the collection. There are some exceptions to the runway rule, of course, such as Vena Cava who always display their enigmatic cool at heightened decibels. Or Karen Walker whose girls always seem to clomp confidently through the room with know-it-all literary character.

That being said, I still want whimsy and exploding grandeur the likes of which are only seen in Paris. Marc Jacobs has already mentioned a celeb-free show, which is fine by me as long as he gives us his the same killer styling theatrics (kudos to Venetia Scott and Camille Bidault-Waddington) or a return to eye-popping set design (like his S/S 2007 show). In the meantime, I look forward to a few more presentations this week and some shows that are off the NYFW grid. I'm hungry for that which is not on the radar, those who are ready to usher in a new revolution. Is it possible? We shall see.

For now, I leave you with David Sedaris expounding on the perfect accessory.

Goths, Soviet teen punks, long haired guinea pigs, and "the most beautiful Burger King in the world." I'm LOVING Vena Cava's new blog!

A lovely collage courtesy of Viva Vena Cava

As per usual, Marc Jacobs trumps all with his super-fun, neu-wave, hyper-eighties slash fest of ribboned dresses, tuck n' tapered trousers, and pseudo-kilts. The man can do no wrong. He's the only designer that has any fun during New York Fashion Week (with the exception of Betsey Johnson's whimsy and Vena Cava's lovely tableaus). Marc is the one we all wait for, and he's the one that never disappoints. At this point, I've completely overlooked the fact that he never made eye-contact with me all of those years when I made sure the kitchen had enough of his favorite chocolate pudding in stock. But that's another story for another day. Today, cheers to you Mr. Jacobs! You Stinky Rat, you.

Here's what I want to wear come fall (still debating on whether to attempt the Flock hair...could be fun!):

(Courtesy of A Shaded View on Fashion)

As a long-time fan of Isabel Toledo, it was a true delight to see Michelle Obama wearing one of her dresses this morning. Isabel and Ruben Toledo (or the "Bolero Duo" as I like to call them as they remind me of a sharp, red waistcoat trimmed in elegant black brocade) are two of New York City's most enigmatic artists. He paints; she makes clothes. They fell in love in high school and are continually each other's muses. With impeccable style and eccentric glamour, they create art that intertwines with their lives.

Then there's their home loft/atelier. In a word it's a dream. I saw their apartment in both New York magazine and the Woody Allen film Melinda and Melinda and fell in love with them all over again. What an amazing space!

So on this wonderful, celebratory day, I want to extend a hearty congratulations to Isabel Toledo. I hope she finally gets the world-wide recognition she deserves.

Once, when I went to Universal Studios, I wore my favorite black velvet hat with big mauve roses on the front. I loved that hat. It made me feel unique. Anyway, this little girl got really excited when she saw me. She started pointing and tugging on her mom's sleeve excitedly. This is who she thought I was.

You know what? From this picture, I wasn't that far off.

A bunch of my talented, creative, and resourceful lady friends have started an awesome new blog called Recession This! to help us all "navigate the economic downturn with style and humor". Loaded with quick witted tips, delicious recipes, and freebies galore, Recession This will keep you from Dreading That which ails us in these trying times. "Cheap but Chic"!

Courtesy of nitro:licious and Refinery29

I'm hyperventilating. COMME des GARCONS is my FAVES. Whenever I'm feeling listless, I go to the COMME store to stroke the sweaters or spray three different parfums on my person (in COMME-Land, you say parfum). Two weeks ago, I filed out of a rather lackluster fashion show and made my way to COMME for inspiration. It's silent when you enter the egg-shaped door. One minute you're on a jack-hammered Chelsea street, and the next you're floating into a Japanese space pod where no one speaks lest the dripping racks of black go unheard humming their solemn lullabies. In COMME-Land, you find yourself fingering dresses that defy imagination, waists cinched and hems tucked preposterously. You're distracted by white t-shirts bearing hearts with suspicious eyes. Stripes are king, but obsidian reigns, and on a tidy glass shelf you can sample the scent of Kyoto.

I often imagine what it must be like to take a dress from the rack (and a pair of gold oxfords) and have it wrapped in black tissue. What would it be like to take my COMME dress and shoes in my COMME tissue and bag out for some sake afterwards? I'm going to find out in November. I may not get to waltz into the space pod to do it, but I will be FIRST in line at my trusty H&M to get my hands on everything in the COMME des GARCONS for H&M collection. Unlike Karl or Stella or the travesty that was Cavalli, I will not hold myself back. Oh no, I will fight for this stuff (I'm talking to you Conde Assistants International), and I will win my black and my white with my polka dots all over.

Who else wants to...
?

Photo courtesy of Alix at Modepass

My current obsession is Modepass, a fashion and beauty site with TONS of self-generated "street-style" photos. Basically, you sign up for a member page then upload your own photo shoots. These ladies go all out, too. One of my faves is the Parisian internet sensation Alix, she of the fantastic style blog ...the cherry blossom girl... I suggest pouring yourself a tall glass of iced hibiscus tea, throwing a couple of petit fours on a plate, then blasting some AIR while you click away. Here are a few more lovelies...

Photo courtesy of Balibulle

Germaine

PUNKYB

I have long been a fan of Milk, France's ultimate children's fashion magazine. They recently extended their publication to Japan, and the results are both inspiring and hysterical...and way better than most adult fashion magazines. Here's a look at my favorite spread. When I have a kid, I want a little Hockney...

The new Tatty Devine collection is available, and I'm screamin' for these:

Why not pair them with Bjork's new 3-D video?

"Please, please, please can I borrow your ticket? My girlfriend is stuck in STANDING ROOM. Ohmygod, you're a life saver!"

I was "Gabrielle" last night at the Alice Temperley show. I've been keeping it light this Fashion Week so I can swizzle my sticks in other cocktails, but being back in the ol' circus tent made me miss the soul sucking pandemonium of it all. There's something thrilling about ascending those concrete steps, flashing an embellished invitation, getting the nod, then being bombarded by girls in shaky heels brandishing the latest issue of The Daily.

When you get to the doors of the Bryant Park tents, you can already feel the energy pulsating on the other side. There's a two second check you do before going in. A quick sweep of the bangs, a secret tug on the skirt, one delicate smack of the lips. Once the door is opened, that's it. You're sucked into a twittering vortex of flashing bulbs, cacophonous chatter, swirls of colorful advertising, and a multitude of eyes all staring at you.

New stuff at Tatty Devine!

The new Built by Wendy fall collection is "trickling in!" I'm a long time fan of Wendy Mullins' quirky-classic sweaters, jeans, and movie inspired tees (hello, Mr. Wonka). Don't even get me started on the dresses. When you wear a Built by Wendy dress, people will sneak glances at you while you wait for the subway, full on accost you at the coffee truck, or punch you in the arm at a wedding.

"HEY! IS THAT MT. RUSHMORE ON YOUR DRESS?!"

"That would be Thomas Jefferson, our third President, an avid horticulturist."

Built by Wendy, people! You can learn something from it! You can school your friends! So, here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking you should treat yourself to this Sailor Pullover right here.

Now, put it on, fluff up the couch, and pop in a DVD of "Niagara, Niagara" to witness Robin Tunney's fantastic and totally underrated performance. She's awesome.

Built by Wendy is awesome. Goodnight.

We were in London having expensive cocktails at St. Martins Lane when she walked in. My back was to the room, Jeff was facing out, but I felt the air shift when she entered. Skinny, with ink blot hair and a wispy confection of feathers crowning her face, she was unmistakable.

"Oh my God, Jeff. It's Isabella Blow!"

We watched her glide past us and duck into an unseen area in the back of the bar. My heart raced in her wake...this fantastical British style icon and Auntie Mame-ish wisp. She of the mystical hats and blood stained lips peacocking her way through Fashion Weeks across the globe year after year and, now, in front of us. For a li'l lass from West Texas who watched Style with Elsa Klensch religiously as a child, this sighting, this brush with Fashion Greatness, was my li'l dream come true.

She was with a few other people, and they were all dressed up for some fantastic party or event or something. I'd like to think she looked that way all of the time. Fluffed, puckered, and cinched...even when going for a quick cocktail after work or for the newspaper in the morning. I'd like to think that she lived in a white marble townhouse accented in black and white striped awnings with a gold leaf staircase winding up from a harlequin-tiled foyer floor. I'd like to think that she had a hat library next to her bedroom. That all of her hats were color-coded and displayed on crystal busts molded in her image. I'd like to think that she had 50 different types of red lipstick and that some were collector's items from the the 1920's that had never been worn. I'd like to imagine that on Sunday mornings, when no one was around, she'd host a parade of mini horses wearing tiny velvet top hats on their heads.

Isabella Blow, stylist, editor-at-large, former assistant to Anna Wintour before quitting to move to West Texas herself and work for designer Guy Laroche (yee-haw!), discoverer of uber-designer Alexander McQueen, muse to madhat milliner Philip Treacy, and all-around triumphant global style creature was pronounced dead at the age of 48 this past Sunday.

I'm really saddened by her death. She deserves to be remembered by style scribes the world over because, without her, there's nothing really EXCITING in the world of fashion right now. She wore what she wanted and demanded that attention be paid to individual style. Clothing as art. Image as sculpture. Shock and awe with detailed sartorial elegance.

I wish the papers, or at least the ones that are supposed to be devoted to the business of fashion, would have the decency and class to focus on that rather than speculation on how she died (which is what many of them are focusing on). A gruesome rumor pinned onto a death is nothing but a tacky accessory. If you're interested in learning more about Isabella Blow, I urge you to read the Daily Telegraph's tribute, "Death of an Original", written by an original herself, Hilary Alexander.

In the aftermath of a rather lackluster and utterly boring display of Hollywood-styled-to-death "fashion" at the annual Costume Institute gala this week (with the exception of the venerable Charlotte Gainsbourg), I, for one, am gonna miss the hell out of Isabella Blow. Who will show up with the Parthenon on her head?? Who will peek out from behind protruding dollar signs or pose with a mess of pink spaghetti over her eyes?

Who, just WHO, will fly down a red carpet under a giant crown of silver wings?

I'm guessing she's doing just that right now.

The search for the perfect dress for my friend's upcoming Vegas wedding continues. Sadly, as my funds continue to dwindle, so do my options. But if I were to win the lottery, I might just buy this Burberry Prorsum dress below. I know it's a dark color for spring, but I'd kick it up Vegas style with lots of gold accoutrements. And fun hair. Oh, and these, of course.

Hello, Gorgeous. Where have you been all my life, Li'l Oil Rig Dress? I know you're black and white and shy all over, but I'm not ashamed to say that I see the beauty in you. Ahem, I think I have to have you. I know you're feeling lonely, so how's about I give you a couple of these babies to keep you company? No? Ok, then how's about them apples! Oh, Li'l Oil Rig Dress, you are playing HARD TO GET!

One of my dearest friends is getting married in Las Vegas next month, and that means I've gotta find a dress in three weeks. Oh, and it's gotta be smashing. I always think of weddings as a time to costume myself...go for the outlandish. If I had my choice, I'd be in either Vivienne Westwood or some sort of Yohji mashup. Alas, my funds tend to lean more towards the Urban-Hennes-Anthropologie variety, and I've seen way too many same-dress mishaps that keep me from purchasing "the" dress from one of these otherwise dandy establishments. Usually, I lean more towards vintage, but I've got crazy time constraints in April that may keep me from finding hidden treasure. Thus, I'm thinking about ponying up a little extra cash to find something I can play up with accessories and also wear frequently. A.P.C., why can't you make make more fancy-party-friendly styles! Sigh. My goal is to find something with great shape and COLOR. Here's what I'm loving right now:

The AJUMA dress from Zero Maria Cornejo.

Ok. I cannot break my addiction to black clothing. I love this dress from Lyell. Simply detailed, beautifully cut, and classic without being conservative; in other words, an absolute dream. I'll be frank here. I ALWAYS wear black dresses, and it's high time I break my habit and go for color. The bright lights of the Vegas Strip shall be my inspiration! Urgh, I'm doing my darndest not to choose another noir number but this dress, people. I. Can't. Resist. It. And how cute are her Heidi braids?

The SERENA dress from Marc by Marc Jacobs, aka "Mr. Favorite". He's such a pudding pop! And I love this minty spring tuxedo dress...although, I don't think it's really my style. Hmmm.

The search continues...

Grab a strong espresso, a quiet nook (your desk space will do), and warm up to ten glorious pages of one of the greatest creative minds of the 20th and 21st centuries, Mr. Karl Lagerfeld.

It's no secret that I big heart love Tatty Devine and the lovely ladies who create such whimsical accessory magic. Their new Spring/Summer Collection is here, so please pop on over to their online boutique or visit them in person if you happen to be skipping around London one fine afternoon!

p.s. Dear Hamish, I like wings. Just sayin'.