...ramblings of a fashionable sociopath

Thursday, May 31, 2012

shoe game

A girl walks into your glance briefly for general assessment/threat potential. You scan the outfit, take note of accessories and critique the facade (i.e hair/make-up). If bland you move on. If interesting, or better yet, actually stylish you hone in on the SHOE GAME.
This is what separates the amateurs from the pros. This is how you tell if she "put on the first thing [she] saw" or wants you to think she did even though each detail has been meticulously planned (caveat: she may be a "top shelf"  whose closet is brimming with amazing-ness thus making any/every choice a killer).

Why do girls obsess over shoes? Many reasons I suppose. They are beautiful, often uncomfortable but oh so sexy, they are an expression of oneself as much as a car or a chic watch can be for a boy...they are art if done right. They make or break the outfit for those who give a shit about fashion.

But most importantly they do not age. Even when the face or body betray you and refuse to grab on to youth as much as you, your feet stay true. They do not gain weight, they do not wrinkle.. and thus a pair  of velvet hunter green wedge booties you knee-capped a girl on the street of Florence for retains it's value and ability to make you feel...beautiful. Shoes become vintage, never old

They are little pieces of art that have the strange ability to make you more confident...stronger...sexier...internally taller. They can influence the kind of day you will have, after all, a pair of worn in leather gladiators that feel like slippers have an inherently different undertone than those amazingly painful pumps that make your legs look nine miles long. A proper pair can seduce...can negotiate...can carry you through a disatser of a day. And when you see, nay FEEL, shoe envy of the girls scanning you when you walk into a room...well that's just the cherry.

Men may not understand, nor should they. But they may not judge when your closet consists of jeans, a few tanks and LBDs and one giant wall of shoes.
That's therapy.
That's girl crack.
That's purr-inducing happiness.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

L'eau du ciel

It has been pouring non-stop today. The weekend was soaked in rain as well. My favorite kind of weather...

Ever since I was little whenever it rained I grabbed my rain boots and ran outside. Even if for a minute I needed to be under the feel it on my skin. I used to walk around my block and hum, blissfully happy to be alone on the street when everyone else ran away.

The world gets so incredibly quiet when it rains. A quiet that can only be equalled by slowly falling night snow that covers everything in a plush blanket of soundproof snowflakes. I love that quiet...when all you hear is the teardrops hitting the pavement and your thoughts. Perhaps that is the reason that some loathe rain. To them it's gloomy..too cold, too murky.

For me it has always been a welcomed is strong enough to wash away one's greatest flaws...nothing man builds can withstand it when it is at its full saturates every thing exposed to it and makes it shine anew. And oh that post-rain smell...if only they could bottle that perfect crisp essence...

My favorite though will always be night rain...the one that rushes you off the city street into your warm apartment, urging you to light the fireplace, pour a glass of red and curl up next to him in complete happiness. The one that lulls to sleep and makes the bed seem like a haven never to be abandoned.

The one that smudges the world's edges a bit...and perhaps mine as well.

what's rain without a bit of trip-hop?? yeah, thought so

Thursday, May 17, 2012

New York...

Back to the city I adore.

A wedding...the MET (finally!!!)...kissing in Central Park...and truffled egg toast.

Sometimes one needs a big city to remember that this world is big and promising. It is not filled with people who live and die within one square mile.
New York is always a good time. How could it not be? You need not ever make plans will create your trip for you.

I got my skinnies on, my aviators and a camera. It's on.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012


I miss spring... yes I know you can't miss something that happens every year like clockwork especially DURING the time it is actually happening.

I miss the spring of my childhood. When you woke up one morning and you knew that the air changed. That it was going to be warm and sunny and colorful. That days would be filled with running along dusty city streets in brand new sandals until they wore out, eating loads of ice cream and literally bursting from energy and happiness. Days were long and fulfilled...pockets were full of petals and pebbles and gum wrappers...sleep was truly restful...

The world was never so big as it was then. It was never so full of promise. It was mine to discover.

I got nostalgic looking at these shots of young fashionistas...not so much because of what they are wearing (though yes, YES please) but because the "street style" often captures the sprit of the actual street.

                    The brand new oaks that endured the winter and burst through cement to proudly show off their vibrant foliage for all to admire.

                    The flowers that managed to persevere through a city winter and now bloom with such vigor it's almost gauche.

                    The sunlight that fills everything with golden light and illuminates every corner with new energy.

                    You can see in the way these girls dress that they feel spring. They are hopeful with the possibility of discovery...of hurried anticipation of this season...a season that could bring a new love, a new adventure to a foreign land...a new direction to their life.

When you live in a place that snows for 9 months and sneezes spring in one day before giving you two hot months of summer or a town where the seasons are basically a slight differential on the humidity scale you miss out on that change...that moment when seasons TURN. When, although you definitely know better, you want to run out into the street and run as fast as you can, breathing in the world around you...reveling in the fact that you are young and still believe the world to be a good place.

That is what I miss.

I also miss wearing actual clothes instead of the same drab uniform every single day.
I wish I had time to play with fashion like I used to...I wish I had more places to go where I was allowed to play with fashion. Someday I guess.

I mustn't complain. This is only temporary and New York is only two weeks away. I'll get My Spring then...