Fight-or-flight response.

Airports used to turn me into a legitimate monster. I love to travel, but something about the act of flying destroys my ability to not sweat the small stuff. I'm always exhausted from staying up to pack the night before. I'm always pissed off from dealing with public transportation (I'd rather buy a new shirt than pay cab fare...sorry I'm not sorry). My first few trips back and forth from school were rife with sour glares and yells of, "Let's keep it moving, here, people!" I was that girl. I made Ashlee Simpson at McDonald's look tame.

Eventually, I realized that the old adage about catching more flies with honey is particularly true when it comes to flying. I now have a love/hate relationship with airports (love as in Washington National, hate as in Chicago O'Hare), but I like to think that I've at least figured out how to pimp the system.

Check-in. When you're lugging around the contents of your life on a semi-regular basis, 50 pounds doesn't go nearly as far as you'd think. If you had to sit on your suitcase to zip it, there's a good chance your baggage is overweight. Since a diet is out of the question (don't let anyone guilt you; you needed that extra pair of shoes), it's time to work a little magic at the curbside check-in. Put on a charming smile, twirl your hair nervously, and gently protest, "Oh, but I'm a student! Do you really need to charge me?" They will say no. And then you will tip them. $3 to the nice man who took pity on you is better than $35 (or whatever criminal amount they're charging these days) to some commercial airline executive. I haven't paid a baggage fee since 2007.



You'll probs want to skip fussy eye make-up so you can conk out on the plane, so grade A sunglasses (and maybe a touch of lip gloss) play a crucial role in maintaining your curbside allure. I am into these Maison Martin Margiela shades like a train. They have the flattering cut of an aviator (with a hint of heart-shaped sass) and the mystery of a classic bug-eye. And a $615 price tag. Crying.

Security. There's not a lot you can do to avoid snaking lines and panicked latecomers*, but you can at least avoid driving yourself crazy by tailoring your accessories for the occasion. I love jewelry as much as the next girl - probably more than the next girl - but this is not the time to show up dripping in diamonds. Stick to basic stud earrings, a watch (duhzies, it's me) and a belt, if you need one. Even the strapping businessman who would happily watch you strip down under normal circumstances won't be amused by watching you remove your stack of bangles one by one.



I've been known to wear my heaviest pair of shoes to lighten my luggage (though if you followed my first tip, chubby bags shouldn't be an issue), but riding boots aren't the easiest to wiggle in and out of at high speed. These days, I stick to Sue London roll-up ballet flats. They're easy to take on and off (and easy to stash if the torture of heels awaits you at the tail end of your flight - they even come with their own storage satchel), buttery soft, and the elastic won't dig into your heels. I love this punchy pink for summer, but if neutrals are more your jam, Sue makes them in every color of the rainbow. Nine West does a knock-off version. I've heard questionable reviews. Bargain buy at your own risk.

* I'm hardly in a position to lecture anyone on timeliness, but as a former airport lagoon creature, I will say that it's better to be obscenely early than even a little bit late. Worst-case scenario: you spend some time sampling cosmetics in the duty-free shop.

Up, up and away! People who say jeans are comfortable are obviously not people who fly. Nothing is more unpleasant than sitting for hours with grommets and belt loops digging into your flesh (not to mention that unless your jeans are made of steel, they'll probably stretch out and look loose and nasty upon arrival). A jersey dress with a relaxed fit - and a cardigan, in the event of a chilly cabin - is a much better option for a summer flight. If you're more worried about snowdrifts than sunburns, a cashmere sweater and a slim-cut pair of yoga pants is a stylish alternative to ratty gym sweats. Side note: there is never an excuse for velour jumpsuits.



OKAY. I KNOW. I'M A LEMUR. EVERYONE AND THEIR MOM HAS A LONGCHAMP TOTE. But hear me out. I'm not suggesting you carry it everywhere until it falls to generic nylon pieces, but from a practical standpoint, the Pliage makes an ideal carry-on bag. It's waterproof (you don't know what the toddler in front of you will spill as you take off). It zips (who loves crawling around under the seats after everyone else has exited the plane to gather runaway belongings?). And once you arrive at your destination, you can fold it into a tiny, tiny square, stick it in the bottom of your suitcase, and no one will ever know you carried that boring, practical bag. Think about it. All I'm saying. Army green is spot-on this season (and every season, let's be real).

One more fun fact: if you put your headphones in your ears during takeoff and landing and tell the flight staff your iPod is off...they're not gonna make you prove it.

Whether you're headed home for a relaxing summer of poolside lounging or off to explore exotic locales, I hope these tips make your trip as hassle-free as possible. Travel safely and stylishly. Your souvenir snapshots will thank you.

Out on a Lim.

I don't usually post my clips here, but I thought some of you might enjoy reading the interview I did with CFDA Fashion Award winner Phillip Lim for the May issue of CS magazine. Phillip and I hit it off like old friends - I believe the word "soulmate" was tossed around - and though the article is short and sweet, I think it manages to capture both his intelligence and his sass (check out his response to the fashion faux pas question - so much for my theory on leggings being pants).





A few more fun facts: Phillip hates surprises (so do I), wore velvet slippers to his last birthday party (so did I...just kidding), and lives by the philosophy, "Some days, peanuts; some days, shells." I was so grateful for the opportunity to meet him and fully plan to stalk him on the fashion circuit in New York this summer. See his latest collection here. Besties 4-eva, Phil!

Gail force.

So moms, right? Talk about a defining relationship in a young girl's world and wardrobe. Yeah, you heard me - as much as we like to believe ourselves to be far removed from our parents' outdated, unflattering, and sometimes downright embarrassing sartorial choices, a large part of what shapes our personal style is what we see on M and D. Though I'll cede that shopping with my mother invariably results in a series of mildly offensive "yeah, that's cute...for you" jibes, I would be lying if I claimed not to have borrowed bits and pieces from her fashion sensibility. After all, she was the best-dressed member of the Brandywine High School Class of 1976. In honor of Mother's Day, here are the top five fashion lessons I've learned from my mother, the ultrafabulous Gail Bailey Roberts.

Don't be boring. Gail owns an art gallery, and her love of the creative shines through in spades in her clothes. Peruvian knit sweaters, 1970s-inspired caftans, funky peasant blouses, and jersey separates in unconventional shapes are just a few of the items I've pilfered from her wardrobe over the years (sorry, Mom!). While the average Joe on the street might not "get" what she's wearing every day, her willingness to take risks is something I'm thrilled to have inherited (and perhaps why she shares my obsession with the inimitable Lady Gaga).

Bedazzle yourself. I've talked about the Roberts family jewelry gene before, and I can assure you that our matriarch is no exception to the rule. Silver bracelets, chunky necklaces, and anything with a wine motif are my mom's baubles of choice. After all, this is a woman who keeps a sign in our kitchen that reads, "Wine. It's not just for breakfast anymore."

Believe in the power of the purse. My mom is to purses as I am to shoes; that is to say, she has a fetish that will in all likelihood never be satisfied. Though her taste is wildly different from my own (I get weak in the knees for a classic Chanel 2.55; she prefers her purple pleather satchel with multicolored zipper rosettes), I am frequently amazed by the dimension her handbags add to her ensembles. Gail's stash of crazy purses are an excellent reminder that lugging around your personal belongings can be more expressive than exasperating.

Buy outfits, not just separates. This used to drive me crazy when I was younger and had spare pairs of jeans coming out of my ass, but as I've pared down my wardrobe and been forced to accept that I am not, in fact, Imelda Marcos (yet), I've found one of Gail's favorite shopping strategies to be admittedly useful. As fun as it is to buy statement pieces, what's not fun is having a closet full of things you can't wear because you have nothing to pair them with. There's something reassuring about coming home from a marathon shopping trip and knowing that you're not going to have to put forth a similarly herculean effort just to wear your haul out of the house.

Dress for the occasion. Like most mothers, Gail loves to needle me about what I'm wearing. "Why are you so dressed up to go hang out at a friend's house?" "Really? You're wearing that to school?" My first instinct is always to overdress, but my mom's commentary on my clothing has played a big role in mellowing me out and making me, I think, ultimately more stylish. After all, anyone can be fierce in heels and a miniskirt. It's learning to make your ripped jeans look like the second coming of Kate Moss for a movie night that puts you on a whole new playing field.



I love you, Mom! Thanks for the good genes. Happy freaking Mother's Day.

Zac attac.

I've never been a fan of discount designer lines. They strike me as the epitome of buying something solely for the label attached. With the exception of Marc by Marc Jacobs (still not all that "discount") and a sprinkling of few-and-far-between successful capsule collections, I find that big-name designers usually balk when met with the inexpensive materials needed to produce at a lower price point. The result? A "designer" item that aims too high and ends up looking like just that: a cheap imitation of the real thing. The masses will buy it because it's Rodarte or whatever, but I think inexpensive clothing is best left to those who know how to handle it (H&M, Zara, Topshop). Creating discount fashion requires a simpler touch than most couturiers bring to the table.

However.









Zac Posen for Target's GO International line is one glaring exception to the rule. These four dresses are divine - they manage to capture Zac's unique flavor without looking froufrou-y or over-the-top. I would kill for the black dress with the snaps - such a flattering shape, with just the right amount of edge - and the braided belt on the lilac floral slip dress is delightfully quirky. Zac was smart to work with prints; they typically take to bargain fabrics much better than solid colors.



This lipstick tank has been hailed as the signature piece of the collection. Talk about a chic graphic tee for summer. This would pair beautifully with jean shorts, a breezy cardigan and leopard flats for weekend, as well as a tiny skirt, leather jacket and lethal heels for a night out.



This leather jacket (in "Target red") is the most expensive piece in the collection, at just under $200. It's real leather - and looks nice enough in the photograph, I suppose - but I'm wary of buying anything that costs $200 at Target. I feel like it defeats the purpose of the collection. At that point, you'd be better off saving up a little while longer and springing for a leather jacket from a more reputable brand.

There are a few other aspects of the collection that awaken my inner skeptic - a series of gold lamé swimsuits, for one (leave those to American Apparel, Zac!) - but overall, I was pleasantly surprised by what Posen had to offer. Apparently, it's not cruel enough for him to simply be woefully unattainable gay eye candy. He has to go and make me want to shop at Target, too.

"Nothing is ugly as long as it is alive." - Coco Chanel

Yesterday, a friend of mine who is almost aggressively uninterested in fashion told me that I had helped her realize the importance of material things.

My knee-jerk reaction was, of course, mortification. Glorious! Just what we all need in the current moral and economic climates: a nagging voice urging us to pay more mind to stuff. I knew she was justified in her observation - materialism is an unfortunate byproduct of aspirations in the fashion industry - but what was remarkable was that she seemed to have genuinely meant it to be a compliment.

I'm certainly a believer that people - family, friendships, relationships - are infinitely more vital to our happiness than any pair of Manolo Blahniks that can be purchased on sale. That being said, I do see a tangible value in investing in appearances. For me, getting dressed is not only a means of artistic expression, but also a measure of personal pride; when I walk around with unwashed hair and ratty gym clothes on (out of laziness, not when I'm actually on my way to the gym), I feel devalued in a way that has nothing to do with whether or not men (or women) find me attractive. Clothes have, for better or worse, the power that we have collectively ascribed to them: a power that makes visible a portion of our interior and, perhaps more importantly, gives voice to our self-concept. To ignore society's expectations of our relationship to clothing is foolish. To pass up the chance to create for yourself a world in which you truly look the way you feel is, to me, actually depressing.

I'm also a big believer in the way in which clothes come alive on a person. You can build the most heartbreakingly beautiful dress on God's green earth, but until it's worn by somebody who takes pure, unadulterated joy in its construction, it's worthless. It's like how a fragrance reacts uniquely with the hormones of each individual who spritzes it on - clothing must be loved by its owner to be lovable to others. I adore reading personal style blogs because nine times out of ten, it's the pieces I never would have looked twice at in a store that inspire me the most. The number of trends I've hated until I saw them on people who wore them not to be "fashionable," but because they genuinely loved the look! Anyone can buy an expensive, current wardrobe - but to have true style, clothing must be worn dynamically.

And then I thought of this recent photo shoot celebrating the 30th anniversary of Loewe's Amazona tote. The bag is simple, maybe even boring - but I was instantly struck by the life it brings to each of these photographs. It appears to be, in every frame, placed with a purpose; this is a purse that belongs to someone - a dreamer, a mother, a hermit, an intellectual - and because of that, it takes on a value that no manmade object can claim on its own.











Whatever your opinion of fashion - a crutch for those devoid of inner beauty or the greatest thing on the face of the planet - I urge you to broaden that definition. Because for materialistic me, things are important - but only because people make them so. Is it possibly to have an unhealthy obsession with earthly trappings? Absolutely. Are there those who judge the enjoyment of said trappings too harshly? Believe it. But the only way to recognize the value of style is to experience it to the fullest. Nothing is ugly as long as it is alive.

Building blocks.

So everyone in the blogosphere appears to be compiling top-ten lists of their can't-live-without-'em clothing and accessory items this week. It's interesting (and refreshing!) to see how the lists vary from author to author - we're always advised to stock up on the same hot-ticket staples (perfect jeans! LBD!), but what most style manuals fail to take into account is the effect of personal style on what defines the parameters of a "basic." I hate pants, so perfect jeans and well-cut work trousers would never garner a spot in my top ten; however; a ruffled silk dress and blue oxford shirt are two more nontraditional options that I find myself reaching for time and time again. Despite an unusual color or cut, these pieces have, indeed, become my closet's "basics" - and once you define yours, it's easy to see where you should invest your hard-earned cash (and makes those uncreative mornings about a thousand times easier).

1) Striped tee. I own three of these (black and white, yellow and white, and navy and cream) and find them to be incredibly comfortable and versatile. Nautical stripes are timeless, whether you're landlocked or on a boat, and this particular rendering is a chic European spin on the all-American t-shirt. Breton sweaters are lovely, but I prefer lightweight tees that can be worn in layers year-round (and find three-quarter sleeves to be the most flattering).

2) Riding boots. If your climate is even remotely chillier than tropical, you should own a pair of flat riding boots. They pair perfectly with dresses, leggings, jeans...even shorts in spring and early fall. Simultaneously athletic, bohemian, and classic, they are a true gift from the shoe gods.

3) Trench coat. What girl doesn't secretly want to embody even the slightest suggestion of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's? I prefer classic khaki, but I've seen beautiful renditions in every color, from periwinkle to punchy red. Waist-nipping, trend-proof and fabulously mysterious, the trench flatters literally everyone. Even better, it can be worn with nothing underneath for, uh...special occasions.

4) Aviators. Max Potter just walked into the coffee shop I'm at right now. She is wearing Ray-Ban aviators. 'Nuff said.

5) Two-tone men's watch. If you don't know by now that I'm obsessed with watches, you're either a first-time visitor or an Alzheimer's patient. Since I wear both gold and silver jewelry, I go for two-tone. And a men's watch looks fierce on a woman's wrist. Always has, always will.

6) Black high-waisted skirt. My shopping weakness. The item I will never be done buying. Seriously. I own, like, six; I could easily go shopping today and come home with an armful more. Of course there are variations - one is studded, one is leather, one is elegant and tulip-shaped, one is dangerously curve-hugging and reserved for when I need to pull out the big guns - but collecting black skirts of every silhouette and embellishment has become a sort of shopping sub-hobby.

7) CZ studs. Diamonds are a girl's best friend, but cubic zirconia is a broke college student's best friend. I'm not much of an earring person (I'd rather wear a big, colorful ring or a statement necklace), but I think bare ears (if pierced) look unfinished, so I usually default to these. A little sparkle above the neck makes for a more polished look without detracting from the rest of the ensemble.

8) Blue button-down. Crisp white shirts get all the praise, but I prefer pale blue - it's slightly off-kilter, doesn't show dirt, and is still neutral enough to wear with most other colors (my favorite combos being blue and gray and blue and peach). I like to roll the cuffs up to right above the elbow and wear it tucked into a high-waisted skirt, with skinny jeans and riding boots, or open over a dress in place of a cardigan.

9) Nude platform sandal. I refuse to buy shoes with spindly heels because I know I won't wear them, so when it comes to height, platforms are my best friend. A flesh-toned shade lengthens the leg line and can be worn with just about anything, day or night. These are by Prada, my favorite shoe designer/where all of my money will be going once I am employed full-time.

10) Flirty dress. I'm a sucker for anything silky and ruffled. A dress like this takes you from the the office (skinny belt and a cardigan) to a dinner date (strappy heels and loose hair) to drinks with girlfriends (stacked platforms and statement jewelry).

Runners-up: A quilted purse, a well-cut blazer, a yellow belt, a giant cocktail ring, and (sigh) perfect jeans (dark and skinny).

My basics are very revealing of my personal style: hyperfeminine, with a grounding in French classics (and ill-suited to cold climates) (FML). As all over the map as my outfits may be from day to day and season to season, these are the things I keep coming back to time and time again (and, quite honestly, the things I would wear every day if people wouldn't judge me for, you know, wearing the same thing every day). I'm all for experimentation, but it's always nice to have an understanding of what makes you tick deep down inside. Give it a few minutes of thought. The items you choose may surprise you.

Bang, bang, you're dead.

Okay. I caved.

After coveting the look on everyone from chic Parisians to the hipsters who work at Urban Outfitters, I decided to join the ranks of the elite girls with bangs. Having not rocked a fringe since I was seven years old and styled myself after Velma Dinkley (yep...of Scooby Doo fame), I was a little nervous about whether or not my cheekbones and jawline would be up to the challenge.









Fortunately, I'm pretty sure I'm thrilled with the results. I'm also pretty sure I just entered a monogamous relationship with my hair straightener. ~*~BeStiEs~*~









Inspiration courtesy of Kate, Kim, Brigitte, and good old Jenny from the block.

If you have the urge to update your visage and the thick, straight locks and/or time to devote to maintenance, bangs make an instant statement without sacrificing the length you spent so long cultivating (unwittingly getting a bad haircut is a pain; consciously chopping it all off and instantly regretting it is a bitch). Additionally, bangs serve as an easy camouflage for overlarge foreheads, hairline acne, and more. Just don't make the mistake of going too short - ask for something that falls between your eyes and eyebrows initially, then have your hairstylist snip and angle you into the coif if your dreams.

Basically: Take risks. Spice up your look (and then spice up your life). It's what your youth is for. After all...it's only hair.

New at Urban! Or, Fashion Week for the broke.

As amusing as it is to click through endless runway slideshows on Style.com, and as tantalizing as it is to live vicariously through personal style bloggers and their insane designer wardrobes, and as thrilling as it is to know that streams of fancy fashionistas have descended on Bryant Park Lincoln Center (I will never get over this) for Fashion Week...sometimes a girl needs a fix that's a bit closer to her own reality.

The Urban Outfitters spring catalog has arrived. Talk about catharsis. So much has been written on the subject of seasonal depression that I'm hesitant to add generic fuel to the fire, but having spent three months feeling chubby, pasty, and depressed, I'm thrilled to welcome airy sundresses - or at least trenches and open-toed shoes - back into my sartorial psyche.





I saw these two dresses and instantly knew I had to have them. My back is my favorite part of my body, so rear cutouts, scoops and detailing have become a mainstay of my personal style (see here and here). I've been waiting to debut them once the weather gets a bit more cooperative/my body deflates from three months of hibernation, but just knowing that they're hanging in my closet makes life - wait for it - a little sunnier.



Boyfriend khakis have catapulted to the top of my spring shopping list. I'll probably try my luck at Village Discount with somebody's real boyfriend's cast-offs first, but the slim cut and lack of baggy crotch on these has me sorely tempted.





Stripes. They somehow manage to be classic and quirky all at once. It's the combination of a gamine print in a feminine cut that makes these two cardigans so appealing.





High-waisted skirts are timelessly pretty and flattering for all body types. And for the tomboys among us:



Flirty shorts present an alternative perfect for sprinting down the beach. Love the vintage-inspired clutch, too!



This is what I imagine Carrie Bradshaw wears to bed.



A camera case that isn't masculine, utilitarian, or both?! You could probably fit your lip gloss, license, and keys in there, too.





Much like this season's clothes, this season's bags are slouchy and neutral. Soft leather, linen, and canvas reign supreme.

And every girl needs:



A French terry pullover.





A breezy white camisole.



And a fabulous khaki trench to wear year after year.

Season's greetings!

Double vision. But seriously.

Am I psychic?



No sooner had I predicted doubled-up frames than I found them staring up at me from the pages of InStyle. These are by Dolce & Gabbana. I appreciate the innovation and the restricted color palette, but I wonder if the second set of frames would be like that piece of glitter stuck to your cheek that's always in your peripheral vision? You know what I'm talking about. The worst.

I think I'll be sticking with my classic aviators, but good to know these are out there satisfying some need for someone, somewhere. (The same cannot be said for Crocs.)

Double vision.

They say two heads are better than one, but who says heads should have all the fun? Lately, some of my favorite accessories have been cropping up in pairs.



Basic pashminas are a staple for any season. But if you're tiring of the same old solids, try a mishmashed look à la Jane Aldridge in the above photo. I'm pretty sure Jane is just wearing one two-tone scarf, but a similar effect can be achieved by winding two pashminas together: simply line up the ends and wrap as you normally would. Not only does the double dose of color lend some depth to your outfit, but two times the fabric also equals two times the protection against that bitchy Chicago wind (or East Coast tempest, to keep things topical).





My watch fetish has been placed on a temporary hold due to the healing of my new tattoo (avert your eyes, Mom!), but I'm itching to give the look of doubled-up tickers a try (seen here on Andy Torres). Don't just throw on any two watches, though: keep them in the same stylistic and color families. Antique-y leather worn against futuristic plastic will leave you looking like you got dressed in the dark.

What's next? Double sunglasses? A purse on each shoulder? Maybe. For now, though, let's leave those stunts to Gaga.