Where in the world is the FG?

There are places I remember ...

And you? Get your kicks.

Thx Blue Fairy, again.

Creeping Fashionism

Note: This post is sponsored entirely by Princess Sparkle Pony, courtesy of Gawker.


AAAAAAAACK!

OK, that's it, feel free to go on with your day.

Shuesday: Beware of heights

It didn't take the 7 foot tall guy on the subway this morning to remind me that platform shoes are still in style, so I thought I'd check around to see what they're going to look like for spring. And if you're one of those cutsey girls who likes to dress up for Valentine's Day, these will be perfect for you.

I, on the other hand, will be wearing something more like these.

Little dogs, little dogs

everywhere I go I can see them. Apparently they're not welcome everywhere:

Local (DC) gossip writer Karen Feld exchanged strong words at the Canadian Embassy Wednesday with a burly guard who objected to her dog Campari entering a reception. When Feld huffed that she had the proper papers to take the tiny poodle everywhere from planes to the Capitol, the security guy barked, "We're in Canada now." The embassy apologized to Feld yesterday, and said the pup's always welcome.

At least someone has standards.

WAPost

Also, "Woman's Best Friend, or Accessory?"

Conundrum!

I love tulip skirts, and have a fun pair of navy & white shoes that need outfits to go with them, so I was delighted to pick this up from J. Crew this week.

The skirt arrived, along with the most recent catalog, and now I'm just angry. Because they've taken the print and made it into everything. There's a dress - on the cover no less! - a camisole, flip-flops, a tote bag!

Do I take it back? Or hope that a) no one else will have bought it, and b) everyone will have forgotten about it by the time the weather allows it to be worn. Or just sail above the fray because I know it looks great on?

Ack!

I'd like the truffles on the side

Reading Frank Bruni's review of Graydon Carter's re-launch of The Waverly Inn (in Greenwich, CT) this morning, the reference to the $55 macaroni and cheese with shaved white truffles (also the most expensive entree) reminded me that people have been saying, "It's so expensive there." in reference to moving to NYC. Well, it is and it isn't.

Rent is, of course, at least twice as much for less space. That's just the way it is here. Moving from a state without state income tax into a state and city with income tax cuts into the pay check considerably. Monthly transportation costs ($76 for an unlimited 30 day Metrocard) are more than I've ever paid, but I use public transit at least three times as often as I used to, and I no longer have a car payment or insurance fees. I'm prepared to say at this point that groceries - from the basics to the extravagant - are more expensive, but it's not as though anyone has room for food in their aforementioned small spaces, so who cares. Wine is also more expensive, and predominently French or Italian - I'm trying to see this as an opportunity to learn (anything) about old world wines.

Eating out is about the same, I swear. You do it more often (especially when you couch-surf for three months), but breakfast and lunch on the go don't cost more. Yes, this is a town of fantastic restaurants, but people don't eat at Gramercy Tavern every night, just as we didn't eat at Zoe or Mistral regularly. And take-out is a) far more available, and at any hour, b) just as good (although I can't find baingan bhartha anywhere), c) served in enormous portions, and d) cheap cheap cheap. And the same principles apply re: going out. Just because there are a zillion things to do here doesn't mean New Yorkers are rushing from avant-garde plays to masterpiece-filled museums to trendy gallery openings to fantastic bistros eight days a week. Their life expectancy would plummet.

Come to visit, and I promise to plan a moderately expensive weekend full of activities. In the meantime, I'm taking it easy. No need to do everything in the first few months.

Shuesday: The last resort

Although some of us can still feel the effects of the holidays, apparently we're supposed to be bikini ready by now for our mid-winter vacation. As if I even know where to find my gym gear. Hrumph.

The good news is that feet are among the last places we gain weight. So strap on a pair of these, and pick an island, any island.

Look what she's done for us

Annie, that is (I'm withholding my verdict on the senator from NY). Fantastic show this weekend, worth the wait and the crowds. We hemmed and hawed about the status of her relationship with Susan Sontag, but Wikipedia seems to have figured it out.

Followed by a delightful dinner here: fresh East and West Coast oysters, baked catfish over mashed potatoes and collard greens, and chocolate chip bread pudding with a side of fresh berries and real whipped cream, accompanied by a lovely bottle of Sancerre. Check out the menu - it's amazing.

Carbo-loading

Living in other peoples' houses is fascinating. I've done it off and on over the years, visiting friends for a weekend, or home for longer spells. And now I'm in the middle of 3 months of couch-surfing. The good news is that we're 95% certain there's a room of one's own to move into mid-February.

But in the meantime ...

When you're staying with people for more than a few days, they invite you to make yourself at home, and when you're house-sitting, that's part of the job. The latter scenario likely involves opening cupboards, as you've been told you're welcome to their contents. (I should say at this moment that I cooked last night for the first time in over 6 weeks, so please don't assume I've been helping myself to other people's heirloom sundried tomatoes, XXXXX-virgin olive oil, or secret truffle stash.) But the contents of said cupboards are something to behold.

The Fabulous Parents have the condiments market completely covered - jams, spreads, mustards, sauces, and bottle after bottle of salad dressing. This is a result of the Fabulous Father's inability to purchase only one of anything if it is a) on sale or, b) cheaper by the case. An excellent strategy when it comes to good wine, not as sensical vis a vis salad dressing in a household of two. The Scottish Cowgirl and The Cookie Monster once made the mistake of asking for spices from friends on a trip to India, and will never again need to purchase a cardamom pod. The Scot has an unrivalled collection of obscure liquors - I know because I helped move them. Others (I'm told) shop at Costco to assuage their limitless appetite for chocolate milk, and therefore squirrel away 120 child-sized boxes at a time behind closed doors.

In my current location, the residents are carbo-loading (this is belied by their very slender figures). There are boxes of pasta everywhere. Not oversized boxes, just normal boxes of Barilla. I count four on the shelf in the kitchen and 15 at first glance in one cupboard. If you know me, you know I'm capable of exaggeration, but this time I'm not kidding, I actually counted 15 boxes, without moving anything.

Is there a coming pasta shortage I don't know about?

Snow!

Oh, I could blog about the return of curly hair (again), the requisite boring article on D.C. fashion (comes with election/ascension of prominent woman) - why are we still worried about being taken seriously by the idiots we elect, exactly? But ...

• there are real live snow flurries in the place where I live
• I'm moving into a place soon to be vacated by its owners for two weeks (except for 3 resident cats), with laundry!
• my car has sold
• there's (finally!) an art museum in my immediate future, and
• a new apartment not far off.

Somebody pinch me.

Master Cleanse

After a serious deep fried food extravaganza, book-ended by champagne and followed by a bout of stomach flu, the master cleanse seems more than appealing. (also, everyone loves maple syrup!)

a fast that requires subsisting for 10 or more days solely on an elixir of fresh-squeezed lemon juice, cayenne pepper, maple syrup and water. While popular diets and fasts come and go, master cleanse remains a perennial favorite, a kind of folk regimen that owes its popularity to word of mouth and the Internet.

Created in the 1940’s by a nutrition guru, Stanley Burroughs, to treat ulcers and other internal ailments, the fast enjoyed a vogue in the late ’70s after the publication of his book “The Master Cleanser.” Its fans then were health-conscious types, interested in purging their bodies of impurities and toxins like pesticides and food additives. (...) fasters who drink six glasses of the lemony potion a day — the low end of the recommended amount — are consuming about 650 calories, far less than the 1,600-plus calories the average woman needs to maintain her weight or the roughly 2,400 calories a man requires.“Of course you’re going to lose weight, you’re starving yourself.” Seldom do the pounds stay off, she added, and people have a tendency to binge once they begin eating again.

The enduring popularity of the cleanse may have as much to do with its instant results as with the drink’s relatively inoffensive taste (think lemon Gatorade with a spicy kick) and simple recipe: 2 tablespoons lemon juice, 2 tablespoons Grade-B maple syrup, 1/10 teaspoon cayenne pepper and 8 ounces of spring or purified water. According to “The Master Cleanser,” Burroughs’s book, the lemon acts as a purifier and provides potassium, the cayenne pepper adds B and C vitamins and aids in circulation, and maple syrup, a sugar, provides energy and minerals. Burroughs suggested that fasters drink anywhere from 6 to 12 glasses of the stuff a day as well as a mixture of water and sea salt in the morning and an herbal laxative tea in the evening, to help aid in waste removal.

Shuesday: Golden Globes

I've risen from my sickbed to blog the shoes Reese Witherspoon wore at the Globes last night - SO beautiful, and fantastic to wear red with a yellow dress. Love them! I haven't been able to find them anywhere, but I'll keep looking.

UPDATE: Hello Shoebunny! Apparently I haven't been looking hard enough. Click the link for up close photos and (sold-out) shoe sources.

Rediscovering the sandwich

Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine,
I like sandwiches, I eat them all the time!
I eat them for my supper and I eat them for my lunch,
if I had a hundred sandwiches, I'd eat them all at once!

I used to like sandwiches for lunch in principle - lots of choices, compact and portable, but a sandwich made at 8 a.m. tends to be soggy at best by noon. Enter Pret a Manger - just a few blocks from my office, and they make fresh sandwiches all through the day. Delicious!

The Sandwich Song

Shuesday: Anybody want to polka?

Dot that is. These D&G pumps are simply lovely on a sunny day.

Speaking of Fabulous

In case you thought all we do is sit around and talk about food and fashion in the Boudoir, check out two of my fav Fab Guys.

My Fellow Canadian left the Emerald City this week for Mississippi to repair and rebuild houses destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. And The Politician is in Kandahar with the Canadian Forces - he's supposed to be sitting behind a desk writing speeches. but of course manages to get out in the field every now and again. Imagine seeing this outside your window in the morning:

Anyway, send them your best wishes - they're saving the world on the front lines.

Happiness is ...

Coming home to be greeted by one year access to the finest of art in the country. Wonderful!

Shuesday: Endless Love

Endless Shoes (and Handbags!)