Smell the Roses

Among the ever-growing list of things that I fall head-over-heels-for without hesitation (bows, hearts, polka dots, the color pink...) is roses. Perhaps it's partially ingrained in me thanks to my Persian heritage and an early fondness and relationship with roses and rose water? In any case, rose prints, colors, scents, and even flavors are constantly luring me in. Each year around Valentine's day, I take the opportunity to indulge in what is often a limited-edition fragrance from Diptyque. This years' Rosa Mundi selection is especially captivating! Pretty packaging and a luscious fragrance? I'll take two, (and I did: in the form of a candle and their roll-on fragrance, both picked up at Jeffrey). They say (whoever they are, I don't know, but they say it) that scent is the most most memorable of the senses. Floral scents remind me of my childhood, of the flower arrangements my mom would painstakingly arrange, of the mornings my dad spent gardening, of the Gardenia tree that grew next to my grandparents' home. Florals always make me nostalgic; they transport me to my happy place.


What are your favorite scents? What are your favorite memories associated with scent?


PS: If you're in NYC, maybe this is a good time to get familiar with Diptyque's sample sale? I've never been, but the thought of 90% off luxe candles and home fragrances is enough to reel me towards East 26th Street.

A Brief Digression From Fashion...

Once upon a time there was a girl who moved into a brand-spanking-new apartment in Williamsburg. There were exposed brick walls and 100-year-old original wood beams and industrial remnants from the masonry factory that once lived in the very same space. She lived a merry life with merry things and romanticized everything about her Brooklandia abode. That is, until one day, when she received a frantic phone-call from her neighbor, "The building is flooding! The building is flooding!" - all while she was stationed across the borough.



Fast forward: that girl was me, (obviously). When I finally rushed home and walked into my apartment, I found that it looked not unlike an NYC street after a short, but serious, downpour. My precious Chanel bag was soaked, the paint from my walls and ceiling were peeling back and ripping away from the walls, and raindrops literally streamed down through my roof. Thank god for a good insurance policy, (shout out to Mike at Travelers for making this otherwise headache-of-an-experience a relief). This past week I packed up the entirety (and trust me, I have a lot of things) of my apartment (an unfortunate necessity in trying to repair my floors) and moved myself across the East River and into a nice little hotel on the edge of Manhattan: The Standard.

A peak into my Standardized life, thus far... Yes, it's my own Eloise-meets-Kevin McCallister alternate reality all rolled into one.

The room, the view, and the cat that joined.

The welcome "home" drinks - The Standard's "Penny Drop" (deliciousness in a tumbler), the makeshift wardrobe.

The in-room entertainment, the downstairs beer garden.

The neighbors! Jeffrey's NYC: A giant Louboutin 20th Birthday Cake, Prada's SS12 Flame Heels

 
Chanel's new summer polish colors in Attraction, Frisson, and  Tentation. Plus, a Franca-as-Madonna's-doppleganger moment on the cover of Industrie. 

Kate the Great!!!

Flowers from a bodega ($10 for 2 dozen) for my room and a gluten free crepe from Bar Suzette, located inside the neighborhood Chelsea Market.

Spring lurking around the corner...!

 
Pretty new things from Topshop: Lace & Perspex flats and a new bug necklace.

 
Bullet ring gift from Plukka; The Highline down below.

A couple things about The Standard: it's located in the most amazing below-14th (thank god) location, situated (literally) on top of The Highline, there are amazing views, and the service has been impeccable from the moment I arrived. For a small fee, I was even allowed to bring my cat with me, (though admittedly, this got a few stares upon check-in... But would you leave your cat in a kennel for 2+ weeks?)

I won't lie, now that the headache of hastily packing my life into boxes is a few days into the past, I'm quite enjoying the staycation. And the moral of the story? Get home insurance!! I can't imagine where I'd be in this process without it.

A Love Letter to Chris Benz, (Again)

I love, love, love Chris Benz's work. I've talked about my adoration for the pink-haired ingenue in the past, but each season, my heart grows fonder. I love his collections for being so multilayered and full of depth, color, texture - a palette that is absolutely not lacking in diversity. Dripping with sequins, beading, brocade, lamé, a rainbow of color, crazy-innovative gloves, and cloud-like jockey caps (and I'm sure there's a technical name for these, but my Dictionary of Fashion is stowed away in a storage unit in Newark... more on this later), I pretty much found myself dying for the holidays all over again. I've only just barely recovered from the last holiday season (can you believe it's not even been two months?) and here I am, waiting for a reason to walk out the door in a frock covered in pailettes, as if I ever need a reason...

It's been interesting to observe the transitions in fashion over the last three years, ever since our economy took a turn for the worse. Immediately after the recession hit clothes became a bit more rigid, conservative, tailored, and minimal; it was a shift that was incredibly visible on the runways and highly documented. Our economy is far from recovered, but perhaps the shifts in fashion back towards opulence and grandeur and embellishment are an indicator of our attitudes towards the economy? Are we becoming more comfortable? More at ease to step out in fashion full of flamboyance and life because we're adjusted to the initial shock of our down-turned economy? If there were ever rules, are we "allowed" to have fun with fashion, again? Just a thought...

Erickson Beamon's Midnight in Paris

A vaudevillian cabaret, a flapper, a 1920's courtesan,a bottle of moonshine, and a bag of crystal all walk into a prohibition-era speakeasy... Badum, bum. But actually, really, genuinely, I think I want to live inside the warm, glowy, nostalgic world that I was transported into during Erickson Beamon's presentation. It was Midnight in Paris, it was golden age New York City, it was jazzy Boulevard de Saint-Germain... basically everything I long for. And the jewelry? Flawless.

"No One Wants to Kiss a Girl in Black"

Is anyone else as obsessed with Downton Abbey as I am? PBS has done an incredible thing by importing this show to America, and I think early-20th century North Yorkshire inspired fashion is going to be an ongoing trend this fashion week season, at least I certainly hope so. I mean, is it even at all possible to sit through Downton Abbey without (very intensely) wishing you could steal the entirety of Mary Crawley's wardrobe? (I also wish for the Dowager Countess' incredible collection of hats, but that's another point, and blog post, entirely.)
Without a doubt, Tadashi Shoji's FW12 collection could, indeed, outfit the entire Downton estate for an afternoon tea, flower show, or dinner party fit for a visit from a Turkish Embassy Attaché.



 


PS, definitely thought of my loves Abby Gardner & Elana Fishman while watching/writing/reading this.
PPS, since Tadashi Shoji is also one of the few NYFW designers to offer plus sizes, I'm super anxious to see what gets bought (& worn) this fall!