My devotion to Max Studio continues. As does my devotion to the cute white shirt that will remain white and cute for approximately 13 minutes after leaving the store. You stop for a hamburger and though you aren't yet wearing the shirt, you will still manage to drip ketchup into the bag so it soaks through the tissue paper to stain your new white shirt.

Or maybe that's just me.

After some consideration, I have decided that I do, in fact, like the bubble skirt. Especially these. Especially with those white shirts.


I provide such stunning fashion commentary, don't I? I aim to be known for my good taste so I don't even need to explain WHY I like it, I just need to say that I do. And someone will care. Yes, self delusion runs in the family.

I am not averse to occasionally spending more than strictly necessary on a piece of clothing that I really like. But I simply do not understand paying $188 for a white t-shirt. Does that t-shirt also dust under your appliances and walk the dog? If not, go to Ross.


That said, I did pay $25 for a white t-shirt once and am glad I did. It's much nicer than a cheaper one and I wear it quite often. But 188 bucks. Damn.

Everyone from Jackie O to the Pink Panther will tell you that the little black dress is a wardrobe staple. What they won't tell you is where the hell to get one. One that doesn't make you look like a professional funeral attendee. We know they're out there - other women wear them constantly. But where? Pink Mascara came through today. I'm very tempted to replace my little black dress, circa 2001, with this lovely wrap dress:

This citrine necklace from Jennifer Sarkilahti is just the cure for the department store jewelry doldrums. Words like "bold" and "original" used in conjunction with fashion make me cringe, but I'm using them anyway. Because it is.

Feel free to whip it out the next time your sister flashes her 4 carat engagement ring. Maybe you'll manage to accidentally hit her in the eye. Oops.

My new bluff dust from Benefit was an exchange, so I have not yet abandoned my No Shopping Credo. I won't tell you about the mascara that also found its way into my bag. Like all cosmetics, this product is Amazing! Restorative! Will cure that cold AND find you a better job!

Or at least get rid of some of that redness. That's all I hope for.

Kate Spade earned my devotion with her bags - her lovely, simple bags. Bags without multiple things hanging off its expensive handle, like string cheese hanging from your mouth after you've taken a bite of fresh pizza.

I am now enraptured with her shoes as well. Just look at these beauties:


Sure, they're a bit impractical. Those flowers are ripe to catch stray bits of soup. (Yes, I have been known to spill soup on my feet.) But who buys shoes for their practicality? NOT ME!

I need to find an outfit for an outdoor barbeque wedding celebration. This eliminates most of the usual wedding options, as an outdoor venue with tables full of dripping spare ribs is a guaranteed menace to all pastel linen. But this sunny cotton halter dress might just be appropriate. Too bad my closet has somewhat fewer options than the vast recesses of the internet.


Hey, look! The internet even has matching shoes! That crafty world wide web.

Don't even attempt to take this dress off the hanger unless your abs are perfect. That said, this Elie Tahari linen dress is beautiful. I love the gathered bodice and simple design.


Too bad zipping it up would mean forgoing blueberry muffins for the forseeable future.

Online shopping can be tricky the way blind dating can be tricky. You don't quite know what you're getting until it lands on your doorstep. Sure, the picture looks good but somehow didn't quite capture the waistline or major personality flaws. Unfortunately, disposing of a bad online purchase requires considerably more postage than does your blind date.

Yet we still all do it in hopes that THIS time it will work. I'm tempted to hit Bluefly again for this excellent top:


But I'm staying the hell away from match.com.

My shopping ban is being briefly lifted so I can find myself some new walking shoes. I am finally retiring my dusty brown docs. They deserved their retirement approximately six years ago and, as they are also a crime of fashion past the age of 15 (assuming you were 15 in 1995, of course), they will now be consigned to my brief episodes of hiking. Also known as severe lapses in judgment.

I have my eye on a pair of danskos as a replacement:


Along with about six other pairs. Sadly, none of these other six are comfortable (yet stylin') red boots, which would be my distinct preference. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery?

For those days when dragging a sweater to work was clearly a bad idea. Though the words "tube top" tend to make me think "mid-80s throwback", I really like this halter version. For $22 from Indie Shopper, you can't go wrong. Especially with all those fluffy white skirts that are appearing, making women everywhere really concerned about ketchup.

Pitter-pat. That's my heart. With its attendant noises. I do love sales. I also love this black and white skirt and sweater set from Neiman Marcus. On sale. If you're worried because the computer is blowing air into your face, rest assured that the strength of my sighs are just leaking through your screen. Technology is amazing.

Please excuse my absence yesterday. I was recovering from a nasty bout of don't-want-to-shop-and-don't-want-any-donuts. It was rather serious. But I'm back with a pair of shoes that I am THIS close to buying. Because they are darned cute.


(For all you people out there who want details: Oscar de la Renta from Bluefly. $72. Still cute. They also come in pink. Here, kitty, kitty...)

Courtesy of Noise Bot.

Hello, my dears!

I just realized that I left the house in shoe-to-crown raspberry corduroy this morning. For those of who you are about to close your browsers in horror, allow me to reassure you that this was not intentional. Which may be worse, come to think of it. This is the problem with having a wardrobe that is no longer all black. I might put on red corduroy pants and then, 20 minutes later as I'm walking out the door, grab my red corduroy jacket because I've forgotten what I put on 20 minutes earlier. I look like I'm 8 years old and threw a fit because I wanted to wear ALL RED, ALL THE TIME!

P.S. The raspberry corduroys don't match.

In honor of such an embarrassing occasion, I offer you this:



I'm not really a Fendi girl, I'm sorry to say, but I'm definitely a red purse kind of girl. And that is one hell of a red purse.

The first time I walked into Neiman Marcus, I totally didn't get it. Why are these pants $500? Who in their right mind would pay $2,000 for a jacket? I have since mended the error of my ways. I still don't know anyone who would pay $2,000 for a jacket, but I now understand why they would. Yet I never thought I would ever actually BUY anything at Neiman Marcus. Prohibitive pricing for one in my income bracket, customers who look too tan to be human, clothes that would not look good with raspberry jam stains.

This makes me want to change my mind.


A strapless dress from Neiman Marcus. It's beautiful. It's in my size. It's on sale for $100. My No Shopping credo stands, but this is seriously testing my will power.

I love orange and, thanks to my recent vacation, I love flying fish. I was always the loser who was last to the side of the boat when someone yelled "turtle!" or "flying fish!" or "Shamu!" I never did see Shamu. But finally, as I was swimming, I turned around to tread water for awhile and a whole school of fish flew right right past my face, about three feet away. If my mouth was open, I probably would have gotten an unexpected fishy snack. This skirt reminds me of that. Plus, it's super cute.


At J Crew for $138, it's a little steep for me right now. Think my Late Souvenir justification would, um, fly?

So you fell in lust with the hot prince, traded in your tail, and he left you for the wench next door. Oh, is he going to regret that when he discovers what's under the wonder bra. This is the dress for multitasking. Regain your former mermaid glory, show him what he's missing, and score the even hotter fisherman down the block.

Or, you know, wear it out to dinner. Either way.


I love the style and color of the L'Argentine dress (scroll almost all the way down the page to find it). Flattering in the slim-you-down-and-curve-you-out-in-all-the-right- places sort of way.

I browse eluxury when I am indulging my delusions of grandeur. Delusions like, When I write that bestselling expose about Gavin Newsom, Britney Spears and Carrot Top, I will be able to afford that red convertible Mini and something (on sale) at eluxury!

Delusions are fun.

This gingham camisole from Marc Jacobs is just the thing for a famous expose writer to wear while lounging in a coffee shop with her dark sunglasses and notebook.


Look out, J Lo. You're next.