the genius of the pencil skirt

Above, Mouret (of course), the prophet of the sleek silhouette.

I am so excited for fall. And it reminds me how sick I am of the boho skirts and tank tops and flip-flops. I know the 100+ degree weather demanded it. And I've done it. But I am so tired of it. I think lots of people are. We're all ready to be inspired again.

It's the first time in a while that I feel like I'm 'back to school' shopping... I so clearly remember the day - natch, week - before school in 7th grade, carefully arranging my Aeropostale flight jacket (blue wool with brown leather sleeves), new pair of jeans and red chunky sweater on my bed, in anticipation of wearing them all for the first time. (Of course, it was 75 degrees the first day of school and the entire image had to be redesigned at the last minute).

So it's August and I'm already fighting the shopping public of New York City for the last Banana Republic pencil skirt.



I repeat, it's August.

So I buy the wide leather belt in black, because I know how fast that's going to sell, and I know that the $25 gift card burning a hole in my wallet needs to return to its maker. But the skirt? The perfect skirt that hugs the thigh-hip curves without accentuating them, the one with the belt loops made specially for my new purchase? The one that combines sophistication ansd sexiness, that suits a man-tailored white shirt, that makes me feel like an early-90s Sharon Stone mixed with a perfectly-poised Katherine Hepburn? But it's wool. I can't buy wool when it's this hot out.

I keep thinking about this skirt. So I go onto bananarepublic.com to finally cave in, and it's gone. GONE! Not even on the website anymore. I enlist Mom, the true retail expert, who finds the one remaining skirt in the entire city that's not a size 14. Bravo, mom. I love you. And owe you $88 bucks.

Now all I need is a new blouse and a pair of shoes. The genius of the pencil skirt - you have to buy an entirely new outfit to wear with it.

Illusions

I don't know if anyone actually reads this; if you are and you do, I apologize for being such a crappy blogger. But sometimes it feels like doing homework, especially if I'm just doing it for myself - then it's like having a video out for too long; the mere thought of getting up and returning it is too stressful to even consider.

This struck me as too funny not to post. I'm blaming it on the heat.


Cleaning out the drawer in the sideboard with all the leftover wedding crafts items (construction paper from placecards, jordan almonds I decided not to serve, little round tulle things I was convinced I needed after reading Martha Stewart about a year ago), and I found this hair comb I didn't use.

I really liked it, very atomic 50s, don't you think? It didn't match with the dress and kept flopping over in my hair, so it stayed in the drawer.


I then looked at the tag and noticed the company is called Illusions Bridal. Now I know that there's a type of veil fabric called an illusion veil. But the name of the whole company? If a woman has to start creating illusions on her wedding day, that's kind of sad. Especially if the illusion is that of happiness - or beauty - or that of the marriage itself.

And if you're wearing the piece pictured below, what kind of illusion are you trying to create?