THIS SKIRT LITERALLY CAUGHT ON FIRE*

Oh yes, a second Thanksgiving celebrated in NYC. Since living here has more than its share of ups and downs, I thought I'd compile a list of all the particularly NY things I'm thankful for.


Picking my produce up on the daily. Street side vendors make this super convenient, affordable, and always fresh.

The subway. It's a love/loathe situation, but sometimes it's great to be able to completely zone out on the morning commute or late night bender. No longer worrying about a DD!


My sister. As much as we fight, I don't think I would have made it as long here trying to "follow my dream" or whatever it is I'm doing. She's an amazing support system. (These are our matching holiday feet).


Vegan/vegetarian restaurants & menus. Whether it's a chain restaurant or locally owned cafe, there are plenty of options, and they are almost always marked on the menu. I forget how "troublesome" vegetarian eating is back home (and the attitudes of the people there don't help).

Holiday windows. Fantastic displays of imagination. I'm especially excited about seeing the Bergdorf's ones IRL. I think I like the sparkly sailor best.


These pictures were taken in the new home I'm moving into. (I told you I have lots of news!) I say home because it's a three-story brownstone, 5 bedrooms, 1 full bath and two half baths. It's a beautiful Victorian fixer-upper (as you can tell by the stairs). I cannot wait to get started.

Vintage gingham button down (thrifted)/Vintage 50s beaded cardigan (VTS)/Urban Outfitters party skirt/Zara belt/Gap sparkle knee socks (scrunched down)/Antonio Melani studded t-straps (Dillards)

*It's okay now.

What do you do when a bear rolls up on you?

Sooooo... we went camping in the Catskills for my birthday last weekend. Not a very fashion-y thing to do, but I LOVE NATURE. I am a total nature girl; when I get in it, I JUST HAVE TO RUN.

I don't understand it, but even a trip back from the restroom (this is luxury camping y'all, none of that wild Louisiana stuff) necessitates a run. Everyone was like, "Why is she running?!?!"
Planning the trip was a total pain. This isn't the pick-up-and-go trip that I'm used to. No, you need reservations (for a spot in the woods--are they serious??), a car, and to buy a sleeping bag because no one wastes space having one of those just lying around.

BUT DON'T GET ME WRONG, IT WAS ALL TOTALLY WORTH IT. We roasted marshmallows, turned them into s'mores, and nearly fell asleep on the ground near the fire, untented. One of the best birthdays in recent years, to be sure.

After camping, we took the opportunity for a tiny detour through Woodstock, NY. We stopped at a charming yard sale, a unique and tempting art gallery (their words), and THE WORLD'S LARGEST KALEIDOSCOPE. And look at these pumpkins!
I'm kind of ready for fall.

I had this great fashion-y camping outfit planned that involved a turban, a plaid flannel, and some sensible layering. As it turns out, it wasn't that chilly, so I ended up in a white F21 t-shirt, black legging pants, Aerie sample coziest knit cardigan and gladiators.
(I pretty much stole all of these pictures from my roommate and NYBF's blog. Check her out, she's pretty good.)

Ding Dong, Balmainia's Dead

I'm not one to be a negative Nancy, but I do think there is some room for informed critique on this blog. Like many an editor at the recent Balmain show, I was completely...underwhelmed.

True, I was never personally a fan of the sharp, crystallized shoulders of yesteryear, but at least I could appreciate the great tailoring and workmanship walking down a runway (or on Beyonce). Decarnin's offering for SS11, on the other hand, seems completely devoid of inspiration. It goes punk, but only weakly so.

Lackluster leathers top the blandest of denim, resulting in some sort of mediocre mom's idea of staying "cool". The makeup is naked and forgetable, the hair barely tousled, the safety pins cliche. It's punk tempered through a mass-market lens, and it's not good.

I'd like to think this is part of some grander statement about fast fashion or fashion in general, but given head designer Christopher Decarnin's penchant for the style, it's not likely. Or maybe all the flack is simply the reflection of fashion's fickle taste and timely turn away from worn out trends. Either way you slice it (or in this case, shred it), Decarnin fails to maintain relevance.

What would have been nice (and much more luxe!) are unique cuts, perforations or slices to the obviously supple leathers. Instead of here-a-pin-there-a-pin placements, the safety accoutrements could have been used to create interesting tensions along the fabric. Or what about beaded or studded pins arranged to create Chuck Close-like images? As for the jeans, I'm not sure if anything could save them.

In sum, I cannot believe these things are on a runway looking like a Rave store. In Paris, no less!

Martha, Martha, Martha!

I forgot that last week I attended a live taping of the Martha Stewart show. My store was invited to go because it was a special episode all about consignment shopping, thrifting and vintage.

The set was even more beautiful in person, Martha was charming (and soooo dead-on when taping her promotional materials), and OMG…..one of the special guests was Iris Apfel!

Iris brought several of her own pieces that she styled on the mannequins. The jewelry was in.sane. She talked about staying the same size your whole life so you can collect amazing pieces and the fact that she was wearing 25lbs of accessories. I’m not sure how much of a joke that is.

Also on the show were model and avid vintage collector Tatiana Sorokko, along with designer Ralph Rucci. They brought a few of the best pieces from her clothing exhibit at the Phoenix Art Museum, going on now through January 2. The piece de resistance was this gorgeous hand painted Ralph Rucci dress. It recieved a lot of ooohs and aaaahs. Up close, it was pretty amazing.

I wore a smattering of vintage and secondhand goods. Everything I’m wearing is thrifted or secondhand (excluding the tights…gross!). I guess they liked my look because they sat me in the second row next to the live (and on-camera) Martha tweeters. Prime seats!

I call this shirt my haunted house shirt because of the print. It’s Miu Miu meets the creepy time traveler old lady’s house in Donnie Darko. Plus, it kind of goes along with Tavi’s whole teen witch vibe, although admittedly, it’s more 70s Halloween than 90s laissez-faire . I think she could get down with that.

F21 leopard jacket, 60s red flower pin, antique style citron ring and rhinestone ring (Vintage Thrift store); Haunted House shirt (Beacon’s Closet); Wool High Waisted Shorts (Salvation Army); Natural Comfort platforms (The Dressing Room); Sarah Coventry gold heart necklace (St. Vincent de Paul Thrift);

I don't have to be anything!

I had to do it. I had to go private and disappear for a while. Sorry, folks.

----

I recently gained insight into why I’ve been hating on this blog. The main reason is because I felt that it turned into something that wasn’t me. It seems so obvious now, but for the past year or so, I’ve been a blogging funk. A lot of that had to do with my move to NYC, being surrounded by wildly successful people, people who came here because they wanted things just like I did. And their dreams seemed to be coming true, almost effortlessly, while I interned and slaved away for the most meager of perks. What exactly was I doing wrong?

I became so concerned about what my blog should be and how it could lead to future jobs (which are so scarce right now) that I lost track of what I loved about it in the first place. I studied blogs as a product; I attended conferences, I collected advice and I doled it out just as easily. As it turns out, the very thought of monetizing and capitalizing on what is essentially me, my own self, my blog, was enough to ruin whatever (non-monetary) value it once had.

I thought about giving it up. I thought about it a LOT. I toyed with the idea of getting a new name and moving to WordPress (turns out I’m too uncreative to come up with another suitable name). All the while I was worried that abandoning this blog would cost me my small, but awesome group of followers. Even more grotesquely I thought, “I need to keep this up so I can put it on my resume.” And that's when I realized that that was the whole problem.

In the end, it all came back to the pressure to do something with my blog and turning that success into being something in real life. If there's anything that gypsy craft night reminded me of, it's that I don’t have to be anything!

I’m good enough, right now, just as I am.

After mulling over the options for the past few weeks, I've decided to stick with it. Mostly because I couldn't settle on a name I liked, but also because I don't think it's necessary to throw the baby out with the bath water (and this is definitely my baby!). I don't need a new blog; I just need a new perspective.

So, I’m releasing the pressure to live up to the glory days of AGD, whenever that was. The truth is that it’s only become a hindrance to all the growth I should be welcoming in my life. New York City moves fast, and I've got to move with it.

Let’s try this again.

CATURDAY THE 28TH

This weekend was awesomesauce applesauce full of brownies and win. Alexandra and I made like gypsies at the Family Dollar school supplies craft aisle.

(There are no Hobby Lobbys in NY!)

We laid everything out on F$'s floor, divided it up, and then added some balloons, a birthday banner, and crystal growing kit for good measure.
Back at home, we rearranged all the lamps in the house so we could have cozy light instead of unpleasant overheads. Then we blew up the balloons (except red), hit the framboise and made Betty Crocker brownies for the most decadent unbirthday night ever.

And look what we made! (This one is Alex's.)
(do what you wanna)

Following the instructions of Miranda July's Learning to Love You More project, we started with what seemed like an easy one. Appropriate, too, because this relentless job-search, job-advice, network-building stuff has me hating it all.

So, you know what?
I don't have to be anything.