Wearing, Currently
156 Results for: anna
Hot Hot Hot
OK, so the other night I headed into the city for dinner with a couple of girlfriends at Da Mikele (oh, my gnocchi) followed by a screening of Hot Pursuit thrown by SheKnows, and I dressed in what amounts to a Jordan Uniform: slouchy grey thing and jeans. Plus earrings. You know, 'cause I was "out."
And then I realized: you know what? It's probably my last official Girl's Night Out in the city for...well, I don't know. Maybe forever. Certainly for awhile. And Sofia Vergara is in the movie, for goodness sakes. Sofia Vergara is a fancy, fancy lady.
So:
Links & Love & Stuff
By popular demand, here is where you can get that pom-pom hat (I don't see it on their site, but give them a ring and they'll send it to you). Also, in this photo we are at a cafe called Riposo, and if you go to New York anytime around brunchtime please go there and order the Sicilian Eggs Benedict.
These leggings are so weird. And yet I like them. This confuses me.
Never before in my life have I given any particular amount of thought to my "lower torso," and yet, thanks to Sports Illustrated, I am not only thinking about it, I am seeing it. A lot of it. (And in case you weren't aware, "lower torso" is a euphemism.) (The Latest Body Part For Women To Fix, via The NY Times.)
Easy Slow-Cooker Turkey Chili
Everyone has their little food-isms. Some people get all freaked out by parsley, or can't stand the texture of coconut.
Mine all fall under the category of "Spicy." I don't do spicy. I don't put pepper (which to me is spicy) in anything - literally, not ever, and this was a bit of a thing when I was writing the recipe section of my book because apparently it is very weird to say "season with salt" as opposed to "season with salt and pepper."
Because...everyone on the planet but me likes pepper?
At Minimum
I have discovered something unexpected.
My whole life, whenever I've worn "fancy" stuff, I've felt...awkward. Like a little girl playing dress-up in her mom's closet. What I mean by "fancy" is mostly things like…I don't know, skirt suits. Tailored pieces. But I also mean those sort of elegantly minimalist outfits that I absolutely love on other people, but that never look quite right on me.
And I figured it out:
Links & Love & Stuff
I legit cannot stop crafting. I am also aware that RG is not a crafting blog exactly, but I can't help it: must share. So many ridiculous handmade whatsits coming up. So many!
The look on Angelina Jolie's face when she ran into one of the Sony execs who slammed her in those leaked emails is EVERYTHING.
You have to hear how much Pharrell made for downloads of "Happy." It's depressing, mostly because it makes you think about what musicians who are not Pharrell make. ...Can somebody fix this, please?
T-Minus 24 Hours And No Costume In Sight?
Allow me to assist. Because if there is one thing I am an expert on, it is jerry-rigging your Halloween costume because you couldn't get it together to actually shop for a real one.
Here we are in 2008, in costumes that serve as a perfect example of the aforementioned jerry-rigging: this year, we were Pete Doherty and Kate Moss. Except when I dressed up as Kate Moss I ended up just sort of looking like I'd done a better-than-average job of getting myself clothed, so I added cat ears and whiskers and called myself Pete Doherty's cat (because, if you recall, at the time he was famous for being a completely atrocious cat owner, which made the whole concept pretty tasteless, but Halloween is a good time for tastelessness - maybe not this much, but some).
Anyway.
Objects Of Affection
{ The best-ever (and easiest) banana bread, made in bulk for the many weekend guests we've been having lately … }
{ … The Christmas Music Box (with moving train and lights) that I brought back from Maine, because apparently I have turned into an 80-year-old woman who cannot resist an adorable seasonal knickknack … }
Baby Brain Freeze
Before my daughter was born, I had a mental blip that made me think that a baby born in mid-August would require an enormous wardrobe of gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers and such, forgetting that oh right: babies don't tend to take a ton of trips to the seashore when they are a week old. And then it was fall, and too cold for gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers, and Gap doesn't let you return items that are more than 60 days old for the original purchase price and et cetera et cetera sigh. At least I have a pair of tiny silver huarache sandals for her to wear in February, when they will finally fit her (brain freeze, what can I say?).
So anyway, I went shopping for autumnal infant clothing yesterday. Which is basically the most fun thing in the world, especially when you stumble upon things like leopard jeans and little sweatshirts with heart pockets (if you have a little girl - or a little boy with a penchant for heart pockets - I insist that you buy that sweatshirt up there; it is so cute).
We do need to talk about that tulle overall thing for a moment. I didn't actually buy it not because it is not the platonic ideal of baby girl clothing (because it is), but rather because I am so excited about it that I need to wait until Goldie is just a tiny bit bigger and will be able to wear it more. Like every day maybe.
Like Madonna (Or…Something)
When I lived in London during my junior year of college, there was a bar that my girlfriends and I used to go to called - I think - Peppermint Park. Or something like that.
This place was not even a tiny bit cool: it served neon, flaming drinks that created hangovers practically before they were drunk (and served them with zero sense of irony), had low ceilings and balloons and streamers tossed around, was populated solely by us and a handful of creepy businessmen-types clustered around the bar, and played all-'80s, all-the-time. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun", "Walk Like An Egyptian", "Should I Stay Or Should I Go"…you get the idea.
It was - and might still be, a decade or so later - my favorite bar on the planet. Because when I'm going out for a night of dancing, I'm not interested in being cool; I'm interested in doing my best Kevin-Bacon-in-Footloose impression while wearing, like, knee socks or something.
This makeup is sort of like that bar.
