Exactly one year ago today I blogged about the arrival of my third niece. She’s since been promoted from the gạo to Lil A, though at the rate she’s growing, she’ll soon be Med A. She’s currently on her world tour and spending our birthday weekend with her maternal grandparents. I won’t get to see her for a bit longer so it will be some time before I can get that shot of us together in our matching Sonia Rykiel…
or Stella wear:
As such, these pics will have to do for today’s blog until I figure out how to Photoshop us together. I don’t know about you, but I gotta go get me some of that one-year-old skin…and bottle it.
I know Mother’s Day isn’t until May around the world, but in my little universe April 18th is now and forever Mother’s Day. My mom became a mother for the second time when I was born on this day last century, and my little sister followed suit last year with her first child. Coincidentally, my aunt also became a mom on that day when my cousin Steven was born.
I don’t think I’ve ever liked the idea of making a big deal out of my own birthday. When I was a kid I couldn’t wait to skip them all and become an adult and rule the world. And learn to drive, wear high heels. Or drive while wearing high heels. If I could age two years at a time, that would have been fine by me. And now that I’ve been out in this world trying not to get ruled by it for more decades than I can even imagine, I wish I could un-age three years at a time–then in a few years I’d be the same age as Lil A and we could go shoe shopping together.
Did someone say shoes?!
I’ve been told I’m not so easy to buy presents for, but I think for this year, I’ll collect it the next time I’m in NY….one big juicy kiss from that lil one. Happy (early) Mother’s Day everyone!
I’m pulling a Tiger Woods and making an unnecessarily public apology today. On the way to shopping rehab I’ve done a complete face plant. Have fallen and cannot get up. My shopping ban has been a total failure; I blame some of it on my weakness and a lot more on the releases of Sonia Rykiel at H&M and Jean Paul Gaultier (JPG) at Target on March 7. So after this week (hey, at least I’m not lying about cheating with JPG), I will head back to rehab. No timeline as to when I will return to the sporting world of shopping.
Since all of my shopping skeletons are rattling their way out of my closet anyway, I might as well confess about the jaunt to Robertson Boulevard this past weekend. You know, the short but deadly block where you can find the second Chanel boutique (I actually love this cozy location a little more than its big sister in Beverly Hills) a few doors down from the paparazzi’d The Ivy restaurant and the enchanting Les Habitudes boutique.
I had stopped by Robertson to check out the new 1969 boutique that the GAP has recently made a permanent fixture after using it as a pop-up store for the Stella McCartney for GapKids release. If you like denim as much as I do, this is a fun place to see all kinds of jeans openly displayed in a way that I wish I could replicate in my own closet. OMG I’m such a liar! I didn’t come here to check anything out…I came here to buy a jacket that had quickly sold out. I know, there’s a GAP in every town to supply the whole country but believe it or not, they do come up with something once in a while that becomes a hard-to-find best seller. The Robertson location had the only XS that I could find in this region. So here’s the $59.50 black knit motorcycle jacket (PS: my lil sis even had a 20% off coupon for me to use! what a score!):
But even standing inside the GAP at 109 S. Robertson, I could feel the gravitational pull from 125 N. Robertson. It’s probably whatever voodoo spell Karl Lagerfeld has put on me that made me march straight from the GAP to the Chanel boutique. I knew it was wrong, didn’t want to do it, but my feet went on autopilot, and there I was inside the breezy foyer of the store in under 60 seconds. Putting this Chanel addict inside the white walled boutique is like locking an alcoholic inside a liquor store. So many beautiful bags and shoes and clothes on display! Who cares that I’ve seen a Chanel jacket reinvented a million times–with each season’s new buttons and trims, it’s as if I’m looking at it for the first time. And I fall in love all over again. So maddening that Lagerfeld refuses to release an ugly collection when I’m on a ban!
Anyway, on the first floor near the window, what do I spy but a black knit motorcycle jacket–the very same one that I had seen from trunk show pictures earlier this year. The very same one that had been added to my Spring buy list:
Let’s just say the tax alone on the Chanel version is about 4 times the total price of my GAP one after tax. And except for the quilting on the hems and logo on the zipper pulls, I honestly can’t say I could justify the sticker shock. Chanel’s leather version of the moto jacket, however, is a different story. Now that’s one cool jacket but it’s also twice as much as its knit version. I clutch my GAP find a little tighter and think I’ll save my pennies for a classic Chanel tweed jacket instead. On some trendier pieces, it’s enough to fill the craving with something non-designer as long as the quality and fit are decent. And of course if the price is right!
Luckily the rain was coming and that prodded me to leave the store before I could talk myself into buying something…some thingS. I’ve already failed the ban and couldn’t make it worse by sticking around here. But this one brief peek inside the boutique did trigger a question, and I’ll blog about that in the next entry.
Anyhow, in the words of Tiger Woods, “I want to ask for your help. I ask you to find room in your hearts to one day believe in me again.” Because let’s face it, I don’t believe in me when I say I can stop shopping. Do you?
I’m going to bump the entry about my luggage for this fashion interruption. And since sometimes it’s more fun to see fashion beyond static photography, why don’t you come vlog with me today. It’s actually a confession of how I fell off the shopping (ban) wagon. Again. I know, I meant to only tip-toe into the store and check out the Sonia Rykiel for H&M collection for Lil A’s baby clothes, but $241 later, here I am in the confessional, wearing the evidence.
PS: that’s my furkid walking in front of the camera. He wants air time, too.
PPS: If you think this video sucks, be thankful you didn’t see the bloopers. This was take 6 and I could barely contain my giggles. I’ll just stick to the old blogging and leave vlogging to the professionals.