Today in bar prep, I have been “furiously” reviewing Criminal Procedure. All the terminology stirs the imagination towards gangster movies. “Terry” frisks? Search and Seizures? Warrant based off an anonymous tip? You gotta be kiddin me… I got my rights!
You know the Hollywood schmaltz.
In the fervor of the period, here’s today’s selection from my very own rotating crap game. Don’t ask questions. After all, you know the score, kid.
Outfit Details: Cloche: Merona | Scarf: Liberty London | Lipstick: Chanel | Velvet Coat: Vintage | Frock: Theory | Belt: Souvenir from Budapest | Watch: Vintage | Shoes: Vigevano (Fun Fact: Vigevano actually produced the first rubber soled tennis shoes in the 1920s)
At this stage in the game, I’m trying to decide how to get all my stuff home, and I must say it remains a very open question. My shoe collection at school seems to have doubled since I’ve gotten here. It started very practical, and frankly, it’s just bloomed (but in the best of ways)!
However, I bring you this dualist’s dream, this virtual shoe arc as part of the Harvey Nichols giveaway. Until April 30th, you can twitter or instagram a picture of your shoe collection (or part of it) for a chance to win 500 POUNDS (so many dollaz) AND a pair of heels part of the new Mary Katrantzou x Gianvito Rossi fab collab. Be sure to add @mary katrantzou @harveynichols and @marykatrantshoe to your entry.
Comment on this, if you want with a link, because I want to see your closet! Also, the fuzzy pink and the purple shoes are for sale in my vinted/ posh closets!
Today I read a fascinating article in NY Mag (that bastion of culture) about normcore. Normcore? You know, the latest trend that has everyone dressing like 24/7 sports fanatics, ignorant tourists, and male adolescents. Throw on a white shirt, whatever jeans are most readily available, and the now-pervasive Adidas sneakers that would have made you vomit like four months ago (that you hid when you had to play indoor soccer). You know, those illustrating the informed person’s response to all the contrived wannabees out there praying they walk down the street Bill Cunningham happens to frequent, Oscar Wilde’s millennial progeny, and those people who obviously can’t have a real job because if they did they would never have enough time to weld themselves together in the morning. Normcore to high fashion: we’re not pretending that haute couture is an effortless when it’s obvious to everyone it’s not (you’re probably wearing a Prada jacket). We don’t need the attention. We also happen to love Phoebe Philo.
Normcore:
I find this all disheartening and rather ironic. Yes, normcore, you are now representing what is really “street style.” When I walk across campus this Winter, I am doing well to see someone who isn’t in knee length boots, jeans and a neutral jacket. Now, I am on a relentless search to find someone who doesn’t look like Nike’s next poster child any given Wednesday. On a similar note, I can appreciate Phoebe Philo like the rest of them and have nothing against comfortable, well-tailored clothing. But as I am constantly reminded that as a future lawyer I will need to confine myself to a neutral palate of revolving suits, I am inwardly disgusted. I also wonder in part if this Philo-esque appeal to homogeneity is a woman version of the grey flannel suit. It’s like if we contrive ourselves, or show individuality we can’t be taken seriously. I may be reading the situation wrong, but I don’t like that outcome. While I agree that clothing doesn’t make the woman (or give her power), I’d prefer AKRIS to Celine because I can have confidence to look like more than the carbon copy of the contents in the next cubicle.
I was talking to an aspiring architect the other day and I asked him why we should care what our buildings look like. He said What we create reflects the pride we take in ourselves as people. While I may not be totally on board with that rationale for buildings, I do think that my fashion sentiments lean in that direction. The whole contrived aspect of high fashion and NY street style does sometimes give me acid reflux. In a sense, I think fashion should feel effortless, because it is. Some people will still feel contrived because our imaginations are fearsome and wonderful factories of ingenuity. So yes, for those of you with no imagination or cares, normcore is probably just your style. But for those painstakingly attempting to look normal (and at such high prices?!?), you are nothing more than a troll.
We’re not all Isabella Blow or the Marchesa, Luisa de Casati, but we love them nonetheless because they were who they were. Yes, if they dressed normal it would be a fashion statement in itself, but I think everyone would be decidedly underwhelmed, not to mention bored. If the contrived aspects of fashion are being overdone, yes, there is no reason not to retreat to a more minimalistic approach, but normcore seems less like a creation and more like a bedraggled critique.
Oh Marchesa, you kill me.
After G. K. Chesterton published Heretics, the Catholic church told him (basically): “Great. You’ve told us what’s wrong with the Catholic Church. So does everyone. It’s a lot harder to actually fix the problems.” In response, Chesterton published Orthodoxy, which laid out his solutions to the issues he originally championed. You can take that as moralistic, or just recognize that ol’ G. K. was a BAMF (for more see here). So in efforts to practice what I preach, I must admit that my latest ensemble (in preparation for The Grand Budapest Hotel) was nowhere in the vicinity of normcore. And like that noble edifice, probably far too decadent to survive in modern times.
Hat / necklace / gloves / earrings: Antiquing
Faux fur cape: Estate Sale
Lipstick: Chanel Turtleneck: H&M Tweed skirt: See by Chloe Leggings (pulled down): Target Shoes: Lanvin
But just in case… I’ve made a polyvore collection of the crux of what I was wearing.
My loyal followers and fortuitous visitors! I have emerged from the depths, a happier Orpheus, bursting with song (and silent anxieties) since my brief (an edifice of law school’s vise and unsolicited grip round my throat), ripened, has relinquished my bonds!
Yet during this struggle, I have shown that I run the most miserable attempt of a fashion blog, seeing as I left the grid just long enough for both Fashion Week 2014 AND the Oscars to pass me by. Let’s just say I’ve been cogitating.
I mean is anyone really sure how they feel about Chanel’s grocery store?
Once I get past wanting every piece of uniquely-punned Chanel merchandise, the high culture/ low culture/ ubiquity of human experience really starts to play with me. Also, while Karl Lagerfield may think that one should wear Haute couture as if you were “going to the supermarket.” There seems to be some speculation as to whether he even knows what that is like… For more on the show see here.
Moving right along McDonalds at Moschino…
Well, I can tell you it clearly WASN’T a whopper. Jeremy Scott’s bold choices are nothing more than a clever ploy aimed at expanding his market. But you can’t go from selling to the 1% overnight. While they may not have made it quite to the billion marker yet, Business Week reports they’ve managed to borrow quite a few.
It came as a great surprise to absolutely no one that my favorite from fashion week was none other than…
Burberry.
Come on, it featured the Bloomsbury bag. Unfortunately, the real advertisements were lost in a ill-fated file backup. Luckily, Burberry sent us one of the promos before the crash and revisions. Here’s how it was supposed to be modeled:
Pretty great, huh?
Regarding the collection, I love the mix of Monet hues with the Scottish-looking shoulder throw rugs. Tuck your blanket into your belt for a practical and fashionable snowy day. Particularly, I love the color scheme because it is so conventionally Spring, but somewhere in the midst of Labor Day I think that people forget what snow looks like.
Maybe we favor dark colors in Winter because we’re afraid we will be lost in the snow otherwise, but when I look outside across snow colored fields, the color is remarkably subdued. In the sunless places, peoples eyes are pastel blue and Burberry’s color scheme seems to recognize that. At the same time you can be the wisp of a figure trekking across the moor with your caftan, you can sit inside with it wrapped around you, watching the snow fall as you drink tea over light stories with shadowy undertones. Bravo Burberry. I think this collection really channeled that for me. While Chanel channeled its roots with requisite tweeds and pearls, Burberry’s approach was subtler. The Bloomsbury Set wrote in the time around World War I burst with all its dreary determinism, giving us if nothing else, the Trench coat. It’s nice to see Burberry hearken back with a new interpretation of the period piece.
More to come on Fashion Week, the Oscars, post offices, and more!
I’ve. just. discovered. Heaven Polyvore. I feel like Nicola Tesla is lurking in a corner somewhere, hand outstretched, saying “Welcome to the Future, Rebecca.” Things are about to get a whole lot more sophisticated here y’all! On the downside, it may also be the most constructive procrastination I’ve encountered: fashion, scrapbooking, and unlimited supplies all in one! Just when I was getting over ebay…
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Above is my second ever collage (you might see the first one later… or I might banish it to the abyss of the internets). Now, generally I am SO cynical when it comes to buying designer sweatshirts. People argue the fabrics are so much better and they last so much longer, but I have yet to see one of the $8 Michaels craft sweatshirts eat it. In fact, sweatshirts seem to always be cropping up like ice on Indiana pavements…. I do not need to pay anything over $50 to get a sturdy sweatshirt (and that figure is allowing generously for the overpriced sports team paraphernalia).
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That is until I saw the adorable Marni Penguin Sweatshirt/ Blouse this compilation revolves around. I have long enjoyed the penguin sweater, but I thought it was a flippant kind of fancy almost like relish on a hotdog or a summer toe ring. I don’t own one of these gems, but suddenly, something very deep inside me seems to be crying out (in a still small voice) “Rebecca! What have you been working as a coat check girl for?” It’s like The Little Prince and East o’ the Sun, West o’ the Moon, and Mr. Popper’s Penguins’ artistic lovechild. I can feel le renard begging once again Apprivoisé moi!but through the ransacked voice of a surprised penguin(as long as it’s not the Happy Feet penguin it will be okay). Am I a sentimental fool? What sweatshirt (if any) would you splurge on?
We like the penguin sweater, and Jess does too.
It’s been a while since I’ve used this rating system, but I’m bringing it back:
All hands on deck! As Spring draws nearer, I’ve basically scoured Net-a-Porter to bring to you all things striped and vaguely nautical. I epically failed at providing a variety of price points, but at least you have the look, and can go forth expanding and contracting as you see fit!
But seriously, along with flapper, hippie, and gypsy, I think there’s some serious sailor in my blood. Especially if it means being near anyone that looks like Peter O’Toole.
—–> —–> —–> (Those Eyes!)
In the meantime, I will resign myself to dreams of St. Augustine and sun-bleached hair on rolling sands. And to make it a reality, I might just have to splurge on a certain Chloe sweater… someday.
At some point in any successful high school / undergraduate experience, that kid that you know — the one that always takes things a little too far, drinks way too much, or happens to be obsessed with Roman culture — will get it into his head that he is going to throw the party to end all parties. Five kegs, a blow up swimming pool, a person in a one of those creepy horse masks, the promises get wilder and wilder. But before it actually comes time for the party, in a sudden burst of inspiration, you get the call.
“Hey, we’re making it a toga party. It’s gonna be awesome.” *Click*
On the memorable night of, before the debauchery, the Animal House carousing, and the mistakes you still can’t remember, you strip down your bed and take the one straight sheet you own (although there’s always the one person who inevitably shows up in a fitted sheet… because they are so creative) to the mirror. The biggest challenge of the toga party isn’t to see who can drink the most or who can keep standing the longest. The greatest challenge is a feat of cleverness, safety pins, and carefully placed knots.
How do you drape a shapeless piece of fabric around you and look cool without flashing anyone? (It is only later that you ask yourself how to avoid the guy whose falling toga is falling down to reveal a map of moles across his back to shame Rand McNally.)
In his latest collection, Thakoon seems to have dipped into this nostalgia. As much as I enjoy the asymmetry, unique draping, and carefully placed knots, his pre-fall collection makes me reminisce of my college days. Did he too just take a piece of cloth and wrap it around until it made a socially acceptable shape that covered all private parts? Let me know what you think. In the meantime, I’ve delved into the files to find some old gems for your enjoyment.
As Valentines looms ever nearer, and I make bedroom eyes towards the bag of Ghiradelli milk chocolate caramel squares in Target, it seems like an appropriate time to revisit the topic of underwear (here‘s the first installment in case you missed it). When channeling the spirit of Valentines day, my first thoughts would be: over-commercialized, brash colors, and a gaudy representation of love. But as this post is decidedly not about Victoria’s Secret, I’m going to have to dig a little deeper.
True Love…
If I’m less cynical, I have to admit, Valentine’s day can be an excuse for romantic thrills, some saccharine frills, but altogether sentimental feels. Which is why for this Valentines, as an alternative to VS, you should consider Les Jupons de Tess.
Mais Oui! Photos from the Spring/ Summer 2014 Collection
Deliciously frilly and decidedly French, this lingerie makes for a eventful evening and a long morning. Caroline Tannous, the lace mastermind behind the label, in an interview with Journelle described the philosophy behind the brand, “We’re a luxe French lingerie label inspired by the elegance of the 18th-century woman. We design glamorous corsetry and lingerie for a woman who, depending on her mood, wants to be flirtatious, seductive or mischievous.” What could be more perfect for Valentines… Underwear as versatile as Russell Stover (since sometimes you have no idea what you’re channeling… or eating).
You just never know…
Still, what’s even more exciting about Les Jupons de Tess is that the one and only Petite Coquette (of Petite Coquette, that paragon of all things intimate, aka my favorite lingerie blogger) has designed a collection to premiere in their stores September 2014. Here’s a peak (and above):
J’adore.
Two weeks ago, at the Salon de la Lingerie, his top and knickers were chosen for the Selection Catwalk (season favorites). Bravo Coquette! We’ll certainly be on the lookout for you.
For everyone else, have a Happy Valentines/ Single Awareness day. Whatever you’re celebrating, may your lingerie be divine.
Last week, bargain shopping nearly got the best of me. I was searching for shoes on Vinted, a clothing re-sale app, and I came across a pair of $100 Louboutins (for those of you who have never heard of this brand, Louboutins usually start at about $625 and are the ones with red bottoms). It seemed too good to be true. They looked like the D’Orsay style, there was little wear, and that price! The seller couldn’t verify the authenticity, but they had the red bottoms, and I had never heard of people faking shoes, so it seemed worth the risk. Still, I hate to buy something without attempting to talk the price down, so I settled on $85.00.
The Real Deal
$85.00 for a pair of gently used Louboutins. Looking like Irene Adler was within my grasp! But in the midst of finagling to get the price changed, I informed my all-too-frugal boyfriend about this spectacular find. In a dizzying and terrible two minutes, I found out people did fake shoes, and that there was a good possibility these were fake too.
What I learned:
1) They do make fake Louboutins.
2) They are incredibly hard to spot over the internet.
Some ways to tell are:
– Authentic: If they include an authenticity card, they are FAKE. Louboutins don’t come with authenticity cards. Ever.
– Space Jam: Look at the “Made in Italy” on the bottom. Make sure it has spaces between the words. Fakes will say MADEINITALY.
– Know your reds: For me I think this is the most difficult, especially since internet pictures have such varying color gradients. People describe Louboutin red as “true red.” That tells me nothing, but I guess you can make sure you aren’t buying anything scarlet or merlot.
– Check your quality: Fakes aren’t going to look or feel as well made. This can mean little things from the leather not being uniform with the sole where it’s tucked in to the back seam being folded over instead of being sewn straight up, both of which are signs of fakes.
– Boxing champ: Fakes will have boxes that might say Christian Louboutin in much larger script and the Paris could be in the side corner rather than nearer the script.
-Memorize Scripture: On the bottom of real Louboutins the C in “Christian” almost touches the h. Fakes provide themselves with a bit more space between the letters.
– Ridges: Louboutin’s don’t have ridges on the bottom. The quality helps you walk. You don’t ned anything else
– Zip stocked bag: A box with plastic baggied heel tips does not Louboutins make! You should receive heel tips, but they won’t have the plastic bag.
Please note that I have not owned either real or fake Louboutins, but my advice here is a conglomeration of information repeated on other sites. For more info with pictures check out: Lollipuff, Galfromdownunder, Louboutin Resource and Muziklover70’s description.
Derp. Which looks real?
At this point you have your information. For some of you—it should be all of you— that may be enough, and the ridiculous and unsolicited bad advice to ensue is totally unnecessary. The rest of this post will not help in your shoe authenticating ventures. Really, it’s the author’s unneeded self-indulgence, and you should not read on.
I’m sorry to report that a thorough investigation into these fakes mixed with both criminal law and property class this semester has started me thinking about how to dupe the system. Regardless of all the advice, good fakes can be hard to spot. At the beginning of this post, I attached a video of LanaIndiana, modern day Zsa Zsa, recounting the horrific tale of her fake shoe encounter. In all the posts I read people kept saying, “the only way you know you have real Louboutins is by buying them from an authentic seller” a.k.a. Sacks, Neiman, Barneys, Bergdorf. But what if these stores don’t know that someone has planted a fake in their shoe aisle? I bet in some of the bigger chains it happens more than you might suspect, especially after Christmas sales and the after big markdown blowouts. This year in Dillards, I saw where a lady had left her boots and walked out with a pair of theirs. So what happens when, like Indiana Zsa Zsa, you buy a pair of fakes from a brand name store? Are the people behind the counter stopping it? Are they even trained?
The title of this post is based on the 1966 William Wyler film of the same name, starring Audrey Hepburn and Peter O’Toole. It’s one of my favorite movies, and the premise is the idea of stealing your own expensive stuff because you know it’s fake.
That’s exactly what I propose to do. Let me go ahead and disclaim. I am not actually suggesting that anyone do this. It just seems so easy… If I wanted a pair of Louboutins, had a high credit limit, and was ruthless and crafty in my methods to acquire a pair. The cheapest option would seem to begin by scoping out the fake market until I found some reasonably-priced fakes that would take a second glance and identifying a few styles of interest. At that point, I would check the return policies on Louboutin-carrying stores, making sure to pick one that gave me a while to return and the possibility to get more than store credit.
At this point, I’d go to that store and buy a pair of real Louboutins that I knew had a positive corresponding fake, and charge it, please. Once I got home, I’d order a pair of corresponding fakes with a shipping time that would allow me to return and get new ones, just in case.
When the fakes arrived, I would put them in the Louboutin box (transferring all store stickers with the help of a hair dryer) and leave everything else as is. I would then return to the store. From here there are two options. Originally, my plan was to go to the store and say something like “I bought these, but they don’t seem like the other Loubs I have at home; I think they might be fake”… and basically wait around for the refund to my credit card. After all, I’d have the receipt. However, when I conferred with the boyfriend, he thought that method would be too incriminating and suggested to instead play the fool. In this scenario, upon return instead of admitting I knew they were fakes, I would simply act like I would in any other return. I bought the item, it didn’t fit right, it was a lot to spend on something I didn’t love, they were uncomfortable, who cares — to get the 1,000 back. If someone made a fuss, I would wave my receipt and ask why I paid that much for these shoes. On what basis would a store not return my money if they weren’t sure I didn’t buy counterfeit shoes? While I wouldn’t try it multiple times, it seems like something you could get away with once.
By publishing this scenario, I am not suggesting that anyone try this. I do not support fakes and would not take the chance on buying or wearing them even in the face of a good deal (as described in my initial story). I just wonder how our institutions are situated to prevent this abuse, especially when it only takes one bad pair and one shoddy sales clerk to sell you bad shoes like LanaIndiana above. How do stores train employees? And how do stores distinguish when and when not to refund? I feel like my above scenario is pretty foolproof, but I’ve never worked in retail. Let me know what you think or if you see any problems… I’d love to get a conversation going!
And remember when you deal with Louboutin fakes, THIS could happen to you.
Earlier this week, I belatedly discussed the The Row’s contribution to age diversification in this Fall’s Look Book. The powers that be immediately responded, pulling out all the stops to deliver us two delicious pieces of news in the way of diversification this week (and all in direct reply to my suggestions blog post!).
1. The cover of Australia’s Cosmo was graced by its first, its own home grown plus size model Robyn Lawley. And you know what? It didn’t say anywhere that she’s a plus size model. She’s just another sexy woman on the cover.
Among Lawley’s resume is the cover Vogue Italia and French Elle. She is also the first plus size model to have graced the pages of Vogue Australia. In a Daily Mail article she spoke out about her distaste for the ever-growing “thigh gap” obsession inspired by Cara Delevingne (I included a link to the article for those of you who are lost as to what I’m talking about). Looking luscious on the cover, she gives some good evidence that it takes more than a thigh gap to make it.
Her jaw-dropping Vogue sweep.
2. Barney’s released their Spring 2014 Campaign, entitled “Brothers, Sisters, Sons & Daughters.”
Upon sight, it may not look any different than any other fancy photo shoot. However, the ad campaign manager (and former creative director of W), Dennis Freedman describes its unique inspiration, I was exquisitely aware that in the last decade, the L.G.B. communities have made extraordinary advances, and the transgender community has not shared in that progress.”
That’s right. The campaign is composed of 20 transgender models of all ages, colors, and socioeconomic statuses. Check out their photos, shot by All-American photographer Bruce Weber here.
As an aside, one thing I was not so keen on was Arin Andrews holding a football in the picture above. It seems kind of a hackneyed way to say, “Hey! I’m a boy!” Not to mention, it’s a direct contrast to model, Ryley Pogensky’s statement in the catalog,: “What is between my legs is not thoroughly who I am. If gender is black and white, I’m gray.” Fashion may create and explore the bounds between gender norms, but that football isn’t doing the ideology any favors.
So after seeing these two headlines, which do you think is the more expansive move to the fashion industry today? On the one hand, while transgender models are rarely photographed, even rarer is the sight of the curvaceous, bodacious lady. While each of the models’ bodies in the Barney’s ad is a source of controversy, they seem to fit into the lineup as far as size is concerned. For that reason, I’m more inclined to be excited about a plus size model on the front of Cosmo. I admit it’s a purely selfish reason, but I like to see ladies with breasts BESIDES Christina represented every once in a while.
Not that I’m complaining.
Still, if Lawley is the ONLY plus size model getting the limelight, maybe it’s not such a progressive and laudable thing after all. Besides, should we kowtow every time more than one body size is shown? Maybe it’s counterintuitive to even put one interest over the other. Does designating one of the other belittle them both? Should we instead usher in these changes with open arms all hailing the name of progress? Please let me know which issue you think is more important. I’m very interested to know your feedback. Seriously CAN WE GET A COMMENT IN THE HOUSE Y’ALL?
![animal-house-posters[1]](https://callingtheclothesline.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/animal-house-posters1.jpg?w=620)
The Clothesline 