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Balenciaga, yes thanks.

Oh hi.

I am so disappointingly underwhelmed by your resort collection (board shorts for women with fair isle sweaters, really?) but then you give me these, and Proenza Schouler, I forgive you. The shape of the heel is so fresh (even though its an evolution of the tapestry duck heels you did for fall) and it doesn't completely bore me like most other heels. So feel free to send my way or we could just meet up in the Berkshires. Thanks.





The never-ending, psychotic June rain is making me sassy. Will post some new photographs later on tonight--i've been on honeymoon with my Canon G10 but am afraid to take it out in this torrential nightmare.

I want a pony

Never did a pair of shoes find me so aggressively. The tips are steel, the hair pony.



Found at this great shop in Philly, i'll post the name when i can remember it.

An ah-wutta?

So mind the shoddy quality of my i-phone photography; but are you marveling at my decently impressive recent purchase, a crossbreed of Alaia and Louboutins? They're from Zara.
(It's not seamless, it's my sheets. And Chow Fun's paw--she too goes for white jazz shoes on her off days, just like me!)

Need a closer look?

I'm not being completely self-indulgent here, i deem this postworthy for several reasons. The first of which is that I've kind of resigned myself to not shopping cheap fashion unless its flea market-found or basics. Or rather, trying to convince myself to not shop over spending minimal amounts here and there for items that you wear three times and don't thrill you ever again. Especially at places like Zara and H&M where the "interpreted" items are practically directly copied and produced at much lower standards of construction. But at the heart of it, I think you should have pieces you love, simple as that, and nothing less. Not because they are expensive-looking-and-feeling, but because they are original. I feel hypocritical bringing up authenticity here, because what does that even mean in fashion...corrollary: the intense quagmire of trying to talk about fashion as art and image as power since it's all self-referential anyways...But i guess authenticity as measured by what the item means to you and the intent and how much you want it.

So the fact that I could not help myself at Zara makes me feel all strange and ashamed. They're not original though they are 'inspired' (um, directly). But they are SO good. Which brings me to my second post-worthy point. One of the things I've noticed, up until this year, was that the delineation between cheap shoes and expensive shoes is in stability and heel height and shape. You know what i'm talking about--like the Nine West spike heels that curve in and back out again (high school is coming back to me in a big way). And they're never high enough, because normal people don't wear hidden-platform-spike heels like they do in my industry, mostly because the high fashion exposure was limited to a certain group that would go for originals anyways. (Always kitten heels, which I don't see a point for, ever). And yes, maybe the turning point was Sex and the City blah blah--but i think the real reason why we're seeing such amazing knockoffs--with really high heels--is because of how viral the style blogging is, and how street style blogs created this new forum where images of Emmanuelle Alt leak to 16 year olds in tiny towns and then Net-a-Porter ships there. Kind of crazy.

But honestly, for me to invest in (real) shoes means they have to be all kinds of amazing, and then you know, you don't have tons, and you stress about ruining them, and then you just want a really fun Alaia-esque heel with naughty strappings and lo and behold you find yourself torn and then you justify it because Zara is Spanish! And you have lots of Spanish pride, from when you studied abroad in Madrid! Andre, can you weigh in here?

Anyways, any guilt i had was reduced this morning when I walked into work and one of the more fabulous editors i work with had these breathtaking shoes. And this editor only wears le top, (which is good for me since I bought a pair of Lanvins off of her, saving them from a fate at INA and her half-commission). And she blurted out, "Natalie, don't judge me, they're from Zara."

And there you go.
(KP's lovely feet)

Really, i think the moral of this story is that office carpeting is the greatest idea ever.

Too Miuccia?

Look at me so witty. I just read Nam Le's The Boat, which is an exquisite book of short stories, especially from a debut author who so easily could've fallen into Interpreter of Maladies-type immigrant-in-america tales. Anyways (and I guess a bit of a stretched-segue), Prada's collection reminded me of the last, title story in the book. If only for the colors and the impending-gloom of it all. And the fisherman waders.

But these shoes! So primitive and amazing. And they're not gothic, where i feel the trend in footwear has been so thoroughly saturated. They're part armor, part aquatic, and part baroque. Only Prada can get away with that.


However, i've worked where i work far too long, since my first response was a deep gasp and the second was, wait, the heels aren't high enough. Thoughts?

I need more synonyms for "genius"

I mean, I don't even know what to say about yesterday's collection from Calvin Klein (by Francisco Costa). Talk about influence, skill, vision, and art in fashion. It's so damn precise, it hurts.


The cut-away of the coat panel looks like Miro.



Degrade silk? Whatever it is, it's perfect.
Again, the asymmetrical, curved lapel. Francisco Costa is a genius.

The constructed ripples in the fabric of these dresses remind me of the work of artist Eno Henze (who I posted about recently). I can't think of anything, in my mind, more aesthetically pleasing. That effect gets me more than anything else.

Do you need a closer look? So did I. In my hypothetical dream-like situation, I'm saving for these boots:


If fashion has a language*, Francisco Costa is its most articulate speaker, translating brilliance into buckles, seams, and panels.

*Errr, fashion does have a language. But with the exception of the extremely gifted Cathy Horyn, it does not meander far from "heaven," "I die," "beyond," "ew," "heinous," and "bananas."

PS I Love You