Thursday, January 28, 2010

Everything will be coming up roses...in just a few more lunar cycles.

Why is it that I always find myself thinking, "I just have to get through this week. This week is my hard week, and then I'm golden," yet the so-called "easy week" never seems to come? God bless the quarter system.

That was my feeble attempt at a disclaimer for the fact that this is basically unadulterated spring fashion porn. I'm sick of windburn and layering...I just want to look pretty. If your Seasonal Affective Disorder is in full force, consider this a reminder that there is, in fact, a light at the end of the tunnel:

Peaches and Cream


Blazer: Apiece Apart.
Dress: Dolce Vita.
Shoes: Miu Miu.
Watch: ASOS.
Clutch: Sondra Roberts.

A few things to marinate on: Feminine meets masculine. Hard meets soft. Snakeskin. Rose gold. Floral accents.

Simmer away. I'll be in touch.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Just pulling your leggings.

Ask any follower of fashion about the most controversial issue currently plaguing our nation, and chances are you won't hear some formulaic tirade on health care reform or the newly elected senator of Massachusetts. (Disclaimer: I am not trivializing these things. This is a fashion blog. You can find somewhere else to air that dirty laundry.). Instead, you'll hear a formulaic tirade on a debate that has been brewing since long before Michelle's toned arms registered a blip on our national radar: are leggings (workout staple-cum-darling of catwalk and sidewalk) a privilege, a right, or a bar none fashion faux pas?

The most interesting thing about this debate is our tendency to oversimplify it into a mere question of categorization. We all have that aggressively opinionated friend (Deanna): "I don't care how skinny you are. Leggings are not pants. They just aren’t." I hate to break it to you, haters, but leggings are pants. Dictionary.com defines pants as "an outer garment for covering the body from the waist to the ankles, divided into sections to fit each leg separately," so by definition, leggings are an acceptable pants substitute. You heard it here: leggings are literally pants. Case closed.

But the question, then, takes a far more inward turn: should I wear leggings? Is it in my best interests (and the best interests of the innocent bystanders who are going to have to look at me all day) to do so? It would be ridiculous to say that pants with tapered ankles aren't pants, or that pants a size too small for you aren't pants. But do I recommend that the unfettered masses take those looks out for a spin? Hell no. The key to looking chic has always been to wear what flatters your body, and leggings happen to offer a little less leeway than, say, an A-line skirt or a pair of straight-legged jeans.

So let’s instead define that boundary with a simple litmus test. Stand up. Jog a few steps. If you can feel the cushiony part of your rump bounce independently from the rest of your body, the only place you should be wearing leggings is to the gym. (And that’s not to say your lady lumps aren’t hot. Is Christina Hendricks gorgeous? Duh. Does she run around in leggings? No, and to her credit.) The line is a fuzzy one: in-between territory can be tough (holla atcha, sixes!) and becomes more of a matter of confidence. If you think you “can’t pull off” leggings as pants, you probably can’t. If you have a feeling you just might be able to rock the look, wear them with heels for a little extra lift.

Having said all this, I love the look of leggings when worn appropriately (that is, with a shirt that’s not a crop top; the ‘80s may be back in vogue, but they are definitely over). Like skinny jeans, leggings provide an excuse to play with more billowy upper-body proportions, and, as such, pair well with the boyfriend shirts/tees/jackets we’ve been seeing these past few seasons. Texture is another variable ripe for experimentation (I’m a major proponent of the Shiny Leggings from American Apparel in Lamé Matte Black; their visage hovers somewhere between leather and sparkly mica). As for spring's jeggings? Use your judgment. Personally, I think jeans and leggings are great, but I’d rather wear them separately. Don't all those seams and rivets look lumpy in such a tight cut?

I’ll leave you with a few inspiration shots from "collective fashion consciousness" Lookbook.nu. For day:

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For night:

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And for weekend:

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However, even by modern standards, wearing leggings to the office might be a bit of a stretch.

Friday, January 1, 2010

The only thing better than blue velvet? Red velvet [cake, in my belly].

My Balmain-meets-Chanel look for New Year's Eve '09:

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Let's talk resolutions. In theory, they're positive, allowing us to imagine happier, healthier, more successful versions of ourselves. But all too often, resolutions stem from somewhere a little less bright and shiny: nagging reminders of our dissatisfaction with the way we already are, of our failures thus far. Even today, as I sat down to write my annual manifesto of self-improvement, I found myself zoning in on my shortcomings rather than the many ways I've grown (or literally shrank) in the past year.

So if I can say one thing to everyone who passes through this blog (thank you so much, by the way, for reading), it's this: forgive yourself. January 1 might be just another date on the calendar, but using it as an excuse to start fresh isn't silly or quixotic. Set goals. Set deadlines. And if you can only stand to make one resolution, make it this: start believing that you're the shit. If you ever come to a point where there's nothing about you that needs improvement, you're in trouble. My girl Miley said it best this year. It's all about the climb.

Some major changes to La Vie en Ginger are in the works; most notably, more personal style posts (read: self-indulgent photographs) and more frequent updates. I love hearing from people who actually read this thing, so keep the feedback coming. Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want to hear more of. Tell me why ain't nothing but a heartache/ain't nothing but a mistake/I never wanna hear you say "I want it that way," (seriously, Nick Carter, what happened to you?).

Happy new year! I hope your night sparkled like fireworks.

Dress: Topshop (Bought it!).
Tights: L'eggs.
Shoes: Dollhouse.
Necklaces and ring: Inherited.