About Me

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Two five-ten blondes fighting against the stereotype to find love, success, and a way to pay the rent. *** We're passionate about our seriously stressful careers in the apex of the luxury fashion world. (No, it's not like the Devil Wears Prada- our Devils only wear custom and pay for their anonymity.) *** We're on the search for the elusive 'great' guy (who must be intimidated because we can't find him anywhere). Being 5'10" and blonde is a double-edged sword. Our stories are fucking ridiculous. *** Fortunately and unfortunately for us, we share the same story as millions of women who have been violated: we are determined to make a difference in the lives of women who have seen too much. *** WELCOME TO OUR WORLD.
Showing posts with label Fashion Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fashion Dreams. Show all posts

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Last Day


Today marks the end of my fashion career. Tomorrow I'll be on a plane to Italy... and I won't have to wake up at 7 am and deal with rush hour for the next two years. I've paid every bill, saved enough money, bought everything I need, packed both intelligently and fashionably; there are literally no loose ends. It's a great feeling - but I don't feel it yet.

Perhaps it's because I'm still in the office, listening to the same late 2000's pop rock mix and huddling under a sweater. I remember the first time I worked in an office and I was horrified by particular aspects of the corporate culture - the break room jokes, the food talk, the "Happy Monday" greetings, the dress code. It felt a bit like death. Five years later, I engage in the same mindless chatter, and dutifully wear black when told. I even stopped getting manicures because our CEO requires pale polish - I'd rather go nude than wear baby pink. But no more... I can wear whatever I want, wake up whenever I want and go wherever I please. If I feel like I am done with my work at 2pm, I can stop instead of sitting around for four hours surfing the internet and blogging.

Incidentally, I'm done with my work. I just completed my exit interview and got my last check. My boss is out of the country on business......and, I've just decided to skip off early and go see Bad Teacher with my friend David.


Ahh, freedom. I finally feel it now.


*scorpio*

Monday, June 6, 2011

Brighten Your Day


Our new BCBG showrooms...



We're right on trend...







always a fan of our jewelry



love this slouchy sweater and lime green chiffon from Max Azria



citrus brights at Herve Leger




sneak peek: the launch of Herve Leger footwear...






I was so inspired by the beauty around me, I started noticing it everywhere...


perfect summer lunch - spicy shrimp wrap at Pret


flowers & candles make everything nicer


the rather modest front of my silk faux jumpsuit...
(top by Michael Kors, shorts by BCBG)


What can I say? I'm into the naked back!



*scorpio*

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Fake It Till You Make It


'This stuff’? Oh, ok. I see, you think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select out, oh I don’t know, that lumpy blue sweater, for instance, because you’re trying to tell the world that you take yourself too seriously to care about what you put on your back. But what you don’t know is that that sweater is not just blue, it’s not turquoise, it’s not lapis, it’s actually cerulean. You’re also blithly unaware of the fact that in 2002, Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns. And then I think it was Yves St Laurent, wasn’t it, who showed cerulean military jackets? And then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of eight different designers. Then it filtered down through the department stores and then trickled on down into some tragic Casual Corner where you, no doubt, fished it out of some clearance bin. However, that blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry when, in fact, you’re wearing the sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room. From a pile of “stuff.”



No joke, a woman very much like Ms Miranda Priestly used to be my boss... ah, misty watercolored memories. I'm now in the midst of mentoring several young girls from my alma mater. I'm having a hard time mustering the enthusiasm I used to have for the industry.

Luckily, I know how to fake it.

*scorpio*

Monday, October 25, 2010

Miss Jackson, If You're Nasty...

Just found these on the Nasty Gal Clothing website...


OBSESSED!

I love NastyGal for slightly subversive, downtown pieces on the cheap. Think mesh, body-con, animal prints, fringe... comme ci:


Nothing wrong with a little bit of sex to spice up a typical Tuesday.

I love a nude back. It's the new cleavage (not that I was ever really into la cleave)



I'm (slightly) too old to do a whole head-to-toe Nasty, but certain pieces are just PARFAIT, and perfectly incorporate into my wardrobe. Since I work in a creative industry, I would totally wear these to work with a slouchy sweater dress or chubby fur.

The cherry on this leather-luv sundae? They're only $168. The absolute right price for a trendy item I will wear to death, but probably won't be wriggling into for decades to come...

GAAAAH.


*scorpio*

Monday, September 13, 2010

TOM FORD

Aries was determined to meet Tom Ford, and I'm so glad I tagged along.

Below, a photo essay of what we endured for that oh-so-coveted man.

The crush of people waiting on Mr. Ford. It got rowdy. In Bergdorf. Can you imagine?

Sweet, sweet victory. Aries & I were one of the last people to get the signed headshot and 30 seconds with the man himself. I completely stuttered my way through-- Tom complimented my hair and I just about lost my breath. I did not recover well, and I forgot to tell him what I've always thought: Tom Ford makes life more beautiful for the women who love men. I'm such a fan of the superbly tailored man who's thought of every detail. It's like unwrapping a present.


The only way to survive FNO. Please note the band-aid. It was take no prisoners in Madison Square on my way uptown. But, nothing could stop me so I nipped into a Duane Reade, ditched the torn tights and bandaged up. So very chic.

A beautiful end to a beautiful night...

*scorpio*