Well, 2008, it was fun...there were changes made (both large and small) and, on a whole, the results were more positive than negative...but, all good things must end...and it's time to say goodbye...and hello to...

Now I admit that, in the past, I've been less than enthusiastic when it comes to New Year's resolutions...I dislike the feeling that I'm setting myself up for failure somewhere around the beginning of February (weak willed, moi?)...but this year there are a couple of fashion-related items that I'd like to try and focus on.

1. Spend more time pre-purchase considering whether I need...or how badly I want...an item. Towards the end of '08 I was definitely getting better with this and I don't want to backslide when the new year rolls around. (Note, I said "getting better"...I'd say that I'd achieved a ratio of 70/30 of the considered vs the impulse...if I could get that to 90/10 I think my closet, sanity, and bank account would be thankful).
2. Get rid of items that I am never going to wear (eBay, etsy, or eeeeee! splat! as it hits the trash). This has been a constant entry on my "to do" list for a while now...I'd like to say that for every item coming in, one is going out...I'd like to, but I can't. So, something to work on...plus, I know that Mr. Heb would enjoy some of the closet space that would magically appear if I was able to rid myself of some of the flotsam and jetsam that a history of mass consumerism leaves in its wake.
3. Pay a little more attention to what's going into my body. Though definitely prompted by PCGS (Post Christmas Guilt Syndrome)...the Cadbury's choccie assortment...the glass (or 4) of wine...the almost remarkable absence of anything even vaguely healthy...I do feel the need to take a little better care of myself. Not a diet...I like food...and myself...too much for that...more this will be an attempt to put the correct fuel into the vehicle to obtain optimum results.

On a personal note I'd also like to thank everyone who takes time out of their day to visit this blog. I'm always surprised (and delighted) by how many people stop by to read...and comment...please know that it is truly appreciated. May 2009 bring you everything that you wish for...

It's strange how you find yourself changing...I used to love wondering around a good old bricks 'n mortar store but more and more my inner curmudgeon is pushing me towards the...increasingly alluring...online shopping experience.

Case in point, a spur-of-the-moment venture into Barneys yesterday...part of an on-going quest to find some dark denim jeans for Mr. Heb (6'7"...won't shop online unless 100% sure size is correct). Ever wondered what kind of outfit gets you a virtually non-existent level of service at Barneys? Allow me to answer that...

I'm not sure if it was the sheer density of pattern...or the fact that my hair was decidedly un-kempt...or maybe they just didn't like brown...but an expedition to locate some APC jeans for Mr. Heb turned into a self-service experience. In a department with (optimistically) six other people in it, no one said hello. After finding the APC area...the jeans...and the size...we then showed ourselves to the changing rooms...where someone finally appeared and asked Mr. Heb is he wanted to try something on.

Now, while I don't enjoy a constant barrage of "can I help you?" or "that would look so cute on you" (especially in reference to something that I wouldn't be caught dead in)...I do like some assurance that I'm not completely invisible. Oh, wait...I wasn't completely invisible...I did get a very dirty look when I sat on a chair outside the changing rooms. Yes, I know they're the men's changing rooms...and, yes, I know that I am a woman...but only in certain parts of America am I treated like a perverted leper for taking a seat. It could just be that instead of obtaining a thrill from the fact that a strange man is getting changed (behind closed doors) several feet away I am waiting for the man I came into the store with to try on a pair of pants and ask the inevitable "does my bum look big in this?" question.

I'd love to say at this point that we removed ourselves from the store without making a purchase. However, Mr. Heb's jeans quest has been going on for some time now...the APC jeans fitted perfectly...and it would have been a case of "cutting off nose to spite face" not to have bought them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to browse around a few virtual boutiques...

As you may have surmised from my Christmas puzzle, satchels have been on my mind recently. Specifically Proenza Schouler's PS1 bag but, on a broader scale, satchels in general...old school, carry a multitude of belongings, toss over shoulder and go...satchels. Though the PS1's charms were undeniable...smooth suede, gleaming python...so were the cons...ok, I admit the cons were mainly price-related...though I was hoping for slightly more space in "my" satchel.

Then, as I was roaming around Matches sale section, I came across Paris based label Tila March's suede satchel...roomier than the PS1...a little more rugged (so I won't be worried about manhandling it, even though it is made of suede)...and generally evoking the kind of get-up-and-go feeling that I was hoping for (I have a bad case of wanderlust at the moment...I want to throw some things into a bag and hit the road).

"And that" she said, fearing that she would incur the wrath of the Gods, "is the last of my sales purchases for the foreseeable future".

Yesterday's (tongue-in-cheek) post about an excessively expensive handbag got me thinking about life during an economic downturn. What we wear, after all, generally reflects our personal wealth (either "real" or virtual wealth, i.e. thanks to Messrs Mastercard and Visa). Oh, I know that rich people "dress down" or " go boho" but it's really not fooling anyone if you mix Target and Givenchy...this isn't a case of the lowest common denominator...quite the reverse...you're buying the Tar-jay (Old Navy, H&M, Zara) because it works with the overall look, not for economic reasons.

But, what to do during a recession? Purposefully dress down (in an attempt to inspire a feeling of camaraderie) Wear your best (to inspire a general feeling of well-being...the "brave little woman dressing well in the face of adversity") Carry on regardless (also the title of a "Carry On" movie) and wear whatever you would have worn had an economic downturn not taken place The question...given the current financial climate...do you feel guilty wearing your best...or merely "you"? I can say that, personally, I wear what I would usually wear but have vague feelings of disquiet when I consider the cost...

Sunday evening...glass of chilled dry white wine close at hand...some home-popped popcorn (no microwave...just vegetable oil, freshly ground black pepper, and a little salt) also in the vicinity...is the perfect time for a little "let's pretend I'm insanely rich" window shopping.

Tonight's item of lust...Lucien Pellat-Finet's crocodile clutch with appliquéd skull. I'm not going to mention the price...I am, after all, a pretend millionaire, made wealthy thanks to numerous Monopoly victories...suffice to say, if you're curious take a deep breath before clicking on the link.

I have to say though, the clutch (over-looking the price) is perfection...in a kind of stealth wealth...ironic luxe...rich punk way...also over-looking the fact that a clutch is the easiest kind of bag for purse snatchers to snatch, though what is more rich punk than fighting a bag thief for your crocodile handbag?

I really shouldn't like this over-sized floral blouse from See by Chloe...it's frighteningly close to the floral wallpaper which covered our home and caused many a childhood nightmare...yet I can't help myself. I keep having visions of myself wandering through a meadow...wearing wide-legged pants...the floral blouse...blowing the seeds off a dandelion head...and acting like the Timotei girl (though without the obsessive compulsive hair washing and constant thrashing around of my head...oh, we all admired her hair, but I bet she had whiplash after 5 minutes).

I should start by saying that it is a rare day when a blogging-related freebie hits the Hebden household...which is partly due to the offers I get (not only do I never wear sweatpants but the thought of sweatpants with slogans or cartoon characters on their posterior makes me break out in a cold sweat...as this is the case the offer of free sweatpants, featuring the aforementioned ass-slogan, are not going to tempt me)...and partly due to the fact that I want my posts to be honest (if I say I like something it's because, surprise, I actually like it). Having said that, I recently accepted the offer of a gift card to check out Marshall's Cube...a new-ish section of the store that features, to quote their site, "the styles and brands you luv at prices the malls can't touch - together at last in one super-hot boutique".

So, armed with my gift card, I dragged Mr. Heb off to the largest Marshall's in our area and...couldn't find a thing. Actually, once inside the store we couldn't find the Cube itself...which is bad as Mr. Heb is over 6'7" and can usually be counted on to spot anything. However, we persevered and finally spotted a large "U" on top of a display stand...once we'd shuffled a few feet over we noticed a "C" and "B" mounted on similar stands...our powers of deduction being almost Holmesian, we concluded that the "E" must have been loitering around somewhere in the vicinity. We had arrived...only to be faced by a sea of teen clothing or, as Mr. Heb put it, "they do know you're out of high school, right?"...we retired defeated.

Working under the maxim "if at first you don't succeed...", I decided to try a slightly smaller store. And, with the perverse timing that I am known for, selected Christmas Eve as a good time to try the experiment. Every other store I had gone into that afternoon had been silent as the grave so I thought, why not? Allow me to tell you...it turns out every other store was quiet because everyone was buying last-minute gifts at Marshalls. But I don't scare easily...plus, I knew how to find the Cube area this time. I reconnoitered the racks...found more teen clothing...dug around a bit more...and came across a blue and grey striped top which had potential to morph into (my version of) the Rachel Comey top I mentioned a few days ago. More searching, in Marshall's regular racks this time, yielded a man's plaid shirt...way too large but just the colors that I've been looking for...a lot of work without a sewing machine but I think I can hack away at it to create a shrunken version.

All of which leads to the inevitable question, "will I be going back?" If I were a teen, definitely...as this isn't the case, possibly, as the store has the potential for "finds"...and DIY supplies...oh, and Jelly Bellys near the cash register.

Not the happiest post for Boxing Day...or "the day after Christmas" for non-Brits...but when my Yahoo page notified me that Eartha Kitt had died (FYI Yahoo folks, this is a piece of news that should not have been placed next to "How to make Twinkies at home")...I had to post something.

Sadly not the best rendition of "I want to be evil"...my favorite Kitt song...instead, a version made slightly creepy by hair bows, a stuffed tiger, and severely limited camera angles (which I suppose makes it an average day here in Hebdenville).

And to close? A few more words to live by from Ms. Kitt..."I am learning all the time. The tombstone will be my diploma."

Two things that mean Christmas (to me, at least)...tradition; a sense of continuity...and games; once the gifts have been opened (if you're having gifts) nothing beats a nice, ruthless games of Monopoly. "Good will to all men" just isn't as fun as building a hotel on every location and becoming a gazillionaire while your nearest and dearest come up with strange bargain pleas to pay the exorbitant rent that you're demanding..."look, I'll give you $500 of Monopoly money...a back rub...and I'll wash the dishes for a week".

Last year, to fulfill my passion for puzzles I created a fashuku (aka fashion Soduku) game. This year's festive frolic is a jigsaw puzzle featuring Proenza Schouler's PS1 bags...which inspire a deep lust in me in either black python or pale suede. However, as the python is too expensive...and the suede too pale for everyday use...I will stick with my puzzle for the time being.


To play, click on the image to open it full-size...print it...cut it out (preferably before you have too much eggnog)...and then re-assemble.

Another day, another undesirable Christmas gift...this time seasonally (in)appropriate knitwear, aka the ugly Christmas sweater. Anthropologists have yet to agree on when the u.c.s. first made its appearance but it's now, sadly, a festive staple...causing puzzlement and dismay to anyone who receives one...and prompting the eternal question, "why me?".

The obvious option upon receiving an u.c.s. is to immediately re-gift it to whoever offended you most during the previous year...all I can say is, if someone hurt you that badly, fire away...hit them with angora tinsel and woolen snowmen from twenty paces. If, however, you're a compassionate soul who doesn't want to make others suffer might I suggest the following alternatives...

1. Turn the knitted nightmare into a tree skirt or festive bucket cover for your Christmas tree...what didn't work on you may look great on a 6' spruce.
   
2. Unpick the sweater at the seams, throw away the sleeves, and use the elements of the sweater's body to make a tea cosy (after all, the u.c.s. was designed to keep something warm...if it's not you it might as well be your teapot).

One of the things that I enjoy most about the blogosphere is the exchange of ideas...the way that you can watch things sweep, like a wave, across the virtual sea...changing and morphing as they go. How one person's words can get you thinking...

When I read The Search For Chic's post about her new suede trousers...well, new for her...beautifully tailored from an existing pair she bought on eBay...it caused me to, once again, try to decide what should be done with a pair of trousers that I inherited from my mother and which are currently hanging in my closet, taking up space but contributing very little. Actually "trousers" is a misnomer...these are gauchos...whose legs consist of so much fabric that they look like a skirt from virtually every angle. This excess of fabric...and their slightly dowdy mid-calf length...means that they're not the most flattering trousers on the planet. They are, however, made of the most butter-y soft suede that I have ever encountered...which almost begs to be re-worked into a pair of (flattering) pants...or a skirt...or potentially both thanks to the sheer volume of fabric available.

What has caused me to veer away from this course of action thus far is that these particular gauchos were designed by Nigel Preston for his label Maxfield Parrish...though his name is not particularly well know he was the designer in his field (sheepskin, suede and leather) for 30 years. To quote his obituary in The Independent (Preston died earlier this year), "where Preston led, Hermès and Gucci followed...it was Preston who first rescued leather from its slick and tough biker-boy, rock'n'roll image, moulding it to the ebb and flow of the body as if it were silk..."

Hence my dilemma...do I take my chances and find a tailor...attempt to work the gauchos into my existing wardrobe...put them on eBay? So many options and me, a dithering mass of indecision...

We all receive gifts that are...well...thoughtful...yet not something that we actually want. Elderly relatives, business acquaintances, and various other people that we either see rarely or who know very little about our tastes...all have the potential to give you something that upholds the dogma "'tis better to give than to receive".

Hence a few festive Public Service Announcement...otherwise known as "alternate uses for unwanted gifts". First up, bath salts. A great gift if you happen to like the scent, otherwise dead wood in your re-gifting closet. PSA says, "why not use them to de-ice your walkway?" Not only will you be the only person on your block with a tie-dyed patch of ice and snow outside your front door but any visitors to your abode will be wafted in on a cloud of scent. Stay tuned for more PSAs during the coming week...

I'm attempting to pay more attention to detail...as I recognize the tendency within myself to veer towards the blazingly obvious rather than the elusively subtle. Hence my interest in the Simone Shailes sweater (which, from a distance could just be another navy turtleneck) and the Pamela Love cuff (the detail work on which gives me a tactile thrill whenever I wear it).

In this restrained (yet admittedly lush) vein I find myself drawn towards the shoulders on Rachel Comey's detached-sleeve tees. I'm not a fan of upper arms...not that mine are particularly abhorrent, I just burn so easily that during the warmer months I prefer more coverage versus less...but a flash of shoulder...a hint of skin...is different...subtle, and an upgrade from "yet another tee".

And, I believe, a good candidate for a "DIY homage to..." version; once I locate the right tee to dismember.

I admit the link is tenuous...yet another of the Anderson's supermarionation classics and a cartilaginous marine fish (thank you Wikipedia)...but having recently come across two very desirable accessories made from stingray (the fish, not dismembered doll parts) I felt some kind of fanfare was in order...and what better than a rousing chorus of "Stingray! Stingray!"?

Both the cuffs and the bag are by Made Her Think...a New York based jeweler that I mentioned previously when I snagged her golden winged bolo necklace...and exude the whole ladylike punk aesthetic that I am so fond of. Sadly the bag is out of my price range (for the moment, at least)...a cuff, on the other hand, is a definite possibility...

As I mentioned before, we here in the Hebden household aren't doing gifts this Christmas...which makes the season remarkably carefree...no stress over finding the "perfect" gift...but does seem to be having a strange side-effect...in that I find myself searching websites to find the most bizarre gifts available. You'd think I'd be transfixed by the beauty of the season...instead I'm on a virtual scavenger hunt for things that I'd hate to actually receive but, as an observer, am drawn to like roadkill on the highway.

A perfect example...this colored toilet paper from The Conran Store...in "vibrant red or orange" and "chic black"...their phrasing, not mine (of all the words I could think of to describe black t.p. 'chic' would not be one of them). Though it's definitely...um...useful...I can't imagine either giving this as a gift...or receiving it...I mean, what do you say when someone gives you toilet paper for Christmas?

It's incredibly difficult (for me, at least) to shop for t-shirts...aka "summer staples"...when there's the potential for a foot of snow in the next twenty-four hours...but as soon as I saw this RIP YSL shirt I knew I had to pick it up while I had the chance...or risk it being one of those times where, as soon as the appropriate season rolls around, all of the interesting seasonally-appropriate clothing which was loitering on my wish list is suddenly unavailable. I'll admit, it's in questionable taste...but sometimes there's a collision between bad taste and good and instead of the result being the predictable train wreck you get something that, for whatever reason, is really rather appealing. And, to me, this shirt falls under that category...the tackiness is restrained...refined...yet 100% in evidence...the best of both worlds.

Considering that the compilers of gift lists have long loved "the man who has everything" and his companion "the woman who has everything" it seems fitting that they have procreated to create "the child who has everything". Granted "the child" is going to be a blasé little bugger who's going to pass out from ennui before they hit puberty but, in the meantime, Barneys has them covered for Christmas.

My favorite item from Barneys gift options...something that works for every member of the "has everything" family...a 14k gold plated Slinky. One of those items which, even though you can take a step back and admit is over-priced and completely unnecessary, would nonetheless be lovely to find in your Christmas stocking...lovely and (say it with me) sliiiiiinky.

It's bitterly cold...with the appropriate amount of snow for the run up to Christmas...which means it's perfect weather for sitting inside watching the snow fall outside...and for watching vintage television treats that are so bad they've boomeranged back into the good category.

Shows like...Space 1999...a British sci-fi show from the 70's produced by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson (who were better known for their series' featuring puppets...Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlet, and others of that ilk)...starring Martin Landau and Barbara Bain (whose acting in Space managed to be more wooden than any puppet ever was)...and featuring "moon city uniforms" by Rudi Gernreich (inventor of the first topless swimsuit, the first designer to use vinyl and plastic in clothes, and guest star on the original Batman).

Unfortunately, for vintage clothing fans, the inhabitants of moon city wear outfits that are so asexual and unappealing...we're talking a lot of taupe, belts which give even the most slender cast member a paunch, and flares...that it's easy to forget that Gernreich designed pieces that are still immensely desirable today...like this stripe/dot dress with matching socks that I just came across on Vagabond NYC's site. It's sweet, enduringly modern, cozy...and $1,248...which means I'll be sticking with over-acting in space.

She knows Of those Who do not care For paws And claws And feline hair. For kicks She licks The very one Who tries

To rise And deftly shun The purr, The fur, The whiskered face Of that Darn cat Who seeks a place To nap: That lap

She likes the best Is there - Right square Upon the guest Who blows His nose And starts to sneeze... The one Undone By allergies!

Mr. Heb has an unfortunate allergy to pet dander...so no cats or dogs in the Hebden household (he also has an even more unfortunate allergy to flower pollen...so no bunches of flowers for yours truly...not that I'm bitter, oh dear me, no...after all, nothing is more romantic than a leafy shrub or prickly cactus). An allergy-free solution for the festive season...unless a bout of xmasdecoritis hits...are these cat and dog baubles...which manage to avoid the cloyingly cutesie and are, instead, an adorably freaky addition to any Christmas tree.