The Site Devoted To Shopping
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Rob and I took an early morning walk this morning, and I had to stop short in front of the Zara window: This digital floral story is crazy cool. I poked around in the store a bit later, and found these sequined and embroidered skirts pretty irresistible, too.
clockwise, l-r: FLORAL PRINT BLAZER, $89.90, Zara; ASYMMETRIC FLORAL PRINT SKIRT, $49.90, Zara; EMBROIDERED MINI SKIRT, $59.90, Zara; PRINTED SEQUINNED SKIRT, $129.00, Zara.
When you survey your closet do you ever feel anger—dare I say rage—when you take stock of the pieces that you’ve only worn once? I do: I feel mad at myself for depriving that blouse of a better home, and I feel mad at myself for depriving my wallet of money that could be put to better use. And then I feel mad at the sales person who convinced me that the blouse looked good. And then I vow not to ever shop at that boutique, or department store, or chain store again.
Because the best sales people don’t lie.
Kyung!
In my mind, a pushy sales person is a bit like an undermining friend: You know, the type of friend who encourages you to house five brownies when she knows you’re on a diet. Or, to wear a dress to an event that’s clearly two sizes too small. There’s healthy encouragement…and then there’s flat-out sabotage. I think about one purple top I bought at a vintage store in Nolita in New York City. It was wildly overpriced for what it was, and I knew, in my heart, that it didn’t look good on me, but the boutique owner, who was also a stylist, convinced me that I had body dysmorphia and that it was really the best thing ever. I hesitated, and bought the shirt, and wore it out with some friends in Miami. The next morning, poolside in my bathing suit, my friend Michael, who had been out with me the night before, leaned over, and said: “You know what? I had no idea you weren’t fat…why do you wear those tent-like tops?” Good question indeed.
One of my closest friends back in New York City is a hilarious lady named Kyung Lee, who owns an unassuming dress shop in the West Village called Albertine. At Lucky, we wrote about Albertine ad nauseam, in part because Kyung always finds the best small independent designers before they make it big, but also because we all shopped there. I could easily spend three or four hours sitting on the tiny couch in her tiny shop watching Kyung sell. In fact, I spent so much time there, I even learned how to run the credit card machine so that I could help out when she was overrun.
See, here’s the thing. Kyung could sell, because she didn’t sell at all. I have bought a lot of things at Albertine over the years—a lot, a lot—but there is not one thing that I bought there that taunts me from my closet. Because Kyung would never, ever let me—or anyone else for that matter—buy something that didn’t look good. Being in that dressing room is pretty intimate stuff: Women reveal their deepest insecurities, and look for real assurance. I’m not quoting her here, but I think Kyung takes that faith and trust seriously. Maybe talking clients out of dresses isn’t the sanest business move, but the cling of the cash register doesn’t really motivate her. Her clientele has been built on word of mouth—and the best press she can get is when her customers wear the things they’ve bought from Albertine, and wear them again and again.
Kyung has taught me a lot about how to dress my body over the years, by reminding me of one of the simplest rules out there: Everything doesn’t look great on everybody, and you should never trust someone who would try to persuade you otherwise. Skinny jeans? They make my hips look ginormous. A tailored shirt with a collar? The best way to simultaneously play up and down my curves. A belt? Pretty much my best friend ever.
I’m not Kyung, but I’d like to think that I can be here for you guys: You can always email me from the dressing room at elise [at] beso [dot] com, or you can click on over to our Editor’s Picks tab, where we’re unrolling a series of styling and shopping videos to hopefully make it easier to get dressed in the morning. If we’re missing a topic you’d like us to tackle, please drop me a line in comments so we can address it soon!
I’ve never been able to keep a house plant alive. Even an air plant. Ironic, really, because my mom is a masterful gardener. She’s coming to visit in a month, and I’m hoping that she’ll transform our patio into a jungle. In the interim, I’m kind of convinced that I can handle a terrarium. If I lived in New York or Chicago, I’d stop by Sprout for one of these suckers.
But since they don’t ship, I’m going to assemble one myself in this gorgeous dodecahedron vessel, or a more affordable variation from West Elm (be sure to watch the corresponding tip-filled Shane Powers video, shot by my friend David Land). Good long-weekend project, no?
clockwise, l-r: TERRARIUMS, under $50.00, Sprout Home; SHANE POWERS FISH BOWLS, $14.99-$69.00, West Elm; SCORE & SOLDER TERRARIUM, $160.00, Old Faithful Shop.
So do you know what the Upfronts are? I didn’t, until I found myself in a week-long Upfronts suite at a fancy hotel in midtown New York watching TV actors and actresses get free stuff (good free stuff, too) while the networks announced their show line-ups for the next season. A little-known Katherine Hiegl was there for what was to become Grey’s Anatomy, and I remember thinking she was just as pretty as she was in My Father the Hero, that 1994 movie she starred in with Gerard Depardieu. In 1994, when I was 15, Katherine Heigl was kind of everything I was not, i.e., tan, blonde, and most importantly, worthy of the attention of handsome boys.
But anyway…Anne Ziegler was also in that week-long Upfronts suite with me, since she was working for Sigerson Morrison, who at the time, was getting tons of attention for its rubber, high-heeled flip flops. Huge trend! See, this was a long time ago (2004, to be exact). Anne and I bonded big-time—over high-heeled flip-flops, the catering, the TV stars. She went on to leave PR and take up trend-spotting and street style photography, which makes sense, because she has a superlative eye and even better taste. (In fact, I feel like she ends up as the subject of more street style photographs than she actually takes herself).
Like me, Anne just moved to LA (she grew up here, so it’s not that much of a stretch), and so I’ve roped her into contributing street style (only legitimately wearable outfits made the cut) and her other inspired, online finds.
I’ve never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day—except, of course, when I was a kid and would spend the better part of a day constructing an elaborate Valentine’s-catching shoebox, complete with red and pink tissue paper and foil feathers. (Have I mentioned that I love to craft?) Anyway, it’s always seemed like one of those holidays that intends to make single people feel badly. And as I was a single person in New York City—for, what, seven years?—who relied on restaurants to keep me fed every night, the holiday was always a double blow, because you couldn’t get a reservation, and should you find a seat at a bar, you were always bookmarked by awkward “are we exclusive yet” couples and tired married people going through the motions. I might have expected “romance” when I was eight, but let’s just say that my V-Day expectations had waned considerably over the years.
Anyway, three years ago, Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday: It was cold in New York, and I set out to meet my friend Sarah for a matinee and a post-movie wander in a hoodie (never go to the movies without one), Rod Laver sneakers, a beaten up pair of jeans, and a truly messy bun. I think we fell into a spell at ABC Carpets because suddenly it was late, and so I had to go straight to a birthday dinner at my brother’s apartment for my brother’s partner’s little brother (22 at the time) without stopping at my house to change. From there? We made an unanticipated pit-stop at a Valentine’s Day party at one of my brother’s author’s houses in Soho (it was on my way home). There were 11 of us at the party in total, in an unfurnished loft, and so we used the empty floor-plan for an impromptu dance party (so not my style). At midnight or so, my friend Lori texted me that she was at a birthday party down the street from my house in Nolita, at the bar that I frequented most often, called Shebeen. Naturally, I extolled all 11 party guests to accompany me there, where I ran into this guy Rob, who I had met a couple of times through my friend Nick. And by met, I mean that we had stood awkwardly at Shebeen together while Nick and Rob chatted. Rob was an interior designer at the time for Armani Casa (I found that last part really confounding): I thought he was very good-looking (if you live in New York for long enough, this can actually be a turn-off/warning sign) and maybe boring (he’s super shy), and clearly disinterested in me (he assumed I was dating Nick, and so had refused to engage me in conversation at all).
Still with me here? There we were at Shebeen on Valentine’s Day, and after we established my relationship status, and the fact that Rob wasn’t shy but was actually awesome, he told me that he liked my hoodie. I figured it was because it made me stand-out in the sea of party dresses and high heels. But in reality, I think it was because that’s actually what I’m about. Dressing like a boy…but with lots of jewelry. We went out on our first date two weeks later, and I tried to compensate for the fact that he’d essentially seen me in my PJs by pulling out the big, fashion with a cap F guns: Some crazy, drape-y Gary Graham top, really high boots, a leather jacket, makeup, blown-out hair…and he was confused. He missed my hoodie and my arguably ratty curls. I guess what I’m trying to say in my long-winded way is that A. You really never know when you’re going to meet the guy you’re going to marry. And B. It’s arguably best for everyone if you’re wearing something that approximates your real-life personality and style. I may work in fashion, but I still think life is too long for endless dress-up. So while I have to admit I’d never show up to a first date in my Valentine’s Day outfit, I do believe you should look like an ever-so-slightly more polished version of yourself. I mean…right? What’s your take?
And happy Valentine’s Day! I may still hate on it, but I owe this holiday a lot.
clockwise, l-r: ADIDAS ROD LAVER SNEAKERS, $59.95, Nordstrom; UNISEX HOODIE, $51.00, American Apparel; JAMES PERSE V-NECK T-SHIRT, $50.00, Neiman Marcus; RAIL-STRAIGHT JEANS, $98.50, Madewell.
In case you missed it, I’m an OpenSky curator, which means I get to pick pieces I absolutely stand behind to sell. My first sale—four accessories—went live this morning, and a bootie is already sold-out (it looks like there might be one size 10 left). I’m particularly smitten with this Vanessa Mooney spike necklace. It’s a lot of color, for sure, but it’s the sort of piece that can pull an entire outfit together. I’ve made mine a bit longer care of some embroidery-thread, but you can wear it at the length intended, too (see shot of me below…that’s how it sits naturally). The necklace is 28% off for OpenSky members…(and it’s already under $100). I’m also selling an awesome cross-body bag (under $100), and a neon pink bangle. Get in there!
I went to see The Descendants today, and laughed and cried, and left the theater wanting to A. Return to Kauai and B. Invest in a proper Hawaiian quilt. I have a quilted sunglasses case I tracked down in Princeville, but it doesn’t quite capture the full sensibility. Until I onboard Rob (bedspreads run about $800), I’m going to start with some pillow covers.
l-r: ANTHURIUM FLOWER PILLOW, $24.99, Moana Quilts; TURTLES, PLUMERIA AND MONSTERA LEAVES, $29.99, Moana Quilts.
We thought it would be wise to go take an trip to The Grove this afternoon. Chaos. After a fortifying pitstop at the Farmer’s Market for some ice cream, we managed to swim upstream to J.Crew (I wanted to go for the shoes, specifically the bone-hued Sperry for J.Crew Top-Siders). I have to say, I was totally blown away by the jewelry, particularly the enamel costume-inspired stuff. And, well, you know how I feel about jewelry. (That enamel locket for $50 is particularly good.)
clockwise, l-r: MARINA NECKLACE, $125.00, J.Crew; ENAMEL LOCKET, $50.00, J.Crew; EVIE STRIPE PEEP-TOE PUMPS, $258.00, J.Crew; SPERRY FOR J.CREW TOP-SIDERS, $98.00, J.Crew.
So for those who missed it (shock, horror), I moved from New York last October to pick up the Beso mantle. Beyond everything changing (new husband, new house, new job, new car), nothing really changed: I wear the same whackadoodle outfits to work (yesterday, as I left the house for work, I asked Rob if he liked my outfit; he responded that he likes my confidence), I’m still obsessed with my cats, and I obsessively color-code my life, from my closet to my bookshelves to Rob’s massive LP collection.
I’ve also been eating and drinking the same things, namely, I always have a salad for lunch, manage to drink not even a single sip of water over the course of an average day, and put back way too much wine. Yet somehow—despite the fact that I’ve been riding my bike to work—I’ve gained eight pounds. And no, I’m not prego.
Despite my best efforts to keep my life the same here in LA, I think I know why this has happened: In New York, I managed to make it to Soul Cycle three times a week, most notably, to Rique’s class, which is like a 45-minute, heart attack-inducing sprint (in the best possible way). Though I’ve been trying to replicate the effect at various spin studios around the city, up until this morning, there was no Soul Cycle in Los Angeles, and definitely no Rique. But things have changed: Soul Cycle opened the doors to its first L.A. studio this morning, and I was there, hoping to begin to turn this steady scale climb around. Who wants to ride with me? Meanwhile, meet the L.A.-based team:
I was clicking around on Cool Hunting yesterday, and happened across the announcement of the brand new web enterprise, Bureau of Trade. Essentially, a former IDEO designer (i.e., a bad-ass industrial designer) is sifting through Etsy and eBay to find the most worthy stuff. The clothing and accessories are engineered toward men, but the home goods appeal to both sexes. This stuff is AMAZING, truly.
I mean, who doesn’t want this very-chic backpack, or this whiskey barrel? (Note: The descriptions are truly hilarious.)
Clearly, they’re everywhere…and I’m guessing for good reason: There’s something so fresh and fun about the color, and I think they’d be surprisingly versatile, whether with a crisp white button-down or a chambray shirt. The J. Brand cut looks like it might be the most flattering, but I like the deepness of the pair from Urban Outfitters. Thoughts?
clockwise, l-r: J BRAND MID-RISE SKINNY JEANS, $170.00, Shopbop; PAIGE PREMIUM DENIM LEGGINGS, $169.00, Neiman Marcus; KSUBI LA FEMME CROPPED JEANS, $110.40, Tags; BDG TWILL ANKLE PANTS, $49.00, Urban Outfitters.
I think we can all agree that fashion moves so fast these days, it’s all a headache-inducing blur of trendlet after trendlet. So know what I like? When designers decide what they’re about and then stand behind it, season after season. Like Suno, master of amazing African-sourced textiles and exuberant patterns. Much of the line is truly out there, but it’s distinctive, and cool, and there’s not a lot like it. Instead of completely re-imaginging the line from season to season, it seems like they’re doing cool brand extensions instead, like the Lizzie Fortunato/Suno jewelry collaboration, and these adorable canvas sneakers. (Bonus: Both under $100.)
l-r: LIZZIE FORTUNATO FOR SUNO RAMS HEAD EARRINGS, $69.00, Suno; LACE-UP SNEAKER, $65.00, Suno.
