Posts tagged ‘new york’
The Art of the Stack + a Giveaway!
The other day I received an email from a friend inquiring about the how-to’s of piling on an absurd amount of bracelets. He was asking for his wife, who just wasn’t quite sure how to build what I call The Stack and still have it look cool. This of course got me thinking since up until that point I’d never really considered the process of stacking. While I thought I was a grab and go type of girl, I discovered that I actually have somewhat of a routine when piling on the jewels. In light that some of you may too be wondering how to create your own stack, here’s my breakdown along with a Beso Beso bracelet GIVEAWAY to get you started! Boom-shaka-laka-bang-boom!
But before I tell you about the giveaway, I’m going to make you wait patiently like a child forced to eat breakfast before opening presents on Christmas. So first, let’s talk stacking.
Catbird arrow cuff | other two bracelets are unknown designers
I like to start small. This includes the thinner, more dainty bracelets in your collection. Normally I try to stick to one metal, but it’s rare that it stays that way once I start building.
Odette cuff | Catbird arrow cuff | BaubleBar panther bracelet | Hermes cuff | Giles & Brother cuff
Then I gradually get a little thicker with my selections. This is also a great opportunity to add in a mixture of colors, friendship bracelets, stones, and gems. Don’t be afraid to build the stack up your forearm. Though sweat and bracelet indentation can sometimes be an issue, I say the more the merrier.
Henri Bendel bracelet | Odette cuff | Catbird arrow cuff | BaubleBar panther bracelet | Hermes cuff | Giles & Brother cuff | Beso Beso cuff | Gypsies & Debutantes friendship bracelet
Once all the basics are down, you can really start playing with different sizes and textures. This is the pretty mindless part for me as it’s all about trial and error. If you’re at a loss of what to add, I highly recommend sticking to the same metal group and just adding a variety in shapes and sizes. Kind of like what I did with the multiple stacks in the gif below. And remember, Rome wasn’t built in a day, so don’t put too much pressure on your wrists.
And now the moment you’ve been waiting for: the Beso Beso giveaway!
Ain’t she a beaut?! Here’s how to enter:
2. Tell me you did so in the comments section below.
3. Tell me your favorite song of the summer!
Please note that this giveaway is available to US residents only. I’ll announce the winner winner chicken dinner on Friday, June 21st.
In the meantime, get your stacks started with some of my top bracelet picks below.
The Daily Scroll
I have this thing where I online shop. As a girl who works in fashion, this probably doesn’t sound all that ridiculous; but I can assure you, it is.
It’s not that I do a lot of online shopping in the sense that I buy everything I see — my bank account isn’t quite so accomodating — but I scroll. Oh, how I scroll. Multiple times each day I frequent my favorite sites — The Outnet, Asos, Net-a-Porter, Shopbop, Yoox, Topshop — just browsing. I click over to the “Just In” or “New In” section, hover my mouse over the “View All” button and watch as my browser loads a forever-scrolling stream of new clothing, shoes, and accessories for me to ogle.
I imagine that this is something a chef does in a high-end grocery store like Citarella. Maybe she doesn’t need anything, but simply enjoys the process of walking up and down the aisles taking mental notes on all the different types of pasta — orrecchiette, fusilli, tagliarini, fettuccini. Or maybe this idea of “just looking” is more like a birdwatcher who finds nothing more relaxing than sitting out in a meadow, binoculars in hand, waiting for sparrows, orioles, and bluebirds to let out a song or take flight. I’d hate to compare myself to a birdwatcher, they always seem a little strange to me, but maybe we’re not so different after all. We’re both not here to disturb. We’re “just looking.”
It begins around 9AM, after I’ve finished my morning workout routine and had my first few sips of poorly made coffee — an art I’m still trying to master. Then my fingers slide over my MacBook Pro’s sleek black keyboard. My right pointer finger draws down to swipe across the smooth silver mouse pad so I can click the circular Google Chrome application icon and begin my daily scroll.
I usually start with something like The Outnet, whose daily updates rarely exceed 100 new items. When I go to type its address, my computer is already well ahead of me, finishing the URL before I even hit the letter ‘h’. A few seconds later and I am into the scroll. Silk Equipment shirts. Bright Dolce & Gabbana bustiers. Strappy, 4-inch Jimmy Choo sandals. This. Is. Heaven. With just a bright screen and colorful spurts of ready-to-wear glowing before my tired eyes, I forget all that needs to be done that day. Instead I imagine how each piece, whether I like it or not, would fit into my wardrobe. Can I pull off an oversize leather vest? I wonder how Mother Denim would fit over my bubble butt. Holy Abraham! There’s that pair of towering, Frida Kahlo inspired Charlotte Olympia heels in my size. Glancing at the price, a hefty $494 down from $1,272, I hesitate for a moment. Is it worth it? Do I do it? Oh God, it’s so tempting. That’s 61% off (The Outnet told me that, I don’t do that kind of math). I can feel the saliva building in my mouth and my breath quickening like Wile E. Coyote eyeing The Road Runner. But no. No! My bank account can’t handle that. Don’t do it, Sonia. Keep scrolling. Just. Keep. Scrolling.
This kind of inner monologue repeats itself for about an hour, or until I come down from garment heaven and realize it’s time to officially start the day. Emails. Edits. Blogging. Meetings. Work is calling and it’s time to click out of this temptress browser. But like Facebook functions as the ultimate procrastination tool for high school and college students, I know it’s only a matter of one or two hours before I’m back online, torturing myself like a diabetic in Dylan’s Candy Store. Here is all this sartorial eye-candy, but thou shalt not feast upon it! And so my index finger and I continue our fast-paced scroll, making sure not to hover over anything for too long and give into temptation.
Neon in the Sixties
I have a long list of style icons. Jane Birkin, Bianca Jagger, Kate Moss, Audrey Hepburn, Brigitte Bardot, Jimi Hendrix, and so on and so forth. But never in my life have I looked at a photo of style legend, Jackie O and thought, “yes, I would like to dress like that.” Don’t worry, I can already feel your outrage through the computer from this previous statement, but this is an issue I need to address as I’m fairly certain my beliefs have changed.
Until recently, I’ve always found Jackie O’s style to be a little too stuffy for me. Turtlenecks, skirt suits, silk taffeta dresses complete with a bow — none of those really scream “Sonia”. Indeed, had I lived during her era I would have likely been seen in high-waisted flared jeans and a variety of ponchos giving too many peace signs while cruising around in my light pink Volkswagon Beetle. And while today I may still be seen wearing high-waisted flared jeans next to my friend’s newer Beetle model, I’m starting to think that the other side of the spectrum, a.k.a. Jackie O’s skirt suits, don’t sound all that bad. Cue the “you’re getting older” remarks.
I’ve been aware of my growing sartorial maturity over the past few months, but it was really brought to my attention when I visited Ted Baker a few weeks ago. Upon arrival in their three-story-and-then-some store, I B-lined for pastel pink tailored suits, cropped jackets, box pleat skirts, and even a head-to-toe flamingo print ensemble (yes, that exists; and yes, you should get it). I walked out of the store with a neon orange cropped jacket and a box pleat piano keyboard skirt (both of which you see here), thinking I’d nabbed the edgier pieces from the assortment I tried on. But then my friend Anna told me it was very “Jackie O.”
This conjured a visceral defensive remark from me. “Jackie O would never wear neon orange,” I said, confidence oozing out of me like a math whiz in AP Calculus. However, once I got over my initial and I admit, immature, response, I realized Jackie O very well could have worn neon orange had neon orange been considered a wearable color then. Indeed, I have no doubts that she would wear neon orange were she alive today — she did love color after all — and I can even imagine her wearing an outfit quite similar to this one from Ted Baker. Though lets be honest, she would have looked ten billion times more glamorous than me, complete with those signature oversize sunglasses.
So, getting back to the potentiality of Jackie O. being introduced to my list of “style icons,” I conclude that yes, she makes the cut. Will I reject the ripped up jeans and tattered tees in my closet? No. But let’s be real here, no one ever really saw what Jackie wore behind closed doors.
If I look cold it’s because I was.
This is me playing the piano on my piano keyboard skirt…just as an FYI
// photos by Emily Malan
A Fashionable High School Circus
Sound the bells! Blow the horns! Whip the heinies! (What?) Fashion Week starts today, officially making this the most stressful outfit week for everyone involved (except Anna Wintour, maybe). Indeed, this week — or should I say month — is as much about the outfits on the sidewalk as it is about the new collections on the runways. Actually, I’d say that the sidewalk is almost more chaotic simply because it’s that much more competitive. Designer’s collections at least have a scheduled spot for buyers, editors, and other fashion mongers to see their pieces, whereas the sidewalk is one big best dressed contest.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t let the street style photographers get to my head. When I walk up the steps of Lincoln Center I await the moment for someone to come tap on my shoulder asking if they can take a picture. It feels good to have a swarm of photographers snapping away at you; it’s a wordless ego boost. I can’t imagine that Emma Stone or the Olsens feel the same way, but that’s an everyday scenario they have to face, whereas this is my f*cking fifteen minutes and I’m going to own it.
However, while the camera huddle can be a big pat-on-the-back confidence booster, it can also make you feel like crap. There are definitely some days that the photographer huddle doesn’t swarm around me. After all, I’m not Beyonce so why should they? But when they don’t flock I panic and second guess myself for the most materialistic reasons. Suddenly I’m wondering why I didn’t go with the YSL heels that pinch my feet. Why I chose this particular pair of ripped jeans over the ones with a lighter wash. And for christ’s sake, why is that b*tch with the bunny ears getting her picture taken? Am I back in high school wondering why my crush chose Megan* over me? It certainly feels like it.
Truth be told, Fashion Week is a bit like high school, but with higher heels, fewer straight men, and hardly any puberty. And just like in high school, there are the popular kids, the weirdos, the quiet group, the rebels, and then there’s me. I never fit into a particular “crowd” in high school, though I got along with almost everyone and I guess you could say I ran with the more popular crew; but I’ve always marched to my own beat. (One made from a steel drum if you will.)
So, as I approach my twelfth fashion week season (hand me my cane and dentures, would ya?), I’m not going to give myself a pep talk in not letting the popularity contest get to my head. Nor am I going to vow to take the subway more often than a taxi. And I’m certainly not going to deny myself a fresh croissant from the Le Pain Quotidien so conveniently located by both Lincoln Center and Milk Studios. Because after twelve seasons of blisters, hangovers, cabbie fights, and more fashion candy than I can handle, it’s about time I take it for what it is: a joyride into the most impeccably dressed circus I’ll ever have the pleasure of attending.
And that’s about all I have to say on that.
*my crush didn’t actually choose a Megan over me, I just decided to go with that name.
When I was packing for San Francisco a few weeks ago, I threw these pants in at the last minute (literally, it was 5:15am and my limo driver was downstairs waiting for me) knowing that they didn’t really “go” with any of the other pieces I’d packed for my trip.
I’m a bit notorious for these last minute throw-ins, particularly when I have hardly any room left in my suitcase. When I was a little girl, these additions were in the form of stuffed animals, troll dolls, and maybe an extra set of plastic pearls. You know, the essentials. Today however, I’ve traded in my extra teddy bear for a random article of clothing or jewelry that has nothing to do with the other pieces I’ve planned so meticulously for over the past few days. And yet, without fail, these eleventh hour extras end up being the first thing I go to upon arrival.
Having no prepared outfit for these Clover Canyon pants ended up being a blessing, as it allowed me to mix-and-match my look without the shadow of a planned outfit hanging over me. I’d always imagined myself wearing these pants with a crisp white top, this oxblood blazer, and a pair of silver stilettos, but alas none of these pieces accompanied me on my trip to SF. So, with a “don’t match, don’t care” mindset, I put on all the pieces that I actually wanted to wear that day and much to my delight found the mismatched ensemble to be an unbeatable combo.