Cyndi Was Right

(Alexander McQueen Spring 2009)

Girls get to have all the fun.

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Dunkin' Donuts Now Dyeing Garments

     Though he isn't one of the usual suspects for designers that drain my wallet, Kean Etro certainly has a clever idea for what to do with white shirts that you've ruined: ruin them some more. Although I'm a very careful drinker of coffee – black, no sugar, no milk – even I am not immune to the effects of overly full cups of joe. The founder and designer of Etro suggested taking any accidents to their natural conclusion by cooking your clothes in coffee. His recipes for how to properly prepare cuisine-inspired fashion also includes salt baked and blueberry soaked shirts, too. Très chic, bon appétit!

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WANT WANT WANT: Sleek in Schwarz

(Surface 2 Air Paris Mountain sneaker in black leather, $118 @ Blackbird)

     If this shoe doesn't get me to start writing more often, then I don't know what possibly could. It's smart, clean, and the leather version of the one I pined over last Decemeber. I would have loved for it to be all black, but it's still absolutely stunning. Everything that I liked about the army canvas version looks ever better done in black leather. And tomorrow, after I grab my paycheck, it's going to be mine.

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Wallet Alert: Not-Bad Bags

(Balkan Tango Budapest "M" Inner Tube Bag, $120 @ Supermarket)

(Livity Urbanite Messenger Bag, $70 @ Tobi)

     I hate sacrificing style for substance. It's an inherently painful exchange. Often times, the choice that would be better for the planet is usually the much less aesthetically pleasing one. Hell, it's usually straight up ugly. Thankfully, the folks at Balkan Tango, a Hungarian design group, have managed to circumvent the whole issue with their recycled bags. I've seen people make those LP bags before, but the Budapest, made from six punctured bicycle tires, certainly managed to catch my eye.

     What I love most about the bag (aside from the ability to sidestep all that guilt) is that all the flaws and quirks of the tires, from the brand to the specifications, all merge into the bag's identity. It's a clever idea and I'm pretty sure that no two bags are alike. This is seriously looking like a very replacement for my current bag.

     Likewise, the Livity Urbanite is a classic messenger, replete with side pockets, front zip pocket, and velcro closure. Made of hemp and cotton with rafia pockets, this bag is the definition of going green. My only fear is that it's a bit too granola for my style. Lord knows I'd be absolutely horrified if some grungy hippie came up to me and asked me where I got my bag. But at $70, it's a much more viable option than the Balkan Tango one.

     A bag, a bag, my kingdom for a bag...

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Dress You Up in My Love

     Oak is back with a vengeance and a new location on Bond Street. But, more importantly, there's tons of new stuff in stock. What I've always loved about Oak has been the balance they've struck between the avant-garde and the everyday.

(Kerrigan Wrap, $262 @ Oak)

     Not just a cardigan, not just a wrap, not just an another layer. Kerrigan creates an elegant solution to the question of "What should I wear today?" Everything about this piece just screams "Wear me!" from its jersey fabric to its drawstring collar, to its draped pockets. The heather gray is a nice contrast and is the perfect color to showcase the construction. At $262, it's certainly a pricey investment, but this is certainly a piece that would be able to weather the shifting winds of fashion.

(Opening Ceremony Stainglass hoodie, $289 @ Oak)

     One thing I've always loved about Opening Ceremony is that while the folks that run it certainly have an eye for design, they've always been willing and able to fill the holes in their wardrobe for themselves. The result? Pieces like this stainglass hoodie can easily work itself into your closet, but are unique enough to stand on their own.

     Oh, and how much do I love the Oak product shots? They're half the reason I shop there anyway.

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Watch the Runway: Proenza Schouler F/W 08

    Fashion Week has been whirling around us in a fervor and only now am I getting my lazy ass around to actually collecting my thoughts about everything. And what better way to start than with, honestly, one of the best showings of any designer this season: Proenza Schouler Fall '08.



     First things first. It's "School-er". Not "Shoe-ler".
     Now that we've gotten the introductions done with, I can properly begin adulating to the gods that are Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez. With the huge cash injection that Proenza Schouler received from the Valentino Fashion Group, the two Parsons grads have been able to go into more conceptual directions with their collection. The meticulous tailoring that we've come to expect out of Proenza Schouler was used to particular effect, creating looks that simultaneously played up and down the body's proportions.
     Pleats and ruffles and bows, usually the domain of the girly and flirty, became expanding symbols of feminine power and self-assertion when used on bright metallic fabrics. The sharp construction transformed soft drapery into solid angles and outerwear was turned inside out (literally) as the duo experimented with what we expect "tailored" design to look like. I especially loved the layering of textures: never have sequins looked so refined. I used to associate them with cheap hookers, but I think the folks at Proenza Schouler certainly kicked the sophistication up a notch.
     The styling was aces. The shoes were a classic pump given new height and new boldness in all-over suede (I think?) or croc in a variety of colors. While I loved the pink and yellow pumps, the chocolate croc one definitely takes the prize for being eminently wearable and deviously stylish. In terms of proportions, there was a definite dichotomy between ruffled dresses and shifts paired with tights and generously cut trousers that billowed with great volume. The trousers were put with sequin-covered tops and cinched by skinny belts and given a great big dash of drama with coats that dripped and drooped under the impressive weight of such minute construction.
     A definite trend that's been emerging this season has been texture, especially in the more monochromatic collections. But instead of playing purely with color or purely with texture, the boys at Proenza Schouler managed to incorporate both without overwhelming the senses. The sense of careful editing is evident through the entire collection. It's easy to see where some sleeves could have ballooned out of control, some ruffles could have spiraled into fashion satire, but a steady eye keeps the silhouettes chic and reasonable, even while they set new precedents.
     Admittedly, this isn't nearly as wearable as any of their previous collections, but that's a good thing. Now that McCollough and Hernandez have been freed from their previous budgetary restrictions, hopefully they'll continue to push the envelope for womenswear. Ultimately, the reason why I (and everybody else) love Proenza Schouler is that no matter what design inspiration they tap, they always strive to answer a very difficult question about fashion: How do you stay chic and sane when you want to break every rule?

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Don't Get Too Attached

     These two Attachment coats from their Fall/Winter 2008/09 line is the exact reason why I shouldn't be allowed access to the Internet. Both of these coats are beautiful constructed, the color is unbelievable, and I'm sure that they'll look even better in person. The Archive is the only place nearby that stocks Attachment, so I'll see if I can't find some time to stop in and try things on (and consequently break either my heart or my wallet). If I find employment performing menial labor for some currency, this is definitely one of those things I'd be saving up for.

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Adventures with Ladies, Lard, and La Cienega

     Today was, by all measures, a resounding success. I actually managed to wake up—gasp!—and went through the usual motions: shower, scrub, contacts, blow dry, et cetera. The drive to Westwood was pretty great, not too much traffic. Music courtesy of a Hawaiian contact (known only by name, with no physical acquaintance having been made), leisurely hurtling down the 10 West. Our arrival was greeted by no fanfare, mostly because we didn't arrive so much as confusedly roll into the city. We attempted to locate Crystal, Sophia, and Brittany, but between Leslie and myself, we possess about as much navigational finesse as a rock rolling down a hill. It was certain we would reach our destination, although the questions of how and when weren't given nearly as much attention.

     After parking and meeting up with the three LAers, Brittany quickly left; a paper and a TA meeting prevented her from joining up with us. Well, sucks to her, because we had a fabulous—dare I say...glamarous?—time. Lunch at CPK (California Pizza Kitchen for those uninitiated in its honey dough ways or those who have never entered a gentrified urban neighborhood). I ordered a Diet Coke but was rebuffed in the most polite way possible.

     "Don't you hate it when they do that? You ask for Diet Coke and they go, 'Diet Pepsi?'"

     Sophia makes an interesting point. I was not in the wrong, per say. Operating under the assumption that Diet Coke was served—which isn't a crazy assumption, I'd like to add—I had simply ordered what I wanted. But the blue-bottled equivalent was adequate. Merely adequate.

     We tried shopping around Westwood, but it was a colossal failure. Well, only if you define success at shopping in terms of actually buying things. If you're willing to expand your definition to include ridiculing ludicrous product design and outrageous garments, then you could say we did pretty well. The gift shops around UCLA are laden with items that no one in their right mind would ask for, but are begging to be bought. Candy nipple tassles? 1,001 Weed Games? We tried our luck at American Apparel, but found things equally hilarious. Honestly, a mesh swimsuit? Doesn't the use of mesh negate the body-covering purposes of a swimsuit? Once again, AA manages to confound even the most flexible of minds.

     Sophia had the brilliant (or maybe devious) idea of heading down to West Hollywood and checking out the Marc by Marc Jacobs boutique. Of course I vehemently protested. For three seconds. Okay, two. Okay, I practically green-lit the whole damn thing. She was looking for the tote bag which they had run out of and I wanted the naked Selma Blair shirt in a small, but they were out of those, too. Luckily, Sophia and I reached a consumerist compromise. She picked up a deliriously cute silver necklace in the shape of a key, but the blade was replaced by a delicate little "MJ". Come on. Adorable. I rummaged through a bin of rings mindlessly and the clink-clink-clink was too Lagerfeld-esque to ignore.

     The two are meant to represent health and happiness, but I don't know which is which. Really, they're just fun little doodads and who doesn't love that? The face (symbol? glyph?) on the left one is pretty cool and the designs are fun, but subtle.

     I had held off buying any of the cashmere beanies when I visited the Fillmore boutique, and the solid grey one I had liked was sold out here. But the striped one started calling out my name. Well, it was more like I saw it and loved it, but that's pretty much one and the same. Congratulations are in order for my first beanie. Seriously. I've never found one I didn't look like a douchebag for wearing.

     And to top it off, my mom picked up siu yook (燒肉) for dinner. Anyone who knows me knows my inability to resist: (a) pork rinds, (b) fatty foods, and (c) crispy things. And this, this is the culmination of every Hong Kong boy's gastronomic fantasies. Roasted pork done in the real Cantonese style is, quite possible, the most perfect incarnation of rotisserie that any culture has produced. Oh, sure the French did plenty of cuisine, but the Cantonese just took it to its most logical and most delicious conclusion.
     My only regret is that there are no leftovers.

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Out of the Mold Modern

(JF & Son, Spring/Summer 2008)

     Thank god for Refinery 29 and for the many people in their employ who spend their time finding kick-ass stuff like this. Nowadays everyone is afraid of the term "Modernist", just because it's so passé to be one; people would much rather reflect on Modernism and critique it and talk about how we've progressed (or not). But if it was good enough for Virginia Woolf then it certainly is good enough for me.

     Comprised of Jesse Finkelstein and Robert Cordero, JF & Son is, by and far, some of the freshest work I've seen lately. I'm honestly surprised that I haven't heard more about them, but I suppose having only produced two collections limits the amount of press they get. Usually, when people invoke Modernism, it winds up being drab and self-deprecating and, more often than not, a bit conceited, as though there's this big joke about reality that we're all supposed to be in on. But rather than giving in to the cynicism, JF & Sons honestly tries to be Modernist, in the most intellectual sense of the word possible.

     The lines are clean, but never austere. The shapes, while body-conscious (which as the current wave of London designers have noted, is a bit played out of a phrase), actually make me want to say that they're style-conscious. And I'm not talking about style in the season-to-season sense, but in the greater scheme of personal taste and expression. Colors are not only restrained, but refined. Their Spring/Summer collection relies on off-whites and blacks with occasional pops of red and yellow for emphasis.

     As of yet, they don't list any stockists, but I'm sure that it'll be coming along soon enough. Shit this good always finds a way out and about.

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Resist Wrist

(Michael Young PXR-5 EL wristwatch, $90 pre-sale at Charles & Marie)

     Honestly, the Internet does not help make me less broke (except for menial writing assignments and endless searches for magazine internships that have yet to appear) and the folks at Charles & Marie are obviously in cahoots with other awesome websites that are hungrily lapping up every stray dollar I have. One of my big obsessions is watches of all shapes and sizes, but I find I have difficulty actually wearing them, due to complications arising from a thin (and slightly limp) wrist and a distaste for anything remotely shiny that looks like it belongs on a banker's wrist, not mine.

     This delicious number from Michael Young—a hard-to-Google designer whose own website does little to explain who is or what he does—comes in both brushed and polished steel (I have a soft spot for the brushed one, shown above), as well as more exotic (and expensive) black and gold versions with an adjustable wrist strap that comes in a variety of colors. Hell, you can even buy a pack of them for variety! What I love about Young's design is that it's design-conscious but blissfully unpretentious. The combination of stainless steel with a synthetic fabric strap creates a delicious tension between something utterly polished and something utterly utilitarian.

     While I could blather on and on about this baby, I'd really rather save my time scrounging for spare cash so I could get one for myself.

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Oh Thank Jesus!

It's back.

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