Friday, May 22, 2009

wide-ranging curiosity.

The other day I was out to dinner with my husband when I realized that it was May 20th, and therefore a new VOGUE would be available for purchase. I have never wanted a subscription in fear of taking away the ecstatic moment of discovering a new edition. So, it is with this appreciative sentiment that I post these pictures of Sally Singer at her apartment in the Chelsea Hotel, taken by Todd Selby.

Over the years, I have noticed Singer's name in VOGUE, but I never took a serious interest in her contributions or her life story. These photos of her home make me curious. I need to know about this woman, what she's all about, who she really is. I did a little research on her life, read a few interviews. I am devoted to learning her style as an author and editor for my favorite magazine of all time.

What I learned is that Singer left high school early to attend beauty school in San Francisco. She knew how to make a few different hairstyles, but once she realized she was no good at waxing etc., she left to go to UC Berkeley, then Yale, followed by time spent as a book editor and writer, as a culture editor at British VOGUE, all before her position as a Fashion News/Features editor at American VOGUE. She grew up in Oakland, is surprised by her own career, and believes that fashion implies a lot more than clothes. There is something casual, natural, and elegant about Singer's persona. Subtle and alluring beauty, an undeniable intellect.

Not too long ago, my mother and I had a conversation about how a well-rounded education offers a diverse outlook on fashion. I have always felt that to be true. My mind races in countless directions, often from a passing glance at a garment of clothing, forming scenarios built around a specific setting, character, season, music. This imagery comes from reading, traveling,  my youth, the places I have lived...  According to Singer, "I always think people need to have a vision of fashion outside of themselves, and that should include a couple other things, too. It could be music culture. It could be anything, but it's good to bring a few things to the table before you get into the narrow world of fashion... Magazines reward wide-ranging curiosity and intelligence."

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


I could not believe it when I saw this picture posted on Garance Dore's website.  An entire tribute to Isabel Marant, and specifically the pants worn by this girl. Why? I have these pants. I love them! In fact I have the entire sweat suit, complete with a 3/4 puffed-sleeve hoodie. I remember when I got it, after many days spent laboring over new Isabel shipments and lookbooks forwarded to me by my favorite boutiques. It is always so difficult to decide what to get. When it arrived I tried to "fold" the items into my wardrobe so that my husband wouldn't get suspicious. It didn't work. He took one look at me and said, "that looks expensive." He's caught on. And here, months later, months after I made the decision to get these pants, I see my instincts confirmed not only by a genius fashion blogger (illustrator, photographer), but by a lovely Isabel Marant shopgirl. There you go.

p.s I got the Isabel at Heist on Abbot Kinney Blvd. in Venice Beach, CA. Great great place.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

WILLOW Australia

Amsterdam. 2004. Fourth of July weekend.
Side note: Isn't is strange to spend the 4th in
a foreign country? Or is it strange to celebrate
when nobody else is? Either way...
I have a memory of a favorite morning.
We were staying in an angular, bizarre hotel
room with purple walls (think Prince) and I
happened to wake up early. Very early. I didn't
want to go back to sleep, so I threw on a
summer dress, my favorite green heathered
cardigan that I stole from my sister (thanks K!),
grabbed the new VOGUE and headed to the park.
It was around 5am and the entire neighborhood
was consumed by a thick mist, not a fog, a mist.
I flipflopped my way down a path, nothing but
time on my hands. I came to a tree with a trunk
like a ladder. At the top there were multiple
chair-like branches, so I decided to climb up and
have a read. It was incredible. It was me, a few
joggers, and that refreshing space of nature in
the midst of the city. It was also one of those
moments where you think, if life's lead me here,
I must be doing something right.

The reason I mention this story is because
when I look at these clothes by Willow,
it reminds me that beautiful clothes should
be worn for mornings spent in trees with
slightly dirty feet and a magazine. There
are prescribed contexts for attire, but who
wrote those rules? Fancy dress in a tree:
no better place for it. Nothing should be so
precious in life that we can't enjoy it while
we've got it.

Willow is one more reason
I am dying to get to Australia.
I want to go and think I'm
never coming back.