In case you didn't get the memo

I'm flying off to my new life in Edinburgh tonight, never to return.

OK, not /never/ to return - yes, I can be a drama queen. I expect to be there 2-3 years, before returning to my homeland in the Great White North.

The luggage will at least get across the Atlantic - cross your fingers it gets from LHR to EDI, please!

I'll miss NYC, but I will be back, I promise. And there will be fabulous in Edinburgh, I'm just sure of it.

Occasional Baggage: Part IV

This post is appropriately timed because the movers came yesterday and gathered all the things I carry and took them away in a big truck so they can travel across the Atlantic and meet me in Edinburgh in 5-6 weeks. There will be no shopping for a while - the thing about packing is that you realize really just how much you own, and no one is certain that there are sufficient closets in the old country for all my bits - but a girl can dream, and who doesn't love black ruffles?

Actually, this also reminds me a bit of several of J. Crew's latest tops.

Valentino at BG

Photo courtesy of Fashion Fuss

Shuesday: Speaking of ridiculous

Recently, in the Times:

Are high heels all about sexual advantage, since they elongate and exaggerate the female form? Or is there another explanation? What liberates women and what shackles them, when it comes to shoes?

Anna-Marie Fitzgerald, a book publicist who lives in London, is co-editor, with Phoebe Frangoul, of Pamflet, a feminist fashion and pop culture zine and blog says:

Elongating the leg and squashing the toes, a skyscraper shoe is an addictive, paradoxical combination of pain (ouch), power (taller, but you can’t walk) and beauty (a peep-toed sigh). That Louboutin under-lick of red is a tantalizing hint of flesh, the stiletto spike a phallic shadow and in one’s pinched toes — sensation there lies an exquisite kind of torture. We can’t honestly wonder at the agonies of the 19th-century corset or foot-binding when we’re obsessed with “the shoe,” can we?

And, as Jennifer Scanlon is author of “Bad Girls Go Everywhere,” a biography of Helen Gurley Brown, and a professor of gender and women’s studies at Bowdoin College, says:

As Helen Gurley Brown realized, women are no better — and no worse — at making decisions big and small than men are. They simply have more shoes to choose from — and make a wider range of choices. Who’s going to draw the line on just how high a heel is practical, or healthful or sexy?

Edinburgh wardrobe: Part 6

I do like a suit, and red prevents anyone from blending in with the rest of the penguins. Plus, it's Dior ...

When in doubt

At a sample sale, it's always better to buy first, and answer questions later.

Madame Royale

This royal fleur-de-lis represents Marie-Thérèse Charlotte, the eldest child of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI, who was known by the honorific "Madame Royale." She was imprisoned from the time of the French Revolution in 1789 till the end of the Reign of Terror in 1794, and was the only member of her immediate family to survive.

My first WendyB piece! And I love that it's dedicated to a survivor. If my mother's taught me anything (and she's taught me a lot), it's the importance of survival. Which will help with the gray skies of Edinburgh to come.

Also, I have a serious susceptibility to fleur de lis. Just saying.

Smile

Husbands I had and Liked. A blank book, for your notes, if any.


From Daily Candy.

Edinburgh wardrobe: Part 5

This seems the sort of thing to bring the current grape fascination to the Old Country, and the velvet will keep me warm, won't it? Carmen Marc Valvo.

Shuesday: Oh no you did not

In Soho on Friday night, I saw a woman tonight wearing Carrie's shoes from That Movie.

In.

The.

Rain.

I'm just saying.

Edinburgh wardrobe: Part 4

It has occurred to me that dressing to match the skies and the stone walls of Edinburgh may be a bad idea. How about a bit of blue sky, courtesy of Marc Jacobs, via BG?

Requisite celebrity sightings 12

Willem Dafoe, walking down Lafayette near Astor Wines,




and Rachel McAdams, getting out of a car in front of the Bowery Hotel.

Edinburgh wardrobe: Part 3

Unfortunately, this sweater is sold out at J. Crew, but wouldn't it be perfect? Because I can't be dressed up all the time. Imagine it sitting in a window seat, reading.

Shuesday: ... but these are ridiculous.

These YSL boots are clearly not for anyone who has anywhere to walk ... although I bet Victoria Beckham has several pair already.

Shuesday: These may not be sublime ...

But clearly Tory Burch is channeling her "working mom" side here ... if you're the sort of working mom who has time to lace these on over your skinny jeans once the kids have gone off to school, hand made lunches and all, and walk across the lawn to the stables to check on the horses. Or something.

Regardless of how or where you wear them, they're hot. And I /so/ need them to walk over the hills of Scotland, don't you think? With jodhpurs and a tweed jacket?

Tory Burch at BG.

Damn she's good III: Ms. London, if you please

There's been a little more TV in my life of late (it's like cramming before an exam, or a last pint of ice cream before a diet), and among the gems is What Not to Wear. And NY mag has a little Q&A with our Ms. London.

Selections:

Who's your favorite New Yorker, living or dead, real or fictional?
Auntie Mame. Would KILL for that apartment.

What's the best meal you've eaten in New York?
The tasting menu at Per Se, the devils on horseback at Freemans, monkey bread at Monkey Bar, Paella Magdelena and banana-nut bread pudding at Blue Ribbon Brooklyn.

How much is too much to spend on a haircut?
There is no price too high as long as the cut is great.

What makes someone a New Yorker?
Being able to navigate subway grates in heels.

For me, the deal with the subway grates is to avoid them at all costs. The metal trap doors in the sidewalks too. It has recently occurred to me that I may be complicating sidewalk traffic with the manoeuvring this requires ... but I don't really care. And I can do it if I have to.

NY Mag

The other shoe drops: the Eglu makes the New Yorker

I know it takes a while for a fad to turn into a New Yorker article, but I think you'll love this article by Susan Orlean on the Eglu anyway:

On a Venn diagram plotting the interest in chicken ownership and circumstance related to age, gender, acreage, appetite, and aesthetic tolerance, I would land in that pitch-dark center where all the sets overlap. Even now, two years into my chicken stewardship, this is a big surprise to me. I am an animal fancier, but fur-bearing has always been my type: I had never wanted a bird.

(...) I ordered a chartreuse Eglu with four red hens. The Eglu came via U.P.S.; a few days later, the hens were delivered to the post office. "You have a package here," the postal clerk said when she called, "and it's clucking."

(previously featured in the Boudoir here, and originally brought you you by Daily Candy).

Edinburgh wardrobe: Part 2

This seems somehow an updated version of something I imagine on a Brontë heroine.

Obviously, running across the moors isn't going to happen in those shoes - maybe in these? Who doesn't love Prada boots when you're escaping a madwoman?