Today, I took a shapeless, elastic-waisted skirt in a forgettable floral print and turned it to something that no longer belongs in my “For Salvation Army” pile. For years, this (formerly) unfortunate Chico’s skirt hung forlorn and neglected in the back of my closet, and more recently, in a brown paper bag marked for donation. My mom had found it at a secondhand store and bought it for me because “but I thought you liked long floral skirts!” She was right – I did like them – back when I was in 8th grade and I’d wear them with Doc Martens. Plus it was Chico’s… not really my cuppa tea.
The first time I had heard of Chico’s was when I moved to the U.S. for college, and would spend hours in front of the TV catching up on years of missed American programming. This included cheesy daytime soaps and trashy talk shows, peppered with commercials for stay-at-home mom-friendly brands. I don’t know if anyone remembers the old Chico’s commercials, but they were always so corny: woman in mid-30’s standing on a rock on the beach, talking about how it’s a “Chico’s kind of day.” Eeek.. I cringe at the memory.
The other day, I was sorting one last time through my donations and I dug up this skirt. As I held it up to the light squinting, for a brief second I caught a glimpse of Kate Moss boho-meets-rocker-chic potential.
I was intrigued, so I put myself to the task of testing the vision. It was really just a matter of subtracting some sweet by adding some edge: white boyfriend tank, favorite Helmut Lang black button shirt with the sleeves rolled up,vintage leather/leopard print belt, antique-gold chain and shoes for the occasion– dusty gold skimmers for day or sexy gladiator sandals for night.
I have to say, the test was a personal success in that not only have I decided to keep the skirt – I’m actually really looking forward to wearing it.
Um, sorry Salvation Army.
6.17.09



A month ago, while scouring Shopstyle.com for harem pants (another current obsession), I came across a watery, storm-blue silk pleated pant by Maje, that had to be mine. In 2 days I was holding it – fluid, drapey raw silk, high-waisted and cinched with an elegant sash. I keep the pants clipped on my very best pant-hanger, on the one hook on the inside of my closet door so that I can see them, alone and beautiful, every time I open my closet.
I wear them with a simple, thin, white tank tucked in, and merchandise it with just one accessory – sexy Russian Red lipstick from MAC. Absolute perfection.




West 23rd Street and the surrounding area is quite unique: part strip mall with its cityfied Home Depot, Olive Garden & Best Buy, part community housing for the creative-types in the Chelsea Hotel or the visually-impaired at Associated Blind Housing, utter chaos with all types of cars racing down the massive two-way street, sirens shrieking, cars honking, people smoking and laughing outside Gotham Comedy Club. And, nestled somewhere between Duane Reade and Garden of Eden is a little bakery with bright purple awning, called Madeleine Patisserie.





