Time for Tea

The first time I heard of the elusive Azzedine Alaïa was in Clueless.  Cher Horowitz was mugged while wearing one of his signature designs--a vermillion snug party dress.  His designs are immediately recognizable and I love how he toys with primarily two looks--a fitted body-con style and a nipped waist, full-skirted  pouf shape.

The disciplined designs are contrasted with A.A.'s rebellious business style.  He has no website, only smattering of shops and never shows his collection to the public.  A W Magazine editor told over tarte de pomme in Paris that the designer refuses to conform to the conventional fashion schedule--much to the chagrin of the media.  Perhaps when you are this genius calendars are below you.  

This look is certainly implies so.  From the leathery material, the jaunty pockets and the fetish platforms...in the words of Rachel Zoe, "I die."

I wrote in an article last year about the importance of finding your signature silhouette. The shape and cut that serves as your fashion armor and always flatters. 

This is mine.

Let's call it the tea cup.

Wardrobe Recolletions

Sometimes the best looks already lurk in your own closet.  While I love investing in new pieces, this time of year I like to experiment with old favourites.  Call it fashion comfort food.

Here is a shot from a fashion spread I styled this summer.  The plaid dress on my sister Sophie and the jacket on my dear Ramy are both H&M.  But for his Ernest Sewn jeans and her Holt Renfrew hat, everything else is vintage.  

These items tend to become markers of experiences and travel.

par example:

The shredded lining of the preparatory blazer are testament to my love of this staple.  I picked it up at a charity shop in Gramercy Park when I was studying in New York City. It was the same price as a settee that I upholstered in houndstooth.  It elevates everything I pair it with.  No coincidence--or perhaps an embarrassment--that when ELLE and FASHION have photographed me I was wearing it.  

The belt is vintage Escada.  I picture some fabulously eurotrashy lady like Ivana Trump wearing it in the 80's with a power suit.  Au contraire, here it susses-up casual tartan.  I have such fond memories of a night spent dining atop the Centre Pompidou and frolicking down Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré at 3am gazing at the window displays of legendary designers.  I wore this belt with a white bubble mini, black leather jacket and patent booties.  Paris demands a cinched waistline.

On one of my mother's biannual trips to the City of Light, she bought me this saucy red snakeskin clutch at the market.  It comes from Africa and the skin is so luxuriously scaly. Merci beaucoup, Mama.

I met one of my very best friend's when I was 11 years old in Sweden.  We were there for a special international summer camp, each representing our respective nations--me from Canada and she from Brazil.  We remained in contact (impressive considering the lack of email at the time) and have visited each other numerous times.  I have fallen in love with Brazil.  The beaches, the food, the family and a couple boys.  Oh, and the shoes.  Oh the shoes!  There is a mod boutique called Arezzo in a leafy neighborhood where I found these forest green ankle strap heels.  Muito chic.

This entry is apologetically long, but that's what happens when one strolls down fashion memory lane...  

  As I type this, my wrists are decked with bangles, bracelets and red Kabbalah strings acquired during a recent trip to Israel.  

See what I mean?

Paper Dolls

Karl Lagerfeld presented his haute couture collection  for Chanel in Paris yesterday.  The theme was papier and each model's hair was adorned with hand-crafted fleurs.  The fragility of the material was beautifully delicate yet hypermodern.  The details of each creation are astounding.  I once watched a french documentary on the atelier of Chanel.  The seamstress are all quirky femmes d'une certain age.  Before a collection debut, they work all night long.  A small television broadcasts the fashion show so they may watch their blood, sweat and tears promenade down the runway.  

There is a blizzard out my window.

Thank god for fashion.

Horsey Set

An older photo of Princess Charlotte Casigrahi and a fellow riding mate.  Sartorially speaking, the equestrian look can be easily emulated.  Seamed leggings, spiffy boots, a sharp wool or tweed blazer and scarf tied just so.  It's pedigree minus the equus boarding fees.

Poor Little Rich Girl

If it's wrong to swath myself in fur during a recession then I don't want to be right.

A self-righteous dweeb in desperate need of a cause recently chided me for my coyote vest.

"Why would you wear that?" he interrogated.

"Because I simply love animals." I replied, sauntering off to the dance floor.

Sofia Coppola is also an animal lover.  

This uptown ensemble is simple and soigné.  An elegant mix of black and chestnut worn with the classic Coppola nonchalance.  Love how people who were born into privilege do subdued luxury.

  

Ring Me Up

Coco Chanel sports a stack of rings. An gaggle of bands artfully arranged on fingers is fresh. Or go the full-on armor route comme K. Lagerfeld. Layering adds a personal touch and gives all hand gestures glinty exclamation.

Winter White

Nico looks every part the urban equestrian in winter white denim.  Pairing pale with brown and grey is a smart move during the winter months.  Goes brilliantly with her sooty blonde hair.  I'd add a fur collar to further the Town & Country appeal.