Leandra Medine's Blog, page 743

Three’s Company: Your Saturday Review

Let there be color.

The problem with watching the future Fall/Winter season during the current winter season is simply that no one wants to look forward to large coats and big boots while they’re in them, essentially by requirement, unless they can be approximated immediately. And particularly with this season, where collections are so about the pursuit of warmth, you might even begin to believe that like a climatic anomaly, we are actually being deprived of the relatively imminent Spring/Summer season.

So if that is the case, let there be color. And if you’re looking for color, there’s no further place to look than the dynamic trio that functioned as the meat of Saturday’s show roster.

Prabal Gurung has become a paladin of the red carpet but his Fall 2014 collection proved a proficiency elsewhere: in luxurious, richly-crafted sweaters and neck-paralyzing scarves. Gurung created a unique dichotomy by smartly, not sloppily coupling the very thick heavy upper-halves with light-weight, elegant thigh-baring high-low skirts and bringing a faint hint of the spirit of a traditionally Indian fabric color, orange, to the collection. His more stream-lined garments, like a black blazer, featuring unexpected but well-welcomed contrast rucheing and the final gowns proposed the novel idea of trying a turtleneck for gala season.

Where gowns are not concerned (though the iterations of an Angelina Jolie slit are), Altuzarra continued to champion a very distinct brand identity without allowing his clothing to become predictable or stale. In fact, the collection provided a deep and heavy sigh of relief thanks to his cool use of bright color and quirky piping. The signature Altuzarra unfolded as fine wool knee-length dresses and suits, replete with fringe akin to the kind he championed for Spring. He similarly revealed an update on the mules of last season and placed his stamp on the knee-high boot, mid-length skirt combination injecting new experiments of his own, like a dress and several blouses made from yarn.

Also of note, and I’ve been seeing this a lot: evidently, it is no longer en vogue to wear coats that do not conceal the totality of your hands.

Alexander Wang always makes me think. Last season, it was because of his cotton, pajama-style button downs literally buttoned down and this season, it was because of his impossible-yet-executed boot mules (bules?) and the couple of silk blouses that hearken back to last season’s pajamas but don’t reveal that golden triangle of skin remain concealed with a counter silk.

The show opened to the sound of a purported thunder storm and then his women began emerging from backstage. His boots were strong, like his women, replete with leather rigid as a tree bark. The slick comb-overs and yellow-painted brows on the models created this ironic, slightly meta sense that super models are aliens (and according to Wang, ones that oscillate on a conveyor belt). Though of course, if that’s the case, his urban grey utility dresses, slightly Western suede jackets, thick knits and bright coats make that notion all the more viable.

Meet the Cool Dudes Behind Public School

Dao-Yi Chow and Maxwell Osborne of the menswear line Public School are cool, calm, collected. They evoke the type of chill that, when faced opposite of it (say, during an interview) you begin wonder if you yourself have always had a nervous tick or if it’s something new. But their breed of mellow is one with thought behind it, cerebral without causing a headache — which is exactly how I’d describe their clothes.

I had the pleasure of sitting down with them just a week before their show, and despite the insanity that was surely brewing behind the scenes at their garment district showroom, Chow and Osborne managed to be totally zen.

Amelia Diamond: How did you pick up your sense of style?

Dao-Yi Chow: I was probably in junior high, going into high school, and I was really into music videos at the time. Especially the hip hop ones. They were really big for me. I remember the styling so well — it was such a predominant part of those videos. I would consume the music the same way I would consume the style.

Another big thing at the time was collecting vintage Ralph Lauren — it was a whole subculture.

AD: What were some artists you remember watching?

DYC: NWA I clearly remember…I didn’t really like the music, but stylistically they were such a departure from what was happening on the east coast. There was also an artist named Grand Puba, and this group called Zhigge.

AD: What about you, Maxwell? Is that how you got into fashion?

Maxwell Osborne: No…I was into music but definitely not that involved. For me dressing and buying clothes was definitely something I always loved. I was in the arts and I took art classes, but I never really did anything in the arts. Then, when I started my first job working retail at Tommy Hilfiger, I actually took a liking to understanding the garment. I’d be folding something and then think, “Oh wow, this is interesting.” Then I started sketching and doodling and realized, “I kind of love this.” Then I got an internship at Sean John, which lead into a full time job, and then I kept growing from there.

AD: That’s where you two met, right? 

Both: Yeah.

AD: So when you guys are designing, do you sit down and decide on a theme or are you endlessly inspired by different things? How do you merge two minds, two different perceptions of what’s cool?

DYC: What we think is cool is usually the same thing. That’s probably the easy part. Max and I are attracted to the same things but we might see it differently. The challenging part — and what is ultimately the creative part — is figuring out how to express both our takes through the Public School glasses, if you will.

AD: What are those glasses?

DYC: You know, I think Public School is first and foremost — from a color palette — always really dark for us. Black is such a powerful tool. People look at it as a lack of color but for us it’s so much more. You can hide behind black or stand out in black.

New York City is such a good representation of the color black. There are so many people here that you can be completely anonymous if you want, but there is also the ability to really do something different and new and stand out from the crowd… So those two things are really inherently part of the Public School look. The city’s just a constant muse for us, and our experiences and our love for New York, of sort of this relentless energy and this attitude — we’re always trying to put that back into the garments. We have this design mantra about finding perfection in imperfection, so something about it is always off.

We also take a lot of cues from womenswear and tried to inject that into menswear, which to us had previously been feeling sort of cut and dry.

AD: It’s interesting that you started taking cues from womenswear, because we always talk about “borrowing from the boys.” What was it that you saw in womenswear that you wanted to inject into your line? 

MO: Women have the freedom to be risk takers. They can be like, “I want to do a full-on jumpsuit,”  and its fine. But then for menswear, it’s always been like: jacket, shirt, pant, jacket, shirt, pant. You know? So when we say “taking cues” from it, we’re trying to bring to light that a man can be a little bit more dolled up. He’s not jumping out of the window with this crazy style — he has his own boundaries, but in those boundaries he can still be a risk taker.

AD: What was the inspiration behind this season?

MO: This season for us is the new frontier. It’s the new way we see  modernism, it’s how we see the future man dressing. When you see the collection it might feel classic or seem older to you, but the silhouettes themselves are new, and it’s those little tweaks that are just really inspiring for us this season.

AD: Did you see Her? It was set in the future, yet they are dressed kind of ’70s. I think it is so interesting — this idea of modernized reinterpretation of an old classic.

MO: Well we consulted on that film thats why.

AD: You did?

MO: No.

AD: Ha. Well, I remember thinking that was such smart way to approach it, rather than having…moon boots.

DYC: Right. Well, the deeper concept that we have is looking at things people would perceive one way but it really turns out to be something else, even sort of morale-wise. If there’s a really a big difference between old and new, good and bad — that’s how we started the conversation. It’s these two extremes with us, two dichotomies and asking what’s the grey area in between the black and the white.

You know how, when you see a figure dressed in black you automatically think that that’s the bad guy, versus when you see someone dressed in white they’re automatically the good guy. We explored that this season.So we’re not reversing the roles but instead blurring those two lines and letting the people perceive it as they may.

AD: What do you think about the concept of Man Repelling, coming from two two guys who have an eye for style?

MO: What’s interesting is that recently I find the more revealing stuff less sexy. I like a baggier fit on women, and when women wear men’s silhouettes. That’s sexier to me than somebody wearing totally tight clothes. That’s been really new to me, and I think most people would think that’s a repellant.

AD: That’s a recent thing for you?

MO: Very recent.

AD: What brought about that change?

MO: I don’t know, maybe because internally we’ve been toying with us getting into womenswear…

DYC: To Max’s point, I think our definition of what’s sexy is really far from the traditional American idea. It’s definitely is more about confidence and style than anything else. It’s about women knowing their own shapes and body and what works for them. It’s all about how you wear it and how it makes you feel. It should make you feel comfortable, because then you can really pull anything off.

AD: Do you have anything else you want our readers to know? Can be totally random.

MO: If we ever come to your house, make sure you have baby wipes. I need them for my sneakers.

AD: Okay. We’ll have Man Repeller stocked. Last question: do you guys get nervous before showing?

MO: It’s not really nervous…it’s more like, just a little scared. But for me that’s always a good thing because it’s important to shake up the body.

AD: They say to be complacent is the worst.

MO: Exactly.

**Public School shows Sunday, February 9th at 11 AM. Check back here shortly after for pics of the new show and HELLO, let us know what you think.

Another One Bites the Ice

If I could choose one word that could successfully summate Friday, the word would be eyebrows. I might gloss over the various stringy, messy and predominantly blond comb-overs but in the only place where clothing was not concerned, it was, as they say, “all about the eyebrow.” We’ll get there though — first, show notes.

Starting with one Peter Som.

The vibe was Margot Tenenbaum marries Alexa Chung, hightails it over to Portobello Market to accrue a wide selection of vintage leopard furs, pairs them with the most majestic Chelsea boots (compliments of one Mr. Louboutin) and asks Peter Som if he could please, please, pretty please, infuse his signature wit, taking into account their inherent, respective aesthetics, everywhere else.

Som is always very good at dressing a woman like she errs on the side of playful though never compromises her sense of feminity. Where he really won with this collection was in his closing black based floral gown-style skirts that appeared as the finale in a beautiful gradation from innocent to experienced and also included feather peplums. The smart layering of knee length, short sleeve trenches with long sleeve, slightly longer shirt dresses was a theme that ran parallel with several subsequent collections.

At Jason Wu, I had to question my ability to call myself a woman. Isn’t that always what a strong designer does? Hone in on what he or she does best and render what you can do obsolete — no matter, ultimately, how good it is outside the confines of a runway. The palette encompassed a selection of muted colors — brown, putty, teal, faded, deep purple and the clothes told a consistent story that started with shin length, lightweight silk and velvet skirts paired with large sweaters and turtlenecks and continued with cool, waist length shearling coats against longer, more streamlined masculine coats as coupled with pants that are seemingly designers for the world’s tallest women.

Eyebrows ran plenty at Rebecca Minkoff, paired with dark, plum colored lips. Her clothes were easy on the eye, as they always are, and evinced that sense of, I can walk out of here in these clothes and feel entirely comfortable. It’s been impressive to watch Minkoff grow her empire and allow for the clothes to speak to her personal trajectory. This collection took a turn for the more masculine, implementing boxier coats and forgoing the wrath of darting. There were jumpsuits and swing-shaped cropped trench coats as well as a two pair of suede drop crotch trousers I like to believe she designed with myself in mind.

At Rag & Bone, Marcus and David played with brown, — another salient motif this season — splattering it across white jeans and jackets. There were also hints of army green and a darker hue of the same color and they did not omit a generous pop of red in the rainboot-cum-it shoes that spectators likely wished they were wearing then and there.

The most fun details came care of the shearling mules and the embroidered bomber jackets inscribed with the names of the models who wore them. Arguably my favorite styling technique, though, was a more insouciant one from within. See, there were thermal tights worn under culottes and lengthy skirts that hearkened way back to my tenure as a Yeshiva Day School student. And there’s nothing like the spirit of modesty and a deep sense of will-to-survive in the wake of frigidity to make a comment on modern, forward-thinking fashion.

BOOM SHAKA LAKA. TTYL!

Sochi, Eat Your Heart Out

We’re not so different, Olympians and Fashion Weekers. Sure, they’re in Russia and we’re currently in New York. They’ve been in physically demanding training from dawn ’til dusk whereas we have…not. But still, if you think about it, we’re all just individuals coming together at the same time, same place for the same goal. They want to win, we want to see clothes. And all of us will ski down icy, snow covered slopes to do just that.

Zimmermann

The models at Zimmermann wore dark lips, dark brows, and dark ribbons tied around their necks. For the most part their feet were clad in black socks and heavy-soled lace up shoes, meaning that the clothing in between head and feet looked consistently 90s despite new shapes and only a smattering of plaid. Two coats stole the show: a calf-length houndstooth menswear cut, and an unexpected camel coat with a blood orange print. The final looks leaned slightly goth, while the closing number took a sharp left turn into Downton Abbey territory. A stretch? Maybe. But all athletes need to stretch and this, as I said earlier, might as well be Sochi.

Sally LaPointe

Man do I love me a lady in a turtleneck, even more so when the neck in question transitions from day to night to fur sleeves. The Sally LaPointe woman this season is chic as shit with with serious swagger, and if I don’t find a way to immediately approximate the look with the slightly cropped black tank and long, floral skirt (with POCKETS) then I’ll just spend the next few months crying into a mirror while trying to copy the models’ perfectly messy low-ponies. Sally nailed it.

Cushnie et Ochs

Karolina Kurkova opened the show, guns blazing in a strapless, lace-trimmed black dress with a ten gallon hat atop her head — Cushnie et Och’s subdued answer to the rhinestone cowgirl. But before she started her focused walk that would lead an army of sexy (but never overtly so) women, the room was filled with a knee-deep fog, either foreshadowing that this might possibly be a body-conned homage to the Wild West (if the fog was meant to simulate dust?) or, perhaps, it was simply continuing the whole night club trend. It didn’t end up looking like either so WHO KNOWS.

As for highlights, there were two: a heavy black coat with thick fur cuffs and a dramatic peaked collar, and on the lighter side, a white dress with precariously placed squared-cups. It’s not for the faint of heart, but I tip my own ten gallon hat to the woman who pulls it off.

Nonoo

Misha Nonoo’s fall collection is a bit more grown up this season. Where her spring/summer collection had zero black, this one introduced the dark shade only three looks in. A similar lavender (though perhaps it’s a tad more blue) from Misha’s spring show re-appeared, however, by way of a collarless coat with white fur trim.The vibe was well-tailored sportswear meets the workforce, and even Leandra said that the clothes made her wish she had a proper office job, to which I suppose she means one that has mandatory rules about wearing pants and covering belly buttons and what not. Still, while the Misha girl may have gotten herself a desk job, there’s a slight hint that she’s setting her alarm clock to catch 5 AM waves.

Fast Forward Friday

Written by Sophie Milrom 

JFK once said that “those who look only to the past or the present are certain to miss the future.” Dwelling on the past is human nature. We scrutinize, romanticize and often ruminate over events and people that have already come and gone. But it’s futile to dwell on things that can’t be changed, so focusing on what lies ahead is a better use of our resources.

Once a week, people all over the World Wide Web indulge themselves in what once was. Every Thursday everyone seems eager to remind me how much fun they had in 2001 or how tan they were in 2007. I frankly don’t see the point in “throwing back.” It’s not that I don’t care about my friends and Lena Dunham (the only celebrity I follow); I’m just much more interested in where they’re going than where they’ve been.

That’s why I propose Fast Forward Fridays. Inspiration is so much more interesting than nostalgia. I’m pretty sure the CEO of Pinterest would agree. In all seriousness, social technology is used for the purposes of connecting. And watching people comment on each other’s old summer camp photos feels a lot like sitting in a café eavesdropping on two girls talking endlessly about their ex-boyfriends: boring.

At the beginning of yoga it’s common to set an intention for the class. Even though mine are normally generic and we don’t even say them out loud, explicitly making that goal explicit seems to help it become reality. If even a fraction of social media activity was aspirational instead of reminiscent, a lot of potential could be unlocked. Public accountability is the premise of Weight Watchers. This is like goal watchers.

Here are five examples of potential Fast Forward Friday posts:

(1) you’re hoping to get a promotion at work: take a picture behind the desk of a corner office

(2) doing a vegan cleanse is on your bucket list: get all artsy with your camera in the produce aisle

(3) you’ve always wanted to learn how to cook: go for a selfie with an apron on

(4) Jay-Z is on tour and you’re saving up to buy tickets: tweet your favorite lyrics

(5) backpacking through Europe is your dream: pose with a beret, a pair of wooden clogs, an Manchester soccer jersey, or whatever else floats your Venitian gondola

(Disclaimer: I have one #tbt post. It’s a picture of Moses from Prince of Egypt captioned “Throwback to when my ancestors interned in Egypt. #freelabor)

Now what would yours be? It is Friday, after all.

Image via Vogue

Lincoln Center: The Hottest Night Club in Town

May I just say, in a format popularized by a fictitious character that Bill Hader famously played on SNL, that the hottest nightclub in town is — seriously — Lincoln Center. At least its redesign, possibly a response to the criticism Lincoln Center has accrued for perpetuating the existence of the much-debated peacocks of Fashion Week, would suggest so. The hub now includes a dizzying maze of black walls that lead through an extensive electronic check-in station and this morning, it opened its doors to the initiated spectators, stomping in from several directions with one, uniform cause.

First, there was BCBG Max Azria, which tends to function as a marker for the trends to watch through the duration of the New York season. On tap for this round: a generous selection of shin and knee length skirts (and in one instance over pants), dresses and culottes in pinstripe as paired with knee length boots — evincing the spirit of a really, really well dressed elementary school teacher. The use of grey and beige stripes loosely hearkened back to Native American inspiration while the whimsical pops of turquoise, yellow and red stripes kept the collection firmly positioned in the scope of BCBG’s DNA.

Highlight? One particular suede and shearling coat, which from a front angle appears cropped but from behind, cascades down to the floor. It begs the question of whether you’ll forgo thigh warmth to allow your hamstrings a tango with that which is toasty.

At Richard Chai, the skirt length remained on par with the hemlines of BCBG, testing several more uneven variations and including a wider selection of pants — most of which printed in dark based florals or tonal stripes. For women, the easy, no brainer attitude and that nod to the 90s in the form of two separate wool t-shirts worn over long sleeve thermals is seductive. But where this collection succeeds is its articulation of the way a man should dress. Take that brown and teal striped suit fastened under an overcoat or what comes next: a navy suit replete with a burgundy blouse tied and worn around the waist almost as though it’s a skirt — doesn’t it make you think: I could be that guy?

They say real genius is measured by how accurately one can break down the complex but maybe too it can be measured by how starkly simple, in spite of brilliant layering, a fashion week look can appear. Creatures of the Wind provided this dose of intellect that has almost become endemic in the brand. You look at these clothes and you squint — you have to think. You wonder how you’ll approximate what you’re seeing, why you’ve not given as much though to waist belts and ankle length coats and a wool near-maxi skirt that seems so easy but also so new. Then you’ll catch wind of the butterflies patched into two separate lapels and suddenly, the creatures portion will make perfect sense.

Sick Style, Shit Weather

I meant what I tweeted yesterday. I am one snow storm away from high tailing it the fuck out of New York. I actually think in the tweet I called this place a bullshit city which I will probably feel really remorseful about come May but right now, New York, you are very truly and sincerely acting like a piece of frosted shit that has taken a shit atop my head and is now standing next to me, laughing incessantly about the shit on my head while I try to wipe it off.

What is that?

Frankly, I could have handled the abundant snow until yesterday when it turned to slush which inevitably turned into one of those violent puddles cars are so frequently splashing into pedestrian coats and faces and that yesterday, inevitably too, splashed into mine. And this wasn’t just any slush, it was frozen slush! Frozen, piss flavored slush. I also had no choice but to walk knit-sneaker first into a three foot puddle because I will not, repeat, will not buy snow boots.

Wait a tick. Do you think this weather is a) a conspiracy manufactured in cahoots with Isabel Marant to increase the sales on her released-this-season snow boots or b) just a testament to her indelible and incredible, perpetually lasting bout of luck? I can’t remember Sorel ever having it this easy with their boots and the corresponding climate.

Still, today does mark the official first day of fashion week and if I’m going to be really honest with myself, it therefore pisses me off plus-or-minus five octanes that to wear shoes, real, beautiful, multi-colored suede shoes, means to concede to fall, at least six times, and potentially eat ice peppered with New York’s finest brand of pollution.

So what does one do in the event of foot-immobility? Protest, of course. Remain stationary. Interminably click through the slideshow of street style photos as accrued by myself and Charlotte and presented here. I’ll do it slowly and stop over slide #2 to spend considerable time figuring out exactly how to approximate the woman in that image, with her perfectly ripped jeans at a novel floor length and the smart and functional red accent that comes as an iPhone case and then remember that, even though I am pretty sure I actually own those shoes, oh yeah, I can’t wear suede shoes.

So, I’ll bite the damn bullet, put on something rubber and electively release myself into the wild. Maybe I’ll wear Pharrell’s now notorious Grammy hat? Maybe I won’t.

The Things We Grew Part II: Nails

Now that you know what Amelia has put her face through in anticipation of the winter olympic games that are fashion week, which lay intermediately ahead, are you wondering what I planned in preparation?

No?

Well, is it okay if I tell you anyway?

Okay.

I thought about the sorts of accessories I could manufacture using my own body parts and though my initial idea was to bring my smile everywhere, growing out my nails seemed like so much more fun. It’s important to remember, though, I maintain an emphatically type-B personality, so, where Amelia actually went so far as to let her caterpillars crawl, I bought (well, Charlotte bought) glue-ons and applied them with red nail polish in lieu of letting my nails grow in earnest.

The result?

#1: A profound, new respect for the likes of Rihanna, Lana Del Rey, Halle Berry’s character, Nisi, in the 1997 critically acclaimed, B*A*P*S (if you, like everyone else in this office, have never seen that film, you are dead to me), and effectively every receptionist I have ever had to encounter pull documents out of a folder or place back inside a filing cabinet.

#2: That it is easy to take for granted how simple typing or the quotidian act of holding a coffee cup, swiftly sending a text message, or of scratching your head and pulling keys out of your handbag can feel when your nails are not ten inches long.

The process of application went something like this: I placed five of the adhesive-ready nails over the nail beds on my left hand. The other thing about ten inch nails is that if you’re applying them yourself, you’re fresh out of luck and motor skill capacity by nail #6. So Amelia placed the remaining five nails over my right beds, helped me paint them red and just like that, I was a physical manifestation Daria Werbowy’s oft-mentioned F/W 2013 ads for Céline.

Or was I? In reviewing the events of my yesterday, I think I feel much more like a dynamic cross between the worst version of Rita Ora, a fork (for eating chia bars, of course), and this woman, who apparently holsters the longest nails on earth.

Conclusion: Amelia’s bodily growth trumps mine and I’m back to utilizing the tips of my fingers in utter joy. Turns out long nails aren’t quite fashion yet — or is it simply that no matter what Werbowy touches turns to red lacquered gold?

Pinchy pinch.

I’m wearing a blouse from Asos, jacket by Carven, jeans by Blk Dnm, a handbag by Chloe and boots from Zara.

The Things We Grew Part I: Eyebrows

The things we do to be cool rarely ever actually work — mostly because it’s the act of trying that renders us instantly uncool. Once the social hierarchy of the high school cafeteria has been stripped away, the measure of cool relies largely on personal comfort (though an innate sense of style doesn’t hurt), but as someone who works in an industry that revolves around the celebration of trends, it can be easy to find myself standing alone in the hallway, wondering if I too can pull off leather palazzo pants.

I typically decide I cannot. I will write about them and dissect their worth until my keyboard is broken and my fingers fall off, but my fear of looking like I tried too hard tends to override my desire to experiment with new looks. But then Fashion Week inevitably turns up and the stress over looking cool rears its stupid head. This season, I found my secret weapon.

Eyebrows.

I have always had gigantic eyebrows, ones that could possibly grow into my forehead and take over my face if I left them alone for long enough. In their natural state, before my mother finally let me wax them, my brows were the love children of Peter Gallagher and Gaby Hoffmann. This was a horrifying realization at age 12, especially in comparison to girls in my class getting their first arches done. But when I remembered my furry browed roots just a few months ago, it was a revelation. They were to be my best accessory come Fashion Week.

I know that sounds dumb. I knew it sounded dumb the moment I said out loud to Leandra that I was “growing my eyebrows out for Fashion Week,” as if they were highlights or those yarn wraps you’d get on a family cruise to Jamaica. But I stand by my word choice. For a girl who has spent her life plucking errant hairs with the obsessive compulsion of a neurotic basket weaver, this was huge.

So for one whole month I didn’t touch my brows. The awkward in-between phase was worse than bangs, because my hairs are so black and thick that when they start to grow in I look like I’ve spiked mascara above my lids. As some sort of defense mechanism I adopted a habit of immediately pointing out my project the second I ran into anyone or met someone new. “Don’t mind the wigs growing out of my face,” I’d say, pointing to my brows. Although absolutely every time, no one noticed anything strange or different.

I even started to get annoyed. This was supposed to be a drastically new me. The whole point of me reverting back to brow au natural was to eliminate the need for a new wardrobe come fashion week — especially in this white shit storm of a winter that eradicates the hope of wearing anything but a full body parka. See, in the history of hyperbolic moments, eyebrows are potentially having the greatest one and for once I can participate with absolutely minimal effort.  So hello, can someone please notice?

But then finally, someone did.

“Your eyebrows look really good,” my friend said after I posted a selfie on Monday to Instagram.

When I went in for a bikini wax yesterday, the receptionist assumed I was there for my brows.

Then, just last night it was confirmed at dinner that the heavy brows made me look more “fashion-y” than usual, and after much prompting and cajoling and fishing for the very compliment I wanted, I got it. They told me I look cool. Er. Cool-er.

Whatever, I’ll take it, because I didn’t even have to try.

I think I’m going to keep the brows post-Fashion Week. Mostly because not doing them saves time and money. Next up on the fashion frontier that is my two facial caterpillars, however? Glitter a la Chanel’s last show, which is still so much cheaper than buying shoes.

What About Your Lips?

I think I too often overlook the importance of moisturizing my lips.

I say this only because I have spent substantial time in the last six months priming my face with creams and serums to ready it for the disaster that is gravity — calamity set to strike at any moment between now and the time that I am, let’s say, 35.

I have woken up at least as many times as I can count on both my hands to face a mirror that exposes a reflection that tells an accurate tale of transience. If when Beyoncé sang, “I woke up like this,” the this in question was regarding her changing face and the new lines and marks of (dis)color(ation) she finds with each closer look into a micro-mirror, I can totally get behind her sentiment. If she means that she hasn’t aged a millisecond since her 17th birthday, though, excuse me while I shriek into a pillow.

Just kidding, I’ve edited my thesis. I may have previously believed that my maintenance mantra should mandate that I do not contract wrinkles but I’m already ready to throw in the baby-face towel and let those skin-constructed barcodes assume my upper lip and cheeks and nose so forth.

I’ve had a series permeating my forehead for years now and you know what my dad has to say about that? Those are indentations of knowledge. I think he’s right.

Here’s the thing about my lips, though. I’m using them to tell my story and while, yes, the supposition is that said story should and will get better with age, that can only be the case if I’m editing and reworking and maintaining the plot line. I think my lips deserve the same treatment and frankly, not since the last time I purchased Lip Smackers have I felt so compelled to innervate these babies. Enter vbeauté’s Lip Spread Anti-aging Tinting Lip Gloss. I know it sounds vaguely like it could be hummus, but it’s not.

Now, I know what you’re thinking — I thought the same thing.

Anti-age, what?

Tinting, what?

GLOSS? What?

But here’s the thing — lips crack and dehydrate and get burnt and get really pissed off when we don’t have humidifiers counterbalancing the climatic woes that come with winter. So, applying some rendition of a balm really is in our best interest. Furthermore, too, using one that is of the tinted variety, but not quite as abrasive as that Moroccan one we tested last spring, discharges the spirit of youthful glow. In the case of vbeauté’s, the gloss reacts to your pH balance and offers a tint indigenous to you, which, if you think about it, makes it not unlike an iPhone or an iPad or any Apple product really. Why? Because while the lip gloss is uniform and accessible to all, it reacts to your use.

Cool!

Finally, on the topic of gloss, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to appear better put together without actually, you know, getting together. I’ve hit a ceiling with my capacity to withstand the demons of Instagram telling me that I look like a meth addict or to put some damn makeup on. And as canvassed in last week’s post on red nail polish, I’m not sure I want my lips to continue on the red hue trajectory. Integrating a fairly diffident lip gloss to my upkeep program seems like a viable option.

This way, the next time Beyoncé sings, “I woke up like this,” I can just be like, ditto.

Part 1 of 1 in collaboration with vbeauté. Photographed blouse from Asos.