Summer Wraps

I was reading the NYT today and saw Bill Cunningham’s photos of women wearing summer dresses with mufflers—to combat the workplace air conditioning.

While I like the look, this perpetually overheated fashionista (I credit this phenomenon to my Canadian tempera-ture-ment) couldn’t imagine donning neckwear on the street in summer, no matter how gauzy and cottony soft.

I’d carry a wrap in my bag and accessorize at the office; my street wraps usually include spinach and sprouts.

But in an ironic moment of taking fashion’s pulse, I did order three Indian-print long scarves from Anohki before leaving for vacation and expect to receive them tomorrow. Will I wear them this August? Maaaybe, while preening in front of a mirror chez moi, but I’ll probably save them for my cashmere cardis in early September.

And always on point, the lovely pve illustrated the same phenomenon. Love the slouchy posture, the sheath, the sandals, and the cropped hair.

I’ve been paying attention to short crops, as I have a salon visit on Wednesday and am seriously contemplating short layers. But that’s another post . . . And all this talk about wraps is making me hungry. Bon appetit!

If You Can't Judge a Book, Buy Its Cover

I’ve written about the marketing of literature by women before, but thought I’d show you this blog post by Diane Shipley at the Guardian (courtesy of Jezebel).

Shipley notes how women author’s book covers are getting the “chick lit” treatment, whether or not the book fits the genre.

And I suppose that men authors will soon be getting blue covers, with the sturdy Courier font.

Booties on the Beach

I’m feeling a little bit like a beached blogger today, complete with a slight cold, so I thought I’d show you these pewter peep-toe booties I bought for late summer/early fall.

The designer is not typically in my good books, but I’ve given him a pass because I like the shape of this footwear so much.

I’m seeing them with a pencil skirt or perhaps the Christiane Celle wrap dupioni silk dress . . .

But right now I’m seeing the clouds begin to clear, so I’m hopeful for one more beach day before hitting the road to Boston tomorrow.

Gone Native

Last night I tried a little fashion experiment: I dressed for the place (Cape Cod).

Buoyed by all the pinks and greens and soft reds, seeing how pretty they looked in the light of the Cape, I went native for a jaunt to Buffy’s.

Here’s what I wore (and please note that I’ve owned all items for a couple of years; nothing was purchased to be an “outfit”):

Peppermint green Lacoste polo (collar flat!). Mine is much greener than this—it closely approximates the Bonanno sandals below. Seriously, if you're going to match, you'd better match, right?!

J Crew stone shorts (of Chatham Bars Inn fame). No need to show these . . .

Bonanno Palm Beach sandals in pomme with creamy white whipstitching,

and my own individual touch—ENORMOUS Kate Spade tortoise sunglasses.

By the way, my preppy name is Cappy. What's yours?

Chatham Dining

Every summer on the Cape, we celebrate birthdays of my husband’s family at the Chatham Bars Inn. This is a gorgeous old inn, dating back to 1914, with a wrap-around porch for drinks, and an elegant dining room (jackets required!) with a lovely ocean view.

I find the formal dining room a little too, well—formal—and much prefer Chatham Bars’ more laid-back beachhouse restaurant just across the Shore Road.

That’s where we went this year and had a sumptuous buffet of mussels (I can’t get enough), swordfish, and risotto. And—oh—the desserts: tiny apricot tarts, mini cannoli, strawberries with crème fraiche.

So what did I wear? Comme toujours, I like to subvert native style, and donned a short coral tunic with brown bugle beading around the neckline (by Michael Kors), stone-colored shorts cut to show off my pumped quads from the great hill jogging (yes, I have leg vanity too), and my Chie Mihara gray sandals.

Hippie/boho luxe, if I had to attach a label.

Beach Style

Greetings from Chatham, Cape Cod! Your intrepid blogger is suffering through long days at the beach, homemade ice cream in the evenings (Buffy’s!), and pots of PEI mussels (any irony there?).

But there are also fashion discoveries to be made.

To wit: I’ve known about Roberta Freymann’s fabled stash of textiles for some years now, but have never made it up to her Manhattan shop. I had hoped that she had an e-boutique or sold her wares elsewhere, but the time I looked, she didn’t.

So I was thrilled to find her line of Indian hand-blocked printed tunics and pareos in a little Chatham shop. Called Roberta Roller Rabbit, this line of light, beachy clothing has delightful prints (a grown-up monkey print to go with my hypothetical chair) and delectable cottons (a hot pink embroidered with white).

As I’m in town a week later than usual, sales are in full swing, and, alas, the only sizes left are L and XL. And as much as I’m tempted to purchase and tailor, I know that I really don’t have the time. So I’ll enjoy from afar and maybe trek to Freymann’s store when I visit again in December. (I’m a true beach girl; I wilt on the city macadam.)

My true discovery, though, was a perfect miniature clamshell, open, but with its hinge intact; the size of a baby’s precious fingernail.

Cape Girl

Tomorrow morning I drive to Boston, where I’ll overnight at my b-i-l’s digs on the Hill and on Saturday I’ll drive to the Cape, where I’ll stay for a week.

I hope to be wired, so I’ll do my best to post as many entries as I can, but with all the beach time on my lazy schedule, volume may decrease (can’t have sand in the laptop, can we?).

I have some lovely reader mail to respond to and hope to think up proper answers while wading in tide pools.