That title was chosen cause I really hate it when people say “_____ is the new Black”.
Like, seriously, can we just give that up already.
Citizens of Fashionville find comfort in black.
A default of designers like Michael Kors, who only wears black tees and jackets, Vera Wang, who’s insistant on black slip dresses and leggings, Carine Roitfeld, who dresses like an angel of death with a Black Card, and Karl Lagerfeld, who’s worn a black sports coat and denim since the 70s, not to mention Nicola Formecheti, Alber Elbaz, and Donna Karen, who seem devoid of color in their approach to personal style. It’s almost as if these creative-types are too busy working on collections to be concerned with dressing outside of their uniforms.
PRs are especially guilty of black on black crimes.
Mostly colorless, these women (and very rarely, yet I hear it happens, men) can only be visable by the shine of their iPads and glimmer on their earpieces during Fashion Week. I’ve literally walked into The Theatre at Lincoln Center (the big tent) before a fashion show, thinking there was only one PR in the room, a queen bee from HL Group or Linda Gaunt spotted on the runway, only to realize minutes later that the perimeter of the space was dotted with dutiful PRs, standing room ninjas, seating snipers, hiding in the shadows, ready to swipe in and kick my ass out of a seat reserved for the editor of nothing that really matters to me.
I’ve taken a cue from these creative and organizational greats, figuring that if I simplified my wardrobe to one such absence of color, I might find a bit more clarity in my work, undistracted, able to conjure up genius and inspire it in those I collaborate with, also, I was having a fat day, so that kind of led to this look:
Black, clean, with a bit of a pop of color.
If you’re wondering what’s happening with my outfit, it’s actually a Vince dress worn over a pair of leggings from C And C California. It’s been below zero in NYC and tights just don’t cut it. I’ve been quite addicted to these booties from Belle by Sigerson (currently 70% off), I literally wear them daily, and I don’t go anywhere without my Reed Krakoff bag (currently on major sale, those bastards), it’s the perfect color to brighten a look and it’s really become my own little statement, as I believe I’m the only blogger I’ve seen who carries one. I paired the blacks with a shearling jacket and accessories by Alexander McQueen (a ring I picked up during my last visit to the Bal Harbour Shops) and a necklace by Lulu Frost.
Basically, I’m totally being a default fashionite.
All black, possible pop of color, coffee from anywhere but Starbucks.
Lately, I’m attempting to be photographed paparazzi-style, this way the images are a bit less deliberate. Plus, I’m getting ready for future fame whoring, in which I constantly prepare for a crowd of annoying snap happy dudes who I can pretend to not care about all while striking a pose, and keeping TMZ on speed dial. A girl can dream can’t she.
If you’re wondering why my skin is so glowy, I swear it’s not photoshop, it’s actually due to a recent discovery in skincare.
Last week, Barney’s invited me to experience a Mila Moursi facial. In case you don’t know who she is, Jennifer Aniston swears by her gentle touch and can’t live without her products, and considering that Aniston looks pretty damn awesome, I’m a convert. Mila’s line of beauty products is available at Barney’s New York, so be sure to look for it on your next visit or online.
At the facial appointment, I instantly fell in love with Mila, who’s French and so friendly, a very kind and warm spirit, the types of people I gravitate to. We discussed life in the digital fast lane and made plans to reconvene at her Hollywood spa after Fashion Week.
I can’t wait to see her celebrity haven and get pampered like I may have Oscar-potential someday, de la Renta that is…
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