Eat, Pray, Lame

I’m not sure why I did it to myself. I had already read the crap novel. They just had to play that gosh darn Florence and the Machine song in the movie trailer. Before you could say the Dog Days are over, I went around telling people that I was going to see Eat, Pray, Love “for the scenery” or because “Javier Bardem is so hot.” Honestly, I’m a phony. I really just wanted to see it because I’m a sheep. Bahhhhh. I knew everyone would be talking, blogging and complaining about it and I wanted to join in the conversation.

It was just as I suspected - as lame as the book.

Here’s my recap:

Part 1: Wah, wah, wah! My job is unfulfilling! Being married isn’t like riding unicorns through the clouds! Having a house is lame. Blah, blah, blah. I’m putting my life in a storage bin and going on a trip.

Part 2: Italy - I’m going to eat gelato on a bench, swirl spaghetti in Rome, gain 10 pounds and read the newspaper on a Sunday! All alone!

Part 3: Made it to India - scrubbin a few floors, meeting a dude from Texas, gonna strike a few yoga poses,  meditate at 4 a.m. and walk around aimlessly until my flight to Bali takes off.

Part 4: Bali - Buy the Balinese medicine woman a house with all of my rich city friend’s donations. Find love with a super sensitive, super hot Brazilian divorcee.

The End

Let me ask this, why Julia Roberts? I found myself wondering, “why doesn’t Julia just take the train up to Lake Como? Doesn’t her wicked good friend George Clooney live there?” Then, “why doesn’t Vivian just go on vacation to see Kit on Hollywood Boulevard, maybe she just needs a girl’s weekend.” Oh, and you want me to believe that Julia Roberts doesn’t care about gaining weight? Come on, give me Renee Zellwegger, or give me someone who may actually gain weight for a role. The book was a best seller and every woman that I know is in the midst of some quarter or mid-life crisis, so it’s not like we needed Julia to get us to the theatre. Stop hogging all the roles Julia, give an unknown a shot.

Namaste.

Man Shops Globe, Girl Watches on TV

Do you love Anthropologie as much as I do? Ever wonder how they find all of their unique merchandise? Well then, Keith Johnson is someone you’re going to love to hate. Johnson shops the world as Anthropologie’s Buyer-at-large, and he claims he has the “greatest job in the world.” Johnson is appearing in the second season of his show, “Man Shops Globe” on the Sundance Channel, where he invites viewers along on his international treasure hunt – aka “work”. Think Anthony Bourdain, but instead of sampling (read: choking down) food, he flitters through flea markets sampling fashion, furniture, textiles and knick-knacks. Jealous?


Anthropologie continues to take Boston by storm, their latest outpost just opened on Brattle Street in Harvard Square. Have you checked it out yet?

Seasons of Change

There’s not much time left and the weather is crap. Tell me, what are we supposed to wear to work when it happens to be August and 64 degrees out and raining? My 3 pairs of white pants have been staring at me, taunting me, chanting “there’s not much time left.” And they’re right. This morning I looked at them wondering, “Why didn’t I wear you more” and then “why do I have three pairs of you?”

When the Nor’easter blows over and the sun finds its way back to Boston, grab your seersucker pants, your Sperry Top Siders and your belt with the whales on it and wear the crap out of them. Wear them to work every day. Then, put on those sandals that show your whole foot and wear them to your friend’s house, get on the T in your linen blazer, walk your dog in your Hawaiian shirt, go to the movies in your beach cover-up, and go out for a jog because you probably need some exercise (kidding.) But seriously, do whatever you need to do to ensure you got your money’s worth off of your summer wardrobe.

Oh, and relax on the real obvious fall clothes. Please, I know you’re excited, but it’s still August! You were that kid in the argyle wool sweater on the first day of school weren’t you? Just couldn’t wait to show off your new school clothes…

30 Before 30

How? Why? When did this happen? I’ll be 30 in a year or so. Holy good god. When I open my Harper’s Bazaar magazine next year the “Fabulous at Every Age” section will haunt me. No longer will I be allowed to dress from the “20’s” column. Goodbye flirty skirts, loud florals, risky mismatched prints, and anything else Mischa Barton wears.

Inspired by a best gal pal, I put together a list of the 30 things I want to do/obtain/see/experience before hitting the big 3 –0. Not surprisingly, many of the things on my list had to do with fashion.

#9 Pay off all credit card debt (most and any of this debt can be blamed on fashion)

#10 Buy the Burberry Trench Coat I’ve been eyeing for 5 years.

#11 Save at least 10k (bahahaha, how will this be possible with #10, 20, 23 and 26)

#20 Go back to Italy and find that amazing camel colored leather motorcycle jacket

#23 Buy the perfect black pumps

#28 Find an amazing vintage Chanel clutch

I assure you that the other 24 things on my list are completely selfless and will fulfill my life in ways that a pair of shoes would never be able to. For example, #2 Learn how to do a French Braid.

What’s on your list?

All Saints

All Saints made it to America! And I’m not talking about the British girl group from the 90’s – (“Never Ever” anyone?) I’m pretty sure a few of us chicas in Whtiman spent many a Saturday night driving around blasting All Saints and making trips through the Wendy’s drive-through in our friend’s black Mustang.

I’m talking about All Saints Spitalfields – the British high street shop that sells clothing aimed towards a young urban niche. The look is kind of a chic derelicte. It’s edgy, goth, deconstructed, distressed downtown cool. Reminds you of the sort of clothes you see in movies when they’re depicting “the future.” You know the time when the world will turn to ice and we will coexist with robots and live next-door to people named Neo and Morpheus.

The Saints came marching into Newbury Street in the huge space formerly occupied by Pottery Barn. The storefront windows display floor to ceiling antique singer sewing machines. It’s quite a sight to see – I had to take a picture of it actually. I had that instant shopping high as soon as I stepped in. I was psyched, they were really embracing the ‘pants over dress’ look – one of my trademark looks. I took a picture with my I-phone of one of the dresses and the salesgirl practically tackled me – like I was about to assassinate the All Saints President. She barked at me ABSOLUTELY NO PHOTOGRAPHY. I was kind of taken aback. I was like um…okay, I was just taking a picture of this dress because I’m on my way to a hair appointment and I really like it. She replied, “we have a website with plenty of pictures on it, you can find it there.” She continued, “I saw you take a picture of the window when you came in, I don’t know what you’re up to.” Now, you know maybe to the average salesgirl seeing me for the first time I might appear to be high powered fashion designer’s spy out to copy the genius of All Saints. Or maybe she recognized me as the influential Boston fashion blogger that I am in my own mind. Regardless, this girl hated me.

Funny story, a few weeks later I visited the All Saints outpost in Soho. Same sick set-up, same Singer sewing machines - but big difference. I actually witnessed staff taking pictures of some of the customers in front of the sewing wall. No one recognized me or hassled me. Boston, can you relax?

Oh and did I mention they have an entire category on their website for “jeggings?