Tag Archives: style

Baby Take a Bow


I was at the opera recently and at the very end, on cue, our heroine collapsed and the curtain came in.   No, no, not the soprano onstage.  Me!  Yes, me with the severe vasovagal syncope.  As you may or may not know, it is traditional in the opera for the director of the production to bow opening night and in my rush to get backstage to take my curtain call at Pittsburgh Opera’s “La Boheme,” I slipped and fell in the house.  Rising quickly, thinking I was fine and just a little woozy, I made my way backstage and was standing in the wings waiting for my big moment.  I remember moving over to the proscenium wall to brace myself against some dizziness and next thing I know, I wake up on the floor with my legs over my head.  Apparently, my co-director, a former medic in the Israeli army (lucky for me, you say), saw the birdies circling over my head and lowered me to the floor, lifting my legs in the process.  Lucky, you say?  When I opened my eyes and my dress was over my head, all I could think of was THANK GOD I’M NOT WEARING CONTROL TOP!

My purpose here is not to elicit your sympathy or concern for my arterial health (though I do appreciate it and I’m fine, thank you very much) but to point out what our mothers stressed back when we were learning to drive: BE SURE TO WEAR NICE UNDERWEAR, since you never know who is going to see it!  Personally, I am somewhat obsessed with this.  I can’t wear a bra and panties that don’t match, or at the very least, coordinate.  JZ says it tells you a lot about who I am and I would say it borders on the pathological except that my friend, the Broadway actor, Judy Blazer, I was delighted to discover, feels the same way.  We belong to a club of two called The Panty Patrol.  Now I grant you that we are the extreme, but every woman, as well as you men out there, should give serious consideration to the condition of your underpants.  Especially as we get older, more weird stuff happens, no?  And since we can’t prevent all the indignities of unexpected accidents, why not at least try to prevent some of the humiliation? 

Undies aren’t meant to last forever or even more than a couple of seasons.  Got a favorite brand?  Stock up and dole them out a couple pair at a time as they wear out.  You don’t need to spend a lot of dough.  Target (I know, I know, my favorite…) has a really nice line called Gilligan and O’Malley.  Their mesh lace hipster is really comfortable, no VPL*, comes in great colors (I prefer the “Mochachino”) and is only five dollars.  Five dollars!  Gap is another great place to pick up unmentionables-that-are-here-being-mentioned.  They make great bras that are very reasonable, especially if you take advantage of the thirty or forty percent off often offered on line.  And with their free shipping/free returns policy you can be assured of the right fit in the comfort of your boudoir.  Want a real treat?  Go to Saks Fifth Avenue and ask the lingerie salesperson to do a bra fitting.  She’ll bring you the correct size, (chances are you are not currently wearing it) in an array of styles that may be pricey, but you’ll feel like an opera star.

As for the aforementioned pantyhose, obviously, if you’re wearing knits, control top is the way to go.  Calvin Klein makes my favorite, the Infinite Sheer.  Look for the denier number on the back of the package.  The lower the number, the sheerer the hose, i.e. a forty would be opaque, a twelve, very sheer.  Their Infinite Sheer is a seven denier and they’re practically invisible.  I apply some hand cream before I put them on to avoid snags. 

If you’re not wearing a knit skirt you can wear the control just on top with a long leg look with Nordstrom’s new French Cut, or Donna Karan’s The Nudes, or Hue’s So Sexy French Lace Sheers.  BareNecessities.com is a great site with lots of brands and styles that offers discounts.  Nordstrom’s private label is made by a big-time hosiery company and offers a price break when you buy three pair at a time.

But PLEASE, no reinforced toe.  Ever.  And if you’re wearing open toed shoes or sandals, forget the hose.  Buy some tan-in-a-can instead.  But’s that’s a whole other blog.  Meantime, let’s drink to lovely lingerie! 

Bottoms up!

*Visible Panty Line







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And the Oscar Goes To…


Did you watch the Academy Awards?  I did.  Starting with the red carpet at 7pm because, let’s face it; the main reason to watch the Oscars is to see what everyone is wearing and how they look.  I thought this year was especially attractive.  There weren’t, in my opinion, any real disasters as in years past (Cher, Bjork, Celine Dion – the backwards suit, come to mind).  In fact I thought it was a display of considerable class and restraint.  Simple, yet elegant, nothing to outré.  Of course, quite a few fashionistas were absent.  I didn’t see Nicole Kidman or Renee Zellweger.  I missed J. Lo and Gwyneth Paltrow.  No Johnny Depp, who can usually be counted on to not only look weird, but as if he hasn’t bathed in a week.  Too harsh?

Yes, I thought over all, the celebs were well turned out and if you tuned in you were treated to some very bee-yoooo-teeee-ful looks.  I’m gratified that the younger among our movie stars are showing some taste and sensibility.  It’s encouraging.  Not so true of the older set.  Why is it, when some film stars get to a certain age (or uncertain, as they would no doubt prefer) they forget how to appear in front of a camera?  Or maybe they just don’t care.  Hard to tell.  Why is it some insist on hanging on to a look they should have given up back when Johnny Carson was host?  Plastic surgery can only do so much.  Now I’m not saying that every face lift is a bad lift.  I think one can have work done and still maintain some facial integrity.  But did you see poor Kim Novak?  She used to be so beautiful.  She used to have a face.  Her mouth was pulled so far horizontally she looked like she was created by Jim Henson.  Goldie Hawn (whom I LOVE, btw)?  What is she thinking?  Wear some sleeves.  Cut your hair, girl, and stop trying to look like a twenty year old.  As Rob Reiner told her character in “First Wives Club,” “Another face lift and you’ll be able to blink your lips.” And Liza?  I can’t even go there.

But there were some mature women who looked beautiful, radiant, elegant, and most importantly, age appropriate.  So here are my nominees for Best Achievement in Aging:

Glenn Close – I’ll say right up front that some of the fashion police didn’t like her ensemble.  She wore a black Zac Posen fishtail gown with a little shrug-type jacket.  Eonline.com complained that she should have ditched the jacket, but she knew what she was doing.  She was keeping her upper arms under wraps and I thought she looked great.  Plus, her hair, her make-up, all very natural but stylish, said confidence and sophistication.  Gorgeous, IMHO.

Meryl Streep – I once had the pleasure of waiting on Meryl in the specialty department store where I was a buyer, and by her own admission, she doesn’t have much style sense.  Often she’s appeared at the Oscars looking like she threw on her Aunt Edna’s discarded evening gown and put her hair in a banana clip.  Not so, this time.  First off, her luminescent, porcelain, clearly unaltered face glowed with her hair neatly pulled back.  She wore small earrings and left her glasses at home and she appeared Madonna-like (the religious one) in a simple Lanvin black skirt and cream off-the-shoulder top.  I thought she looked stunning.

June Squibb – This woman, who played Bruce Dern’s nagging and outspoken wife in the nominated film, “Nebraska” is eighty-four years old and she totally rocked the red carpet in an emerald green Tadashi Shoji gown which was one piece but had the look of a dress and fitted jacket.  Again, with long sleeves.  You can bet this woman hasn’t had a thing lifted but with her white hair and red lips she conveyed style and sass.  I should look that good at seventy, never mind eighty.

Bette Midler – I thought she looked fabulous in her short-sleeved Reem Acra, red and white floral gown.  The fit was fantastic and she just wore simple earrings, her hair in its usual semi-retro, blonde curls.  Very unfussy and totally flattering.   She looked like, well, herself!

And finally, Sally Field – She’s been the butt of Oscar jokes since her “You like me” speech at her best actress win for “Norma Rae” but for someone who seemed to need our approval years ago, she stepped out at age sixty-seven with grace and confidence in a beautifully embellished but simple, short-sleeved, black Randi Rahm gown.  If that girl has had work done, you’d never know it.  Gidget grew up gracefully.

In my opinion they’re all winners, and it just goes to show that like Oscar, with some suitable style, you’re golden.


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Looking Cool While Staying Warm

Honestly, I thought Polar Vortex was a tenor from Eastern Europe.  Not until I saw the news last night, explaining the frigid temperatures that have gripped the country this week, did I realize it was a weather front visiting us like a late-date Santa, from the North Pole.  Today I’m feeling downright tropical because it’s heated up to a balmy 8.  I mean, I grew up in Schenectady but still!  Until I moved to central Vermont, fleece was a word I uttered once every seventeen years and usually in a nursery rhyme.  Now it’s part of my daily conversation.

But I’m finding after seven years of living here that it’s possible to embrace my inner Eskimo and dress chicly while fighting off frostbite.  And if your warm wardrobe isn’t complete, now is a good time to supplement it as most retailers are offering big after-Christmas discounts.

A few things I’ve discovered, well, actually two: long underwear top and long underwear bottom.  However, unlike the bulky, itchy things my mother made me wear as a kid, there are plenty of very thin but very warm options.  Winter Silks has a great line of lightweight long underwear that can really make a difference and they’re having a 60% off sale right now.  I also really love Hot Chillys, available on Amazon, and I’ve had good luck at Loehmann’s, when I can get to one, with higher-end-for-less-money silk long johns that have lasted me for years.  These garments are critical not only for staying warm once you’ve stepped away from the fire, but for preventing the itching of…

Heavy sweaters.  Now is a great time to buy.  Lots of sales, coupons and good deals from Banana Republic, J.Crew, Nordstrom, Saks, Neiman Marcus, you name it.  Look for the cashmeres that are left over from Christmas.  Some great buys there and if that’s not enough, check out retailmenot.com which offers discount codes for many, many retail sites.

Because I happen to have bad circulation in my fingers and toes I’ve taken to wearing cashmere socks which sounds like a big luxury but is really pretty cost effective.  They’re warm enough for wearing with boots, but thin enough for shoes and they feel divine.  By January, prices have dropped and a couple pairs of these babies will keep your tootsies toasty.  If you wash them on the delicate cycle and hang to dry they’ll last forever.  For the fingers, I’ve found that mittens are the only thing that works for me.  These days many are made with glove linings and a mitten top that you can flip back when you need to use your digits.  The “Thinsulate” ones I got at Farm-Way, a local purveyor that is just what it sounds like, have special stitching on the fingertips so you can use an iPhone or iPad without removing your gloves.  Totally cool.

Outerwear?  Get down.  I don’t mean like “get funky.”  I mean, if you want to be warm, get down.  Not all down is alike, mind you.  If you look on the inside label you’ll see the percentage of down and the percentage of feathers.  More down means more warmth, so look for something like 80% down and 20% feathers.  I recommend a jacket that covers your fanny.  It’ll be warmer and it’ll look chic with a pair of skinny pants and boots.  You don’t have to spend a fortune but if you find a jacket you like and you see little feathers coming through the outer fabric, as Tanta Julia would say, fuhgget it.

Keep your feet warm with some Gortex or other weatherproof boots.  For stylish bootwear I really like Stuart Weitzman.  An investment, no question, but I’ve worn the same ones for nine years and they still look great, are warm and waterproof, so if you amortize the cost over that many years, they’re a bargain.  Aquatalia, same deal.  I store them in the off season stuffed with paper in an old pillowcase.  They are well worth the money to keep those feet cozy while looking cool.  And let’s face it; you can’t be chic if your teeth are chattering.

Don’t want to wear a hat?  I know just what you mean.  Five minutes in a hat and there’s so much static I could start a blender just by rubbing my head.  Get a pair of earmuffs.  Eastern Mountain Sports (EMS) makes some great ones that go “behind the head” so there’s none of that nasty hat hair.  Mine are actually the Men’s version.  Makes no difference as the size is adjustable.   A nice colorful scarf (the rest of my outfit is black of course), a pair of shades and you are ready to brave the elements.

Lookin’ cool!







January 9, 2014 · 8:44 am

Size Matters

I know you think I’ve dropped off the face of blogdom.  But I’ve merely been temporarily lost in the crush of pre-holiday shopping.  Now that Thanksgiving has become a retail day and every store is offering the deep discounts one used to see only AFTER December twenty-fifth, it’s a jungle out there.  I just returned from a couple of days in Manhattan and the stores and streets were so crowded you could pass out and not fall down.

Not that I need any clothes mind you, but it’s always fun to look and I have a particular pair of pants (black, of course) that I like and I thought I would pick up a second pair.  Since I know the size of the ones I already own you’d think it would be easy, but when shopping for a garment, any garment, one cannot assume the size you own is the size you’ll wear.  And this has nothing to do with holiday eating, (pass me those Christmas cookies).  It’s because the matter of size is simply that it doesn’t matter.  Not anymore anyway.

I remember my mother wore a size 10.  But she was a little woman and when I try on her cocktail dresses from the fifties and sixties, I can barely zip them up, and I’m a size 0 or 2!  Don’t take my word for it.  Check out any vintage store.  You’ll rarely see a 2 or a 4 in anything prior to 1970 unless it’s in the kiddie section and then the next size up will be 6X.  As our population has gotten larger, the sizes have gotten smaller.  Or larger, depending on how you look at it.  I can remember when a 2 didn’t even exist.  Maybe I’d wear a 3 from the Junior department, but a 2 in Misses?  Forget it.  Now there’s 0 and 00.  Why?   Because people are bigger and what used to be a 14 would now have to be a 32, and who is going to want to shop for a 32, particularly higher end shoppers who are paying a lot of money?  Retailers, and particularly designers, know this, so over the years they’ve gradually vanity-sized down their garments so that what once was a 12 is now a 4.  Besides, a single digit looks stylish on the label.  You think I’m making this up?  I haven’t even put the bourbon in my eggnog.

Here’s something I learned in the business when I was buying for a chain of stores.  Let’s say a certain retailer places an order with a vendor for a dress.  They might order one 2, four 6’s, four 8’s, 2 10’s, and so on, depending on the average size of their clientele.  But if the vendor doesn’t happen to have four 6’s on hand and wants to get the order out on time (there can be a penalty for shipping late) they’ll switch the label in say, a 10, and ship it as a 6.  Haven’t you ever looked through a sales rack and said, Holy cow, that dress says size 4 but it’s big enough to fit my Aunt Edna.  Wassup?  It’s gotten marked down because every time a size 4 comes along and tries it on, she looks like a circus tent with sleeves.

Same with items that are a set, like a swim suit or a jacket and pants.  That’s what happened to my friend, Teri, when she ordered a pair of pajamas on line.  The top was tiny and the bottom could have fit us both.  At the same time.

Which is why you can score some good bargains at the sales rack simply by holding the garment up and eyeballing the size, regardless of what the label says.  Take the time to try it on and if it doesn’t fit, try not to get hung up on the size printed on the label.  Because ultimately size doesn’t matter.




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Less Strapless

Part of my Sunday ritual is to sit at the breakfast table and read our local paper.  This, before I start in on my all day ritual reading of the New York Times.  But for a quick perusal through our community news I generally start with the most important section, the wedding announcements, and I’m invariably astounded by the bridal gown choices.  I don’t mean to say that on that all important day every woman shouldn’t have her dream dress, her idea of glamour and grace.  But really, isn’t anyone advising here?  I KNOW that strapless is very popular these days, but this is not a look that everyone can wear.  Seriously.  While all things fifties and sixties have become enormously popular, the population that wore such outfits looked quite different than the betrothed of today.  And don’t even get me started on the brides over fifty.  Ladies, that strapless ship has sailed.

First off, while women back in the day of those Mad Men were often curvier, there was not the, shall we say, prevalence of zaftig-ness that we are seeing now.  Strapless is NOT for everyone.  You know what I’m talking about.  I’ve seen more spillage on the social page than from the Exxon Valdez.  And secondly, back then women wore undergarments, a word currently in such disuse as to be practically Shakespearean.  The strap is your friend.  Embraceth the strap.

Now I’m not talking about those skinny loops that are hanging on the inside of your dress’s armpits.  Those are not straps.  I say this because I have actually seen someone who is usually very well dressed, wear these over her shoulders.  Those silly strings that look like very skinny ribbons are for hanging up your frock.  But you are going to cut them off before the first wearing because, M’Lord knows, you do not want one of them poking out the minute you start the Hokey Pokey.  And you won’t need them anyway because after you wear your dress and have it dry cleaned, you’re going to store it in a box (if it’s a wedding gown) or hang it on a skirt hanger that has those padded clips so that the bodice keeps its shape and doesn’t look like a Shar Pei the next time you put it on.  Get what I mean?

But I digress.  As I said, every bride wants the dress of her dreams and of course she, or he for that matter, should have it.  It’s worth considering though, that if you are publishing a wedding photo in the paper, chances are it will only be from the waist up and you want to look like you’re wearing more than just skin.  Face it, not everyone has the upper body for strapless and this is not tragic.  There are so many beautiful looks, sleeved and sleeveless, that will flatter and allure, not to mention stay up without the benefit of double-sided tape.

Look at Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge.  She channeled Grace Kelly in her beautifully retro-ish, long-sleeved wedding dress.  And if anyone has the stems for strapless, she certainly does.  I’ve no doubt that besides style, comfort figured into her decision.  A wedding can be a LONG event, even without a coach ride and balcony waving from Buckingham Palace.  The last thing any princess needs on her special day is to be worrying about her dress gravitating south.  And really, it’s so unattractive to be hoisting and adjusting every five minutes.  Wouldn’t you rather be dancing?  Or watching the jousting match?

Three-quarter sleeves are a nice choice that flatter most shapes and look elegant.  That said, no matter what the sleeve or lack thereof, the proper undergarment (forsooth) is ESSENTIAL.  A long line backless bra will make everything hang and look better and this goes for any black-tie-attire gown, cocktail dress, what have you.  First off, it creates a seamless line from bosom to waist without any nasty bra-straps or fastening visible across the back and secondly, it preserves the shape and integrity of the bodice fabric, just the way a slip does with your skirt (See “Going Undercover”).  And these bras are not that difficult to find.  The best and cheapest (!) is made by “Carnival” and at $38 it’s a bargain.  It comes in Ivory, White, Nude and Black and it’ll last forever if you wash it in a lingerie bag on the gentle cycle and hang it to dry.  I have every color.  Of course you can pay more for such an item, but why?  And even with the proper bra, not everybody needs to go strapless.  What was that 16th century lady’s name?  Greensleeves?  The chick was on to something.







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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Aaagggghhh!!!  AAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!  My hair stylist just informed me that he’s retiring.  Can you believe it?!  How could he do this to me??!!  It’s not that I begrudge his putting down the scissors and putting up his feet.  It’s not that I think he should work until he keels over.  But does he have to retire now?  Couldn’t he wait until he’s, say, ninety?  You know, just another 30 years or so until whatever hair I have left is a shade of blue and can be done by the same person who is changing my Depends.  Is that too much to ask?  Am I being selfish here?

I do love my hair stylist and Lord knows the guy works really hard.  He deserves to enjoy his golden years relaxing.  But where on earth am I going to find someone to cut my hair?  It’s just not that simple.  Since 1978 and my first “Peter Pan” I’ve worn my hair short and boyish.  Oh, there was a minute there when I got the bob and perm bug, but I quickly came to my senses and went back to the look that suits my face and lack of hair styling expertise.  I don’t even own a comb.  So the cut, a good cut, is ESSENTIAL.  And since Brian has cut my hair, the experience is not only stylistically satisfying, the entertainment factor is immense.  The guy is hysterically funny.  Many are the times he’s had to wait for me to sit upright to finish my hair cut, while I, doubled over with laughter, gasped for breath.  And since he owns the shop and only has one other operator, it’s quiet and easy going (except for the sound of my cackling, that is).  When I was preparing for my wedding and felt like my hair wasn’t doing what it should, he cut it again, for free!  He just cares.  He cares.  Did I mention that I drive three hours there and back for this little slice of salon heaven?

The fact is I’ve been really spoiled and now must find another spot to spoil me.  A friend recommended a place very nearby that seems to be where all the hip people are going.  Her hair always looks great so I figured she must be in the know.  I called to speak to her stylist who also happens to be the owner, just to see if there was a rapport there.  To see if she would be someone I’d like to spend an hour with every five weeks.  First a supercilious assistant insisted that I make a fifteen minute consultation appointment.  Said appointment could not be for another month however, as this person is so busy that she can’t squeeze in two minutes to look at my head and say hello.  Okay.  I understand.  See you in six weeks.  Then, when the appointed day arrived I walked into the salon to find myself in the midst of a bee hive, and I don’t mean the hairdo.  There were about twelve operators and they were all yakking away over the drone of high powered hairdryers and the bass line of piped in techno music until I thought my head would pop off.  “Are you checking in?” the receptionist says to me.

“I’m checking out.”  This place is definitely not for me.

Now I’ve had my hair done in almost every major city in the country at one time or another, so it’s not like I can’t handle a big, busy salon.  I mean the flip side of my local experience is Elizabeth Arden Red Door in Washington, DC, where you feel as if you need to take your shoes off and then curtsey when the intern to the assistant to the hair washer comes to fetch you for your audience with the stylist.  But honestly, unless they’re wearing little green and white checked pinafores and singing “Ha, ha, ha, ho, ho, ho, and a couple of tra-la-las.  That’s how we laugh the day away in the merry old Land of Oz…” I prefer to not feel like I’m on the conveyor belt of a grooming assembly line.  A little personal service is all I’m asking.  Look at my head.  Look at my face.  Talk to me for a minute to know my personality and what I expect.  In other words, GIVE ME A LOOK.  Is that too much to ask?

In the meantime I will continue to walk up to well coiffed strangers and say “Who cuts your hair?”



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In Formal


JZ and I attended a gala a couple of weeks back for one of Boston’s cultural institutions.  Because it was a museum, along with the usual black tie dinner and dancing deal, there was an “open” party for the public where, for thirty bucks and a cash bar, anyone could come and enjoy music and dancing and lovely passed-around desserts, all while strolling through the exhibits in the evening hours.  It was a wonderful event but I must say the most intriguing displays were the outfits.  You cannot believe what passes for formal wear these days.  Or maybe you can.  Anyone who has watched the Academy Awards or, heaven help us, the Grammys, knows that men’s formal wear has become decidedly, well… informal.  Some of the things I saw at the event I attended: wrinkled shirts, no cummerbund or suspenders, brown shoes, buttons instead of studs, bad ties, NO ties.  Okay, okay, this is not the end of sartorial civilization, but there is a reason these events are called FORMAL.

I think a lot of the fashion infractions are committed simply because a lot of young men in particular, don’t know any better.  Dressing up is so rare these days that there are few occasions for a guy to learn what’s stylish and what’s stupid.  It used to be that a man’s first formal outing was the prom.  He’d go downtown with Dad to rent a tuxedo where the owner/tailor would ask about the event and explain all the necessary components.  Not anymore.  Now some part-time, pimply guy, in a tee shirt no less, offers you an outfit right out of Costumes-R-Us, the more outlandish the better so as to one-up the classmates, and hands it off like the basketball in the final seconds of a playoff.  I’ve even seen this with my own eyes at a wedding fitting.  You can bet THIS mother of the groom was saying, “Hold on just a minute.  You can’t be serious!”

So what should I look for, Mom?  First off, if you can possibly afford it, buy a tuxedo.  Even if it’s worn once a year, or even once every five years, you’ll look so much better in your own clothes.  And really, you can find one for not that much do-re-mi considering you’ll only need one.  Pick a classic look and it’ll last for a LONG time.  But if to rent is your bent go for something traditional.  The best dressed man at the Oscars is always George Clooney.  Why?  Because he wears a simple black, shawl or slightly notched collar tuxedo, white shirt and bow tie.  If you’re very trim pleated pants and a double breasted jacket are fine, but unless you plan to star in a Noel Coward play, opt for flat front trousers and a three button, single breasted jacket (only the top two are buttoned).  Pants, which should be worn at the WAIST, should graze the top of the shoe with a slight break in the leg.

Of course you need the accessories!  Choose an all-cotton shirt that will be professionally laundered with light starch.  A pleated front is nice with what they call a “laydown” collar and don’t forget the collar stays!  (Ask the dry cleaner).  Few people can pull off the wing collar and tie so leave that for your local orchestra member.  A proper formal shirt has French cuffs and little notches for studs, so pick up a set.  You can find classy looking ones at any of the department stores and many of the discount outlets like Century 21 and Loehmann’s.  The cummerbund covers the button at the bottom of the shirt.  And by the way, cummerbund pleats are worn facing up, not down, (that was so you could stick your theatre tickets in them!) and it should be snug around your middle.  Go for a black or small patterned tie and if you can tie it yourself, even better.  It’s really not that hard.  Skip the patterned cummerbund and stick with black.  It’s more flattering in the belly area.  If you are buying a tuxedo, don’t bother with vests, pocket squares, long ties, patterned jackets or colored (especially black) shirts.  They go in and out of fashion and never look as stylish as the sales help want you to believe.

Lastly are the shoes.  Traditionally black patent pumps (plain slip-ons with a bow) were worn but let’s get real here.  A simple pair of black patent or polished leather will look great.  Leather soles please.  The better to spin you round the dance floor, my dear.  Don’t forget a white handkerchief and NOT in the pocket of the jacket.  Keep it in your pants pocket for when your date starts weeping at how great you look.

And see you on the dance floor, Handsome!


Tuxedo:  http://www1.macys.com/shop/product/tommy-hilfiger-suit-separate-tuxedo-shawl-collar-trim-fit?ID=580327&CategoryID=17788#fn=SUIT_STYLE%3DTuxedo%26sp%3D1%26spc%3D15%26ruleId%3D78%26slotId%3D5

Shirts:  http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/john-w-nordstrom-classic-fit-tuxedo-shirt/3179673?cm_cat=datafeed&cm_ite=john_w._nordstrom(r)_classic_fit_tuxedo_shirt:360050&cm_pla=tops:men:dress-shirt&cm_ven=Google_Product_Ads&mr:referralID=86ff9e11-3fdb-11e3-a8bc-001b2166c62d


Shoes:  http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/florsheim-jet-plain-toe-oxford/3566467?origin=category-personalizedsort&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=&resultback=1545&cm_sp=personalizedsort-_-browseresults-_-1_5_A


Studs:  http://www.cuff-daddy.com/tuxedo-cufflinks-studs-onyx-silver-tone.html?gclid=COKz0snnuboCFVOf4Aodb1EAOQ



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These Ghoulish Things Remind Me Of You

Hey, it’s almost Halloween!  As a child I couldn’t wait for that day.  The thought of marching to school and then door to door through crackly leaves in a fabulous costume that my mother always spent hours creating, filled me with a kind of anticipatory glee rarely experienced in adult life.  In 1963, when Dunkin’ Donuts opened its 100th restaurant and their popularity surged, my mother dressed me as one of their trademark pastries, complete with a “steaming” cup of coffee for a hat!  Suffice it to say, Halloween was big in our house.  The words “wear a coat over your costume” were never thought, let alone uttered.

Now, as soon as I see those fake cobwebs in the store windows (why DO they do that??) a feeling of dread comes over me.  Is it because I’ll be answering my front door forty times in one evening?  Is it that I’ll lie awake wondering if I’ll be drinking my morning coffee picking wet toilet paper off the shrubbery?  No.  It’s because when I look in the mirror on November first I don’t want to see a witch!

All of a sudden, or so it seems, come the end of fall, my skin seems to dry out like an old sponge.  I don’t remember seeing those wrinkles in the summertime?  And what’s with the flakiness?  Ugghh.  It’s because, where I live, once the heat comes on and the last bit of summer humidity is gone, it’s time to haul out the big time moisturizer.  Don’t get me wrong.  I use moisturizer all year round, but once I’ve eaten that last candied apple it’s time for serious intervention.

There’s a HUGE selection of skin creams out there.  The choice is mind boggling.  People swear by La Mer but those are people with a lot of disposable income.   Somehow I can’t bring myself to spend $155 for one ounce when there are so many other reasonably priced alternatives.  And I’ve found that, just like clothing in colder weather, layering produces the best results.  Here’s what I do:  Every morning (and evening too) I wash my face with Cetaphil Gentle Skin Cleanser.  It’s fragrance free, gentle on sensitive skin and at five and a half bucks a bottle, it’s a bargain.  Forget about toner.  Leave the toner in your copying machine.  Your face doesn’t need it.  All it does is dry out what you’re trying to water.

Next I use some Jergen’s Natural Glow for Face because 1) daily use will give a little color to my otherwise ghostly skin, 2) it’s oil free and, most important, 3) it’s SPF 20.  Whatever moisturizer you choose should have an SPF of at least 15, and 20 is even better.  It may be winter but it’s the same sun up in that sky.  After the Jergen’s I use Clinique Repairwear Uplifting, but here’s a trick; first I wet my fingertips and then use a little dab mixed with the water on my hands.  I forget who gave me this tip but not only does the cream go further but it puts more hydration in the face.  I love this stuff.  Lastly, I use a tinted moisturizer for foundation.  I used to use a regular liquid foundation, but really, who needs it?  Tinted Moisturizer is lighter, looks better and it’s moisturizer!  I love the one by Laura Mercier in Nude.  If you don’t want to spend $40 (it does last a long time), Neutrogena’s Healthy Skin Enhancer is excellent and about $12 at any CVS.  Either one of them is SPF 20.

At night when things can get really spooky, I have a different routine entirely.  I start with a Retinol treatment like StriVectin-AR or Neutrogena Ageless Intensives Deep Wrinkle Moisturizer “Night.”  A little dab’ll do ya so go easy with this stuff.  Then I swear by the Ahava products.  Their Night Replenisher is just the best and I use it undiluted.  It’s a treat for the face.  But that’s not all.

Back when I was a cheerleader (okay, WAY back), my coach, Mrs. Van Dyke, told us that we should start using eye cream every morning and every night.  “Eye cream, girls.  Eye cream!” she’d shout to us after practice.  That was when I was a freshman in high school and I’ve never strayed and really, I must say, I think it’s paid off.  But even if you’re starting your skin care late in the game, eye cream girls!  Eye cream!  I like to use the thickest, most water-retaining goop I can find and it’s Vaseline.  Yup.  Vaseline Original Skin Protectant is my eye cream, and while I’m dabbing it under my eyes I rub a little on the lines around my lips as well.  And I NEVER go to bed with my make up on.

So treat yourself.  And Happy Halloween, Pumpkin!







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Ol’ Four Eyes

Mia Farrow was in the news recently.  Seems in the November issue of Vanity Fair magazine she discloses that her son Ronan (once called Satchel) MAY be the child of Frank Sinatra and not Woody Allen as long presumed.  Huh?  Have you seen a picture of this guy?  He is the spit n’ image of Ol’ Blue Eyes and apparently he’s got a voice to go with.  There have been all kinds of denials and refutations from Allen and others.  But just take a look at him.  On the other hand, he’s a Yale grad and a Rhodes Scholar, so go figure.

Anyway, Ol’ Blues got me thinking about Ol’ Four Eyes which would be me, and practically everyone in my family.  (I know it’s a stretch of a segue but just go with me here.)  My father was an ophthalmologist and I often wondered if we were a reality advertisement for eye correction.  I might add that I was in high school before I was allowed to use pointed scissors. When I was initiated with my first prescription, shortly after my Bat Mitzvah, I was horrified to think I would have to wear glasses. GLASSES??  ON MY FACE??  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  At the time, the wire-rimmed aviators were popular so I had a pair of those.  Then I switched to contact lenses.  But as I got older I decided to embrace my myopia and now eyewear is a part of my whole look.

Now anyone who has had to buy a frame and fill it can tell you that glasses are not cheap.  At least, unless they’re cheap they’re not cheap.  But considering they sit on your nose I think it’s a worthwhile investment to get something great.  It’s funny but people who will spend hundreds on a hairdo or garment or other fashion item, get stingy when it comes to something they’ll be wearing every single day.  I’ve heard people say “I don’t want them to show.”  What?  Is there a way for them not to show?  Underwear doesn’t show. Glasses are in the front row seat, so why not make the most of them.

Here’s the thing, not all opticians are the same, and like any other retail business, they don’t all carry the same merchandise.   I look for a store that has a hip selection in the window and has someone who knows how to suggest the right shapes for my face.  A good eyewear place shouldn’t just let you pull stuff off the wall and try them on, hit or miss.  Don’t get me wrong, they should show you any frame you’re interested in. But they should have the expertise to guide you to the shapes and colors and sizes that will flatter your face. It’s like what dress buying use to be fifty years ago. A knowledgeable optician will save you time and frustration, and hopefully, looking like a weirdo.

One of my favorite brands is Anne et Valentin. They’re made in France and although somewhat pricey, their whole line is fabulously cool looking and really holds up to wear and tear.  When I was in Paris on my honeymoon all I wanted to do was see the Anne et Valentin flagship store, for me, the holy grail of eyewear. Interestingly, when I inquired about one particular frame, the lovely salesman, Phillipe, said, “Those are too big for you.”  Actually, it was “Zohs ahr too beeg fo yu.”  He was right. I bought another pair that he suggested instead.  I know there are many online eyeglass vendors out there, but buyer beware.  Poor quality plastic and weak hinges can mean broken glasses just when you need them the most (getting in the car to drive home from the airport?).   I also like to have someone local make the lenses. Did you know that you can purchase frames anywhere and take them to your local optician and they’ll fill the prescription, i.e. make the lenses for you. I did this with my Paris purchase.  And many places will regrind the lenses one time for free if you put on your new specs and it feels like you just got off a merry-go-round.

A reputable optician will also make sure your glasses fit properly, which is why I never let anyone try mine on. They’re made for my head.  To me it’s like asking someone to try on her wig.  But that’s just me. And if you take good care of them, glasses should last easily until your next prescription. You ARE getting your eyes examined every two years, right?  You only have one set of eyes.

And no running with those scissors!





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Goody! Two Shoes

Now that September is over it’s time to put away the sandals (you with the Tevas, I’m hoping to see a burn pile in your backyard) and think about fall shoes.  I store my cold-weather footwear in plastic boxes in the attic.  But even after inspecting what I have, and I must say, a lot of it looks pretty good, there’s always room and a fashion need, for some new shoes.  If, like me, you live far from any decent shoe retailer, there are LOADS of options on line that provide free shipping and free returns.  I have a regular relationship with Zappos, but there are others as well, including the shoemakers themselves like Cole Haan and Stuart Weitzman, two of my faves. 

Now I’m certainly all about savvy shopping and finding the bargains, but there is one area I never compromise.  It’s the feet.  The agony of de feet.  If a sweater or a tee shirt or a dress has some little flaw, it scarcely makes a difference, and that’s if I can even discover what it is.  But a shoe that isn’t right can make me miserable.  All it takes is one little scratchy thing digging into my foot to make my day hellish.  So I may save big on an outfit, but I never scrimp on the shoes.  Good shoes last longer, generally look better and, most importantly, are way more comfortable.  Way more.

Many years ago when I was in retail, I shared an office with the shoe buyer.  This was an eye opener and a fantastic education in what makes a good shoe.  I learned that price isn’t the only barometer.  There are basically three things I look for. 

The inside lining is called the sock by those in the biz, and I always make sure it’s leather.  Sometimes it looks like leather but it’s actually pleather.  Ballet flats from J. Crew that they say are made in Italy?  The sock is pleather.  Look carefully and smell it if you have to.  I know, holding a shoe up to your nose in a store is a little weird, but quality control is a dirty business.  Leather on the inside breathes and molds to your foot.  Would you rather wear leather or rubber gloves?  Same concept.

Next is the sole.  A better shoe has a leather, not plastic, sole.  If you turn the shoe over and it says “Man Made,” drop it.  The difference is in the walking.  Just like with the inside, leather gives and molds to your foot and it will feel better than plastic.  It just will.  They’ll also be safer on the pavement.  Michael Kors charges a lot for his shoes, but the ones I’ve seen have “man made” soles.  A rubber sole is a whole different matter.  Nothing wrong with a rubber sole.  Love ‘em.  What I’m talking about is that beige, slippery business that, when you walk, sounds like a spatula clapping on a marble floor.

Finally, I look for the quarter panels (that’s the side of the shoe that runs from the heel to the toe) to be one piece.  No seam in the middle.  I paid a lot of money for a pair of Brian Atwood high heels and I was astonished to see a big ol’ seam on the inside quarter panel.  I returned them.  Even some Jimmy Choos have it.  Look carefully at the side of the shoe that faces in.  It should be one piece.  I have gotten really good shoes that have a seam.  Aquatalia, a brand I swear by, occasionally does this.  But generally no seam equals a better shoe.  And if there is a seam it should be sewn, not glued.  Check it out. 


Fortunately sites like Zappos, Shoebuy.com, Piperlime and many others give descriptions of these components.  I look for terms like “leather upper,” “leather lining,” and “padded footbed.”  And I watch the video if there is one.  That can show you a lot about a shoe.

Oh…Wait a minute.  Someone’s at the door…  It’s the UPS guy!  Gotta run.  My shoes are here!  Goody!!!







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