other accessories

>> I'm home!  My most gracious and humble apologies to you all, I just had to whisk myself around the land where the sun never sets -- the grand old UK.  But here I am, I've popped up again, back in London.  And oh boy, do we have a lot to catch up on.

But first, this.  I came upon this site a long time ago, but it was down at the time.  Intrigued by the cool graphic logo, I bookmarked it anyway.  I remembered about it a couple of weeks ago, and it was like finding twenty dollars in a jacket pocket -- the site was back up, and just as I suspected, had something adorable for sale.   

Rippednylons.com -- even the name is alluring.  But the best part about it is what's inside.  The lollipop pins.  These cuties are all handmade with vintage fabric, beads, sequins, and lace.  I usually hate lace (and love sequins, beads, and vintage), but this might have won me over.  And the stitching -- it's all just so divine.  And my favorite (my golden rule of deciding): it looks like nothing else.  How could it?  They're all one of a kind.  Some people tie a scarf on their bag to give it a personal touch, but me, I would put add a lollipop pin.  It's like in Office Space -- everyone needs a little bit of flair -- these would be mine (Of course, never would I fulfill the 37 pieces of flair minimum -- one is good enough for me).  My flair of choice would have to be the Sundae Dainty Lollipop Pin -- I'm such a sucker for anything blue -- $18 of deliciousness.

It's interesting, I've never been big on accessories.  But suddenly, I've become intrigued -- God is in the details, as they say.  It's that little touch of panache that makes an outfit your own, and I can feel my style evolving.  Which also explains why I'm so attracted to these pins -- they definitely have the spice it takes.   

>>  I was wondering around Oxford (UK) one day and came across this somewhat run-down-looking shop.  It had a little bit of graffiti here, a little bit of cracked wood there...  But the thing that really caught my attention was its window.  "What a great place to play dress up," quoth I (I am a 5-year-old at heart).  "And look at those purses in the window."  Instantly intrigued by this rarity of a shop, I tried the door.  No luck, it's 1:30 pm, and all is not well -- why is this Unicorn shop not open?  We walked next door to the sandwich shop I call Herpes (actually Heroes, someone just tampered with the sign), and asked whether the shop was still open.  "Why yes," quoth she.  "The woman just opens it whenever she feels like."

I must have checked back 4 or 5 times before the elusive Unicorn was finally open.  That fateful day was a rainy day, and 3 guys were standing outside with umbrellas while their girlfriends packed themselves into the tiny open space, crawling over each other to get to the goods.  It's not that the shop was small, it's that there were so many piles of clothing everywhere.  Piles as tall as I am.  It was amazing, it was like digging for gold -- you never know what you're going to pull up.  And you couldn't even get to the back half of the store, because there was this huge wall of clothing cutting you off from it.  The little gray-haired woman who ran the store kind of reminded me of Miss Havisham, sans the rotting wedding dress.  She had that musty smell about her, and it permeated the entire shop, as if she hadn't left the place in ages, and just sat in there at night, watching over her collection in a place that never sees light (when I went in, the store was dark -- there were no lights).  She had kind of a creepy yellowed-teeth smile, and her hair looked like the cotton batting you would stuff your teddy bear with.  She just climbed all over her clothes to get where she needed with Smeagol-like dexterity, and she had that same mischievious twinkle in her eye. 

Maybe it's because she knew she was cheated me out of some good money.  Yes, that's right, I found a couple of wonderful pieces.  The first being a Victorian-inspired velvet jacket (love velvet jackets) with shoulder pads (so '80s, I know, but it actually looks quite regal with the jacket's cut).  It has satin ribbon lining, which gives it this high-collared look at the neck.  Gorgeous, and perfect for the fall, with the velvet and the Victorian both being all over the runway.  Miss Havisham (the Unicorn woman) told me that it was designed by Laura Phillips, a well-respected seamstress in England.  I was skeptic, as I should have been -- I came home later and googled it, and nothing came up.  But that was supposed to explain why the jacket was ₤29 -- it was a "coveted piece."  Uh huh.  But I justified it to myself -- never in the States have a found such a great vintage store.  Plus, I loved the jacket, and when was the next time this store was going to be open, anyway? 

Same for the second piece --  it's this great paisley '70s bohemian-looking shrug.  I saw it and thought,  "I'll never ever come across a piece like that again."  It was a basilisk, that shrug -- it froze me in my steps -- that's how taken I was.  Plus, I like the kimono-inspired bell sleeves.  So again, Miss Havisham had me -- this time for a mere ₤24.  Ah well, such is life.  These are the best kind of souvenirs anyway -- the ones that actually mean something to me personally.  They're better than a plastic Union Jack flag or a cheap Eiffel Tower replica any day.  As much as I feel like Miss Havisham takes advantage of me, I do hope to visit her again at least once before I leave.  But we'll have to see what happens -- I kind of feel like that store is the Atlantis of vintage.

P.S.  I'll be away for a bit starting today, so you won't hear from me for a while.  But hopefully I'll have some good stories when I get back.

>>  What three things do I want in life (or now, rather)?  No silly, not peace, love, and happiness.  Try again.  You're stumped?  Okay fine.  I'll give it to you, but just this once. 

1. The Pants

I saw this style of pants running around all over Barcelona, and fell deeply, passionately in love.  The example picture is from McQueen's Spring 2003 collection, but only because I couldn't get a picture of the ones I saw.  They look exactly the same.  I know the people I saw wearing them can't all afford vintage McQueen, however, so I want to know... where can you get these pants?  Anyone, anyone?  I want, but I can't have, because I don't know where to get.  And that makes it all the worse.  They just look so comfy, and at the same time, I think of a Japanese influence.  Which makes it all the cooler.  Now if only I could find them, I would be able to die a happy woman. 

2.  The Shirt

I was looking through a great Japanese Street Style site that I came across, and I found a girl from Harajuku (don't worry, I'm no Gwen Stefani) wearing this lovely lovely Comme des Garcons Play shirt.  Again, can't find it anywhere -- it came out a couple of years ago.  I think I like it so much because it reminds me of a drawing I did as a kid -- it had little heart people with eyes on them that looked just like that.  And to think, if only my parents had had the common sense to put that drawing on a shirt, I might've been a famous at age 5.  I'm dreaming, I know, but the point is, the shirt is personal to me.  But I'm still so jealous of that girl.  She has my shirt.

3. The Waistcoat

Also known as "vest" in the U.S., but I figure since I'm in England, I can take up their terms.  Especially when I'm going to mention Miss Kate Moss, the lovely.  Who has been spotted at the Glastonbury Festival (and around town) recently wearing this waistcoat.  I'm not sure that I would wear mine like she does, but I definitely think this would be a good piece to support the quasi- adrogynous clothing phase I'm going through right now.  Plus, just look at her.  There's nothing manly about the piece when she wears it.  In fact, I would dare to say sensual.  (I know, Kate Moss is the embodiment of sensual, but what can I say.)  I found a pretty cute one at Urban Outfitters for $78, but I would prefer to find a cool vintage one in London.  So we'll see what I can turn up.

**sources: TIME, getty images

>>...it's time for some Spanish street style.  But first, I must debrief you on the general trends I noticed:

I have to admit, I did go to Sevilla as well as Barcelona and San Sebastian, but I haven't really talked about it because I didn't really see many young people.  And the ones I did see were tourists = no thank you.  So again, I'm going to focus on what I observed in Barcelona and San Sebastian -- by the time we get through, you'll be a master at Spanish fashion (I'm so modest about my advice, aren't I?).

The most interesting thing about the trends I noticed was that a lot of them were unisex.  For example, both guys and girls were very into the capri-length pants.  Of course the guy's were baggier, and the girls more fitted, but I didn't see any guy wearing shorts that end right below the knee like all guys wear in the States.  Also, everybody and their mom had espadrilles (or alpargatas, if you like), but that was to be expected, I mean, it's Spain, people.  There was one surprise, however.  The guys also had their own version of espadrilles -- alpargatas espigo -- that were quite ubiquitous as well.  In fact, my boyfriend fell in love with them and bought a pair (left, €10).  And the hairstyle, oh, the hairstyle.  We saw it so much, it became dubbed "the haircut" when we were pointing it out to each other.  On guys it resembled a mullet -- short on top and in the front and longer in the back, and on girls (women, all ages really) it was the same, except the long was usually longer.  And there was one more style that was all over both men and women's feet -- abarcas (right).  They don't look like anything special, but on feet, they're cute.  And especially attractive when you're walking around all day (instead of using a car) like many Spaniards do.

Other random notes I made: 

There's nothing too different about the way Spaniards dress, and yet I found myself getting a certain style vibe.  They do add sportier elements to their dress that you typically see in the States -- something I mentioned the other day.  And they don't wear nearly as much makeup as the average American woman does.  In fact, it flatters them to wear less.  Funnily enough, I think the most beautiful women I saw were both mothers without any makeup on at all.  They were both dressed well, however.

I did see some girls wearing jeans, but they're not on everyone's tush like back home -- they're more likely to be wearing skirts or dresses or capris.  But no short shorts -- not at all.  In fact, my friend from Paris was telling me that Europeans can always tell an American, especially if they're wearing short shorts.             

Barcelona was very bohemian, at least in the area I was in.  No, not the Paris Hilton-bright-pink-long-flowy-skirt-fashion-victimization that's going on all over everywhere, but the dreads, layered bikini tops under cotton halter dresses, piercings everywhere, unkempt looking kind of bohemian.  Speaking of piercing, this was another thing I noticed.  Many many girls had the area below their lip, but off-center, pierced.  I've never really seen this in the States, so I found it interesting.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for -- my paparazzi debut (Spanish street style).          

>> Everyone always told me that when in Spain, one shops at Mango and Zara.  I think it's kinda like when in England, you shop at H&M and TopShop.  In other words, none of these stores are the best you can find out there, but they're still something to check out, if only to know what everyone else is talking about. 

Of course both Mango and Zara have stores outside of Spain (Zara even has one in Houston), but I thought I would check both out in their fatherland (maybe they would be more special that way?).  So, I give you my impressions:

MANGO:

Honestly, I didn't stay in the store very long at all.  I am what you might call a "super power shopper" -- I go into store, glance around at stuff, and can tell pretty quickly after that if I want to look any further at their clothes.  I'm not one of those people that has to touch every single item in the store for 30 seconds apiece.  And seeing how I didn't stay in Mango for very long, you have probably guessed that I wasn't very impressed.  The clothes seemed just very basic, and while everyone needs some basics, it would have been nice to see a little personality as well.  It's a store that is totally forgettable, and so are the clothes.  If you wanted me to find an American equivalent, it would probably be an Abercrombie without so many jeans for sale, because the prices weren't super-cheap, and there was that general aura of blandness.  I think the Spaniards felt pretty much the same, because there wasn't exactly enough people in the store to call it "busy."

ZARA:

Zara, on the other hand, was absolutely crawling with people.  In fact, for the day and a half I was in San Sebastian, I must have seen at least 50 different people (all locals) running around with Zara shopping bags.  And the bag carriers spanned all ages, from 10-year-old to grandma.  When I went inside, it was pretty difficult to navigate because of the sheer amount of people packed into the tiny little trendy-store aisles.  I have to say, the clothes are better that Mango's -- there are more prints and little details to make the clothing more personalized.  The prices were about the same as Mango's, if not a slight bit more expensive.  It really reminded me of an Express, the same kind of trendy prints on fabric of so-so quality that they can sell off for more than they really should charge -- you know what I mean. 

I am glad that I went, however, because I found a girl in a great outfit to paparazzi-stalk.  I'm not even joking, I saw her in Zara and was like, wow, what a great outfit,  so I sat across the street from the Zara entrance and waited for her to exit.  I felt so weird, and definitely got some weird looks, but hopefully I could just pass it off as being a brainless American tourist.  I even sent my boyfriend on reconnaissance missions back into the store to see where this girl was and when she was nearing the entrance.  I'm really glad she was with a friend, so she didn't notice that she was being stalked by American tourists (we really are ridiculous, I know). In any case, I just loved the graphic print (surprise), the dropped-waist, and the little shrunken cardi that she wore over the dress.  And a great color combination, to boot.  Not much else to say about it, but you can look and see for yourself.  It's a very Spanish outfit, typical of what I saw over there, I think because of the sporty element she added to it with the slides and the backpack. So there you have it, some genuine Spanish streetstyle.      

>> From Barcelona, we moved on to San Sebastian, a gorgeous little resort town in the Spanish Basque country (right).  It was amazing how everywhere we went -- Sevilla, Barcelona, San Sebastian -- had such a different feel to it.  But I guess its the same for the States -- NYC, Atlanta, and LA are all strikingly different, so I'm not sure why it surprised me so much about Spain.  San Sebastian had a much cozier small-town feel to it than the other two, not to mention the promenade and its view of the Bay of La Concha were breathtaking. 

It was our last stop in Spain before entering into other countries, so I absolutely had to pick up a good pair of espadrilles.  I have been in love with them since I was a zygote, so really, I couldn't pass up the chance.  My boyfriend/translator (he speaks the Spanish and I speak the French) asked the hostess at our hostel where she recommended finding a quality pair of said type of shoes, and surprisingly, she didn't understand "espadrille."  Now that's funny.  Here I was always thinking that espadrille was a Spanish word (so maybe I'm ignorant), when in fact, it was French, all along.  Tricksy, that word "espadrille" is.  So after describing the shoe to her, we come to find out that espadrilles are actually called "alpargatas."  Off we went.

Our hostess recommended this little tiny store called Estrada, located right around the corner from where we were staying.  We stopped by, but of course it was closed.  One of the most endearing things about Spain is the fact that stores are totally unreliable.  The stores sporadically open and close whenever they feel like it -- mostly during siesta hours, which are between 1-4 (and sometimes 5 or 6) pm.  I'll admit, they are somewhat predictable in the sense that you are almost guaranteed they will be closed most of the afternoon, but you can never really be sure if/when they will open. 

Finally, around 5:15 pm, we circled back for the fourth time, and little Estrada was open!  The whole thing must have 25 square feet, the tiniest shop ever.  There was already a line out the door, filled with locals (this made me happy -- whenever you find a place filled with locals, you know you're spot on).  The entirety of the store's stock was all in that little store, piles and piles all the way up to the ceiling.  What amazed me most of all is that the owner knew exactly where to look for everything -- it wasn't exactly the most organized store I've ever been in.  When she asked what size I needed, and we told her "United States 9," she just laughed at us and replied, in Spanish, of course,  "That means nothing to me."  It took a few trials for me to finally figure out that I'm a size 39 in Spain, and I was able to walk out, proud owner of some authentic alpargatas (and for only €20).  I just love the way the jute roping that forms the wedge gets kind of hairy when you've worn them in a bit...I think thats my favorite.  Oh, and the fact that I can walk in them all over the place and they're still comfortable. 

If you can't quite make it over to Spain, but are still interested in some quality espadrilles, check out espadrillesetc.com -- they have a wide selection going for about what I paid for mine.

>>  Barcelona was gorgeous.  We stayed right on the Ramblas (left), which is the huge super-touristy main boulevard.  When we arrived, it was absolutely teeming with people and the types of little shops that typically try to sell to tourists' undiscerning eyes.  I mean, they were selling birds, for crying out loud... what kind of souvenir is that?  And who in their right mind buys a bird to remember Barcelona?  I can just see it, as Mr. Classic Tourist steps off the plane: "Ahh, I see you have a bird, you must have been to Barcelona!"  Right-o.

In any case, me being me, and my boyfriend being my boyfriend, we were naturally repelled by the gross gaudiness that was witnessed on this street.  So, we set ourselves to exploration mode, and off we went.  We came across the Gothic Quarter (left), which is right off the Ramblas.  Of course, me being a huge sucker for gothic architecture, I was smitten.  I'll admit, the area was still quite touristy, but like I said, gothic arches are band-aid enough for any sore thumbs. 

Happily enough (and I know you're happy too, as I am finally getting to what you probably come here for), I found a spectacular store, newly-opened, called Desigual.  Right up my alley, with its super graphic-design and grafitti-type looks.  Barcelona is intensely steamy and humid, so I had been on the lookout for a good cotton halter dress like I had seen everyone running around in.  Luckily enough, I found the perfect candidate -- a green and pink number with a big face on the side (I heart graphic faces).  It was a little on the expensive side at €56, but I figure what the hell, this place is only located in Europe and Asia, so why shouldn't the dress be my Barcelonan souvenir?  It's must better than taking home a bird, I'll say. 

Plus, I like the way they do things at Desigual.  For openings of new stores, they invite artists, grafitters, painters, etc.  to decorate the spaces.  So it has that whole artsy feel I like.  And on that note, I leave you with a picture of my favorite graffiti (unfortunately, not in Desigual) that I came across while in Barcelona (left).   

**sources: stevefazzio.com, dominicmartell.com

>> I'm baaaaaack (for right now, anyway)!  After a week of plane-, train-, and city-hopping, and nearly missing my [insert connecting flight or train here] multiple times, I've finally settled into good old London, England, home of my boy Union Jack.  Don't worry, just because I was in foreign surroundings doesn't mean that fashion became a foreign thing to me.  If anything, I have TONS of good stuff to relay.  So sit back, put your seat upright, and prepare for takeoff!

**sources: proudflag.com

>> ...I hate to say adieu, but I simply must whisk myself off to Spain and England (and France?) until mid-August.  I'm torn, believe me.  I will try to update as often as possible, but it will likely be very sporadic.  My apologies ahead of time.

And so I leave you with something I like:

TIME Magazine recently did an article on Phoebe Philo that made me respect her even more (if you can believe that).  They stressed the fact that Ms. Philo emerged as one of the leaders in fashion design without the boost of any hype.  When first offered the top job at Chloe, Ms. Philo was "a rebellious, unknown assistant with a penchant for gold teeth, diamente-studded nails and hip-hop.  Although many fashion insiders credited her street smart for Chloe's success during [Stella] McCartney's tenure, she was not not an obvious choice to reinvent a 50-year-old-brand." 

I absolutely love that Phoebe didn't get where she has by "playing the game" and kissing booty.  I love that she's always been herself, and done what she likes to do, and yet has been able to gain the respect of her colleagues.  I mean, she was at Chloe's helm at 27.  And most of all, I love her for showing people that sometimes someone who seems least likely to be right for the job is actually perfect.  The underdog who scores.  I hope she keeps it up, because I hold her way up there in my books. 

And something I don't like so much:

Versace's new face is....drumroll please...Demi Moore.  Yeah, just like that.  Blegh.  I mean, yeah, she looks great for her age, but, come on, Donatella... Demi?  I'm just not seeing it.  Nor will it attract me more to your clothes.

**sources: uk vogue dailies

>> No I mean, really, please stop me. It must be fate that I keep getting lead to these great $20 shoe deals, but I could really use a cease and desist order right about now.  Here I am, about to embark on a great voyage to Europe, and am I saving my money?  Noooo, of course not, why would I ever do something intelligent and responsible like that?  Especially when there's these great pairs of shoes on sale stateside?  I told you I was downright addicted  -- I was not kidding. 

And now, the fruits of my labors (and trust me, it was soooo labor-intensive to walk into the store and try on a couple pairs of shoes):

The first pair kind of reminded me of the Chloe Bow Moccasins -- they're nice Italian leather, comfortable, and perfect for traipsing around Spain (until I find some suitable espadrilles, that is).  And the second pair is just pure whimsy... but its good to have a little of that in your life every once and a while.  Besides, I've been on a bright-colored-shoe kick lately -- I like the punch they add to an outfit.  Let's just say, today, I am a satisfied customer.