Vintage dress, faux fur stole, necklaces, and cuff via the Long Beach Antique Market, Steve Madden boots, mom’s vintage scarf, Louis Vuitton handbag
Bec said I was hippified out. I said this is why I love fashion. I can be preppy/sporty one day (reference previous post) and whatever the hell I want to be the next.
In this economy, one day you and your family can have a meal around the table together and the next, you could lose your job and the ability to put food on the table. This reality rang truer today while I spent a few hours at the Los Angeles Regional Foodbank through my company’s day of community service. My company organizes a few different chartitable efforts for us to choose from during the holidays. Last year, I guided children in arts and crafts projects through the Free Arts for Abused Children non-profit organization. This year, I chose to go to the foodbank because I remembered back to when I stocked the food pantries and packed bags of food at my local Red Cross in New Jersey one summer in high school. I still remember the feeling I got seeing a man come into the Red Cross and leave with one of the bags of food that I had just packed. I didn’t see the actual recipients we were helping today, but I still left with that same rewarding feeling and purpose in wanting to have more days like today. No matter if we can’t donate hundreds of dollars to charities, we can still donate our time toward the cause. After all, the man behind you is in this human race with you.
P.S.- At the foodbank three feet away from me, Maria Shriver, the First Lady of California, was being filmed by ABC. I refrained from shouting a hearty thanks for her Obama endorsement speech. I just watched her speech again and found this part applicable to volunteering- “If you think you can help, if you think you can change just one person, if you think you can make a difference, then go.”
Ralph Lauren men’s sweater, Free People cami, American Apparel shorts, Jessica Simpson shoes, Bebe bow headband
This Ralph Lauren men’s varsity sweater is a similar version of the one that had alluded me last winter, causing an [over]analysis of what went awry in my fourth ever blog post. (I’d also like to note that the aforementioned Topshop floral corset dress eventually became mine when it miraculously came back in stock).
The varsity style takes me back to my high school track and cross country years when I proudly wore my varsity letterman winter jacket and windbreaker. In my winter and spring track seasons, I primarily ran the 400 meter (m) hurdles, individual 400m, 4×400m relays, and sprint medleys as the 400m leg, as well as other races such as the 100m hurdles, 100m, 200m, 600m, and 800m. I was also a long jumper and a [semi] triple jumper- or at least I attempted to conjur up the required coordination in meets. While I stopped running when I got to college (with the exception of running to class), I have the best memories and have taken this notion away that runs silently, yet constantly, through my head-
I never learned my limits- and better yet, I learned that I don’t have any. The moments I thought I had reached my limits- whether it was feeling immobile on the last track straightaway with a herd of hurdles to tackle in a close race (and wondering if the officials would notice if I crawled right through the barriers)… to running on dry sand around a lake in a cross country meet (when all I wanted to do was cannonball jump- or with my then energy level, fall into the dirty water and float)… to running up the same steep hill 20 times in 10 degree snow-falling weather during practice (while I deliriously envisioned stripping my four layers of warmth/Marshmallow Man likeness, collapsing, and making snow angels- if I was still able to move, that is)- I learned that I can achieve so much more if I don’t limit myself to the cannots. This realization- this intimate understanding with myself- got me through the LA Marathon with zero training, 1,000 different kinds of pain in my legs, and all of the beliefs in the world that my being- body and spirit- is limitless.
Saturday was spent eating a breakfast of peach pie that Marie Callendars gave me instead of the blueberry pie that I thought I bought, strolling around the LA Zoo entranced by the cute animals (species, kids, and boyfriend), scarfing down a delicious authentic Italian dinner with tomato sauce that my non-tomato sauce eating boyfriend really enjoyed, relaxing at the spa in the hot tub and saunas while a girl complimented me on my Betsey Johnson bikini and said, “Betsey Johnson? Hm, I’ll have to look her up.”, attempting to relax during my rough Thai-Shiatsu massage, and closing down the spa 10 minutes after it was supposed to close- I know, such rebels we are. We ran across the street with wet hair, intertwined hands, and full hearts. Our six month anniversary couldn’t have been any better.
(Except for that blueberry pie missing from my tummy.)
‘Tis the season to be thankful for all that you have. And time to pig out as demonstrated above. I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving and takes time to truly reflect on this past year’s blessings.
Dear 365 days,
Thank you for… my unconditionally bonded family and friends… for leading me to a selfless love that seems too good to be true (but lucky for me, it is)… a home that feels like my haven… my career and the work that I produce that in turn produces my pride… old school reunions in Mexico, up in New Jersey, and down in Maryland… the loyal California sun spotlight… this stellar wreck of documentation that allows my writing to flood… the positive flood of communication with my readers… the realization that when something breaks it doesn’t mean that I’m broken… the band, Lifehouse, who I met eight years ago, because I always unravel another piece of life’s meaning from their lyrics… the 365 days of breathing room… the 365 days of special moments (because every moment in this life is special)… the 365 days of opportunities to becoming closer to who I want to be. I’m basically brimming with blessings because of little young you. I dig you, 365. xoxo
P.S.- I’m on the right and Bec’s on the left.
Angl dress, Louis Vuitton scarf, Report Signature shoes via shopbop.com, Victoria Wieck bracelet via HSN
Instant message conversation with my college ex-boyfriend:
Ex: i definitely appreciated that about you
Ex: that you knew how to dress
Ex: it’s a really appealing feature in a girl
Me: hahahaa you’re supposed to like someone even if they’re a bad dressser
Ex: of course i would
Ex: but it’s nicer if they care about how they look
Word.
Disclaimer: This fashion talk arose when he was telling me about the new girl he’s dating and how she digs fashion like I do.
My arms are actually sore from carrying all of my Long Beach Antique Market finds. It doesn’t help that I was sweating in my LA Dodgeball Society t-shirt, Nightcap Clothing leggings, Dita Dynasty sunglasses, Free People boots, topped off by an oversized Pixie sweater that I had finally freed my body from only 20 minutes before leaving. Fortunately, my Marc by Marc Jacobs bag didn’t add to my overdressing and proved to be a trustworthy companion. Here’s the composition of my heavy lifting:
I adore this $5 quirky bag with Old English lettering. I’m pretty picky about the interiors of vintage bags, which is why I don’t have any, but this has a pristine inner lining and looks like it’s never been used.
Good- the back even has writing. I want everyone to know I’m part of the “IN” club.
This faux fur has arm straps to keep it in place. Bonussss.
Bec was convinced this 60s mod dress wasn’t going to fit me- in particular, she was betting me that I wouldn’t be able to zip it up all the way. Well, she was 50% right. I can zip it up fine, but it’s a mini-mini dress. I’m just going to wear it with tights and consider me sufficiently covered up.
The embroidered little guy was calling out to me. I’ll be wearing this maxi dress with brown boots.
I won’t be wearing this robe as such. Instead, I’ll be throwing it over a white tank and denim cut-offs- the perfect contrast between the extreme lengths.
The handmade price tag on this said it’s a Vanity Fair pool cover up. However, for my purposes, the thin velvet-like material is going to serve me well as a dress.
Oversized jewelry with distinct personalities.
Fierce. Bec was scared.
A nod to Medieval Times. I still love that place.
Trojan warriors. One’s power is even radiating.
An Aztec warrior aka my personal bodyguard.
Him too.
I like the idea of nations uniting around my wrist.
P.S.- The countries are upside down. To my surprise, I received a small scholarship for “Excellence in Social Studies” in my senior year of high school, but it took my boyfriend to point out my geographical error.
The super cute Clare of the fashion blog, Clarabelle, featured Bec and me a few weeks ago deeming us fashionistas who are “trend-tastic”. This got me to thinking about the top three trends that are the current empires in my state of mind.
1. Lingerie lingering outside-
I just bought this Topshop bralet and can’t wait to wear it with floral skirts and unbuttoned men’s contrasting plaid flannels.
2. Daylight peekin’ sequins-
This Topshop sequin bralet also applies to the first trend as I plan to wear this in the daytime with my Siwy overalls, over a white (or any color really) tank, and with another one of my men’s flannels.
3. Shoulda shoulda (the heteronym kind)-
I bought this dress when I was at the New York Topshop store. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for any structured/embellished/padded shoulder dresses, tops, and jackets.
While I’ve shown off my newly purchased Topshop friends, you may as well meet the rest of the pack-
Meet Osby. Born in 2007, ie. this little guy came into my world when my friend, Izzy, gave him to me. He was named after the University of Maryland basketball player, Bambale Osby, who is now playing on a professional basketball team in Israel. His curiously angled eyebrows paired with a hopeless, neverending (for reals) smile, and accented with those downright fun ears make him my cluelessly adorable buddy.
Osby’s being all fancy rad wearing the “hear no evil” monkey charm necklace that I got at the Melrose Trading Post in LA last winter. Having gone to the Meadowlands Flea Market in New Jersey many weekends with my parents (not many vintage clothes when we had gone years ago, but Bec and I went for the beautiful silver jewelry and humungous soft pretzels), I’ve really grown to enjoy this type of treasure hunting. This past Sunday, I left the Rose Bowl Flea Market empty-handed, aside from a frozen lemonade that I almost didn’t find until running into one of my friends, Renee, who basically saved me from dehydration and devastation looking at my free hands. Here’s what I left behind:
- 40s cream sweatshirt that had big bold black “007″ on the front, along with a minor brown stain… I could deal with the stain, but I could not deal with the $250 price tag.
- Light blue sweatshirt that said “Election Night 1964″ on the front and said “NBC News” on the back. This one had minor stains throughout the soft cotton. If only it was an election that I cared about. I mean, I did do an extensive project on Lyndon B. Johnson in my 8th grade History class, but having no strong feelings toward that election, I’m just not going to go down as a poser like that, especially when it comes to politics… even if it was a mere $55 bargain compared to the previous sweatshirt.
- A 3/4 sleeve faded navy t-shirt that said “Ugly, Mean and Nasty” caught my eye for the humor factor. It could be considered ironic if I wore it which I was hoping for had I bought it or it could be considered fact- and I really, realllly, reallllllllllllly didn’t want to be called mean. The other two I could take, but being deemed a meanie would have been the pits! I put in a call to Bec (we separated when she proceeded to debate over two black blazers that I didn’t care about), who quickly deferred to me being called ugly so I put the t-shirt back and walked away with $12 still in my nasty pocket, ie. it still unfortunately had all of my money that I came armed with and I wanted my pocket to be full of the beautiful finds that ended up in non-existence. However, I’m regretting leaving the little guy there since I realized I spend more than that to park my car in a Hollywood lot for one night out. One parking space for four hours versus potentially 400 wears- yeah, I’m now ugly, mean and nasty dumb.
Back in college, on Thursday nights around 3:30am, I was normally found at a fraternity “Late Night” party or skipping to another two- you know the ones- ie. ZBT Late Night! or Late Night at Lambda Chi! after the usual 11pm parties. Now in adulthood, I have Late Night with my computer- ogling future closet companions instead of well, other [male] closet companions. Drowsy but willfully as ever, I stayed up long enough to order the above from Spanish Moss Vintage. I’m most looking forward to my new friends telling me morning after stories of years past or better yet- to be in my own morning after stories of years now.
Halloween cheer abounded through the halls of my company on Friday while a group of 14 of us gathered in a corner office to assemble our costumes for the Group Costume Contest. My company’s kitchen keg was laid to rest this year so we dressed as red Solo keg cups in remembrance. This is my beloved associate project manager, Heather, who I call “Tay” as in Rachel Zoe’s Taylor. In a previous post, I had said I was going to dress as Rachel and she would dress as Taylor since we are a rad power team like that. However, we decided to join the group again this year since we had won our company’s Group Costume Contest last year. But we realized we don’t need Halloween to dress up so we do plan on donning Rachel and Taylor threads in the near future. On a side note but completely related, we saw Taylor, Brad, and Joey from The Rachel Zoe Project at Saturday brunch, and it turned my sick day into sickkkk. We were actually en route to a familiar brunch spot, but the boyfriend suggested this other place as we drove past it, so Bec turned the car around, we went in, and there they were. Fate much?
When you have keg cups, you gotta have a Rodney keg!
Hollie looked adorable as a cowgirl- loved her drawn on freckles. I’m getting shiny, ie. sweaty in the costume despite being in a tank top and leggings. We had all wanted to be color coordinated so we wore white on top to go with the cotton ball beer foam and black bottoms.
Fellow blogger, Zack, of Unvegan.com
Moments before they announced our victory and our prize- a pizza party. Ironically, last year we used our prize money for a pizza party lunch. I’m in the back wiping off neck sweat (kidding… I think).
On to Friday night and an exclusive peek at Lady Gaga getting ready. (She also asked to borrow my Topshop sequin hotpants that I have yet to wear and I obliged because, well, it’s the Lady G.)
I had really wanted to be a Wild Thing from Where the Wild Things Are, but while having anxiety about how I was going to pull together a furry suit and en route to a Hollywood wig store for Lady Gaga, we passed a solid costume store. I weeded through the risque costumes and came out with this soldier one piece, which matched Amber’s hot Mad Hatter costume. We’re at her house party in the Hollywood Hills.
Immediately after buying my costume we went to Target for some shelf liners and apparently some inspiration- the red and white Target logos conjured up visions of the adored Waldo. A recommend later and my boyfriend created his look with vintage finds.
I never knew Waldo had a cane, but we looked up photos and he did have one. 
Saturday night, post-USC loss (for him) and post-win for the Yankees (me), we ventured out to the West Hollwyood Carnaval. I have to say he was amazing in taking care of a very ill me. While I napped in the afternoon, he went and got me Dayquil, Theraflu, bottled water, and toilet paper (he thought I didn’t have any even though I’m stocked up). Feeling a little better, I decided to change it up a little and wear my hair in a side braid and add Makeup Forever red lips. I also kept warm in a faux leather jacket and cashmere fingerless gloves that I had bought last year but never worn until then.
Random guy dressed as I don’t even know what who wanted to take a photo with James. Numerous people wanted to take photos with him, and it was hilarious when people yelled out, “Where’s Waldo?” or “I found Waldo!”. Everyone’s inner child loves Waldo!
My own inner child got uber excited when I spotted a guy dressed as Falcor from The Neverending Story. He had attached the Falcor head on his stomach and Falcor’s tail on his back- not sure how he managed to keep it up. I really wanted to take a photo with him, but Falcor flew through the crowd while people exclaimed, “Dude, it’s Falcor!!!”.
Even though their tour’s been cancelled, Lady Gaga and Kanye are still super fresh.
Kanye at the VMAs. I heart Taylor Swift. 
Two Lady Gagas are better than one. (The left one also borrowed my Bebe blue fishnets that I have yet to wear. She better not have snagged them up.) I’m also glad the Geico got in there.
A Wild Thing. We think.
He asked me for a photo-op. Damn, his pants are tight.
While taking a photo of the adorable Disney teacups, I was like, “Man, quit ruining my picture!”. Looked at the photo on my camera and didn’t realize it was Michael Jackson.
Jon and Kate plus 8. Complete with both CZ earrings. Yessssss.
Two Mr. Fredricksens and three Russells from the Pixar animated film, Up.
I passed my germs on to Lady Gaga in hopes I’d discover what orange juice she drinks. What ever will she choose??????
Minute Maid with High Pulp!!!!!! 
I also found Waldo at Ralphs. He’s everywhere nowadays.
Sunday brunch buffet at Duke’s in Malibu. I stuffed myself silly with the chocolate covered strawberries.
That was my weekend in photos! Hope everyone has a stellar week!
