Overfrockenload

Well I'm finally through all the NYC Fall 2009 shows and I feel like my eyes have been seared out of my head from hours of clicking through slideshows. I am sure the prespective of actually being there and being, say, on your red chaise lounge with a cup of hot tea on a Sunday afternoon is totally different and therefore my opinions, for what they are worth, might be skewed. But I have to say that was just exhausting. I never thought I'd hear myself say this but I think I just got a little sick of runway (ok, it's not really true but there are other things I could be doing...like getting ready for Oscar night or reading the stack of 10 books beside my bed).

I only made a few notes on things and uploaded a ton of photographs but before I get into all that, I was wondering...do you recall the Woody Allen movie "Everything You Ever Want to Know About Sex but Were too Afraid to Ask?" Yeah, well I do, and apparently there was some sort of designer soiree where they all got together and maybe watched this movie a few too many times while sipping cocktails because this look was everywhere and I just have to say, what in the hell?



Once I got past that, there was a lot to be excited about. Lots of 40's inspired styles, lots of black (OH THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!), and I've fallen in love with someone (or ones) other than Marc (Tory Burch, Tracy Reese, and Jill Stuart, I am faithfully yours from here on out). London Fashion Week has started and I have to admit, I'm going to need a break. At least somewhat of a break from my fashion addiction. Now some may say I had cable installed this morning just so I could watch the Oscars and drool over the dresses...some might say that, some might say...ahem. But really it's all about the celebration of women, isn't it? Really, women amaze me on so many levels and the only thing really better than a beautiful, confident woman is a beautiful, confident, intelligent woman. And style is all about bringing it out from the inside and making a $25 dress work just as well as a $250 dress or $2500 dress. I'm such a "girl power" kind of woman in that way. In truth, fashion exists just for us; there is no sense not using it to our advantage, wouldn't you say (though I hate to say some may not at the Oscars). I'll get to that tomorrow.

Until then, these are a few of my favorite things:

Not MJ of course

I'd like to redact my earlier statement on American fashion...I obviously had some kind of brain glitch which made me temporarily forget my obsession with Marc Jacobs. I don't really know what the hell that was about...I mean how does one forget Marc Jacobs??? You don't unless you've hit your head several times in the past two months (check) OR you simply don't think of Marc as being all that "American" (check). He's up there in my top five and, really, those five are dimension-less amalgamation's of my wildest fashion dreams and therefore live like the gods; we shall call it Mount ValenMcQueenJacobiGallianWestenwoodenhaven. Or something like that.

Anystilleto, I've just gotten in from French class and am about sixty seconds from sleep typing so I'll make this fast. I love you Marc Jacobs. I love you for all your saucy strangeness and fiery rational. I love that (from what I've caught up with from the shows) you seem to be the only designer that did not take us back to bread lines and cloth rations...you did the extreme opposite and took us back to the '80's, quite specifically NYC in the 80's. Towards the end of that decade, my sister moved to Hell's Kitchen (when Hell's Kitchen was not interesting) and I was ridiculously envious. NYC in the 80's embodied everything I thought to be chic, edgy, and the epitome of cool. People were flashy, clothes were loud, torn and bordered obnoxious and I loved that. It was perfectly acceptable to wear red, yellow and blue together with black leggings. I had blue pumps, orange, pink and purple. Now I have brown, red, black and cream. Wooeffinghoo.

Screw playing by the rules and donning the gray cloud that hangs over America. I'm listening to this man:

Frock Central

If I wasn't depressed about the economy before, I certainly am now after watching all the shows back-to-back from New York's Fashion Week. I don't have it in me to go show to show, designer to designer as I would if say I actually lived and worked to do this (am open to job offers, though, you know...just sayin'), but here are some highlights. But before that, I'd like to say that other than the somber minimalism and few shining rays, I have come to the conclusion that I just am not, on a whole, particularly moved by American fashion. Not to say I don't support it...it just doesn't have that same joie de vivre that European fashion has. Or maybe I just live in the wrong country. And the wrong decade for that matter. There were a few things that actually scared me to the point of gasping: stirrup and harem pants (no! no! no!), unitards and biker shorts (wth??), and lots and lots of metallic (personal pref, or non as the case may be).

At any rate, enjoy these photos...they are my favs. xoxo, kvlm


(first three images: jason wu; united bamboo; following three images: ruffian; monique lhuillier; koi suwannagate; karen walker; hutson; bcbg max azria)

Oh SNAP! Cackle Frock

I'm not really sure in what universe this outfit is ok; and if such a universe exists where it is ok, I don't ever want to know about its discovery as I'm sure it would only destroy any idea of good and evil I have in the world.

After the week of Gywneth Paltrow kind of being all over the place following her very "controversial" (read: unacceptable) cover of the UK Elle Fashion issue (see below) and the premiere of her new film, Two Lovers, I'm a little surprised her stylist let her out into the world dressed this way. But then it occurred to me...she probably doesn't have a stylist because what stylist would allow such a fashion atrocity? Ok, Jessica Simpson's stylist probably but I think she's too busy being fired after the mom-jean-double-buckle-belt-tank incident of '09. But I digress...

Then it REALLY dawned on me. Perhaps this is the proposed influence of the Great One, as has been repeatedly suggested. The Great One, of course, being Madonna. Then I thought: but the thing is Gwynnie, Madonna could probably get away with leather shorts, leggings (footless of course), gold lame and gray suede kicks. But only Madonna. And only because Madonna wears her clothes, they don't wear her.

This is just bad on so many levels. It's not interesting; it's not unique; it's not avant garde; it's just a sheer and total disregard for the laws and rules of dressing. It's not this. This is fabulous in a way that only can be created (and worn) for a magazine like the UK's Elle. However, I'd like to jump on the no-this-cover-is-not-ok-because-it's-her bandwagon. Don't get me wrong, I'm not super anti-GP (she grates me but I don't know the girl; you really shouldn't judge people you don't know, as my stoic father always said), but then there are moments where my inner-Yenta gets the best of me and I just cannot help myself.

First of all, I'm about tired of having celebrities on the covers of all my fashion mags. I mean, seriously, some of us fashion junkies actually prefer models. I long for the days of Linda, Christy and their ilk. I only buy Vogue twice a year now (though I love you long time, Andre) because I'm so tired of the Blake Lively's of the world gracing the cover. I get that we are a celebrity obsessed society and hey, it sells. But shouldn't Vogue, and therefore all others, be above that? Leave the celebrity covers to Glamour and Cosmo. Give me REAL fashion. Please!

Second, I can think of at least five other worthy (authentic) Brits for this cover. I'm confused as to why GP is a "fashion darling." I'd rather see her mother, personally, in Armani Prive than to see this. Her fashion choices, as can be noted above, are ridiculously questionable and always have been (don't even get me started on the ballet pink Ralph Lauren number she accepted her Oscar in...ew ew and ew).

Third, did you read the interview? I only read excerpts and who knows, maybe the writer took some things out of context (it's not like writers aren't notorious for doing just that) but saying, "F**k the haters!" and then going on about smoking and drinking as if the haters are Camel-addicted alcoholics and she is grasping for the "i'm-still-cool" straw is a bit laughable. People don't hate you, GP, for the reasons you think. I think people are confused by you. You are married to a man who strenuously supports Fair Trade and you run on ad nauseam about your $600 jeans and Balenciaga bags. It's like people who go on and on while looking down there $10,000 nose job at you as they tote their Whole Foods bag to their gas guzzling $60,000 car as if you aren't as good as they are. It's hypocrisy and I am not a fan of hypocrites. Not to say that if I had your income I wouldn't shop til I drop on a regular, but advertising it is insulting.

These are hard times for us "little people." I don't know that we are so much "haters" as we are just people trying to make it in a world where the upper echelon continues to build wealth while the middle class is grossly depleted. Sure, I wish I had time for a newsletter on my macrobiotic recipes I make in all my free time for my adoring family but I'm too busy trying to keep it real. At the end of the day, I just think that's more important.

kisses, kvlm

Valenfrockentine

Allow me to start with a quick rant, because, well that's what I do. It's what I excel in. I am not sure if it is part of my being a total Yenta or it's part of the German/French blood line, but here goes...I'm one of these ridiculously anal people...when it comes to anything creative that is (not that other things don't matter, they just aren't "shiney"). Anyway, my lovely title bar that I so lovingly crafted with my man candy (aka husband) apparently does not appear the same on a laptop monitor as it does on a pc. To this I say, screw you html (or xmls or whatever we call it these days). Give me a dress form, some muslin and a 100 dress pins and I will make you something brillant. Give me html code that goes beyond bolding, centering or creating a table and I will show you my head on fire.

Ok, phew, I feel better.

Anyhoo, just a few quick links for all things devine for this Valentine's Day. I am a huge lover of lingerie so really, you don't need V-Day in my mind to splurge, but in case you are looking for the perfect chemise, here are a few ideas and a few links.

Agent Provocateur, of course(that website should be illegal; love the witch collection); Rigby & Peller, classically romantic (love the corsets and art deco pieces); Claire Pettibone, (highly recommend taking a look at Brianna, Amanda and Ilana -- the Ilana capri's and boyshorts are simply sumptuous!); and La Perla, oh La Perla.

I'd also like to give an honorable mention to Coco de Mer , but it is not for the faint of heart. You have been warned. kisses, kvlm

Frock 'n Boots

I'm a little behind so I'm going to see if I can crunch a few thoughts swirling around in my mind like a Pucci print (honestly, my brain probably looks like a Pucci which isn't so good when you think about it from a psychiatric stand point).

Let's talk about flat boots. Flat boots are very posh; they kind of give you that air of "I've-just-been-running-around-my-estate-in-the-countryside-of-England" feel and I completely dig that. However, there are rules.

1) They should not now, or ever (ok, maybe Halloween) make you look like a pirate

2) They should not now, or ever, make your foot look like some sort of strange alien life form by contorting it into kid leather that essentially makes your big toe bone stick out like you have bunions larger than an elephant.

3) They should not now, or ever, make you look like a Merrymen. I don't care if your father's name is Robin and your last name is Hood; if you look like an extra from a film set, take them off. Post haste!

4) They should not now, or ever, be worn with skirts of the wrong length; tricky business. Luckily, tall girls can get away with this much easier than those below the 5 and 5 mark. A knee length skirt on someone not of supermodel height, with flat boots, unless she's just a bean pole, will only serve to make her southern hemisphere look like a block. And no one aspires to be a block. And don't even get me started on wearing full maxi skirts with flat boots; I start having horrid visions of my Medieval Lit teacher and her support hose. Not pretty.

Flat boots are best worn with skinny jeans, pencil skirts, and mini's. Or basically follow the rule of porportion: what is above the thing that makes you look wider, wear something that makes you look smaller. Boots are fashioned for utility, of course, but also to make us feel a little manly. Therefore, your calves and feet might look a little larger. You don't want your butt sitting on top of that looking larger, do you? No, no you don't. Same goes for billowy chiffony or Grecian tops. Would you wear matching billowy pants? Only if you are Mrs. Roper. I saw a girl roaming about town yesterday with scrunchy flat boots, opaque tights, a floral baby doll belted at the empire waist with a super skinny belt. She had somewhat effortlessly captured that balance. I would have asked to take her photo but I'm afraid, in these parts, that might make me come off as some type of reportable stalker. The look was simple, chic and very late sixties London.

Anyway, I thought of posting some basic do and don't pictures but I got bored with that idea before it was even typed into search; I am sure you get the point. Instead, I'm going to give you the genius that is Alexander McQueen Fall 2009 Preview. Dear, Sweet G-d, thank you for Alexander McQueen. xoxoxo, kvlm

Sweetie-Darblog

I recently heard a rather disturbing rumor that we, the lovely U.S. of A., were going to remake one of the all time best British comedies, Absolutely Fabulous. Now, I'm a long time fan of Jennifer Saunders and Jennifer Lumley, who are, by far, two of the funniest women on the planet. Eddy's torrid obsession with Christian Lacroix is totally relatable to those of us with a couture addiction. And Patsy's need for a smoke and bubbly either while working out or immediately following...well, who hasn't wanted (or pretended to have) that rock 'n roll lifestyle at some juncture along the way? (ok, maybe an overshare on my part. ahem.) But trying to reinvent Eddy and Patsy U.S. style made me ever so slightly ill. Are we going to PC the Burberry plaid out of them and put them in California with a microbiotic diet and personal trainer? Because that may cause some sort of violent riot. (does it classify as a riot if it's just one person?)

Anyway, posts over the weekend have cleared some things up for us. Kristen Johnston, of Third Rock from the Sun fame, has apparently secured the role of Patsy and Kathryn Hahn, who has always kind of played the super adorable friend of the oft times too perfect leading lady, is set to play Eddy.

And I have to ponder that for a minute...hang on...wait for it........

Ok, I think I'm ok with this. First of all, Kristen and Jennifer Lumley, well they kind of look alike don't they? It's almost frightening the resemblance and Kristen is just ridiculously skinny enough to live up to the Rolling Stones groupie doing rails in the bathroom image that Patsy evoked time and time again. And, let's face it, Kristen is funny.

Now Kathryn as Eddy...that seems a further stretch because Kathryn seems a bit too clean for Eddy's ever-so-dirty lifestyle. HOWEVER, I think it rocks out that she is going to be the focus of what will inevitably be a series that every American AbFab fan will watch because we have no choice at all. We have to see if it sinks or swims. Will it be Ralph Lauren-ized to death or will it stay edgy and truly badass chic? Will it take place in La-la Land or make its way over to the one and only place it could exist as cooly as it did in London, New York? Will it be so PC that Eddy won't sweetie-darling us to death as she avoids growing old, getting fat, not getting laid, or not having enough Lacroix?

The beautiful thing about Eddy and Pats is the way they coat their imperfections in black eyeliner, red lipstick and sometimes insane but always avant garde and seriously sexy fashion choices. And we really need women who are REAL even if they are drunk more often than we are (well, some of us anyway). Other than the obvious difference between American television and British (that difference being substance...oh and gut-clenching humor), the other difference is their screens aren't laden with vanilla Barbie-doll perfection. Save it. Mess these two up; break them a little and please, for G-d's sake, give them LOTS OF ALCOHOL; but please don't screw it up. You are kind of messing with the Holy Grail of shows.