Archive for February, 2014
- A few creative and brilliant women over 80 you need to know about. (Flavorwire)
- Amtrak is starting residencies for writers. (The Wire)
- An HBO show about Silicon Valley types by the man who brought us Office Space? I am so there. (Slate)
- Likewise, I am always up for a rundown of secret weapon beauty products employed by the pros. (The Cut)
- There are some real pips on this list of 19th century euphemisms for sex. (Mental Floss)
As a kid, my friend Kiki had the best birthday gambit going. Her parents, who’d divorced when she was quite young, felt so guilty about the fact that she would never observe the big day with both of them at the same time that they created something called Princess Week, wherein the entire seven days leading up to her birthday were so awash with Kiki-centric activities she’d never have a moment to feel sad about what she wasn’t getting. There were many gifts, of course, and there was staying up late, and two birthday cakes instead of just one, and she was the envy of all her friends. When we met, in our late twenties, Kiki told me about Princess Week and I insisted it was something we needed to resurrect immediately, and so we did, in kind of a jokey way, for a very many years. We did one another’s bidding, self-gifted lavishly (frequently purchasing items that on any of the other 51 weeks on the year we would reject as well beyond our means), and ate nutritionally unbalanced meals. It was a lark, and it kept birthdays light during years when they were just beginning to feel heavy.
Then I got married, Kiki became a mom, and Princess Week went away. But yesterday—after a weekend spent in a serious funk about turning 50—I have decided that Princess Week is back on. For the next seven days, it’s going to be all about french toast with bacon, new Jerome Dreyfuss bags, esoteric spa treatments, and whatever else feels right. And I’m thinking I’ll use Princess Week here as an excuse to indulge my nostalgic side and revisit some favorite themes: like for instance leopard prints, which were my gateway drug to serious hardcore print obsession and therefore form a sort of foundation for so much of what we do here. This sweater has got as classic a leopard print as you could ask for, and I, for one, am extremely close to buying it.
The burnout effect on this scarf is not only pretty much the coolest, it also keeps the print on the subdued side.
These sunglasses read almost like they’re tortoiseshell, but you’ll know they’re something far more rad.
Yes, these jeans are way too young for me. But they’re also just the type of not entirely well-advised purchase Princess Week was made for.
A handy pouch for your whatnots.
My key rule to wearing leopard—since it can skew so cheap if the execution is bad—is to stick with pretty classic shapes. This coat is just precisely what I’m talking about.
I look at this and wonder: do I think it is cute because I’ve gone snow blind from looking at too many prints and lost all perspective?
Clever, clever: the stripes here are actually lines of dots. And it’s so flattering, the way they sweep upward at the neckline.
- I’m a sucker for a story about over the top debutante culture. (Daily Mail)
- That time Jayne Mansfield laid down a track with Jimi Hendrix.
- For those mystified yet oddly drawn to Olympic curling: this. (Laughing Squid)
- Huh. (The Frisky)
- I am so happy to hear that HBO is renewing its dark comedy Getting On, which has a fraction of the viewership it deserves.
I have been in a real mood the past few days, and I totally blame House of Cards. There are not enough antidepressants in the world to make it OK to binge-watch that show, and yet I couldn’t help myself over the weekend, because it is just so crazy good. Still, we hate it when art hurts our souls.
I crammed in about ten episodes in over the weekend, and by Sunday night was suffering from full misanthropy overload. A visit to casa Tribeca Mom was just what was needed to take the edge off. As her two perfect offspring watched Mary Poppins and Tribeca Dad prepared dinner, I tore into the big old bag of beauty products she’d brought me from work. Things started looking better immediately. This lip color from YSL is a both a gloss and a stain, and appealingly light. It comes in a nice variety of colors, but I surprise myself by liking this mauve-y tone.
In my effort not to be such a rookie in the eyeshadow department, I’ve been trying to do that thing where you blend a lighter hue above your darker one so you don’t just have a single abrupt slash of color. This selection from Chanel goes perfectly with all my browns and eggplants.
I generally splurge on fancy eyeliners, but this trio of kohl-style pencils from Physician’s Formula is rather fantastic. They’re simple to use for one thing, and the lighter shades are actually more flattering than straight-up black on me, something I’d never have known.
I do not like a cheekily-named beauty product, and this mascara from Too Faced is a prime offender. But it is too seriously good—thickening, lengthening, and conditioning too, apparently—not to share.