Kate Moss Collection for Christmas '09

I recently (and quite excitedly) discovered that Kate Moss has her own clothing line. I was querying EBay for dresses over the summer and came across one whose description indicated that it was a Kate Moss design.  After much confusion, and two minutes of Googling, I had the information that I needed and my excitement began to swell.  Why?  Well, in my introductory posting, I divulged that Kate Moss has always been my favorite model and the first model (okay, really the only model) whose career I have ever cared to follow.  So, to discover that this woman whom I look up to as a fashion icon has her own line of designer clothing?  Sign me up!

Her styles are sexy, glamorous, and the kind of outfits that you know that you are going to feel absolutely beautiful in when you wear them!  Each piece is classic and memorable, ranging from outfits that you could wear to work, to the club, and for the bedroom.  Furthermore, they're not obscenely expensive.

She just released her Christmas '09 line and I already see multiple items that I want to add to my personal Christmas list. However, my heart currently belongs to her Ice Blue Sequin Mini Dress (pictured above).


Buy, browse, and/or drool Online @ Top Shop:  http://www.topshop.com/

Read an interview at couture.com:  http://www.coutorture.com/5909197

I'm personally very, very excited by this!

The dreamiest shoes that I own (so far)....

Now, it's time for the post about the pair of shoes that helped welcome me back into my indulgence in the world of fashion!

Thanks to my fiance and our upcoming two year anniversary, PLUS an unexpected detour to the shoe department in Filene's Basement, I now own the nicest pair of shoes that my feet have ever slid into (so far).  They're by Calvin Klein.  I don't know the particular name of the shoe, but it magically melds together black patent and suede.  Additionally, they possess a Mary Jane strap (also known as my favorite shoe component ever).

It's been a very long time since I've seen shoes that have genuinely excited me, but I was immediately drawn to these.  Everything about their style speaks to me -- high heel, slight platform, patent, suede, Mary Jane strap, and an open toe.  The best part about these shoes?  They're unbelievably comfortable.  The heel is higher than any that I've worn in quite some time, but incredibly easy to walk in.  Normally, open toe shoes squeeze my feet and damage my pinky toe (on my left foot, it's an utter disaster) -- but not these!

I can easily say that these shoes perfectly embody everything that I've always loved about Calvin Klein's designs -- sexy, classy, and approachable.  And I thank him for being able to re-ignite my long dormant infatuation with shoes!  Oh, it has been far, far too long.

And now... for the pictures!  This is my first time taking pictures of just shoes, so forgive me in they're horrible.  Just let me know and I'll try harder!

Megan's First Premium Outlet Excursion

I have lived about an hour (maximum) away from the Wrentham Village Premium Outlets my entire life.  I've driven by them along 495 countless times, usually thinking to myself, "I'd really like to go there!"  My more fashion-conscious aunts have discussed their shopping trips there, the deals that they've enjoyed, and the things that they have wanted to get, but just couldn't that trip.

So, why have I never actually been there?  I don't really know.  But what is important, is that this morning I decided that it was high time that I went out there.  I didn't really head out with the intention of making any purchases and prepared myself for a lot of longing.  I looked up the list of shops and knew that this would be an afternoon where I would have to master self control.

After getting myself very lost (I honestly shouldn't be allowed to go anywhere for the first time on my own -- I was lost before I even left Boston), I parked my car shortly after 3pm, giving me a full three hours before the stores would be closed.  I wasted no time and started with Barneys of New York and Saks Fifth off Fifth. Within five minutes, I fell in love with a nearly $200 dress (wish that I could find a picture of it, hopefully some day I will).  Knowing that there was no way that I could purchase it, and feeling like I possibly shouldn't try on anything that I couldn't plausibly purchase, I did not find out how well it did (or did not) fit.  I did, however, try on a maroon dress that looked absolutely adorable on the rack and was in my price range.  Unfortunately, the bottom of the dress was banded and curled inward (again, wish I knew what this style was called -- but am still learning!) and I do not dig that look.  Especially on myself and most probably because I am short.

At Saks Fifth off Fifth, I mostly admired their sleepwear and their handbags.  The dresses, skirts, and sweaters all looked too big for me and the more juniors-targeted section was mainly leggings and skinny jeans.  I did manage to fall in love with the Calvin Klein Cable Satchel (pictured right) and spent a good fifteen minutes holding it and running my fingers across almost every inch of it.  I don't believe that I've ever held a bag (or any article of clothing or accessory) containing a metal plate declaring the designer's name. What I like about this bag (besides everything about the design and size) is that the name plate is inconspicuous.  It's there, there is no denying it, but his initials aren't plastered over every inch of the bag nor is there an almost entire side consumed by metal.  However, I did not indulge.  The price tag on one said $89.99 and another said $189.99.  I'm seeing it online for roughly $125-130, so perhaps I was a fool to not snag the bag at $89.99.  But this was my first trip out and I didn't want to throw money down on a bag before I know a little more about what's what or really feel out my tastes.

Other stores that I poked around in included BCBG (BCBG Max Azaria & Final Cut BCBG store with incredibly low priced everything), 2b Bebe (was expecting a regular Bebe Outlet, but instead seemed to stumble into BeBe for teens), Burberry (mostly winter jackets and $89 ear muffs), Calvin Klein (times two and this store included my only purchase -- a black shrug on sale... it fits perfectly), DKNY (again.. almost purchased a handbag that was on an extreme discount, but knew that as far as bags went, at that point, my heart belonged to Calvin), Gap, Guess (was hoping for more dresses, but drooled over all of the shoes), Juicy Couture (I was surprised to find two dresses and a jacket that I enjoyed), Karen Millen, Liz Claiborne New York (everything in there seemed to scream "mom" to me), Theory, Rue 21 (basically a glorified Wet Seal), and Kate Spade (I really, really enjoy the bold colors and shapes of her handbags).

There are so many other stores (http://www.premiumoutlets.com/outlets/store_listing.asp?id=10) to check out and hopefully I will get back there sooner rather than later.  I am also hopeful that the next time I will get there earlier in the day, with company, and be able to fully explore every store that tickles my fancy.

This wasn't my first Outlet shopping experience -- when I was twelve we went to an Outlet mall in Miami and I remember it fondly.  One memory that has always stuck with me were the models hired by the stores to walk around the mall in outfits for sale, holding signs for the stores of origin.  It was so far outside of anything that I had ever experienced and I haven't seen anything quite like it since.  Today was, however, my first fashion outlet experience that I consciously decided that I wanted to go to.  I was so excited that I had butterflies and I can't think of a better way that I could have spent my Sunday.  And this jaunt + the amazing shoes that I received as a gift this weekend (will be posting about them later) have made this the perfect welcoming weekend for my re-immersion into the wonderful world of fashion.

Scents and Sensibilities

There has been one aesthetic entity that I never lost appreciation for.  Even when I embraced the comfort of mediocrity through flared denim and t-shirts (and don't forget those white Adidas sneakers with the sky blue stripes), I never lost sight of the importance of smelling good.  No, not just good.  Better than good.  Beautiful.  Even if I didn't feel like I necessarily looked memorable and lovely, I wanted the impression of how I smelt to linger.

The importance of smelling good or scent-memory is nothing new, either.  Perfumes and the creation of pleasant scents (and the moods or influence that those scents can control) has been around and practiced for a very, very long time.  And growing up in a home of smokers definitely escalated my desire to explore the world of perfume.  Because while the kids at school might measure their 'coolness' on how many puffs they can rush from a cigarette at parties or accept and idolize the fact that their favorite celebs are photographed lighting up, they definitely were not all that accepting of the quiet, slightly quirky girl who reeked of Menthol butts day after day.

I lamented how it wasn't fair that my mother could smoke one right after the other, but still be able to douse herself in Elizabeth Arden's Red Door right before heading out, entirely masking the fact that she ever actually yielded the reek of stale smoke and nicotine.  But this mask, this perfume, connotated comfort, love, and warmth for me.  She wore this perfume for as far back as I can remember.  It may not have been the first and only perfume that she wore during my childhood, but it is the singular scent that I attach to her during this period of my life.  At this moment, years and miles away from our old home and our younger lives, I cannot conjure up the memory of the horrible smell that I detested so vehemently and cursed for so many years.  I can only call to mind the smell of Red Door and the image of myself as a little girl, curled up on my mother's lap. my cheek on her heart, and feeling the methodic undulating motion of her chest that made every other fear and concern disperse from my consciousness.

As I became a little older, I would lightly spritz some over my clothing (the worst offender of foul stench apprehension) right before school.  Even if no one else could smell the light, crisp floral scent, I was able to carry it close to my heart (and nose) all day.  And, at that time, as long as I was blissfully ignorant of any smell other than Beauty, all was well.  Unfortunately, this ceased to be the case as I became more accutely aware of the opinions and comments of my peers -- as well as the reality of the situation.  And it wasn't good.

I moved onto muskier perfumes, the kind that one squirt is more than enough to choke anyone in an eleven-foot radius.  The kind of scents that were so strong that they would rub off my clothing, onto other fabrics (such as furniture, blankets) and linger.... for a very long time.  The perfume that was given as a Christmas gift to my mother (who wound up later getting into Jovan White Musk -- another scent that I recall perfectly, associate with her embrace, and briefly wore as perfumed armor in school), but was far too thick for her tastes.  My early experimentation with a darker musk, led to my later (and admittedly still current) obsession with Patchouli.  But, first, I took a break from the musk and indulged in the hottest craze of the mid 90s --- Calvin Klein.

It started with spending far too much time stalking the perfume counters at Filene's, spraying on any and everything that came in an intriguing bottle.  Sometimes I would do my research beforehand, vigorously inhaling the advertisements in Vogue, Sassy, or Seventeen.  Kate Moss's heroin chic face, greasy hair, and disheveled countenance invited me to try on CK One and later dared me to Just Be.  I couldn't afford the $50 for the real deal, so I started with the U and U2 knock offs available at CVS, but eventually was able to emerge from the clouds of the $15 mimic with the pure androgynous magic of the name brand.  It was everything that my nose wanted -- a clean, classic air. 

Each bottle lasted me precisely one year to get through and I made sure to eke every last droplet out of those bottles.  When I couldn't press the nozzle hard enough for anything to come out, I would unscrew the top and drag the vein of the bottle across my wrists and neck, savoring whatever I could.

My college years and beyond have been spent experimenting with oils (Patchouli, Egyptian Goddess, Plumeria, Fire Goddess, Jasmine, and Krishna Musk to name but a few) and a variety of floral and vanilla variations to create an extraordinarily unique scent for myself.  No two days are ever the same as the combinations and amounts always vary, but the end result is always the same -- I smell great and people respond favorably.

Last spring, my fiance and I took a trip to Rome.  It was my first international excursion and I eagerly took everything in.  I didn't only pay close attention to the cultural differences and amazing antiquity surrounding me.  It fascinated me that the women were so put together -- stylish, pristine, and they all seemed to drag a current of floral essence behind them.  I had the goal of making one purchase while there -- in a perfumaria.  I never made it into one, however.

When we arrived home it became a mission for me to find a perfume that was sufficiently floral, without necessarily smelling like I wore petals all over my body.  What I found was Flora by Gucci (thank you Macy's). I was drawn to the classy packaging and the crisp, floral scent that left me feeling clean and exquisitely feminine.  It isn't a perfume that I wear on a daily basis, but that is mostly because I don't want to tear through it within a few months.  I wear this only when I want to feel soft and stunning.  When I wear this perfume, it is primarily because I intend for anyone who comes in contact with me to perceive me in this way; I want this smell to be connected to who I am and how I look in their memory.  It isn't the kind of scent that you just throw on haphazardly or just for going to the grocery store.  I rarely will even wear this to work, but I definitely don't want my co-workers considering me in a tender manner.

When I purchased Flora, I also walked away with a sample that I did not expect to become as attached to as much as I have.  Chanel Chance.  This is another light, feminine perfume (mixes perfectly with Krishna Musk, for those of you who happen to poke around New Age stores) and one that I would be more likely to wear on a daily basis.  Chance is the kind of odor the elates my heart.  The rush of the aroma breezing by my face when I move my hand, turn my face, or a breeze caresses my neck, twirling the air up into my nose.  It makes my smile and it is a moment that I look forward to.

For me, like for many (all?) other humans, smells and perfume has always been a vital aspect of my daily experience.  As we progress and as designers keep creating new fragrances (or improving upon classics), it is highly unlikely that we will ever fall away from this certainty.  It is tied to memory, love, fears.  It is powerful in fabricating our opinions and impressions of other people and places.  We may not always be consciously considering it, but it is true.  AND it is the one aesthetic indulgence that I never strayed from.... nor do I see myself anytime soon.

Megan, Fashionably Late

When I was awkwardly stumbling into my teenage years, I embraced the world of high-end fashion, fashion models, make up, beauty, and the wonderful artistic achievement of it all.  On the other side of this coin of extravagance, there was the hilarity of intense absurdity that can go terribly, terribly awry.  I recall scrounging up change, "borrowing" $5 here and there, and traipsing across my drab little mill town to CVS or Lincoln Drug in search of the latest magazines.  I would religiously follow Miu Miu (dreamy Tea Cup heel featured above), Calvin Klein, and Gucci, amongst countless others whose names I cannot recall and probably couldn't pronounce at the tender age of eleven. 

Unfortunately, I managed to seal my fate the day that I revealed to my mother and aunt that I really wanted to be a model when I grew up.  I idolized their apparent confidence, impeccable clothing and outfits, stunningly beautiful applied faces, and the photographs -- both the ornate and the simple.  The colors!  The adjectives that would fly into my mind just by considering their advertisements, spreads, runways -- stunning, exquisite, nonpareil, avante garde.  It was all terribly exciting to me and why should I not want to be a part of that?  My aunt was blindly supportive, but my mother was (understandably) a harder sell.

To a concerned and confused mother, this signals the beginning of the end for their daughter.  Eating disorders, distorted body image, and the throwing away of the pursuance of academic excellence flood their minds.  Or, at least for my mother it did.  I was instantly barraged by, "You don't want to do that!"  "That's not healthy!"  Yadda, yadda, yadda.  I held on strong for a few months, but slowly allowed myself to succumb to the lack of external support.  I immediately shoved the magazines on my bookshelf, stopped browsing the websites, and put the possibility of watching the then-popular televised fashion shows out of mind. 

I made it through the majority of my teenage years simply in denim and sweaters, no make-up, and my hair was either chopped in a pixie cut or pulled back in a single pony tail.  Very bland.  I didn't have a plethora of female friends and my mother didn't spend any quality feminine time with me to teach me how to "pretty myself up".  At sixteen, I cracked.  I bought some Doc Martens, some black skirts, and dark tops and began being classified as a goth from anyone who saw me and bothered to take any stab at shoving me into a subcultural definition.  I possibly tried to throw foundation on and when stuck at home, and only when stuck at home, would play around with eye liner.

To keep a long story somewhat short, I didn't really start wearing make-up until I was 24 and at 25 just started wearing blush.  There is still an uneven amount of influence from my 'darker days' apparent in my daily clothing than anything even remotely mirroring what I was interested in as a pre-teen and very early teen.  I stifled the interest and then started loathing it.  I told myself that I was deeper than that, I was above caring about clothing and accessorizing and being a woman as dictated by magazines and modern culture.  I would pity those that indulged in the pursuit of knowledge, expression, and purchasing of designer wear, because there are so many better things to spend your money on.  All that I have been doing, is a big fat denial of some aspect of who I am and of an interest that used to be very important to me.  I have been brimming with bullshit.

The purpose of this blog is to cultivate my re-introduction into this world.  I may not now (or ever) be able to afford the designs of Miu Miu or whatever other designers that I may awaken a taste for, but that should never dissuade me from indulging in learning and devouring everything that I can about them.  And who knows, possibly one day I will be able to afford something other than Betsey Johnson when found on extreme discount....