Showing posts with label classics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classics. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Today's Obsession: Classic Porcelain

I have been vigorously researching info on the royal wedding today. And tea parties. And just this morning, I updated my twitter background to this romantic, shabby-chic lacy something-or-other.

The combined outcome of all this is that I am currently obsessed with lace. I don’t know how I would want to wear it or incorporate it, but I’ve been searching everything from “lace pillows” to “lace accessories” to “lace necklaces.” Surprisingly, there actually isn’t that much out there.

I’m so disappointed. I’ve been looking at tea doilies and wedding flowers all morning and now I can’t get my lace fix. No bueno.

Instead, today’s obsession is this white porcelain tea set. My sorority recently had a tea party and everyone got all dressed up in dresses and hats (so cute!). And I’ve written before about how vintage-y tea and tea sets are.

On my little retro-glam kick right now, this seems to work well. I drink tea pretty much every day, so why not do it in (affordable) style? Here’s to us, even if we’re not marrying princes. We lovely ladies can toast whatever we want. As I like to remind myself, I don’t need a reason to celebrate. Obsessed.

Porcelain Tea Set – Diana, $40

Monday, April 18, 2011

Today's Obsession: Perfect 10 Ring

On my way home yesterday, I stopped by a shoe store because I felt inspired to look at some summer-y shoes. I found this pair of teal leather espadrilles that would have been perfect for the Bahamas, but the quality of the heel was, to put it kindly, utter crap. So as painful as it was (and it was), I left the store. But I made the right decision. I’m keeping this 10 streak going.

Part of the book I mentioned included a section on jewelry. For someone who identifies their style as “classic” (me—or at least that’s the goal), they advise to keep the jewelry simple. Typically, just a classic black leather watch and a pair of diamond studs. Now, I’ve done the black leather watch (I’ve had the same one since 8th grade) so I’m going shoot that one down. Instead, I’ll just keep to my beloved Michael Kors gem.

And while there’s no way in hell that I will be getting diamond studs anytime soon, I do like the idea of simplistic jewelry. This weekend, I went through and collected bags of clothes and jewelry (many stolen impulsively from work) to give to friends/donate. As cute as they were for one outfit, they take up too much room to justify keeping.

I’m leaning towards the simplicity. Blame my Buddhist-loving boyfriend and his simplistic style :). But with the right goods, simple doesn’t have to equate to being “plain.” I’m thinking my basics should include my pearls (duh), my soon-to-be-mine Michael Kors watch, my gold Aldo French hoops that I wear all the time, and a ring.

I’ve been scouring etsy for estate rings this morning. I want something simple, but still unique, and something quintessentially me. My girl Laura has this David Yurman ring that is to DIE for (and so very her). And my beloved J actually collects and wears different wedding bands; they’re all a little unique.

While I send a heartfelt shout-out to this key ring from Kappa, my version–or what I like today at least–is this gold and pearl ring. The price tag isn’t too ridiculous and I like that it matches my sorority pin (R.I.P. wherever you are). Pearls are actually my birthstone, so there’s an added bonus. Plus, the gold would tie into the MK watch, even if I wear the ring on my right hand.

I’m trying to eliminate outlandish pieces. No matter how fulfilling the original response, there are reasons why trends are “trends.” Gold and pearls are genuine classics and always have been. TSM, perhaps. But we can’t help it if we’re klassy. Obsessed.

The Pearls of Lord – engagement ring, $380

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Investing in the Good Stuff

It was drizzling today on the way to work in that awkward I’m-not-going-to-really-rain-just-sprinkle-enough-to-soak-your-shoes-and-make-you-cold way.

Growing up, I used to love the rain. But that was San Diego, where it rains five days a year. Rain meant that our house wouldn’t spontaneously combust. It was reason to celebrate.

That isn’t to say that I dislike rain now. But when I was younger, rain was something I was able to enjoy. From my living room, curled up by the fire with hot cocoa and a book. I wasn’t actually living in it. In fact, I didn’t even own a pair of rain boots until my senior year, when I bought myself a pair because I knew I’d be moving to a colder climate.

Anyway, walking to work today, my shoes did get wet, as did my hair. But I wasn’t necessarily cold. And when I evaluated my outfit, I realized the quality (and lack thereof) of my clothes.

Kmart flats, black drugstore tights, discount pencil skirt, H&M sweater… all of the basics of my outfit were well under $20. But my coat was a wool, black pea coat—the warmest I could possibly find in California, and a very expensive Christmas present from the Christmas before college. On my hands was a pair of insulated leather gloves that I bought myself when I was fifteen and hid in the back of my dresser because they were too pretty to wear.

The gloves probably cost something like $40—quite an investment for a 15-year-old, especially one that lives in a climate where I can’t wear gloves. And by asking for a quality coat for Christmas, I was sacrificing the opportunity to get something else. Something less useful, but more immediately satisfying.

I’m as big a fan of Forever 21 as the next frugalista who pays for her own clothes. Forever is good for cheap clothes—by any definition. But the most beloved, prized pieces in my closet are the ones I invested in: my leather jacket that I bought in Florence, my (very worn) cowboy boots that I bought as a graduation gift, my Marc Jacobs PanAm bag from my 16th birthday, my Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume that I bought somewhere over the Atlantic, my pearls, my sorority pin.

I don’t know if I care about them because they cost me, or if I was willing to pay more because I cared so much. But I have noticed that in many ways, you get what you pay for with clothes. And it makes a lot of sense to invest in the pieces that will last a lifetime and still be just as beautiful. That longevity is what makes those clothes classic.

Jackie O had "classic" down to a T.

Monday, February 14, 2011

What I'm Reading: Madame Bovary

Speaking of "classics..."

I'm currently a hundred pages into Madame Bovary and enjoying it immensely (when I find the time). The young Mrs. Bovary is annoying as heck and I find her irrational and overly emotional and mopey behavior kind of charming. Granted, her husband is a total slob and 100% dumpable, but whining never got a girl very far.

I'm hoping that she'll end up being much more endearing the further I get into the storyline. I sincerely hope that a story about someone so un-proactive wouldn't become a classic, but with Catcher in the Rye so famous, you never know. Come on girl, prove me right.

I'll include more deets when I finish the thing (I'm also reading two other books at the same time. Oof), but I thought I'd share this not-so-new find, while we're on the subject of "classics."

I'm hoping most people have seen these at Urban Outfitters or Borders or something, but numerous classic stories are being re-released with revamped, super sexy covers. Cubin-born artist and hubby to fashionista Isabel, Ruben Toledo has released several, either already out or set to be released this year. (Check out a WWD interview with Toledo here).

But my favorite are the fabric revamps by Coralie Bickford-Smith. The woman must be a total book nerd, but her designs are so simplistic and awesome. Books on their own are pretty and decorative, but adding some texture doesn't hurt, either.

The idea of re-released classics is especially exciting to me because I sincerely hope that they inspire a new generation (that is admittedly more focused on the aesthetic) to read--and appreciate!--some old favorites. Devour Twilight all you want, my little chillins, but no romance will top the complexity of Victorian novels.

Maybe now, you really can judge a book by its cover.


Penguin Hardcover Classics, typically $20