on bachata, polka dots & why a hint of vulgarity is always welcome in a lady’s wardrobe.

Apparently I’ve (unofficially) declared a hiatus over the past two weeks. Or month, rather. the Nancy Drews of any readers I do have can probably sleuth around my Twitter and figure out what exactly it is that I’ve been so preoccupied with that’s trumps writing in terms of priorities. But wait! I’ve not tweeted, save a few pathetic retweets. The horror of being so removed from social media platforms, at my own will! Who am I?!

C’est la vie d’un college student with perfectionist tendencies and two jobs. Workaholic by day, Latin (salsa, merengue, bachata!) dancing and then some by night It’s like a glamorous double life sans the Loubies and Vuitton bag. Irrelevant, because deciding between Mahina leather and Damier canvas is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I’m learning Latin ballroom! Like Dirty Dancing and SYTYCD, only not. But I can now justify shopping for little tops and tissue-thin skirts and strappy for future runs at Latin clubs.

A picture showcasing vanity at it's finest (I oft use Photobooth to apply makeup, so photo ops are justified). But it also exhibits my attachment to my Filofax (it's filled with racy things, like when papers are due), and my outfit and lipstick du jour.

Speaking of clothing (which is, supposedly, the essence of this blog). In terms of personal style, I’ve been quite boring. Boring, but perfectly content with my uniform of choice. A skinny jean cuffed into an ankle-length pant, pumps and depending on the weather du jour, a tank, 3/4-sleeve sweater or some rendition of a transparent blouse. I adore a little vulgarity in dress. It keeps things alive and well and interesting. And, it’s what proper ladies do, you know.

Intuition tells me that all fashion capitals have had their respective Fashion Weeks. So in the spirit of it all, I’ve decided to literally embody the essence of being “fashionably late” with a preview of favorites: Agnès B, Mark Fast, Versace from what I can remember. Let’s not beat around the bush: I’m none too impressed this season…

Reviews to come. Eventually.

.   .   .

xx

spotted, at the steps of the met

Or in the ladies’ room, rather. No, not S., or B., or A. or C.

Moi!

A quick snap of my museum-going-outfit from Saturday, shot ever-so-professionally in the mirror of the ladies’ room while every stall was occupied (I’m shy about this picture-taking business!). I promise you those are not harem, drop-crotch pants – just a high-waisted, loose-fitting linen trouser:

I’m currently attempting to organize my notes and thoughts about the Alexander McQueen exhibit into a comprehendible review. It’s long, to say the least – I’ve had to extend my self-imposed deadline to a later time this evening.

In the interim is a preview of what’s to come (if you’re interested in my opinion, that is). Since no photographs were allowed, all I have to offer, unfortunately, are my horrid sketches and hastily written notes; my notebooks are always a pretty accurate reflection of how my mind words…

.   .   .

x

just because it’s national kissing day

Half of a pillowcase set by Miranda July. I’m a bit gutted that it was a limited edition design – but the crafty little vixen within has her mind set on DIY-ing her own rendition.

. . .

bises, extra kisses & maybe French ones too! xx

je suis excitée! (we’re talking about a versace for h&m collaboration, here)

I rarely get excited over collaborations or capsule collections of any sort. One, I can’t be bothered most of the time, and two, they’re brilliant marketing ploys I refuse to get sucked into. And three, well, I always seem to forget the launch dates because I either write everything in one big notebook or on haphazard Post-Its. It’s disorganized organization at it’s finest; inevitably, I manage to lose track of things along the way. Hence why I have a desperate need for a Mulberry agenda in my life. Or a Filofax. Polar opposites in price range, but still both are expensive in their own rights. The question is, however, whether or not organizing my life is worth the plunge…

Because it’s imperative I remember the release date of this particular one. Versace for H&M. I’m excited. Non.

Je suis excitée!

I love Versace. Donnatella Versace. I loved Gianni, too, but there’s something about a woman designing for the woman – she understands her. Given my love for all things sensuous and womanly, my French declaration is hardly unwarranted (pun intended). The one thing Versace always manages to do very, very, obscenely well (no pun intended) is sex. Or sex-y, rather. Dresses, party and otherwise, are oftenso sexy a man (or even yourself, if you’re in the mood) is torn between tearing that dress off then and there and simply staring in admiration of the wonders it does for your body.

I’m all about leaving clothes on though, if not for decency’s sake, then for (1) leaving more to the imagination, because doing so is the ultimate rule of proper coquetry, and (2) Versace is far too expensive to be torn in lustful fistfuls and left to lie in some heap on the floor.

And since Versace’s oh-so-sexy dresses are beyond reach of my grubby little fingers, it only makes sense that je suis excité and my need for a Filofax of sorts increases by tenfold. “For me this is an opportunity to show to a very very big audience what Versace has been and what Versace is now,” designer Donatella Versace said in a video announcing the collaboration.

H&M’s creative advisor, Margareta Van Den Bosch, says the collection will commemorate the fashion house’s most iconic pieces dating back to the ’80s, and will includes 40 women’s pieces, 20 men’s pieces and, of course, accessories.

The tribute to the past, however, is not to be misconstrued as simply a direct revival and nothing more. “As a designer I look at the future — I never look at the past, but being the sister of Gianni, the DNA is Versace and I’m going to use iconic Versace pieces of iconic Versace moments which are not exactly always the past but also the present,” Donatella said.

One piece from the H&M collection has already debuted on the runway; only a few days ago, Donatella wore a black leather mini embroidered with gold studs to close her men’s show in Milan.

The collection is set to hit 300 H&M stores on November 19. Mark your calendars, mes chéries!

. . .

bises! x

P.S.: Donnatella looks killer in the above photograph. Hair blown-out and dressed in head-to-toe black — cashmere turtleneck, leather leggings, gorgeous boots — and gold accessories? So classic.

{image & source via}

fitting room confessionals: i was lying when i said love at first sight didn’t exist

I don’t usually post photos for a few reasons: (1) I’m not particularly photogenic, (2) I feel a bit vain if I’m posing unless I’m with friends or actually at an event, (3) I have a regular digital camera (which I’m more than happy with) and (4) I’m very, very lazy. I’m also great at making excuses if you couldn’t tell already.

Most importantly, however, I wanted this blog to be about my writing. My perspective. Essentially: me, my brain, my ramblings and I – without me actually in it. I should hope that explanation reads as vaguely comprehensible; regardless, I’ve digressed yet again.

So. Welcome to the Fitting Room Confessions. Since my three-part “Defining Style” series, more of you have asked that I showcase a bit of my daily style (which is quite boring, to be honest. Writing about fashion is like a spectator sport for me: I watch, but won’t necessarily participate it its games) and for personal shopping tips. I succumbed – obviously. So here’s to documented shopping trips: deals, steals, how-to’s, and random shpiels…

I lied when I said love at first sight didn’t exist. Shall I re-tell this love story?

I was browsing (guess which store I was in!). Picking up things that caught my eye, combing through for my size, when I caught a glimpse of her silhouette. Grey. Loooong. Leather detailing. Lust? Or love? They say you can love who you trust, but without lust, there isn’t really love…

I’d like to think I have an eye and know myself well enough to not have to try on clothes, or debate over whether or not I like something enough to whip out the plastic. I’m the type of girl who knows exactly what she wants. I see it, I touch it, take a few blinks or so at the object in question, and I know whether or not it’ll suit me. (Actually, the deciding factor is the price tag; I refuse to set my heart on the impractical – shopping tip no. 1). Still, I prefer to try things on just to be sure – but that means I don’t try on things for frivolity’s sake. Shopping is strategic game, mes cheries. Play it smart.

Again, I digress. I have a point, and for brevity’s sake: I fell in love. Greys and blacks – my kind of palette. A modest neckline juxtaposed with a body-conscious silhouette (heart’s palpitating at this point). Curve-hugging can be classy; it need not be crude. Knee-length? Someone please tell me why we’ve forgone that, forsaking true sexiness for less-than-modest hemlines. My mindset is clearly still set back in that of the forties, fifties, and seventies fashions. Leather detailing and front panel – to modernize and add a bit of edginess to an otherwise classic, very feminine dress. Exposed zipper in the back. Sold. It’s safe to say that this dress is the epitome of my style.

Did I mention it fit exactly as I’d hoped?

It meant to be: it was the last one at H&M. H&M! At $34.95, it was an absolute bargain not just for the design and quality, but because Iloved it. Already I was conspiring ways to wear it every other day and dreaming of a closet stocked with dresses in the same silhouette. My knees go weak at the mention of bodycon, knee-length things.

I can’t believe I just waxed poetic about a dress. Well, not any dress. The dress! My dress.

Do you like my generic hand on hip pose? It seemed adequate – nothing too outrageous – and because I wanted to show off Revlon’s Craving Coral nail varnish – a bright red-coral that reads orange or pink depending on the lighting situation. So that polish plus a similar lipstick shade – NARS Jungle Red or MAC’s Lady Danger – topped with Three Custom Color Specialist’s Papaya Crush lipgloss would be my only accessories when wearing this dress. It’s all a statement dress needs, really. No jewelry, no fancy earrings (despite my penchant for anything large and bauble-y), nothing. Just siren red, killer black pumps and this dress. It was convenient that those were thing things I so happened to wear that day.

I suppose I’ll cheat and have this post double as an “Outfit of the Day”  because I wore it to work a few days later, coral-red lips and nails inclusive, and kept it on for running errands. Let’s just say it was a winner.

. . .

bises! x