My very talented friend Tracy used to have the lovely clothing line called mon petit ouiseau and now she designs Velvet for Anthropologie and she keeps this inspiring blog, which I visit regularly for eye candy of the most delightful variety.
She designed this t-shirt for Velvet and all the proceeds go to Haiti.
It looks yummy and soft and I love the handmade wood-cut prints!!
Tracy's Haiti tee on sale here. I'll buy it. At $42 seems like someone's paying me to help out.
Years ago, Michael and I were waiters at the the venerable, but tiny Universal Cafe in San Francisco, back when it was first opened by Bob and Gail, the chef was the amazing Bernadette, and the interior got a ton of attention designed by Jeff and Larissa. Working there was a crash course in design, food & wine snobbery for the both of us.
I dated one of the cooks in the kitchen, a guy named Ivan, who was half Russian and half French and had long hair. It was the only time in my life I dated a guy with long hair. But he was the reason I moved to Paris. He used to show me old French movies like Jules and Jim and Pierrot le Fou, and that was the start of my infatuation with France. Our long distance relationship lasted about 1 minute, I think he slept with my hairdresser (appropriate) as soon as I left and I, very soon after my arrival, met Le [future] Mari, who had short hair.
Michael dated another girl at the time, too. He told me that she and her friends used to make fun of me by calling me Eclair - only that's not even funny.
Michael moved to NY and we grew apart.
Years later I found out that he ended up marrying Karen who, it turned out, was friends with one of my besties, Greta and we've all become friends again. The world is small.
This pile of metal has been on the floor of my studio, just sitting there waiting to be chained to bags. They're staring at me as if to say, "Come on, make handles out of us. Put us on something cute. You can do it. Make something chic out of us...I know you want to." Oh, darling chains, I will! Soon. As soon as we get this order for a stylish Danish company out the door!
Okay. Done. J just shipped these lovely greens off to Copenhagen.
The company saw the bag I did for Target (via my valuable Danish connection) and they ordered 15 for a project they were doing where they wanted a green bag, literally, (if not figuratively,) the same shape as the Target clutch and, the kicker, it also had to vibe "Sex in the City 2."
Yeeokay. Done. I could totally see tiny Carrie looking Fieldsianly fabulous (I just coined a new adjective and adverb, you heard it here first) wearing this with a THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU plastic bag-cum-dress cinched at her 18-inch waist with a mass of colorful fuzzy pipe cleaners and some toweringly, terrific & bizarre-o Balenciagas at the bottom of her shiny, bare and incredibly sculpted legs. For example. Right?
While previously the line was only carried at the Tribeca Steven Alan store, last week we shipped Abbot Kinney, West Hollywood, Brooklyn, Tribeca - and readied the Hamptons, too - that store doesn't open until May so we hold off on shipping until next week.
I snapped these pictures while J was packing the boxes.
This was me and Oscar's attempt at Easter a far, far cry from M. Stew...ah well, tomorrow, we have big egg finding plans with parties in Malibu and Hancock Park, will let you know who hid better.
This was me and JS's attempt at happiness in clutch form.
Both wildly successful, I'd say.
Well, maybe not the Easter part...when Oscar went to bed the Easter bunny came. I'm so lame at holidays, I don't even think he expected there to be a basket when he wakes. (That Christmas presents appear on the 25th of Dec is already something.) I remember David Sedaris saying that in France, they have something like an Easter bell, Oscar's probably more familiar with that from his school. Anyway, mother guilt makes me make him an Easter basket. I couldn't find the basket I thought we had from previous years, so I used my African market basket and put plastic grass (made in USA!), his dyed eggs and a few chocolate eggs from the supermarket. I remember better baskets than that when I was little! I feel inadequate. But then again, kids eat too much crap these days anyway, Jamie Oliver's even got a Food Revolution going for god's sake, so I'm happy to not give him too much! There. I'm self-justified. Now I can sleep.
In my last trip to Paris the subject on every fashion person's lips was Phoebe Philo's collection at Céline. I swear I'm not swayed by the consensus when I tell you to look at her collection makes me short of breath and my heart skip a beat all at once. I mean, if I had to throw away everything I own and sign my soul away to the devil so I could wear only her collection, I'd do it in a millisecond. But, that's just not going to happen, so don't get judgy...;) Anyways, these clogs are on top of my clog wish list, only I cannot find them anywhere and I'm pretty sure, I'd have to sell my liver to afford them - which I'd do - if I could find them and a willing buyer.
A while back I wrote about my love of platforms and how it all began with these Robert Clergerie's. Am I high, or do they look good again? I dragged them out of the closet today and then had a phone conversation with one of my oldest friends, the friend who was probably with me when I bought them, and she told me they must be about 17 years old!!! That's insane. That's officially vintage, from my own closet! I really don't know how I feel about that.
I put them on and they fit like an old glove...
You can see the little slice in the leather that happened on the right shoe when the window broke at Gimme Shoes - giving me the opportunity to buy my beloveds.
They endured far worse over the many years with me: I remember gingerly traversing a rocky creek in them to get to our camping (!) spot in rural France. I remember hiking in them to the Hollywood sign our first Christmas in LA. I remember painting bedrooms in them. I remember a few different boyfriends in them, which says a lot since I've been with Le Mari for 14 years...Never have I worn shoes to death like this.
Merci Phoebe and Céline for bringing back the chunky wedge - the ol' gams and the old Clergeries are good friends and may have one last happy summer together.
And, that's my new Terrget jumper with a vintage green belt.
I'm just sayin...
