I was totally blown away when I first saw a photo of this hat--I think it was in InStyle, while I was convalescing last week--and immediately assumed I can't afford it, since I can't afford most things I like. (read: fine cheeses, designer jeans, caviar, organic produce)
But the cute straw hat gods have smiled upon us all, because it comes from the Eugenia Kim collection for Target, which hits stores April 18. The price range is $14.99-$19.99 a.k.a. almost criminal.
And ladies, don't get in my way.
I learned from the little Rodarte incident (which still really boils my blood when I think about it) and I will be at some North-side Target at 8 a.m. (wince, you with me Emilliner?) that Sunday morning if it kills me. Check out the rest of the hats below. The last couple I'm not crazy about but no one's perfect. Not even Eugenia Kim.
Also, thank you Target, for continuing to provide Midwesterners access to affordable designer clothing. Now if you could only do something about this Zac Posen party (psst! bring it here!), we'd be in business.
Update! When I shuffled into the office this morning (at 7am, yikes!) for the first time post-appendix, there was a Bling to Go sample awaiting me on my swivel chair. Here's a picture: Yep, it's just a long, leopard-print sticker, but it's meant to put on a cane (like the kind you use for walking, not the candy kind or the sugar kind or, ahem, any other kind). Now I just need to befriend someone with a limp so I can try it out...
Oh no, wait! I think I can do a "give away" with this, that is if any of you want it. If you do (no judgement) holler at me. It's yours.
I've really enjoyed reading everyone's responses to my critique of the Black Diamond fashion show. Although I've enjoyed writing something that incites such rapid debate, that makes the next topic tough to choose.
Having spent the last week recovering from an emergency appendectomy (I'll be fine), I've gained a fair bit of sartorial inspiration while shuffling past the nurses' station at St. Vincent and staring at my bedroom ceiling.
Which is why it's perfect I heard from the people at Bling to Go, a Carmel-based company that designs decals for crutches, IV poles, walkers and the like. I know, I know, you're itching to comment already.
Bling to Go was founded by Abby Appelt, a Carmel resident who got tired of crutching around on boring old gray titanium (or whatever crutches are made of). So she designed decals out of 3M medical-grade adhesive material that can be sanitized over and over.
Cool concept, and I think the camo pattern is pretty cool, because it would make a pair of crutches look like two twigs.
But I'm a bit confused by the name. The word "bling" implies sparkles of some sort, so I was expecting some rhinestones or at the very least some glitter. Oh well, maybe I've just given Appelt her next idea.
Bling to Go decals are an affordable way to cheer up medical equipment (starting at $8.99 for a cane or IV pole decal) but I think there is much improvement as far as the designs go. Most of the products, i.s. floating smiley faces and scattered football equipment look like they were torn straight from Microsoft clipart.
By the time I need an IV pole again, I hope that changes. Because as a girl who still decorates her cubicle with stickers and magazine pages, I'm always looking for the next way to jazz-up, well, anything.
I very much want to see Indianapolis' fashion scene blossom into something just as sustainable as it is fun. I want local boutiques to proudly stock the wares of local designers, who are able to support their talent without (much) moonlighting. And darn it, I want there to be enough material to warrant an entire Style section in the IBJ rather than just enough for my blog and a monthly 600-word column.
That's why it pains me to report last night's Midwest Fashion Week finale show was a disappointment. I know I'm not alone in this evaluation because not only did I hear similar comments at the after-events last night, I've also kept an eye on Facebook today.
Nobody has said anything negative, per se, but most are saying nothing at all.
If the biggest fashion show of the year generates hardly any buzz on Facebook, did anything of importance really take place at all?
*Grits teeth, takes deep breath.* Here goes.
The Issues:
1. Even the supporters are neglected. An event like a fashion week cannot exist unless there are people who truly believe in it, and people who are truly excited about it. Often those people are one and the same. There are many talented individuals who have offered their skills toward making this event something truly special, but unless they are rewarded with something to be proud of, that good faith will quickly dwindle. In fact, that's already begun to happen.
Nikki Sutton and Polina Osherov, both extremely talented and busy, donated publicity shot styling and photography (in my opinion the most successful elements of the proceedings) and in turn weren't sure if they'd receive a front row seat. Nor were their names mentioned anywhere on the program.
Nikki Blaine, one of the only local designers with a presence outside the city and the capability to manufacture, elected not to participate, since she's not really sure what she gets for her entry fee. Designers can't be expected to shell out $400 (I think?) to entertain their friends.
Petra Slinkard, curatorial associate of fashion and textiles, who has single-handedly represented the IMA in supporting local fashion, was not in attendance this year. Indianapolis Monthly--whose audience, let's face it, are actual potential customers-- has not bothered to send anyone to any of the events. The institutions with the most money and the most pull in the way of artistic support, it seems, have already lost interest.
When I arrived to the show, my name wasn't even on the list of attendees, even though I'd confirmed twice last week that I was.
So it makes me wonder: if the largest crusaders for the event are treated this way, who's getting the priority? If boutique owners were in attendance (I only saw one) hoping to make purchases, were they treated this way as well?
2. The attendance was very poor. Whicis part of a much larger marketing problem that probably comes from the fact that Berny simply can't do everything alone. I'd estimate almost half the seats remained empty at show time, and I'd guess it's because no one knew the event was happening until two weeks beforehand. Some friends in the media have told me they only knew of its existence because I told them.
A successful fashion event depends on hype. Where were the ads in local publications? Where were the posters? Where were the pre-event parties where everyone tries to prove they're chic enough to attend the real deal?
3. The house lights were on the whole show. When you're showing in a church basement, albeit a really fancy church basement (OK, I know the Scottish Rite isn't really a church, but it looks like one), I'd say some mood lighting is necessary to keep the whole thing from looking like a church fashion show.
At the after party I asked Berny Martin, coordinator, why this was. His response was, "the photographers need to take good pictures. It's not so much about us as it is them."
Well, hmm, the lights don't stay on in New York, and those photographers don't seem to have a problem. And no, it's not about the photographers. It's about the overall show, and the guests, and the clothes and the designers and the models and making everybody look as attractive as possible. Fashion is in fact all about the smoke and mirrors.
4. The clothes. (*wince*)
I was excited to see some out-of-town talent. But most of the clothes I saw last night were not runway-ready. (Save a few suits from Catou Couture and those capes from Mesela were quite exquisite.)
Models carried handbags that were wrinkled and misshapen. Many garments hung off models and in one case a model's taped-up chest was fully visible.
And some things were just unacceptable. A ruffled T-shirt dress with a giant picture of 2Pac, really? But as an attendee commented, "well, take 2Pac off that dress and it's still hideous. If anything 2Pac is making it worth-while."
I dubbed the green polyester gown with the round hole in the middle, "the buckshot dress," because it looked like someone had shot the poor girl in the belly with a shotgun, then adorned the wound with some cheap trim. (see lead photo)
And yet Emily Clark, who is arguably the most promising design talent in the city, was nowhere in sight. There should have been an entire sequence dedicated to her exquisite hats. Dress the girls in black catsuits so buyers can see their splendor. Emily's name, by the way, was on the program. Her stuff just wasn't in the show.
All I kept thinking was, if I were a store buyer, would I want to carry any of this? The answer is no, not really.
I could go on, but I'll stop here.
So, my suggestions (I'd love to hear all of yours in the comments below):
I'll concede many of these problems could be solved with more money, as is unfortunately the solution to many artistic woes. I also know there isn't a lot of money behind Midwest Fashion Week. I don't hold that against the institution, but it needs to be remedied.
Models, photographers and event staff need to get paid. There needs to be money for the event space, a budget for lighting, music, effects, set, hair, makeup, etc.
So I'd suggest a calendar of fund raisers, and an affiliation with an established institution. IMA, perhaps? IMOCA? Herron? These people know how to raise some cash; learn from them.
In the same conversation when Martin explained why the lights stayed on the whole show, he said, "the event is still a baby, give it time."
The thing is, it's not really a baby anymore, this was the sixth event.
It's not enough anymore to just do it; it has be good, or else it will eventually become a joke.
It's perilously close.
I say this because I want it to succeed. I want my talented friends to have a showcase worthy of their work.
And as a friend said to me last night, it's hard for the press to be honest in its critiques in such a small town. But this is me being honest, even though I know it means I may not be invited next time.
I published my column in the IBJ last week full of hope, and I endorsed this event as being the best yet. That is not what it was.
While composing my column on Midwest Fashion Week, I thought it appropriate to consult the lovely Christine Talevski on the inner-workings of New York Fashion Week. Seeing as she was once a high-up at Calvin Klein she'd know, right? I didn't know my quest for background info would result in a manicure at her salon, Spa at French Pharmacie, but it did. So I feel compelled to share the serene spot that it is.
I'd only visited the French Parmacie once before, back when it was a way-outta-my-price-range clothing boutique, where I seriously considered spending a week's bar haul on a $700 cocktail dress/work of art. Since then it's been transformed into a slate-floored, plaster-walled, minimalist chamber of primping.
If you haven't been yet, please go. The nail bar, whose furniture was designed by local tall-drink-of-water Travis James McElmurry, is casual enough for bluejeans but chic enough to serve you a glass of chardonnay. The aesthetics loft is like a sort of hippy haven, delightfully boho-chic but not in a barf-tastic trendy way.
This morning marked the debut of WISH-TV's new lifestyle show, "Indy Style." It made my heart swell with pride to see people I've come to know as friends finally receive some sort of broadcast recognition. Catherine Fritsch spoke a bout her Sweet Revenge sleep wear line (featured in my column here) while Nikki Sutton (featured in the column here) styled the models backstage. Bravo, ladies.
Now, aside from the theme song being atrocious, I liked the segment. It's pretty much what one would expect out of a Midwestern morning show. There's chipper banter between host and subject, there's a cooking segment, and well, yeah that's it.
I don't know a lot about TV journalism but I'm eager to see where this goes. My hope is that it doesn't turn into something of an infomercial full of product placement, as seems to happen with 9 a.m. programming.
I invite you to watch the segment below and share your thoughts.
In this week's column about Midwest Fashion Week I give a small history on New York Fashion Week and draw a comparison. When referencing a topic (like NYFW) that has its own vast story to be told, one has to make decisions about what's necessary to include and what will no-doubt lead the column off on a tangent worthy of many more than 650 words.
But after receiving two emails this weekend about Eleanor Lambert's Hoosierdome, I felt it necessary to give her a shout out here.
You may not be familiar with Lambert's name, but you're absolutely familiar with things she's created.
In addition to organizing the first Press Week (now NYFW) in 1943, she was the pen behind the Vanity Fair International Best-Dressed List, founded the Costume Institute and the Council of Fashion Designers of America, of which Diane Von Furstenberg is now head.
All of this from a girl raised in Crawfordsville, who attended John Herron Art Institute and later wrote a shopping column for The Indianapolis Star. (hey, there's hope for me, yet!)
Lambert was a legend and a pioneer in the universe of American fashion, and here in Indiana, we can call her one of ours.
When I scrolled upon these beauties on my morning blog roll (in The Cut) I gasped in awe of their ethereal beauty. These willowy wedges appeal to my fashion-y hippie style in a way footwear seldom does.
They evoke visions of throwing a fabulous cocktail party in a log-mansion, clinking glasses beside an enormous hearth while the sun sets over Lake Superior. (Oh, Michigan, I'm a bit home sick.)
But much like when I expressed my admiration for Sarah Jessica Parker's Chanel Oscar gown, my "oohs" and "ahhs" were met with "ews" and "yucks" from neighboring coworkers. I'll admit it, sometimes my tastes are too weird for general acceptance (even though Kathy Horyn of The New York Times and Andre Leon Talley of Vogue agree with me about the SJP gown) but I don't see how anyone could hate these precious zapatos.
So, dear readers, what do you think? The results of the last poll about a possible Carson Pirie Scott replacement--gosh you people love that store--shocked me, so I'm eager to see the results of this one.
To accompany the drama of the first female to win the Oscar for best director (Kathryn Bigelow) and Sandra Bullock's underdog win, was plenty of sartorial eye candy. I've felt disappointed by red carpet fashion of late, but last night's award show made for plenty of fashion food to feed on. Cameron Diaz was an absolute vision and Rachel McAdams was as fresh faced and beautiful as they come. Sandra Bullock was luminous with her super chic mane and Sandy Powell's daring vintage look was positively refreshing.
But then there was Zoe Saldana's weird cotton candy gown and Vera Farmiga's crystal pleated abomination.
Seated firmly atop my Oscar fashion food pyramid, however, is Sarah Jessica Parker. As I read the fashion blog frenzy this morning, I realize not only was I the only person at Lou's party who liked her silk toga number, I'm the only one in the world. Allow me to explain.
Her choice in Chanel was classic, but also appropriate, because I'm sure she--along with the rest of the country--thought "Coco Before Chanel" was going to win for Best Costume Design, the award she was presenting.
Today I've seen SJP's column silhouette compared to a gunny sack and called shapeless and cheap. I see things on another level. It's true, Parker chose not to flaunt her rockin bod, but instead to showcase the wearable art that is Chanel Haute Couture. Parker has an unusual kind of beauty, one not everyone understands, and so she embraces her own natural uniqueness by wearing things like this, that perhaps only she can pull off. The cowl back suspended from the neck sash was positively innovative and her oversized -bun hairdo balanced the concentrated interest at her neckline. It's true SJP is an idol of mine for several reasons (read: she's a style icon with a face shaped similar to mine, her TV character has my dream job, she's married to Ferris Bueller, she can wear a Philip Treacy hat without letting it wear her, the list goes on) but my high regard for her Oscar gown is completely independent of that. So, world, we're just gonna have to agree to disagree.
Now, my picks:
The Good
Carey Mulligan-Looked adorable in her Prada strewn with mini scissors and forks. That Rosemary's Baby haircut is perfect for her.
Cameron Diaz-Looked every bit an American beauty, complete with the tumbling blond tresses, sparkles and red lipstick. Although she wore all three of these things for her performance in "The Mask," she's come a LONG way.
Rachel McAdams-Looked gorgeous but approachable. Her winning smile is the perfect accessory to her watercolor gown.
Sandra Bullock-She seemed shocked to win the Oscar for Best Actress, but she definitely looked the part. Her hair looked disgustingly healthy and sleek, and her dress was a delicate as a snowflake...in March...you get the idea.
The Bad
Kathy Bates- I love me some Kathy Bates. She's one of those versatile actresses who's a constant favorite, despite the fact she's not a waif of a starlet. But jeez, that hairdo makes her look like she should be driving an old Lincoln 30 mph on the freeway. And that dress tells us her stylist was just too busy to find a dress that actually looks GOOD on a plus-size woman. He/she simply chose the first one that fit.
Queen Latifah-Argh. Pastel prom dress, moving on.
J. Lo-Lets ignore, for a moment, that her skirt makes her lower half resemble a lumpy, quilted burrito and focus on the fact that well, I think I just explained why this is awful.
Amanda Seyfried-seems confused as to the difference between a wedding gown and an evening gown.
The Ugly
Kate Winslet-From the neck up? Gorgeous. The rest looks like something my mom wore to my dad's office Christmas party in 1987...on the moon. Just dumb, and puckery! Vera Farmiga-Barf, just barf. Farmiga said on the red carpet she liked this thing because it looks like a flower. Well honey, so does a vagina, but that doesn't mean you should wear one on your dress. Zoe Saldana- It's just, well, hideous. I dig the sparkly bodice, but then it morphs into a giant purple loofah. Purple loofahs have their place mind you, but that's hanging from my shower caddy, not scrubbing the pile off the red carpet.
Charlize Theron- The only way those rosettes on her boobs could look any more stupid would be to add fingers on them so they would look like two pink hands grabbing her jubblies. At least then there would be a clear message...
We're yet to see hide nor hair of Alec Baldwin or Steve Martin but the $1 pool ballots are submitted and red carpet comments are abound. Among the commradery are the illustrious Liz Joss of Hetrick Communications, Amy Wimmer Schwarb of Indianapolis Monthly and of course, Lou Harry of Indianapolis Business Journal.
So far my fashion favorites are Sarah Jessica Parker wearing Chanel (very appropriate since "Coco Before Chanel" is nominated for best costume design), Cameron Diaz and Meryl Streep.
As I type, Doogie Howser is singing and dancing across the stage in a glittery jacket. Awesome. Stay tuned for updates, as I stuff myself full of Liz's frigging awesome guacamole.
8:45 p.m. Penelope Cruz is wearing a satin twisty tie
8:50 p.m. Sandra Bullock's lipstick is startling but actually quite attractive. Her dress reminds me a bit of Miley Cyrus' Zuhair Murad number, only the grown-up version.
8:56 p.m. Cameron Diaz is so freaking gorgeous, I'm sorry. I know she's the epitome of American glamour in that gold sparkly column and side-swept golden tresses, so much so it's nearly a cliche. But darn it, I wanna look like that.
9:01 p.m. Miley Cyrus' boobs look like they were squeezed into those cups with a turkey baster. And why is Amanda Seyfried wearing a wedding gown? Nose crinkle.
9:12 p.m. I have a girl crush on Tina Fey. Her one-shoulder gown is OK, but frankly she could be wearing a spandex catsuit and it would be OK. I never thought I'd admire someone named Tina so much.
9:23 p.m. It's like Macaulay Culkin must sleep in a jar of formaldehyde. Seriously, scary.
9:40 p.m. If Ben Stiller had actually starred in Avatar, perhaps I would watch it.
9:45 p.m. Earlier-mentioned Amy Wimmer Schwarb just asked me to audition for the part of Any Wimmer Schwarb in the play she just wrote. What do you think? Could I be actress? Could I play a 22 year old rookie reporter in a newsroom full of old farts? Wait...
9:50 p.m. Rachel McAdams' dress makes me want to go on vacation, but first marry a sugar daddy who could buy me a dress like that to wear on said vacation.
10:10 p.m. apparently I'm the only one in the room who loves, or even likes, Sarah Jessica Parker's Chanel. I'm outvoted, but I'm still freaking correct.
10:19 p.m. Kristen Stewart was a little antsy in her pantsy. Did she have to go potty?
While doing research for next month's column (the subject is top-secret) the topic arose of my nemesis, Carson Pirie Scott. I have a feeling I'm not alone in thinking there's a better use for the former L.S. Ayre's flagship space, but I'd like to put it to a vote. What do you think would work better at one of our city's busiest intersections?
If you don't like any of the choices, please post other suggestions as comments.
There are days when I wonder about Twitter's merits, like whether it's actually useful or if it's just one more time-suck destined to distract my attentions from any number of tasks at hand. However, today is not one of those days, since it introduced me to Girls Pint Out, a group for girls who love beer.
These hotties into hops regularly gather for beer tastings, tours, etc. in the interest of supporting craft brewers and proving once and for all that beer is not just a "guy thing." This is a cause I can get behind. Not to mention the T-shirts--a restroom sign girl symbol holding a frosty mug--are cute in a smart way.
As someone who recently attended a cocktail hour to talk about hats and view a friend's collection of chapeaux, I'm a nerd just waiting for the next outlet for all my pent-up geekiness. I'm also a rather recent barley babe, since my love for beer blossomed only a year or so ago when I had my first Stella Artois.
I fear my choice in suds is too mainstream to be accepted as a card-holding member of GPO, but my palate has yet to be more smitten with another brew. Nevertheless, I'm willing to learn, which is why I shelled out 65 big ones to attend the Sun King dinner at R Bistro last week. (Cream ale, yum. Oatmeal Stout, just as delicious as it is heavy.)
I have never met an active member of this group, and the Web site doesn't really say how to join, but thanks to Twitter I know I'm connected somehow. Suppose I'll start there.
I was totally blown away when I first saw a photo of this hat--I think it was in InStyle, while I was convalescing last week--and immediately assumed I can't afford it, since I can't afford most things I like. (read: fine cheeses, designer jeans, caviar, organic produce)
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