Know Thyself…

I’ve been in search of the perfect fedora…something halfway between West Hollywood hipster and Michael Douglas in Romancing the Stone.  Perhaps we shouldn’t call it a fedora at all–maybe I should call it a not-quite-panama-hamburg-with-at-least-a-2-inch-brim.

I thought I’d found what I was looking for in the unlikeliest of places: J. Crew

Yes, Yes, I know, I know…in the past I’ve swanned around your apartments ridding your closet of your hard earned J. Crew finery…but it might be THE HAT I’M LOOKING FOR.

So I walked in and grabbed one of their Panama hats…it was too small.  (Their hats have SIZES!)

I methodically wandered through the store, trying to find the elusive size M-L (I won’t comment on all the annoying PR girls asking why there weren’t any size 26 jeans available in white…) I finally found my size on the mannequin and went off to find the nearest mirror.  En route, I grabbed a gray and white striped boatneck tee that felt very Breathless to me.

I stood in front of the mirror and tried to make the hat work.  I tilted it this way and that, trying to make it look just so…  Then I held up the t-shirt and tried to imagine myself in the outfit…hat, tee, baggy boyfriend jeans and flats…

Then I thought…

WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING?  I DON’T WEAR SHIT LIKE THAT.  AND THIS HAT DOESN’T REALLY FIT.

So I put hung the shirt back up on its display, put the hat back on the mannequin and walked towards the subway.

You can’t say I didn’t TRY…

Kissing You Deadly (with ellipsis),

Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth’s Voluptuous Vacation

I’m sitting in the castle on an early Wednesday afternoon, alone, wearing a wooly sweater, Physique 57 exersocks and my favorite Be Present yoga pants.  I’m wrapped up in a camel-colored cashmere blanket that I rarely use.  I haven’t turned on the television once and have been drinking white tea (gifted from my mother two years ago) from a small turquoise teapot, reading a cookbook (which arrived yesterday via Amazon.com) and listening to the shrieks of children playing on the jungle gym outside.  I even made myself a proper lunch–I used the stove and my mother’s 1970’s era Le Creuset omelette pan, garnished my edible delight with parsley and lime juice, and savored the flavors and colors of my bounty as opposed to wolfing it down in the name of sustenance.

I’m in heaven.  A quiet, simple heaven that I haven’t taken advantage of in a very long time.

While I’m unsure as to what prompted this very un-Ferris Bueller-like day off, I’m happy it’s here.

The cookbook I’m reading is more of a delicious food memoir, Miss Dahl’s Voluptuous Delights, penned by Sophie Dahl–a onetime London it-girl and Roald Dahl’s granddaughter.  (She has her grandmother, Patricia “I am a stylish girl” Neal’s saucer-like eyes.) Sophie was a tall, Rubenesque Londoner who was famously discovered by Isabella Blow while crying on the steps of Ms. Blow’s apartment building.  She was first a famous not-quite-plus size model of Anita Ekberg-ian proportions.  I will admit to being enamored of her for quite some time and following her comings and goings in OK! and Heat magazine.  And…I will also admit to being a little bit sad when she lost quite a bit of the weight that made her such an inspiration.

Old School Sophie

Grandma Patricia Neal

But back to the book…she recounts, in yummy detail, her journey from youth to true adulthood and happiness through food.  She is a woman who loves to eat, who savors all in life, and lays out scrumptious, fairly easy, seasonal recipes that have nourished her from the inside out.

I’m a little inspired, I have to say…  I can relate to Ms. Dahl.  Though my journey from youth to adulthood is measured in costume jewelry, aqua blue stretch pants and trips to Alice Underground for the perfect pair of used Levi’s 501’s, the result is the same–food shaped the woman she has become, just as shopping shaped me.  It’s SO worth a read.  And you’ll get lost in her fanciful descriptions of nursery tea, jacket potatoes and cardamom-spiked dosas.

I’m now in the mood to make grilled Papaya with lime–do you think a trip to Union Market will ruin my current sense of contentment?

We’ll see.

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

I’m Becoming My Mother…

Macbeth and I have long been fans of eating out.  There are several restaurants in Glamis that are our mainstays: La Lunetta, Alma, Char No. 4 and Prime Meats.  However, lately, we have been doing the unthinkable: COOKING!

Now, thus far we have just dipping a toe–maybe two–in to these waters…the interior of our stove is still blissfully pristine–but both the cooktop and our marble counter have been quite busy…

In addition to our beloved George Foreman Grill, we are now the proud owners of modern gadgets like a microwave, a blender and a slow cooker.  The slow cooker feels especially exciting: throw a bunch of items in at 7am, come home at 7pm and all the work is done for you…simply grab two plates and two forks and all is right in the world.

Our giant refrigerator which used to house only butter, prosecco, a Brita filter and string cheese, now boasts all sorts of vegetables (crisper drawers aren’t just for show!) and there are times when we have to rearrange things to make all our groceries fit.

Friday night, there was some talk of a roving moving night for which we would make barbecued beef brisket–taking this whole cooking whim to a new level–cooking for OTHER people, who may not have the same salty paprika palate as I?  CRAZYTOWN.  It might happen.  Or, it might not…in which case I’ll run to Stinky and get a distracting smorgasboard of chorizo and cheese to make our guests forget what we were supposed to make with our bare hands.

Oh, and have I mentioned the acoutrements?  I’ve found myself looking longingly at Le Creuset displays at A Cook’s Companion.  (I do, luckily, have a few old school Le Creusets gifted to me from my mother.)  And I REALLY REALLY want a rice cooker.  And a giant Cuisinart.  And a new air-popper.  And a VitaMix, in case we ever have raw foodies over for dinner.  (Or I want to try and make a RawLouLou recipe.)  And a SodaStream!

Perhaps even an Electric Composter…

Macbeth thinks I’m constantly on the hunt for the perfect machine that will make cooking less work…

Wait–I’ve got it–instead of investing in all this hardware, I’m going to hire a personal chef!

What?  Bad idea?  Too expensive?  Too Real Housewives?

Fine…back to the slow cooker.

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up in String…

Maria had them.  Oprah has them.  I have them too.

FAVORITE THINGS.

But unlike Fräulein Maria and Ms. Winfrey, my favorite things are neither mundane nor within my budget.  Well, to be honest, I could afford most of my favorite things, if I saved up or stopped going out to dinner for a couple of months–but even then, I don’t know if I could pull the trigger…

Why is it that our minds will let us buy 4 things that cost $300, but not one thing that costs $1200?  If that were the case, wouldn’t we all have less stuff?  And lead less cluttered lives? I’m all for fast fashion–but how many of us have clogged our dressers and closets with booty from Target, H&M, Zara, Forever 21, etc that we wear once or twice, forget about, and then two years later find in a wrinkled ball, realize the trend has passed and haul it in a granny cart over to the Salvation Army?  I’m not saying that our wardrobes should be filled with $1200 Derek Lam dresses–but what if they were filled ONLY with things we loved, that wouldn’t go out of style after 2 months, that looked great on us and lasted wash after wash.  Would having ONLY favorite things mean we’d take better care of our stuff, never use wire hangers and always obey the care labels?

It’s worth pondering…

So, here, without further ado, are my favorite things that I don’t currently own.  I’ve tried them all on, admired them in windows and danced around dressing rooms IMAGINING they were mine:

Bulgari Zero Ring

Cartier Panthere Ring

Slane & Slane Necklace

Burberry Trench

Norma Kamali Swimsuit

Repetto Patent Flat

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

Zen and the Art of Lady Maintenance

I was sitting around the spinning wheel this afternoon, speaking with handmaidens, when the topic turned to the ways in which we maintain our femininity.

As many of my loyal subjects know, I’m big on the art of Lady Maintenance: Nails, Eyebrows, Upper Lip, Bikini.  Once upon a time I waxed my legs but quickly found it too expensive and time consuming–a Lady Bic (or, often, Macbeth’s razor) works just fine.

I have a particular friend who swears by laser treatments.  And another who swears by something called “hard wax.”  A third, however, doesn’t do much at all.  She’d rather put that maintenance money into a good bottle of wine or a trip to a far off land.

Though I’ve tried many times to get my girlfriends to conform to my idea of maintenance, I’ve realized that every woman has her ritual, and far be it from me to change something that’s so personal.  (Unless, of course, said ritual involves Crocs or short shorts, which in very few cases are truly unforgivable offenses.)

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

The Fantastic Fetish That Is My Feet…

‘Tis the Ides of March.

What do I do when contemplating political intrigue?  Why, think about shoes, of course.  Because when you’re fleeing assassination through the halls of a grand castle, footwear is important.

The shoes I’m dreaming of, however, are not necessarily flee-friendly…but, if I throw them just so, they may take someone’s eye out!  All are available at Shopbop.com

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

Riot Grrrrl Style…

As an adolescent lady, I was obsessed with all things House of Style.

Before the Fashionista, Racked and Refinerys of the world, Cindy Crawford was the arbiter of all things hip and fashion.  (Well, her and Elsa Klensch, but she wasn’t nearly as fun as Cindy C.)

Because of House of Style I discovered Paloma Picasso’s Mon Rouge nail polish, the Mason Pearson hairbrush, Murray’s Pomade, Wheatgrass juice and, most importantly, X-Girl.

X-Girl was the brainchild of Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon and all her Paper Magazine-approved friends: Sofia Coppola, Spike Jonze, Ione Skye, Donovan Leitch, Zoe Cassavetes, Chloe Sevigny, Harmony Korine.  Oftentimes one would spot them at the Angelika waiting in line to see the newest Alison Anders film or slurping noodles at Kelley and Ping-wearing X-Girl and X-Large, seeming effortlessly cool and downtown, in that mid-90’s way that will never be recaptured.

I owned 3 X-Girl T-shirts and 1 tote bag.  Friends and I would make the pilgrimage to the X-Girl store on Avenue A, feeling incredibly intimidated.  After all, we were just a bunch of Brooklyn kids who wanted to look cool–we didn’t actually hang out at Don Hill’s and listen to Luscious Jackson.  T-shirts were all I purchased because, honestly, they only had small sizes on the racks and I felt too intimidated to ask for a larger size.  (I wasn’t always the femme fatale I am now.)  Oh, how I longed for a pair of X-Girl Kickaround Pants…  When I wore them to school I felt empowered, as if Ms. Gordon had woven Riot Grrrl backbone into the fabric.  (Watch out Kathleen Hanna!)

The tees and tote are long gone, recreated only in my memory (and perhaps some super 8 film that exist somewhere).

But, thanks to YouTube, I can revisit the fashionable folly of my youth…

Renovation Nation: Butter By Nadia, Vintage and MORE!

I’m Getting Too Old For The Oldest Profession…

‘Tis the question many women ask themselves after entering their third decade of life:

“Am I too old to shop at Urban Outfitters?”

The answer is yes.  And no.

Are we too old to wear high-waisted acid wash jeans with jelly sandals and three artfully layered tank tops?  YES.

(Of course, I would argue that NO ONE should be wearing said outfit to begin with…)

Are we too old to wear Urban’s ugly reworked vintage?  YES.

Is it sacreligious to purchase a skintight Ramones t-shirt there? YOU BET YOUR BLITZKREIG BOP!

However…

Urban’s collaborations with designers like Steven Alan, Yaya and Lyell have some lovely, wearable, affordable pieces that would be a great addition to almost anyone’s wardrobe (within reason–old crones should probably stick to Jaeger and the like…).  Even their house Kimchi and Blue line makes great silky tunics that look great as short dresses or paired with jeans.

Don’t let the “I spend my life at Bonaroo” styling on the website turn you off.  Go to the store (I prefer the one on Atlantic avenue, as it has yet to be colonized by NYU mafia) and check the stuff out in person.  You might be surprised.  And your wallet will thank you.

Kissing You Deadly,

Lady Macbeth

Lucky Girl…

I am not a big fan of the styling in Lucky Magazine.  There’s too much layering for my liking, which makes most of the models look like Trustafarian magpies.  Not a style I want to rock while walking the halls of Glamis castle.

The April 2010 issue of Lucky is no different, except for the cover…

Jessica Szohr is wearing an amazing Orange bias-cut Ralph Lauren dress on the cover…and it is SPECTACULAR.

In fact, I can see myself wearing it this summer with insanely high, tough girl wedge booties and tangles of necklaces.  Maybe even a straw fedora…

Ooh.  Now I’m on the hunt.

It’s nice to be inspired–especially since, these days, most boutiques and magazines leave me with little more than an “eh” to get excited about.

MUST try the dress on.  MUST MUST MUST.

Kissing you deadly,

Lady Macbeth