Monthly Archives: March 2010

The It Brit

If you know me, you will quickly notice I am unapologetically OBSESSED with Woody Allen. Caps are necessary. FromHannah and Her Sisters to Manhattan Murder MysteryStardust Memories and everything in between. In Vicky Cristina Barcelona (my personal fave from this decade… thus far!) it’s hard not to notice sizzling Penelope Cruz but even more enigmatic is the quiet and neurotic character played by Rebecca Hall. I am quick to jump to the conclusion that she’s the female “Woody Allen” stand-in.  However, in this stunning photoshoot that caught my eye while flipping through Vogue Italia, she’s anything but a ball of nerves. Seriously so lovely.



Filed under Momentary Muse

A makeshift shrine to Miuccia Prada

Seriously bonkers. As in, I want everything.


Filed under Maybe I'm A Model

In which I bow down to Miuccia Prada

Pretty sure no words are necessary.


Filed under Uncategorized

The Hell’s Kitchen Flea

Nothing can replace the rink-a-dink Fairfax Flea Market for me. Held weekly each Sunday on Melrose and Fairfax, it is a treasure trove of vintage bits and baubles and whimsical crafts galore. If you’re in LA you gotta get with it, hit up the Jet Rag dollar sale while you’re out. Anyway, in last weekend’s GLORIOUS SUNSHINE (Oh weather above 50 degrees, how I’ve missed your touch) I walked to my neighborhood flea market. Smack dab in the middle of midtown, I was surprised at the eccentric finds. Things I liked: vintage leather bags a plenty, a bevy of costume jewelry including rad lucite bracelets, a decent amount of floral dresses. I did not like: prices are steeper than what I’m used to paying. Bartering tips would be greatly appreciated.

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Filed under Vivre Ma Vie

Kate’s Balenciaga Induced Panic Attack

This morning Elizabeth‘s post on Balenciaga shoes stopped me in my tracks. I jumped at the chance to message pictures to my Balenciaga confidante, Kate. Though we both are apt to wax poetic on Nicolas Ghesquiere, nothing for her has been able to top SS08’s gladiator heels. Until now. Below is her reaction, because I couldn’t put it better myself.

“i was having a normal morning. i’d responded to a few emails, made coffee when THIS SHOE APPEARED IN MY FACEBOOK INBOX. i stumbled to the kitchen for a paper bag because i suddenly found MYSELF UNABLE TO BREATHE. steam was accelerating out of all facial orifices and i was beginning to smell the sizzle of fried brain : KANDINSKY COLOURS. VAN DER ROHE LINES. LATE 70S WEIGHT AND SHAPE. everything has changed, and the whole world has become bright, shiny, and new. i am a baby again. thank you, Tanya Brown. thank you, nicolas ghesquiere. i am so happy i could die.”

Images via

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Filed under Maybe I'm A Model

Cue The Confetti

Sundays in New York. Lately I’ve been taking advantage of the early matinees at the IFC, ’cause they’re playing French crime films and leaving the rest of the day open to exploring. In the past handful of Sundays, we’ve conquered Slash! Paper Under The Knife, the exhibit at the Museum of Art and Design, spent an afternoon rummaging through junk shops in Bushwick, and two weeks ago, celebrating the Chinese New Year on Mott Street. Still picking the confetti out of my hair. Photo credit goes to Spike.


Filed under Vivre Ma Vie


If I was that sort of film snob that chose movies by their titles, then Klute probably wouldn’t stand a chance. Instead I choose movies based on what Netflix recommends to me. Side note to Netflix: you get me. I like this. Somehow you know I’m into visually striking, cerebral 1960s foreign films? What? Anyway, Klute’s 1970s New York oozes dirty glamour, A cornucopia of high class hookers and sweaty club scenes, sequined maxi dresses and feathered hair. I mean, C’MON! If anything, an important lesson learned: Jane Fonda totally brings it when playing a sex worker. Also see Barbarella. So in summary, full of awesome.

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Filed under Out At The Pictures