NY Love Story

Couldn't resist snapping Ms. Kate Lanphear as she walked away from our mini-encounter.  She was so sweet, gracious and beautiful. And those shoes...I die.

Click here for my NYFW coverage.

Have a lovely weekend.

xx

Bad Luck Charms

I am really sad here.  Sitting on the loo tending to my busted knee in Paris this summer.  Was I under the influence?  Unfortunately, no.  Just another victim of purple's evil wrath. I was hesitant to even go here.  Just this morning I woke up sick with no water in my building. 

I blame purple.  Purple?

Speed reading British Vogue, I happened across a section where editors and stylists reveal what brings them bad luck fashion-wise.  From leather pants that split up the crotch to a darling Rykiel dress in which your dumped, the message was swarovski crystal clear.  Get those cursed items the hell out of your sacred closet.  Banish them to your nearest charity shop, sell on ebay, throw out the nearest window, set aflame.

Speaking of windows, I feel out of a one in above offending purple pencil skirt.  Thankfully, I timbered onto the patio. I survived to tell this harrowing tale and to teach all the dangers of snug pencil skirts.  For the same reason I detest snowboarding, legs should not be oppressed. The next day, I lost my euro cellular and split sauvignon blanc on my blackberry rendering it useless. Then I got sunstroke in a seemingly harmless vintage purple tartan skirt thoughtlessly picked up in Le Marais.  Cue les parametiques et une ambulence.  Recently I fell UP the stairs at Starbucks, then proceeded to slide DOWN. No one helped me get up.  I messaged my dear Mag, photog of above toilette shot.  She rightfully questioned my colour palette.  

"Mosha, are you wearing purple?"

Zute.  An INDIGO sweater.  How could I be so careless with my safety?

Please learn from my magenta mistakes.  Spring is pending, lovelies.  Time to clean house. I did a closet clear-out the other day, which I ship to my Auntie Chrissie out west to sell.  Rid 

yourself of all those items that have only brought evil, bruises and tears. It could save your life.  Hence, offending purple garment was ceremoniously bid adieu.  Bon voyage forsaken skirt.

Housing Works

I like this idea a lot.  

Only with European or Japanese Vogue though.  American Vogue has about 2 riveting covers a year.  You could also do this with a striking editorial.  Any with the work of Roitfeld, Alt, Lanphear or Nickerson will do.

This photo is from Domino Magazine.  I purchased their last issue yesterday.  It pains me greatly that they will no longer be in publication--another casualty of the recession.  Such a shame.  There is nothing else like it on the newsstand.  I like Elle Decor, but it's a bit bourgeois for a twenty-something.  

However, in times like these, I think it's more important than even to create a creatively inspiring and nurturing home.  Domino was all about reflecting your unique style in everything you do.  I adore this credo and will miss it dearly.

R.I.P, dear domino.

Here are some more pictures to dream about.  

The mix of art and prints hung salon style and casually propped against the wall is eclectically curated.  Mag--I think we could work this look for our apartment in Le Marais.  

A lowly hung-chandelier paired with a Gothic bed feel seductively sinister.  It evokes a nouveau Dangerous Liaisons ambiance.  Perfect for a West Village pad.

This sitting room is equal parts modern and modish.  Splashes of robin's egg always invigorate spaces.  This is how I would decorate my apartment in Rio. 

This is classic Domino.  Everything compliments, yet it doesn't feel overwrought.  There is something so honest about this room.  Like a lovely couple moved in together, a nice balance of masculine and feminine.  

Food is a sensual experience, why not make the kitchen sexy?  Snakeskin certainly does the trick.  My parents townhouse has a well-appointed gunmetal and noir cookery.  Makes me feel like a flirty Food Network host whenever I whip up black sesame-crusted wild salmon.  

זה בדיוק

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Ma Vie et Paris

My Mother just sent me a message via her trusty blackberry from the streets of Paris.

"What's the name of that street we love with Chanel and Costume National?"

"Rue Cambon, Mummy mein"

(fun fact of the day: mein is an Icelandic term of endearment.  Has no direct translation, but is like darling"  Every relative on my Icelandic side uses it.  You can to.)

So while I sit in starbucks--writing/studying/planning a trip to peru/finalizing nyc fashion week details/prepping for a designer phone interview--LL is simply strolling my favourite city, taking it all in.  One thing at a time.  I can't remember the last time I focused solely on something.  Quel dommage.  

While I rely my ability to multi-task, I yearn for the Paris way of life.  

A beret in Paris is a bit Montmartre tourist, I love this look on Claudia.  Tweed, quilted leather, patent--the mix of different textures all in black is so Paris.   

"Je t'aime, Mama et J'adore les cadeaux de Chanel. xoxo"

Collegiate Chic

Study Bug Style

American Girl

Edie Sedgewick's ballet background influenced both her slim figure and preference for bodysuits.  Both comfortable and flattering, try one with a mini-skirt and tights or louche pants.

Donna Karan once built a whole wardrobe--and empire--on the bodysuit.  Time to dig them out of the dance class drawer.

Birkin, Bag, Bulldog

There is something terribly Parisian about wearing your luxury items with an airy nonchalance.

Jane Birkin is a constant inspiration for this reason.  Look how she wears her namesake handbag with a well-worn sensibility.  I find this lack of pretension endearing.  Consider this: instead of constantly acquiring the new, why not appreciate what you already have and just wear the hell out of it.

My mom always reminds me of this adage.  Don't save your nicest things for special occasions.  Enjoy them daily.  That is true luxury.  

Bow & Arrow

Perhaps it is the Gossip Girl residual effect from last night's episode.   I felt compelled to wear a bow in my hair today.  Juxtapose the sweetness of the bow with messy tresses.  Keep everything else boyish for balance.  Witness Madame Bardot when she was Mademoiselle complete her outfit with a masculine double breasted jacket.  

 Très mignon.

Tie Me Up

What would we do without scarves?   The bigger the better.  There was nary a moment in Israel when I was sans scarf.  Constant travelling necessitates swathing yourself in cloth.

Just add a scarf  et violà-- everything looks better--toute ensemble.  When in particularly dismal quarters (a uninspired hotel room in Mexico, my school residence in France) I use them to jazz up the decor.  

A good collection runs the gamut from designer to dollar store.  Picking up scarves from various locales is a fashionable memento.  Today I am wearing a vintage Oleg Cassini orange, navy blue and gold silk scarf.  It is a bit prissy country club so I paired it with a cashmere boyfriend cardigan.  

Hermès is of course untouchable if we're speaking scarves.  I love mine, but for now it is much better suited to my curtains then my neck.

Comme ça.