I'm in the mood for...simply because....

I have been in the strangest mood lately and I cannot tell you why. I just honestly have no explanation. I've been doing fun things, and I've seen some good flicks, and I've gone to some great restaurants...

And yet I am restless.

Maybe it's because I'm so ready for spring. Especially those elusive two weeks of perfect weather it brings to the city each year. I'm ready for the day when I wake up and smell the air and just KNOW that spring has finally arrived.

Ah to be wearing skirts and sandals and no coat!

Oh for the fresh asparagus and other yummy veggies to be had at the farmers market!



Oh for the street fairs and the jacket weather and outdoor brunch!



Oh for the gallons and gallons of iced coffee!!!



To me, those two weeks in spring make New York feel very French. Not that I've ever been to France, but that's the way it makes me feel.

When I was still living on the Upper West Side, one of my favorite signs of spring was the blooming of the Cherry trees along the medians on Broadway. They're so pretty and girly and always make me smile.



Of course this reprieve will be short and then the rains shall come. And they shall stay. And stay. And then BOOM it will be summer and too hot to think let alone move. But for the few weeks of spring that we do have I will remember the beauty of why I moved here in the first place, and maybe I will start to feel more settled again.

Color My World...

New to the Sartorialist this week...

How gorgeous is that color combo?

For Those About to Croon?

As you are about to discover, my kitschiness knows no bounds, including those regarding era.

Recently after a stint at the local pub, I accidentally reawakened my love for Hair Ballads of the 1980's. Especially those contained in the masterful 2 disc made for tv collection...

Monster Ballads!

Oh yes, we're talking Foreigner, Winger, Nelson, even Saigon Kick. Don't even try to deny your secret love affairs with "To Be With You" by Mr. Big, and "High Enough" by Damn Yankees.

I mean come on people. Ted Nugent singing bad late 80's schlock will not be denied.

Feel the power. Love the power.

Le Hot Tomato: Live On Etsy!

Hey There Guys and Gals!

This is the day I know you've all been waiting for with bated breath.

The Le Hot Tomato shop is finally up and operational on www.etsy.com.
You can visit it using the handy etsy mini to the right side of the blog here.

I am proud to say the first sale was made within the first 10 minutes after the shop opened! How's that for a nice welcome into the online selling community!

So, go check it out and I hope you like it!

Also, obviously I'm new to this so if anyone has any suggestions at all please feel free to let me know.

I have had so much fun getting this up and running, but I would be such a naughty little liar if I claimed to have done it by myself. So, I'd like to thank the following amazing souls for lending a creative and supportive hand...

My deepest thanks go out to Jen, Chad, and Saylor for modeling. Joe for lighting the photo shoot and helping me retain my sanity. My family for listening when I was stressed out and complaining. Last and mostly, Jesse for everything you've done. This entire project would not look anywhere near this good if I had not had you to lean on. You pretty much rock.

So that's all from this end for now. I should be updating the shop soon with some new pieces, so anyone who wants to model just let me know and I'll let you know when we're shooting!

Enjoy the links below!

Le Hot Tomato Etsy: http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5458079

Le Hot Tomato Webpage: http://www.lehottomato.com/ (Currently Under Construction)

Candie is Dandy!

If you are like me you get sad about silly things. Like the fact that you'll never get to go to summer camp again. Or that watching your favorite movie repeatedly isn't going to change the ending to something happier. Or the fact that Jacques Brel is in fact NOT alive and well and living in Paris.

Or in this specific case, that you will never get to hear new music from your favorite artists of the 1960's.

Joy of joys for me, because I do not have to be sad anymore!

Let me introduce you to Miss Candie Payne, a native of Liverpool who sounds like she stepped right out of a James Bond fantasy flick. She's a little slice of Audrey Hepburn meets Nancy Sinatra and frankly I just can't get enough.

I am absolutely in love with her music and will be buying the album as soon as it is readily available in the States, but until then I am content to be obsessed with the look of her videos. I am this close to dying my hair back to a bittersweet chocolate brown just so that I can slightly resemble her. Check out her hair and make-up in the video for the Mark Ronson mix of "One More Chance."




I don't know about you, but after that all I want to do is bouffant my hair and layer on the liquid eyeliner. She may just inspire my entire spring wardrobe, and I'm sure I'll be watching for her career to land stateside at some point in the near future.

Check out her myspace here: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=52879670

Or go to her website where you can preview the entire album for free:
http://www.candiepayne.com/index.html

A Traveling Minstrel I, A Thing Of Shreds....

So I realize I'm a few weeks late on the New Years Resolution train. I made my resolution at the correct juncture, but am only now sharing it with all of you. I don't normally go down this road because I am well acquainted with my personal stores of will power, and they are somewhat, how shall I say, lacking.


However...


This year I resolve to live like a pauper. I do this in the name of finally being able to afford my own apartment. Sans roommates. Sans design quandaries. Mine. My very own place.


I don't expect this to be easy. I know there will be skipped dinners, and extended rain checks on drinks with friends. I know I will seriously have to deliberate over which movies to see in the theatre and which to wait and netflix. I know there will come a time when I will have to pass up a pair of heartachingly cute shoes (even if they are only $15 at Marshalls, because let's face it, $15 is $15 no matter what my shoe hormones are saying.)


But if these small sacrifices mean that I can have this...

or this...

or even this...

then I suppose the shoes will just have to wait.

Come Fly the Friendly Skies!

What you have to understand about the way I view the world is this... My Grandmother was a lady. Not only a lady, but a snazzy lady. Not only a snazzy lady, but a post WWII housewife. Not only a post WWII housewife, but a mid-century modern hostess. I didn't realize it until a few years ago, but the personal style of Bette Ann Parman pretty much wrote the book from which I take my personal style.

What does this have to do with travel you say? Not much necessarily except that I believe every facet of life should be at least 1% glamourous. Even if you have to make damn sure that you are that 1%.

Thusly I have always had a rather skewed view of what it means to travel by air. I wasn't even alive during the golden age of modern travel, but in a way I was raised to view it as an event. When I was little we always dressed up to go on the plane. To this day I still have dreams of sashaying down the jet way in my heels; a scarf over my hair and a hat box suitcase in my hand.

Obviously this is not at all practical for the modern traveler. The fact is you will be seated next to someone who insists on claiming both armrests, you will be surrounded by screaming babies, and you will realize half way through the packet that your peanuts are about 15 years old.

So as I prepare for my flight home for the holidays I'm trying to have a new outlook. I refuse to cave to the pressure and drag all of my luggage on the plane with me like some people. That's right, I'm checking bags, (and I dare American Airlines to lose them.) I'm going to put on some makeup, throw on my pashmina and attempt to Zen my way through the day. I'm going to do my best to pamper myself through my flight so that I arrive home in a single, and relatively sane, piece. And maybe, just maybe, if I succeed, I will inspire a few others to fly glamourously.

Perhaps someday we will get back to that happy time when flying was a joy, not a downright pain in the ass.