1. Try lace tights for fall? Pair these with last season's jewel tone shift or tunic and ease your way into autumn. Miuccia sent all her girls down the runway dolled up in lace, and who are we to question anything she does?
2. Stain your pout a deep, matte plum? Forego the gloss for just an evening and add some real old Hollywood glamour to your look. This is made infinitely more satisfying by the envious looks you will undoubtedly be receiving all night long from your peers.
3. Honor the late and great Yves Saint Laurent by wearing your own version of his classic le smoking? I can't think of anything sexier than seeing a tuxedo-clad woman strut confidently into a room filled with silly girls in even sillier party frocks.
This week it was not Erin Wasson, Carine or even Kate who inspired me. Usually these girls and their incredible sense of style have a very proportionate effect on my debit card but it was instead Allen Ginsburg's poem Howl that carried me away to a forgotten era. The energy and verbose quality of it makes me feel very 1994 NYC. (see Mary-Kate as an lovely little drug addled urchin in The Wackness for a visual aide) The grit and reality of Howl claws almost down to your bones- the seemingly endless chains of degenerate prose rolling down your tongue and past your lips. Despite being over 50 years old Howl still shocks and seduces the reader with unabashed provocations. And what it provoked me to do? Peruse the web for a Balmain miniature a la Gwenyth Paltrow to pair with my very worn in ankle booties and head to my favorite shadowy dive bar on Hollywood Blvd.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at
dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient
heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the
machinery of night,"
To read the Howl in its entirety (which i do highly suggest!)