Last Emperor Strikes Back

The first day there's a bit of chill in the air, my heart rate picks up a beat and I get this back to school feeling of wanting to step up my energy level, get into a new routine (take lessons in something, exercise more)... I finally get to wear my new boots, my skinny jeans, and to play around with colored and patterned tights and scarves that are too hot and too much bother in the summertime...
(photos - how I make a summer wool suit work for fall, and one of my Copenhagen purchases - two-toned tights from Sneaky Fox worn with summer wool black dress).


And then my stomach drops like I just hit a dip in the road that I hadn't expected and I realize.. gulp.. time for the seasonal closet rehaul. I know it sounds like nothing, but there's something a bit accusatory when your doorman tells you there's too much dry cleaning for you to take up in the elevator with you in 6 trips. All those clothes - my clothes - hidden away for the season have now come back home, reminding me that.. yep.. there are a lot of them. And it's a feat of engineering and some sacrifice to fit them back into my closet. It's hard to face. The big bill doesn't help, either.. Gulp.

Despite all my gulping as I paid that bill this evening, I still was hungry, so I made dinner and watched Valentino, the Last Emperor, a movie I'd missed in theaters because I was having too much fun at happy hour with Michelle to make it. It's one of those great movies where you laugh at the outsized personalities and "out of touch-ness" of prima donnas (or primo huomos?). (Example: hating an entire museum because of one stair rail that reminds him of Macy's).. But it pulled me away from feeling a little self destructive guilt (self destructive because I'm not going to change the behavior that leads to the guilt because the rest of the time that behavior makes me really happy). And the movie reminded me again of why I have all those clothes in the first place. Because it's my creative outlet and because they're beautiful (or at least, I think they are) and if I have a choice, I want my life to be beautiful too. There may be more important things in life, but not THAT many, really. Aesthetics are far too underrated.

So, as a tribute to the reminder that Valentino gave me, I am accepting the fact that I have a whole lot of purses hanging in my foyer and am now considering that my decor (and I added a tiny little Valentino clutch). Rationalization is another of my creative outlets...

Souk-a-Matic

Sometimes I think of things to write when something strikes me and sometimes I just take the ideas that you all give me (like Lederhosen for women - thanks Janice!). My friend Aina asked me if I would write something on on-line shopping. This topic required some creative thinking about what angle I'd take since I don't really shop on-line, having got a little burned with some purchases in the past. (cue flashback...)

A few years ago, I fell for a metal belt by Valentino in the shape of a snake. I think I had this great idea of a waist-cinching belt that was a little Greek goddess, a little Goth, and a little Art Nouveau and that would pull in blousy tops over jeans and be both tough and pretty. Sadly, as with most things, the reality was a bit different from the fantasy and it didn't fit well (cast metal isn't flexible), was droopy (cast metal is heavy), and just didn't work with anything I owned (cast metal is weird). Luckily, they took it back.

After that, online clothing shopping lost a bit of its appeal for me.. The only things I have bought in the past year are a basic black cotton turtleneck (yawn), iTunes and Amazon downloads, some nice laundry products (double yawn), a suitcase, a PS2 game for my nephew, and food from freshdirect for a friend's baby shower party.. That's about it.

But it's not just once bitten, twice shy.. I like walking to a store, talking to people there, trying things on, getting a good sense of how something feels, fits, and works with what I have... Maybe that's why it always seems so appealing to shop when I'm traveling. The object I buy comes with a story and the interactive social experience of talking to salespeople and other shoppers and picking that thing (or things) out of everything else in the shop. Yes, there's a risk that I'm getting ripped off. I know I overpaid for my rugs and the "saffron" my sister and I bought in the souk in Morocco, but it was fun, we drank a lot of mint tea, and came back with some new stories to tell when we got home. And I didn't even have to carry the heavy rugs I bought as the chivalrous gentlemen who sold us our rugs made Megan carry mine as well as hers, as I had a broken wrist. Sorry Megan!

And if I'm not traveling, but am wandering around home in New York (aka shopper's paradise), I feel like I want a barrier to stop me from going into all the amazing boutiques rather than another means of access!!

A number of my friends have had much more luck than I have. My friend Annabel in London got a gorgeous dress from Net-a-porter and Ann (who wrote a comment on this blog about her experience with harem pants this spring) finds great stuff - and great deals through on-line shops. I have other friends who have a great eye (and success) on eBay, too.

I read in this week's FT "How to Spend It" magazine about on-line vintage shopping and thought this could be something I'd like. Like fishermen, many of us have our "great catch" stories of what we found in little hole in the wall vintage shops. (Mine are a 1970's Diane von Fuersternberg jersey dress and 1980's Ungaro blouse, both for peanuts.) But, to be honest, I didn't enjoy breathing in all that dust (those shops always felt a little dirty to me) and always felt like I needed to sanitize anything I bought.

Vintage now seems to have gone upscale with all the editing (and hopefully cleaning) already done for you. It's like looking at the Met's Costume Gallery - only it's all for sale! But, as I learned, if it looks like a collector piece, it's priced like a collector piece. The sites mentioned in the FT article had some amazing 100+ year old clothes. And, if one of them had actual online shopping and not just teaser photos with a London phone number, a gorgeous slinky 1940's cocktail dress would be mine. But then, for a different reason, another dress caught my eye: a 1970's floral dress from Montaldo's, an old school, and quite expensive shop that used to be in Winston-Salem, NC (and some other mid-sized US cities in the south and southwest). The dress was sweet, but what really grabbed my attention was the price - GBP 475, or $760. Maybe I'm missing something, but that's for used clothes, right? And this isn't exactly vintage Lanvin. That can't be right! I bet it had been donated to the Jr League Rummage Sale! Anyhow, it killed my desire to buy the 1940's dress online. Maybe, when I'm next in London, I'll stop by and check out the shop in person. Even though you'd think there would be more information and more transparency in on-line shopping, I feel about as easy a mark as I did in Marrakech.



























Nothing in this photo was bought online, but my dress is the vintage DVF and the carpet is one of the two that Megan generously carried for me through the souk.

And Megan, I owe you again because I'm pretty sure the souk photo (main photo) I used is one you took.
As you can see from the photo directly above, I'm not a photographer (or a model).