Leandra Medine's Blog, page 683

Chanel’s Métier d’Art Show in a Sentence

Chanel’s Métier d’Art show, which occurred today in Salzburg, Austria, served as an optimal proof of concept with its classically black tweed cropped jackets and matching skirts, the similarly endemic overcoats, elaborate and feminine white dresses topped with vaguely masculine black accents (see: Cara Delevingne closing the 86 look show) and — no, that’s not right.

Austria was the setting for a confluent show of four different collections that married a delicate bow to the imminent holiday season with a poignant shade of December red, to the Tyrol of yore in smartly executed, lederhosen-style short-shorts, and an obscurely militarized triad of models in the right shade of fight-for-me green to some form of Vatican swiss guard.

That’s not right either.

The hills! Are alive! With the sound! Of!

No.

You can take the garment off of Rue Cambon but you can’t take the…

What?

Never old, never new but always acutely alluring, there is something unflinchingly, relentlessly, distinctly Chanel about Karl Lagerfeld.

Can that say it all?

Okay, I think I’ve got it.

How could it be that such a piquant example of time-honored Austrian behavior, distilled using fashion, could unmistakably speak to the heart of a house so French, even the blindfolded could see from their American vantage point, that this hugely inspired, Austrian hug is the work of an electively Frenchman called Lagerfeld.

Images via Style.com

The Most Dangerous Time of Year

The joints that boss around your left and right feet, that shoulder your shin bones and act as hats upon your heels are no longer safe.

The most dangerous time of year has commenced.

But the perils that linger are not what one might assume them to be. (E.g. that CVS or your preferred prescriptive drug haven has decided to display its Easter baskets for the year 2017 now, causing you to assume you’re in the wrong year, so panic sets in; a mild stroke follows, expensive ambulance bill agony ensues.) Rather, December’s true hazards lurk like the monsters beneath our beds with outstretched arms and creepy hands, grabbing at our ankles, hoping we will trip.

Yes, trip.

Hasn’t it occurred to you that after all these years, the terrible thing that rests on its belly below your ruffled PB Teen duster never actually ate you? Or killed you? Didn’t even make a single ungentlemanly attempt at getting under your duvet with you? No. He merely caused you to trip.

But tripping is no laughing matter, especially in slippery December when we’re still high off the hubris of fall. For at least two months we wrapped our necks in scarves yet laughed in the face of a below-the-knee breeze, baring our ankles as though this were some kind of exhibitionist free-for-all at the community performing arts center. But let’s get it together, people. This is the Ice Age, and we can’t let our ankles go extinct.

So how do we protect them? How do we band together in these coming weeks, when friends will surely suggest such treacherous activities as ice skating or taking a walk? When pants remain cropped yet the shoes we previously paired them with offer no support should we step on snow-laden cobblestone cracks and lurch in ways that could break our own backs, not to mention our mothers’? What about the cold? Unless I forgot to check my email and missed some very important memo, insulated muffs have yet to be invented for our human fetlocks.

The only way we know how: with ankle boots. They will act as the preemptive casts to our not-yet-broken benders, the backbones of body parts that are very much not our backs, the masts of the flags that we’ll hoist which declare: “Ladies! (Bros!) We are not afraid!”

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It’s 3 o’clock. Do you know where your ankles are?

What Is Actually Good for You?

Say I were to eat, I don’t know, three vegetable fajitas (for argument’s sake, let’s define the inside of said fajitas as rich in broccoli, spinach, onions and carrot) followed by fried cauliflower and maybe a cooked yam topped with one choice marshmallow.

Am I, or am I not, retaining the nutritional benefits of the aforementioned vegetables in any capacity at all? Is this meal conceivably more healthful than a bowl of pasta? Is vegetable tempura a sound choice when held up against, I don’t know, a burger, or better yet: salted caramel from Morgenstern’s?

Bottom line: what is actually good for you? Asking for a friend.

Esther’s Picks: ASOS Choker and Lykke Li Pants

I just noticed that my inclination is always to begin a story with, “I remember…”

As humans, we tend to rely on quick clichés and familiar idioms in times of frustration. I’d very much like to challenge that inclination. I’d also like to see 2 Chainz and Willie Nelson collaborate on an album, but if the music industry has taught me one thing, it’s that I can’t always get what I want.

Now that that’s out of the way — I vividly remember first discovering the sweet music of Swedish artist, Lykke Li. Her sound was unapologetically pop, her voice haunting and imbued with a sense of longing. Catchy songs like “Little Bit” gave way to edgier hits like “Get Some,” and as Lykke Li’s sound progressed over the course of three albums, her style weathered its own evolution.

Her signature head-to-toe black ensemble — often completed by a wide-brimmed fedora — became a resounding source of sartorial inspiration. So, when & Other Stories announced that they were collaborating with Li on a line inspired by, “a nomadic need for a versatile wardrobe,” you bet your bottom dollar I hit it up.

The result, my friends, is in the bell bottom. I also took home a matching black camisole because together, they make the perfect uniform and can be worn to 99% of the events approaching this holiday season.

Yes, especially Becky’s Tim Burton-themed Bat Mitzvah party.

However, I don’t believe any v-neck ensemble is ever complete without a choker, which is where the real pick comes into play. The pictured black lace giving my neck a Victorian hug costs a cool $15 (that’s less than an Imax movie ticket) and I think it’s the bee’s proverbial knees. Then again though, I may just be watching too much Downton Abbey.

What I would give to hear Maggie Smith recite a Haiku…

Disco balls as feet

Ah, Ah, Ah staying alive 

John Travolta 

Acne coat, Topshop plaid shirt, cropped sweater from The Reformation

Confessions of a Coffee Non-Drinker

If you were looking at my Facebook profile page from 2004-2007, you would have assumed I was a big fan of Starbucks coffee given the large cup that accompanied unlit cigarettes and unhealthy amounts of bronzer in almost all of my photos. Truth is, if you looked inside the cup, you would’ve found water or more likely, Diet Coke. I achieved this high form of trickery due to peer pressure and a desire to look like an Olsen Twin. I’d ask for a spare cup, pour my beverage of choice in, pose for a photo, and *bam*, I was part of coffee culture too.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to like coffee. I always assumed it was one of those things you grow into, like dark chocolate (check) or blazers (check) or cleaning up after yourself (mostly check).

As Willow Smith once proclaimed, “I am me.” I’m not Willow, she probably drinks coffee, but I am me, the coffee non-drinker.

A small selection of things I am tired of hearing:

“We can go somewhere with tea! You drink tea, right?” — Nope, I don’t.

“How do you even wake up in the morning?” — Diet Coke.

“You drink Diet Coke when you wake up?” — Yes.

“That’s really bad for you, you know.” — I had no idea, thank you.

“You just have to get used to the taste.”

“Grow up!”

Invitations that require a lot of navigation and craftiness on my part:

Informal interviews

Meetings with professors

Weekend socializing when you don’t want a meal

Third dates

Mid-day breaks with co-workers

Things I am completely ignorant about:

How to order a latte

What a latte is

Ditto Americano, macchiato, espresso

The sixteen cafes between Bleecker and Mulberry and which one has the best coffee

If it really is “so much better in Europe”

If it’s worth it to buy your own espresso machine

Things I will never experience:

Flirting with a barista

Having my name spelled egregiously wrong on my coffee cup or the subsequent Instagram capture

Pumpkin spice

Hungover Sunday coffee dates

Finding out what my coffee order says about me

Don’t ask me on a coffee date, don’t include me in your 4 pm coffee run. Sometimes 22 is more like 14; I’ll be here with my soda pop and my dark (okay, milk) chocolate. I’m just a girl, standing in front of a Starbucks, asking it to love me.

6 Brain Breaks in Order of How Much Time You Have to Waste

If your boss was just hovering over your computer to show you something, then her phone rang, but you know she’ll be right back:

If you’re at your friend’s house and she’s taking a fast body shower but not washing her hair or shaving:

If you’re waiting for the L train (“Arriving in 2 minutes,” my ass) but weirdly have service and don’t mind laughing out loud in public:

If you never have enough time for those late night talk shows but what you do have is 4 minutes (kind of) for a break — you still need to keep working — and whatever you’re doing allows you to put headphones on and toggle between e-mails and this:

Finally, if you ate WAY too much stuffing last week and “literally only have 4 seconds” right now:

And if you have any others to share, please do. Clearly I’m not working either.

Image on the left shot by Ryan McGinely, image on the right via Oyster Magazine

Why I Wear Bad Pants

I posted a picture of myself wearing the photographed high waist blue jeans last week on Instagram. Accompanying the photo was a caption that read, “Case study: this is how all jeans should look right now.” I was also wearing a navy blue cashmere v-neck sweater over a white turtleneck and a pair of brown wedge boots. You wouldn’t have been able to identify my belly button if the fate of your life depended on it and I loved that. Almost as much, I should add, as I did the entire outfit.

Recently, someone commented on another Instagram selfie of mine (I was wearing an ivory turtleneck over a tunic and a pair of ripped jeans with gold sneakers) asking a fellow commenter if she thought I got dressed simply to live up to the Man Repeller alias. A conversation went on for about four exchanges until they decided my style seemed authentic enough to be as repulsive as Instagram makes it seem (which I took as a galling compliment) at which point, I was reminded of the deluge of comments that populated that first photo.

Overall, it garnered 7,242 likes and 306 comments. Some of them were incredibly complimentary and therefore reinforcing, though the ratio of those to the more negative — “I had to stop following her, this is too bad,” “High waisted and camel toe, never a good idea,” “I hope you don’t actually go out like that,” and my personal favorite, “Sometimes trying to not be cool is seriously just not at all cool in a very not cool way, but like an ‘OMG this is a dumb outfit that shouldn’t be worn by even the “hippest” person ever’ way” — was probably 1:3.

Which, frankly, is fine. More than fine. It’s part of the process. It’s expected. It’s important. It’s even welcome. Through every motion of building and maintaining a persona, there is supposed to remain a baseline understanding that when you throw yourself into the public domain, you hope that what you put out will stick but that of course, it doesn’t always.

Here’s the thing, though. I understand what sticks (outfits that look less disheveled, tend to include my wearing mascara and maybe a pair of earrings) vs. what doesn’t (high waist ill-fit jeans, baggy coats — the majority of the Man Repeller feed) and yet, I electively continue to put out what doesn’t. So I’ve been thinking about why and I’ve concluded that it’s because honesty on the Internet is important. And that sense of candor starts unilaterally.

I like — nay, love — these pants. They’re me. I know they don’t look good but I think they’re cool. They make me feel like a more interesting version of myself and that, to me, is what style is about: presenting a difficulty and attempting to unpack it or make sense of it. I can’t tell you exactly why I like them but I can sharply recall having never really cared for pants that do the things we’re supposed to expect of them: flatten our stomachs, tighten our asses, makes our legs look longer and leaner, yadi ya. Maybe that’s a function of my believing that fashion is not about what’s flattering and vice versa or maybe this is simply a matter of style. And the thing about style, like with everything else, is that if you believe in it, you have to be willing to fight for it.

Cyber Monday vs. Siberia

What would you rather talk about: Cyber Monday or Siberia? On the topic of Siberia, there is a book, which incidentally came out toward the end of October, called “Midnight in Siberia: A Train Journey into the Heart of Russia,” being discussed on Yahoo. I did not read it and as a result have no opinion formed.

On Cyber Monday, however, I can share the following visceral, if not vaguely antithetical reactions:

1. If I see one more tweet promoting percentage points off [insert expensive item that is still expensive but not as expensive as it was before here], I will publicly match the aforementioned percent off of my own head via self-amputation. This seems absurd considering the simple fact that I am the only one who will have to endure pain to bring this point/lesson home while the rest of my digital comrades go on shopping.

2. On the other hand, it’s just so hard to look away! Or talk about anything else! Or focus on anything else! When Shoescribe tells me shoes are 40% off and because it’s Cyber Monday, you can expect an additional 25% off, I have to wonder whether the answer to the age old question, “How many sneakers are too many sneakers” maintains a plausible/finite answer. And also, leopard print!

2a. If we’re talking reasons to defend Cyber Monday, 15% off* these socks is a really good one.

*I am such a hypocrite

3. According to Bloomberg, Black Friday sales were down 11% this year, totaling dollars spent on the infamous consumerist birthday to one billion. Does this make it our duty to match that amount with the day’s younger cousin, Cyber Monday, to ensure that it eclipses said older cousin? Just a thought. Feather breasts, anyone?

4. The first day back to work post-Thanksgiving is a frustrating reminder of your indolence. You said you’d go to the gym, you did not. You said you’d clean your closet. There is a mountain of sweaters (none of which include this) comfortably settled right next to your bed. You thought about a manicure and maybe treating yourself to a back rub but just a few short hours into the alpha-Monday, your shoulder blades feel like they are carrying the weight of your entire body and your nails are so brittle it is a true medical marvel they are even still attached to your fingers.

But don’t think about that. Don’t think about any of it. Instead, throw your some shade at yourself for having thought you might get through the most elaborate consumerist trap of the year and spend the money you said you wouldn’t. Or don’t! Simply let Shopping Cart Syndrome lead the way. We’ll get the ball rolling and as a team, share our respective list of Top 5 Wants (cue slideshow) in anticipation that you will share yours.

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I understand that I already requested this from you on Friday but I defer to point #3.

Sale Time is Here, But Not so Fast: Consider these Questions Before You Buy

Last May, Man Repeller suggested that you ask yourself five important questions before resolving to lose your fork to the soil that is a cash register. The powers that be are now speculating Black Friday’s power to eclipse any other sale season, which might lead to consumerist behavior so manic, so powerful, so downright gluttonous, one might begin to think we’re living in a pre-recessional 2008.

Just last Wednesday, in fact, Net-a-Porter’s site crashed due to unprecedented demand for discounts. It’s great — all of it — but with that excess spending come excess (and often otiose) stuff. So here are five questions to ask yourself before you dig your teeth in as initially posed last Spring. Come January 1st, you should feel confident that you appreciate all the tagged clothing still loitering in your closet.

1. Can you wear the garment in question at least three ways with the pre-existing contents of your closet? (I had to veto this for inability to answer yes. I did not, however, veto these.)

1a. From the same family is the question of whether you already have a garment that serves the same exact function, which is why I can’t go through with the purchase of effectively any pair of jeans. (Expect maybe these ones.)

2. Would you have bought the garment in question if you could have afforded it before the sale? (This cape is i-n-IN for that reason.)

3. Are you trying to dress a body that is not yours? Often times, I forget that I am not Emanuelle Alt. I mean, I don’t forget, but I do remember that low rise drop crotch pants just don’t do for me what they’ve done for her.

4. Are you sure this isn’t the FOMO spending? Fashion FOMO is a very real thing. I occasionally find that I’ve spent so much time on a given website that I don’t want to leave said site without feeling like I’ve satisfied a duty. This “duty” typically manifests as a purchase and leads to my buying something. Often, my laziness lashes out and I never return it, thus leaving me at the intersection of without money but with feckless loincloth. Sometimes, not always, it’s better to just walk away.

5. Are you trying to convince yourself you need something? You know, when you really, really love something, justification is rarely necessary.

With that said, F the rules! Here’s an extensive list of sales you should consider while you try to pull yourself out of yesterday’s food coma.

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Luisa Via Roma be like, “Take an extra 20% off merchandise that is already 50% off and feel good about your new Dolce and Gabbana heels.”

Forward by Elyse Walker is offering 50% off and there is a lot of Isabel Marant to go around.

30% all full price stuff at J. Crew and an additional 40% off all sale merchandi$$$e.

Matchesfashion and Moda Operandi both have you in mind with HALF OFF their spoils.

Another 30% off all styles at Asos with the checkout code TGIBF. There is a 0% chance I am not getting these jeans.

50% off at SSENSE.com. Hi, Valentino tangos.

15% off everything at Pixie Market, where it appears this dress is still in stock.

You can also get a thematic 30% off everything that is black from Nasty Gal. Emo.

Need Supply is doing its part, too, offering an additional 30% off all sale items with the checkout code EXTRA30. Not sure if that is a riff on my ability to obtain this dress for cheaper or also an allusion to the pounds added to my waist line last night.

Madewell be like, hey! Here’s 25% off your entire purchase with the code GIFTON. Here’s a question: will a tech-savvy mother in Connecticut one day name her son Gifton?

Shopbop is giving you a moderate 25% off your orders with the code GOBIG14. But you can also just peruse their expansive rolodex of sublime, already reduced merchandise.

The Corner, a sister site to Yoox where you can find so much Olympia Le Tan, is offering an extra 20% off sale merchandise with the code CYBER14.

Meanwhile, Yoox, too, is slashing prices like they’re necks and delivering an additional 20% off. This is precisely how I was able to secure a black Jil Sander coat that I have been thinking about since its $4,000 price tag first slapped me across the face last Fall. I paid $840 –which, I realize, is not cheap but you know, right, that when it comes to sales it’s not about the money you spend but rather the money you save.

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Now, by the rules of girlfriendhood, you should know that there is no greater feeling than that of sharing your recent purchases so, lay it on us! What in the good name of the Mayflower did you get/are you getting/do you need our consultation on?

How Thanksgiving Got Its Name

Thanksgiving is an opportunity for families to come together and text anyone not present about how bored they are, for cousins to spill milk and cry about it, for British uncles to feign turducken apathy and for aunts to fall off their gluten-free bandwagons. Everyone eats too much food, complains about it, swears off carbs forever, then gets a group-second-wind around 11 PM and eats too much again.

But really, the holiday is about giving thanks.

People like Thanksgiving because it’s not as consumer driven as the holidays that follow — it’s not corrupted by over-eager drugstores who start selling Valentine’s Day paraphernalia like, now. And for all of the moaning that comes with familial politics, everyone secretly enjoys sitting around that weirdly-early dinner table while grandma & co. rattle off why they’re glad to have passed their genes on to the surrounding team members.

It’s just awkward that people think the idea behind the holiday came before the holiday’s name. In a new Man Repeller Story Book, we explain how Thanksgiving actually got its name. See you at the corner of marshmallow yams.