Wine and (say) cheese.

With all the clothes, shoes, purses and accessories we have at our disposal, it’s easy to forget that our hair and makeup say as much about our personal style as what we put on our bodies. Pop in your go-to chick flick from any given decade: ‘80s hair and (cringe) ‘90s lipliner are proof that cosmetic trends are as real as any others. It’s easy to fall into a routine with makeup – most days, I’m a rushed and uninspired concealer-brows-mascara kind of girl – but if your unpaid intern salary (ahem) won’t cover a new wardrobe, a cosmetic update can be a cost-effective way to make your existing one look fresh.

I’ve been romancing red lips like Casanova this summer. They give the face a youthful boost and elevate even the most basic outfit to something cheeky and playful. But in light of the heavy fabrics and moody color palates that come with the soon-to-be-changing leaves (or just even to offset this years camels and nudes), I think it might be time to switch out my beloved MAC “Ruby Woo” for a color with a bit more…inner angst.







I first fell in love with wine lips in Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro” music video. The vid’s no “Bad Romance” (no offense, Gags, love ya like a sister!), but isn’t the makeup lovely and unusual? A deep mahogany stain is the perfect complement to the pasty skin we’re all about to endure for the next nine months (or at least I am, because I refuse to walk around smelling like Jergens “Natural” Glow). I’d add a coat of mascara to avoid channeling Silas from The Da Vinci Code, but the subtle winged eyeliner on the last frame is an alluring way to take the undressed eye into nighttime.









Then the world went nuts over the bare eyes and bright lips in the latest Chanel couture show. The color is a little lighter than that debuted in “Alejandro,” but the overall composition (note the bedhead to balance out the more substantial makeup) is similar, enviable and entirely transferable to a sultry merlot or cabernet lip. Meanwhile, Abbey Lee Kershaw has successfully convinced me that blunt, shoulder-length bobs with bangs are where it’s at. I’m going to need a lot of people to remind me over the next month that I a) don’t have thick, straight hair and eyes the size of saucers, and b) spent the last two and a half years complaining about how long my hair took to grow out after my 11-inch freshman year coif chop. Okay? C’mon, it’s what Jesus would do.

The usual cautionary advice: Beware of brown undertones. Use a lip brush for better texture and accuracy. Surround yourself with friends who will tell you if you have lipstick on your teeth, dammit, because who lets some fool with lipstick on her teeth wander around unawares? I think there’s a special spot reserved in Hell for that, right next to “people who kick puppies” and “people who serve Lindsay Lohan drinks.” Speaking of which: if you're going to drink wine while wearing wine, be sure to check yourself out in a hand mirror (or iPod screen...not that I've ever done that) every now and then. Not many people can pull off this.

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.

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.

McQueen has McQuit.

Designer Lee McQueen (of Alexander McQueen) was found dead today in an apparent suicide.

I often feel that celebrity deaths are blown out of proportion. Maybe it's because I don't completely buy into pop culture, but I have a hard time feeling anything beyond an initial "Wow...really?" when I hear about another "tragic" celebrity death. Of course it's difficult for the families, but no more difficult than it is for any other family going through a personal loss. If anything makes semi-public grieving a harder pill to swallow, it's the paparazzi. Not the loss itself. All human lives end with equal gravity.

For the greater population, the only thing we have the right to mourn, the only thing that gives us the right to tweet en masse about the "tragedy" of it all, is the loss of potential. That I understand. It's the unexpected yanking away of an artist who could have turned out a work with such innovation and power to inspire that we will unknowingly suffer for not having seen it come to fruition. Heath Ledger, for example. Brilliant actor at the peak of his career. Heath Ledger's death was tragic. I realize that what I'm about to say will be controversial, but: Michael Jackson? He was the King of Pop. He changed American music immeasurably. But he lived a life full of self-hatred and public controversy. He hadn't put out a record in almost a decade, and even that was negligible in its musical impact. I would never say that Michael's life wasn't worth commemorating - even celebrating - but that, at least, felt a bit more like how things were supposed to end.

Anyway. I would be lying if I said that McQueen was one of my favorite designers, but as someone who has always applauded people who take risks over people who achieve so-called "perfection" (I mean, my style icon is fictional fashion nutjob Carrie Bradshaw), I think that his loss to the artistic community is a great one. Dubbed l'enfant terrible for his outspoken nature and his theatrical, risk-embracing approach to fashion design, he consistently brought fresh perspective to an industry that largely makes its buck off of recycled ideas. What takes the tragedy of McQueen's death to a whole new level is, of course, its supposed nature. Having dealt personally with losing friends to suicide, I never find the notion of it any easier to wrap my head around.

No one should ever feel like they have no other option.



I don't follow Alexander McQueen closely enough to give comprehensive highlights of his career, but this tulle and tartan confection is always the first thing that springs to mind when I hear his name (that's the designer himself posing with Sarah Jessica Parker). It's a little out there, but without question one of the more memorable red carpet looks of the '00s. If you'd like a bit more insight into McQueen's aesthetic, watch the "Bad Romance" video: Gaga is clad almost entirely in McQueen throughout.

Rest in peace, Lee McQueen. You will be dearly missed by the fashion community. All the best to your friends and family.

X marks the spot.

So I meant to post this for National Lady Gaga Day last Friday, but can we please talk about this Gaga spread from Out? It's from last September, but I just stumbled across it via The Cut.



















I just died. It's so artsy. It's so naked. It's so Gaga. I'm obsessed. Major props to photographer Ellen Von Unwerth and stylist Nicola Formichetti (of Haus of Gaga) for capturing this envelope-pusher with all of the shock factor her public persona demands and deserves.

I cannot text you with a drink in my hand.

No, you're not crazy: La Vie got a facelift. Do you dig it? Is it ruining your life? Holler at your girl.

So anyone who has spent a decent amount of time with me lately is all too aware that I am gaga for Gaga. I'm her biggest fan, I'll follow her until she loves me...you know. The works.



After receiving her new EP a few days early from fellow gaga-roupie Tracey, I'm gonna go ahead and give it my stamp of embarrassingly-high-iTunes-play count approval. My current obsession is "Telephone" (not to be confused with "Videophone," Gaga's other, lesser duet with Beyoncé), a night-out anthem in the vein of "Poker Face" that showcases Gaga's vocal chops as well as her ability to jog my ass out of my computer chair. Other standouts include the 1980s-esque "Dance In The Dark," creepy electro-ballad "Monster," and a silly but catchy tune by the name of "Alejandro." I wasn't even going to mention "Bad Romance," which I'm assuming you already know is life-changing. But just in case: