What a few days this has been for America’s celebrity watchers!
Number One…Vogue, WTF?
Kimchee, I mean, KimYe, Kim and Kanye, baby momma and baby daddy, unmarried ‘rents of a compass direction, the magnetic true North, (Didn’t they hear my momma mantra, “No Cohabitation Without Documentation“?)
How did y’all pull off the cover and all that fluffy copy in Vogue? Hmmm?
Somehow, somewhere, I truly believe a shitload of cash must have been deposited into Anna Wintour’s offshore bank account, because how else could she justify the dummying down of Vogue Mag, the Vogue I’ve salivated over since I was a little girl in Detroit, using my shiny silvery rounded edged scissors to cut out my favorite aspirational fashions and paste them in my wish book.
HOW COULD YOU, ANNA WINTOUR??
How can you justify putting them on your cover?
You have hurt me to my core, Anna Wintour. I am SO disappointed in you. Really.
I loved Vogue, Vogue is fashion. Uber fashion. High fashion. Picture me, Princess Rosebud, in Detroit, drooling over haute couture (even the term is exotic and exciting), sucking in my rosy little cheeks to play “model”, walking across my bedroom floor with a stack of books on my head. I inhaled the smell of the print on a fresh mag (still do) — and the added treat of those fragrance samples nestled between the pages.
This is where I honed my WANTS and desires of a material nature.
I am a material girl.
However, Kim Kardashian actually disgusts me. Her fame is based soley on a sex tape–A SEX TAPE. I’ve never seen it, nor do I ever want to, but I heard about it. She has no discernible talents or skills except for achieving the ultimate in a superficial and meaningless life.
GREAT message to send our impressionable young women, Kimmy! Way to go!
Maybe that’s my problem. I should have done a sex tape and accidentallyonpurpose leaked it to the media/public and then I’d be rich and famous, too! Too late now, right?
The KardKlan sells a line of klothing at Sears, and although there’s absolutely nothing wrong with SEARS, this is VOGUE, people. I want Chanel, Dior, YSL, MiuMiu, Burberry, Louboutin…all that jazz.
And I bet that no one knows that I have a personal connection with Vogue. When my Angel Boy was four and adorable, he had an agent and did a fashion shoot for the Italian Vogue. My baby boy! A model! He HATED it so it was a VERY short-lived career. Sigh. He was soo cute.
SHAME ON YOU, ANNA WINTOUR! SHAME ON VOGUE!
I’m on Vogue, too! Look at me and my new hard crush, Richard Roxburgh, star of the AU Rake, a MUST SEE. Don’t we make a LOVELY couple?
On To Number Two…Gwinnie and Chris
WTF is a goop? I never would have googled goop (that’s funny, say it ten times…googlegoop googlegoop…haha) but I say BRAVO to Gwinnie for capitalizing on the death of her marriage to Coldplay hottie Chris Martin by making it a front page story to drive traffic to her website/blog.
Way to go, Gwinnie! Yay for exploitation! Apparently, nothing IS sacred anymore. Not even the conscious pulling off of the wings of your marriage.
But I bit, I went there, I “gooped” — and this is the gobbledygook goop that I found there.
Hey, Gwinnie, did you know this is the definition I found for “goop”?
Mucho negative valence here, Gwinnie!
While visiting goop, I learned about this new age term, “conscious uncoupling”, this systematic undoing of a marital contractual obligation, kind of like Jenga, carefully taking out one piece at a time until one day it totally crumbles. Who’s the loser? Who’s the winner?
Is that what you mean, Gwinnie?
You are so blah to me, sorry, I just never GOT you, you never thrilled me with your acting, and your personal life seems so CONTRIVED and FAKE.
Are you also dedomiciling, going phfft, disassembling?
And what about the kids? How do you plan to consciously uncouple them?
In the midst of all the important and serious events in this world, the media has focused tons of attention on these unimportant stories.
Just in case you missed it all, you’re welcome!
It is with hearts full of sadness that we have decided to separate. We have been working hard for well over a year, some of it together, some of it separated, to see what might have been possible between us, and we have come to the conclusion that while we love each other very much we will remain separate. We are, however, and always will be a family, and in many ways we are closer than we have ever been. We are parents first and foremost, to two incredibly wonderful children and we ask for their and our space and privacy to be respected at this difficult time. We have always conducted our relationship privately, and we hope that as we consciously uncouple and coparent, we will be able to continue in the same manner.
“Everything you have is so perfect and fancy.”
That’s what the girl in the cheetah animal hat said to me as we checked in at the front desk of a Best Western hotel on the way back from Sacramento. (To read about my testimony at the Fish and Wildlife Services hearing to delist wolves, click here: Saving Wolves)
We asked the obvious, and she told why she was wearing an animal hat.
“Because I burned my hair last night. I’m not sure ‘zactly how it happened, but when I woke up this morning, one side was burned and shorter than the other side, so I’m trying to hide it with the hat” as she pointed to her head.
“I was partying and can’t remember how it happened.”
Oh-kay, hub and I said together…
It was one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received.
She GOT me. Totally.
I love being fancy.
And I love me some Coco Chanel.
Infinite perfect design.
If you are a girl who loves and drools over Chanel, the acquisition of the iconic 2.55 handbag is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING.
History of 2.55
In the 1920s, Coco Chanel grew tired of having to carry her handbags in her arms and decided to design a handbag that freed up her hands. Inspired by the straps found on soldiers’ bags she added thin straps and introduced the resulting design to the market in 1929.
After her successful comeback to the fashion industry in 1954, Chanel decided to update her handbag, for the modern woman. The resulting design was called 2.55 after the date of creation, February 1955.
The bag has a number of amazing features:
Chanel released an exact copy of the original 2.55 in February 2005 in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the creation of the original. Though the name “Reissue 2.55” should apply only to those commemorative handbags, it is now commonly used now as a name for all the handbags resembling the original 2.55. (Wikipedia)
And now I have my very own.
Another of my life’s dreams fulfilled.
Yes, I do realize that I spent the better part of 2012 obsessing about having a Chanel handbag and I did get one — my very first — the Grand Shopper Tote, but as I explained over and over and over again (ad nauseum) to my hub, that was a DAY bag, my “every day” bag, and I needed (NEEDED) a dressier handbag for special occasions.
Once again, my tugboat man has given me the BEST EVER present. Yes, I bugged him to death for it, but it’s a testament to his good nature that he STILL thinks I’m adorable…if a bit OVERLY tenacious.
However, I’ve agreed (in front of witnesses) that this will be my last Chanel. Chanel HANDBAG, that is. Because there are Chanel scarves, Chanel rings and necklaces and bracelets, and Chanel shoes and clothes. There is so much more Chanel for Princess Rosebud to acquire…shouldn’t he have been the least little bit suspicious when I agreed so readily? Ha ha. Dumb tugboat captain! :) He should know me MUCH better than that, right?
I had visions of becoming another Stacy London of What Not To Wear — without the signature silvery streak, of course, but with snappy repartee and a fast paced shopping excursion highlighting all of the essentials.
I’d help my clients build a wardrobe of neutral staples combined with pops of color, figure flattering visual interest, texture, sparkle, animal print, completer pieces, awesome shoes, and scarves to draw attention away from the hips and up to the the face.
I had an epiphany.
Sometimes things that theoretically seem like a great idea and plausible do NOT always turn out that way in the real world.
I so wish y’all could have been with me; you’d be the ghost-like apparitions following us around the shops.
Here I am at my age (just never you mind about what it is) still grabbing at parachutes, searching for a career path, a niche, a calling, a vocation.
It’s been suggested by some that I should combine my love of shopping and fashion and become a stylist to help others who don’t have my innate good taste and eye for color, texture, and style. All kidding aside, my Hello Kitty obsesh is only a teensy weensy anomaly, not representative of what’s contained in my closet(s).
You know, shopping but for others with OPM (other people’s money) and stuff like that.
I kinda have a dilettantish background for it; I worked at San Diego‘s Old Globe Theatre in the costume department, I’ve sewn my own clothes for years, read all the fash mags, and spend hours and hours and hours shopping and drooling over finely crafted designer wear. Sigh.
In fact, I had serious thoughts of starting my own clothing company. I registered the name and acquired the patterns and though it kinda never went anywhere beyond the concept stage, it’s still viable. ***If anyone wants to partner, email me.
Anyhow, here’s the backstory: I was getting my glasses adjusted last week at the same place we’ve gone to for about fifteen years. There was some convo with the owner who was asked to accompany her guitar teacher at a gig in Rancho Santa Fe (very ritzy part of San Diego) and she declined because she had nothing appropriate to wear.
One of her employees said, “Hey, you should ask Rosebud to shop with you, she’s a fashionista.”
One thing led to another and I learned that she hadn’t shopped for clothes in at least two years. TWO YEARS. Yeah, I know. Can you believe it? The poor thing. She needed me.
With a public declaration that I would be her personal stylist, our mission was to acquire a variety of clothing to wear for musical gigs in several different venues from upscale to casual.
We arranged to shop for a solid five-hour block.
Focused. Determined. Goal-oriented.
She picked me up here at Casa de Enchanted Seashells and we were off to The Forum in La Costa. I wanted her to feel the textures and colors and variety at Anthropologie, not necessarily to buy a lot of clothing there, but to arouse her senses and try on a lot of things outside her comfort zone.
Her current comfort zone seems to be heavily dependent upon beige t-shirts and beige cargo pants.
OY, the horror. I’m shvitzing just thinking about it.
If only I really were Stacy London, I would have happily tossed them in the trash can!
All my research tells me that It’s important to get to know your client and her personal taste, in order to help her to look her best. Trying on clothes is critical! Just because something looks good/bad on the hanger, you’ll never know if it works unless you try it on.
I had to force her to see beyond the initial like/dislike of something that’s just hanging on a rack.
We found a couple of JBrand skinny jeans at Anthro, along with several casual ethnic-inspired tops, and then we were off to Nordstrom Outlet in San Marcos. In addition to clothing, they have an amazing selection of footwear.
I selected two different styles of boots, two pairs of flats: one casual, one dressy, and two pairs of not-very-high heels.
She’s pretty open to trying new things and expanding her fashion choices (beyond beige, thank goodness) but she’s not a girl who wears dresses or skirts with ease.
Because she needed to portray class and elegance especially for her upscale gigs, I chose a Calvin Klein black blazer and matching tuxedo trousers as wardrobe staples.
I paired several blouses with the blazer/trousers, including a beautiful turquoise, green, blue swirly graphic design with a self-tie for visual interest, and an appropriate silk animal print.
Unfortunately, we were in such a time crunching whirlwind, I wasn’t able to take pics of the outfits.
What I learned about myself is that I’m REALLY good at this personal stylist stuff; I’m always helping everyone in dressing rooms who need advice — I’m not shy about offering my opinions, THAT’S for sure…
I’ll let you in on a little secret…
I HATE SHOPPING WHEN IT’S NOT FOR ME.
Hate it. HATE IT.
This little Princess wants it all to be about her. Yes, I’m speaking in third person — it’s what I DO when I’m trying to really get my point across.
My arms are crossed and I’m stamping my little foot and yes, my lower lip is jutting out just like you thought it would be.
PRINCESS WAS SAD.
As I (back to first person) was perusing the racks for appropriate clothing to dress my client, my gaze wandered longingly to shoes and dresses and sparkly things that I wanted to caress and lovingly scoop up in my arms and run off to the dressing rooms…but this was not like going shopping with a friend where you each try on outfits and then come together for independent reviews of yea or nay.
I was being paid to SERVE someone else’s needs.
ME NO LIKE.
NO CAN DO.
Obviously NOT my dream job.
I was a very sad Princess Rosebud. I guess it’s not in the stars for me to be a personal stylist.
Yes, it was a success for HER but I came away empty-handed and depressed.
Guess what I did?
I bet it’s not too difficult to figure me out.
I went back to Nord a couple of days later and tried on clothes and shoes to my heart’s content.
I came away with an awesome black Calvin Klein blazer and matching pencil skirt (to replace an outfit I had previously returned to White House Black Market.)
And you know what?
NOW I’m happy. :)
And PRINCESS is happy, too :)
P.S. Anyone want to go shopping with me?
Yes, I’m referring once again to retail therapy, the practice and art of fervently slapping down the old plastic on the counter — because I’m still searching for the perfect wedge and –just becuz. Who says you need a reason?
And because it’s prolly time for a less than totes cray rant about not killing animals, am I right?
Deep breath — keeping it light and fluffy, shopping is the perfect antidote to crazytime.
And yay for me! I came close to finding that elusive perfect wedge. Very close.
And check out that silly Chanel photo bomb. Always trying to upstage everyone!
(Nord obvs designed the bag for me, “shopping genius”. I mean, “Duh”. Look how the arrow points directly to moi.)
BTW, don’t you HATE it when stores change the layout that you have come to rely on, to trust?
I SO do, and I was a bit discombobulated when I walked into Nord and discovered that the jewelry had moved, the workout clothes weren’t where they should have been –but thank goodness, SHOES stayed solid and safe –aisles and aisles, rows upon rows — of wedges, heels, flats — repeat it like a mantra–wedges, heels, flats. Sigh…
I have a certain modus operandi upon entering this store. I want to go to the shoes soooo bad, but I force myself to take a circuitous route to have a little delayed gratification.
Lots and lots of jewelry and sparkly stuff, but nothing caught my eye.
On to the scarves and I found two that needed to come home with me. Coincidentally, they both feature a butterfly motif. Too cute!
I could wait no longer. Pushing a couple of little kids out of the way (shouldn’t they all be in school by now??) I immediately grabbed about four pairs of shoes and tried them on.
Just like Goldilocks, it was a no to all of them but these sweet little Cole Haan strappy platform wood wedges. Cole Haan always has the greatest fit, light as a feather, and the zipper is totes adorbs, don’t you agree? They’re fire engine red (pic came out a bit light) and CLOSE to achieving perfection, but not quite there. The wedge is wood, not cork, but the comfort factor makes up for that little problem. They were a bit pricey even at the outlet — originally $228.00, on sale for $119.00. I think I’ll wear them a lot with skinny jeans or maybe I’ll take them back, I always leave that option open.
I fold all of the silk ones.
They have their own special chest of drawers.
Hanging scarves is a great way to display them, too.
My tugboat man doesn’t think so,
but his opinion doesn’t really count, ya know what I’m sayin’?.
Try this simple embellishment for any new or old sweater.
This is the easiest-in-the-world DIY project. Trust me.
I bought a plain white sweater at Target but I needed to jazz it up a bit Princess Rosebud-style ‘cos it was just a tad too dull and ordinary for a Princess, ya know?
I stripped off (and saved) the plain buttons…
AND just noticed the uneven ribbing on the bottom.
Ya get what ya pay for, right?
…and replaced them with inexpensive sparkly rhinestone ones.
I added a special bead button at the bottom for a little extra texture and shine.
Some of the button holes were a bit larger than the new buttons;
all it took was a few stitches to make it fit nice and snug.
The finished product, although not a very good pic.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to photograph white?
Quite the challenge for a non-pro to capture the sparkle, too…
Time for a little extra brain power
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