Violet and Olive

I know: the title to this post reads like a twee children's label.

That connection's not inappropriate, though, for I have gleaned colour inspiration from the considerably upscale children's catalogue Papo d'Anjo.

Children's clothing usually doesn't translate into colours or styles that I would like for myself, but I find the combination of violet and olive irresistible. 

Now: to find a grown-up sized version of this colour palette (that doesn't involve cable-knit cashmere)!

Modelskip

Do you know the proofreader's worry of "eyeskip"?  It happens when you read a sentence that's missing word, but your eye fills it in automatically.

I experienced a similar phenomenon yesterday while spying the new L. L. Bean Signature catalogue out of the corner of my eye.  From my vantage point, the model on the cover resembled Carolyn Murphy, of early Prada, mid Lauder, and late Tiffany fame.

So when I actually paged through the catalogue, I was still under the illusion that the blonde model was Murphy, until I snapped out of it!

This instance of "modelskip" reminded me of the years when I was convinced that Carmen Kass was the daughter of Carmen dell Orefice.  File these model genealogies under the late, great Spy magazine's Separated at Birth feature.

Sprousing Up

(Yes: I am back again early, but I will sneak away again.)

When I lived in Montreal, in the mid 1980s, Stephen Sprouse was the rage.  I remember loving his graffiti-print clothes and was utterly thrilled when I found a jumpsuit that riffed on the above color and print.

The jumpsuit was made in Paris and was on deep sale, probably because it was challenging to wear.  Maybe Montrealers didn't want to have letters all over their clothing; maybe that language law business was an influence; who knows?

In any case, it definitely had more letters on it than does this vintage Sprouse swimsuit, above.

The jumpsuit, my jumpsuit, had a halter top with a modest circular neckline that buttoned in back.  It had a definite waist, no belt, and the trouser portion was slightly cropped, with a gently flared hem. 

Just looking at this tiny swimsuit makes me happy, though its letters form a very short story indeed.  An endnote, perhaps?

A Stephen Sprouse sketch.  And maybe a novel.

Wordsworth and Wedding Dresses

Here I am, popping in early, but I will go right away; I promise!

I have been thinking about my wedding anniversary, which is in a couple of days.  And I think that when an impending anniversary is soclose, one tends to be hyper aware of things that recall that day.

So I guess I shouldn't have been suprised to see a postmodern update of my ideal wedding dress on a blog, but I was.  Regular readers will know that I was/am not interested in traditional white wedding dresses for myself; I got married in a tuxedo jacket with a nipped-in waist worn as a dress.

But before I settled on that "dress" from my closet, I wanted to buy a navy blue dress by Chanel.  It was beyond my graduate school budget, so after trying it on I had to move on. 

I haven't really thought of that dress in detail in years, since I didn't take a photo of it and since my wedding was before the era of style.com.  However, on a visit to a fellow professor's blog I saw this Vivienne Westwood dress and consider it the perfect revision of that original Chanel.

All the elements I liked are there, though interpreted differently.  And, gentle My Wardrobe, although this dress must remain in your wardrobe, and not enter mine, thank you for the happy memory: it's a Wordsworthian example of emotion recollected in tranquillity.

Run Aground

My blog will rest on a sand bar for a bit as I chase a couple of deadlines. 

See you in a week, when the horizon will be, once again, as vast as in this image!

Everything's Coming Up Rosebuds

Call me Citizen Kane, but I've been seeing rosebuds everywhere. 

Here's my latest sighting, on a sheer blouse by Dior.

Mounties Meet the Flag? An Exercise in "Canadian Style"

If it takes me more than 5 minutes to draw a picture for the What I Wore Today Flickr group, then I know I'm trying too hard.

So please rest assured that this quick sketch is exactly that--and I'm posting it here because I cannot log in to Flickr (why oh why?).

It's a peek at what I wore in a recent fashion show to celebrate international culture.  Witty works better than pretty for me, when I'm prowling the catwalk with my young students, so I put together this "classic Canadian" look:

white wool beret from Parkhurst (with tiny Canadian flag pin for accent);

crimson 1960s long jacket from London Fog (an eBay purchase), made of heavy twill.  I like the round buckle and forgot to draw the flap patch pockets in my buckle-y enthusiasm.

J Crew Minnie black pants;

J Crew black riding boots.

I was going for a Mountie/flag hybrid, just in time for Thanksgiving.

Happy (early) Thanksgiving, Canadian peeps!

Rose Parade

Continuing my rose parade, today I wore this Liberty of London shirt. 

It has pink roses and rosebuds scattered all over.

I like how the sweetness of the print balances the men's wear details.

But I still toughen up the whole look, with skinny trousers, a sweater tied around my waist, and very pointy flats.

Platinum Blondes and Roses

A gentle reader sent me this image of a rosy pillow, thinking that I might like it.

And indeed I do:

It perfectly complements my imaginary rose wardrobe,

which consists of this (now vintage) Tom Ford for YSL rose-bustier dress:

and this YSL for YSL rose bag:

Even the color name delights: platinum.

California Dreaming

Sure, the NYT travel magazine printed a story on this place last week, but I've been hearing stories about it for years from Mr. C, who spent a night or two here while driving Route 66 some years back.

I would like to have breakfast at the fireplace table, above,

after awakening from a saltwater sleep in this bed:

and after a day in the ocean, while watching the sun set, would have something to eat and drink at this bar,

enjoying how the dying light warms, then cools the room.