March 2007 Archives

What goes around, comes around, right? It's a HUGE cliche, I know, and it was one even before JT sang it so nicely. But listen, this is my first real moment of seeing trends I wore as a young one coming back around. Let me take a moment to extoll, and sigh about my age.

I'm not against the leggings trend, like so many are. They're comfortable, and can be cute, if worn with good boots or flats, and a dash of prudence. In 1986, when we first dressed that way, we covered our tushes! Not only do I not want to see your panty line, or your thong, chances are, even if you are super skinny, leggings won't really do it for your ass. Cover that thing! I've mentioned my love of Steve Alan shirt dresses before, and I will add long sweatshirts, (loathe as I am to promote them) from American Apparel to my list of appropriate legging wear.

On that note, I noticed that Katayone Adeli is back, with a lovely little line called K.A.7. She has the perfect sweater dress for leggings; long, slightly shear, very flattering, palest pink merino wool. They also have her trousers, which were the best pair I ever owned. Welcome back!

But my real reason for this posting is in the name of revival! While at aforementioned American Apparel last week, I saw these head bands behind the counter. They were thing, and ribbon like, and came in lots of great jewel tones, for the bargain price of 3.50. I got two! One in red, and one in a lovely caramel. I have very dark hair, and I love them. But I have a tiny head, and they do tend to slip. Yet they remind me of a recent trend, that now seems never to have happened.

Do you remember the Bumble Band? For a moment in the late '90s, early aughts, it was THE hair accessory. I think, (though correct me if I am wrong) that SJP even wore them on Sex in the City. They were thin, satin, bra strap-like bands, complete with adjustable clasp. They came in very few colors; I had one in black, and a coveted lavender, from the Seventeen Magazine beauty closet. My friends in college where constantly trying to swipe them. Made by Bumble & Bumble, they dressed up a sloppy pony tail, and were pretty sexy for a headband. Bumble made limited batches, but the bands were quickly knocked off, and showed up at Ricky's, Urban Outfitters, and if memory serves correctly, maybe even the Gap! So out they went, with the black stack heeled boots!

Recently, Amanda Peet has been sporting on Studio Sixty. But a Google search returned no results. So for now I'll have to stick with my new, thicker, less elegant version.

There is an interesting character study in last week's issue of the New Yorker about Harley Lewin, an entertainment lawyer turned counterfeit hunter.

Many people feel counterfeiting, especially in fashion, is something of a victimless crime.

All I can say is this: I was the victim of a heinous counterfeiting scam. It is a day that will go down in infamy in my heart. Here's what happened.

For my graduate school graduation, a well meaning family member bought me a black nylon Prada bag. (Those of you that know me, know, that this family memeber could not have been my mother, who objects to expensive nylon, and knows her Prada from her Miu Miu.) It came wrapped in a box, in a clear plastic bag marked Prada, with tags on it.

I didn't give it a second thought. There was no way in the world I was going to carry the thing. A light went off in my head. I would return it to the Prada store, and get something ridiculous, like a cell phone case, or a coin purse. Fun!

One beautiful spring day I traipsed down to SoHo. I stopped to return some stuff to Bloomies, and to Coach. And then, with an air of frantic anticipation, I hopped into Prada. I flowed down the stairs to the returns department and waited my turn.

"I'd like to return this please. It was a gift, so I don't have the receipt." I said, sharing a knowing glance with the chic girl working behind the counter, one that said, I would never carry this, and of course, neither would you.

She picked it up gingerly, in her manicured hands, and took it out of it's plastic shell. She turned it up and down, and around. And then, oh the humiliation! She smiled gently at me. The Prada girl SMILED! I knew something was very wrong.

"I'm so sorry. This isn't one of our bags. They never come in plastic like this." She said in a gentle voice. She slid it back to me, politely.

"Oh my GOD! I'm so sorry!" Picking up the thing, I fled out of the store. They had killed me with kindness! I had tried to return a fake! How could I have been so foolish. The bag was a dull nylon, not a rich shiny satin nylon. It had a cheap, twisted, handle. The plate, seen against the gleaming real ones in the store, was large and vulgar. And it came in a plastic bag! Even bags from J.Crew have cloth bags!

I ran all the way the home, only stopping to call my mother for consolation. Had I been set up, made a fool of? My cheeks burned.

After I got home, had a glass of water, and settled down, I thought about the situation. I felt way worse for my FM then I did for myself. I am sure my poor family member had gotten the thing on ebay, and had been tricked. This person bought the bag on the good faith that it was real. (In fact the picture above is pretty similiar to the one I was given. I pulled it off ebay this morning.)

I stuffed the bag in the back of my closet. I thought about giving it to one of RC's niece's as a gift. Both are young girls, and they would probably love it. But then I didn't want to pass the taint along. What if someone called them out on it? If it was mortifying for me, what would it be like for a ten year old? I eventually threw it away. I didn't know what else to do.

Everybody has at least one thing that gives their lives a little hit of joy. I'm not talking finding a bag of gold, or getting a long over due promotion, or selling a TV show to a network joy. I'm talking a little joy to turn an ok day into a great one. For some people, it's that latte from the good place, two blocks out of the way, but still in the correct direction of the subway. Usually you don't go their because you're in a rush. You mean to, but the cat puked, and then you couldn't find your other shoe. But today you are running early and it is the first warm work day of spring. So you stop, and you even splurge a little on a croissant that actually looks and tastes like a croissant, and not a cresent shaped, flakey roll. (There is a difference!) And instead of cursing New York, like you did last week, in the freezing wind, you are happy to live here, where you can get a croissant almost as good as the ones in Paris.

I think one of the things that makes me happiest in the course of my day is my cup of tea. Only one other person on all of earth makes it as well as I do, and that is my friend Rosie, in London. In fact, when she is in New York, I make her make all my tea.

Ok, how hard can it be to make a cup of tea? It's pretty fool proof. You've got to hand it to the English. The tea bag is pretty self-explanitory. But, truly, it is not so easy to make my perfect cup of tea.

Firstly, I drink PG Tips, an English brand of tea. I don't drink it because I am pretentious (though I may be.) In England, it is really cheap, actually, the equivalent of the insipid Lipton you get at the diner here. I drink it because it is strong enough to send a horse to the moon. It's like coffee, it's so strong. And I find it very hard to drink it straight. Indeed, drinking a cup of PG Tips uncut is like drinking bong water with a dash of hay. Bitter and nasty! And like coffee, if you are not used to it, it will give your stomach paroxysms. So this is where things get tricky.

Like a great cake, a great cup of my tea is all about proportions: milk, tea, and sugar. Even the picture on the PG Tips box seems to have milk added to it. I like about two teaspoons of sugar in the raw. Rosie, when she makes my cuppa, halves the sugar. She, a proper brommie, is adamantly against ANY sugar in tea, but she knows I am a foolish American, and thus indulges me.

The microwave is the perfect way to make one cup of tea. You can figure out just how long until the water is very hot but not boiling (which scorches the tea.) In my microwave, the perfect time is two minutes. I put a cup filled 3/4 with distilled water, 1 tea bag, and that sugar in the microwave for two minutes exactly. Then, as soon as I take it out, I sniff it. The tea should smell a tiny bit bitter. Then take the tea bag out, and add milk, until the tea is a lovely caramel color. I give it a stir, to make sure the sugar is nice and mixed, and not waiting for me at the bottom in a sludge. (Ick!)

Then I sit back down, and enjoy. And that makes me unaccountably happy for the rest of the day.

So I am writing this book, a YA novel, if you must know. And it happens to take place in London in the 1870's. For research, I have been very reliant on the treasure chest that is The Dictionary of Victorian London. It has all sorts of contemporary articles on every subjects, from charity to neighborhoods. Lee Jackson, the site's proprietor, is my hero.

Yesterday I found this advice on skincare, which I thought I would share:

Secrets of Beauty.

You must well understand the nature of your skin in order to keep your good- looks.
If you have a dry skin, you cannot treat it as you would an oily one. If it is a flabby one, it requires quite different treatment from a firm one. But, whatever it is, it is necessary to be on your guard against the cosmetics that are sold, which corrode and coarsen, and even roughen it with horrible little white pimples, which nothing can cure.
Spring, river, and rain water seem to me the first and best of all cosmetics, excellent for every skin. The rather oily juices of melon and of cucumber suit dry skins. Strawberry-juice is good for greasy skins. An infusion of lavender or of marjoram will give tone to a soft skin.
Nevertheless, one must not overdo such remedies. They should never be used daily, [-269-] at the cost of losing their effect after a time.
All treatments should be interrupted for some days from time to time. Our bodies quickly become accustomed to medicaments of all kinds, which then cease to be efficacious.
A faded face (dry skins fade the soonest) will regain some freshness by using a lotion of which the following is the recipe. This lotion softens the epidermis:-
Boil some crumb of bread and roots of mallow in filtered rain-water. When the water is a little reduced, strain it through a clean white cloth, then add a good proportion of yolk of egg and some fresh cream. Stir it well, and perfume it with orange-flower-water.
This lotion has to be made fresh every time it is used. It does not do to apply it even the next day, as it will have turned sour.
Plantain-water is equally to be recommended.