Mourning the Conscious Uncoupling

Celebrity breakups affect me more than they do average person. I remember where I was when I found out that Brad and Jen were splitting up, and I have the image of Brad in his 'TRASH' shirt on the beach of Anguilla stuck in my head as if I were there with them, third-wheeling their breakup vacay. Heidi and Seal was an unexpected celebrity divorce that sent me for a whirl, but you know, I was ambivalent towards the Reese Witherspoon-Ryan Phillipe fallout. I've cried over Justin Timberlake's breakups even though I always knew he and Jessica Biel would get back together. There are two celebrity couples on whom I've spent considerable brain time fearing their demise as a romantic duo: Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, and Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner.

So you can imagine how I felt yesterday evening when I received a text from a friend sharing news of the conscious uncoupling. I shed a few tears, then I checked my email and thought how ironic it was to receive a goop newsletter at such a time. That I was unable to read the note from GP because the site had crashed only added to the catastrophic world-is-over feeling that grappled me as I walked into my apartment furiously texting my friends and trying to re-load goop.com.

I spent my first morning in a world that now lacks the Paltrow-Martin union making a breakup playlist. I'm not sorry that I'm not kidding. The playlist isn't too inventive--it includes the Country Strong soundtrack, Coldplay's greatest/saddest hits, and Gwyneth's rendition of Turning Tables. I read People.com's extensive coverage until I realized that there wasn't much left to report on the matter. And I don't believe any cheating rumors because both are too wholesome for that shiz.

I still can't believe it.

Expect me to jump off a cliff if Ben and Jen ever break up. Also maybe Matthew McConaughey and Camila Alves. They do great things for Brazilian-Texan couples.

Boy Band Turtlenecks

I'm writing this from Montréal, a place so frigidly cold that I've so far avoided taking showers for fear of my wet hair freezing into molded curls. The room I'm in has a current temperature of 23 degrees Celsius, which is about 73 degrees Fahrenheit. I think I'd be better off if this were all in Kelvin. I'm sitting on the floor with one side of my body pressed against the radiator, and the burning sensation on my elbow is surprisingly comforting right now.

My first few hours in Montréal have made me realize the primacy turtlenecks should take in one's winter wardrobe. I used to scoff at all nape-concealing tops because they reminded me of the Lands End ones my mom would layer on my five year old self before dropping me off at ski school (a truly traumatic experience). Between the ages of ten and twenty, I considered turtlenecks to be an overly conservative vestiary option. "I'll reconsider when I'm 50," I'd say when they always found their way back into my closet courtesy of Santa Clause/my mom. But here I am, at the ripe age of 23, watching *NSYNC music videos in Montréal, thinking how badly I could use a turtleneck sweater. 

It's true.

I'm slightly embarrassed at the path I'm about to go down, but I recently rediscovered This I Promise You, and I've watched the music video enough times over the past two days to perform a comparative turtleneck analysis. As coordinated outfits are the leading indicator of boy band-iness, it only makes sense that every member of the fab five (excluding Joey) is wearing a turtleneck sweater, each of which is offensive in its own way. Lance's is hidden under a leather blazer that should take advantage of its highly flammable nature. Both JC's and Chris' are too fitted and ribbed, but Chris' eggplant color is more redeeming than JC's camel shade. As expected, Justin's sweater is the clear winner for its marled and cabled texture and its loose fit in the neck and shoulders. We should've been able to tell that JT would go solo based on his turtleneck taste alone. 

Grey or gray?

Gray is my favorite color to wear. I own a lot of overlapping styles of gray shirts from both the men's and women's departments, which I often pair with gray jeans to create a slick washed-out groufit. As I'm well versed in the matters of gray clothes, I'd argue that the most practical gray item of clothing one should own is the gray sweatshirt. (Enter Fifty Shades of Gray pun somewhere in this paragraph.)

My sister sent me a message on gchat (the communicative tool of the yopro generation) this morning to tell me that she channelled Michael Carrington from Grease 2 yesterday by wearing a new gray sweatshirt. An obscure reference to default to if only because Danny Zucko wears a gray sweatshirt in the masterpiece that is the first production of Grease.

As far as mixing and matching gris goes though, neither Michael Carrington nor Danny Zucko are the ones to source for style inspiration. Rather, we should take a queue from Sarah Jessica Parker, the leading advocate of artificially straightened hair and my second favorite celebrity to track paparazzi pictures of on the interwebz. I've been taking style notes from photos of SJP walking her children around the West Village since James Wilkie started preschool. Her winter parka was my original inspiration for Malakai, and as long she's wearing Uggs in winter, I'm wearing Uggs in the winter.

Image via JustJared

But back to gray. SJP is starring in Amanda Peet's new off-Broadway play, and a picture of her at the premiere reveals her seamless ability to transition a groutfit from day to night. See comparative notes below.

Exhibit A:

Image via Google

SJP mixes and matches various shades of gray while toting a crocodile bag and herself around the environs of what is presumably Lower Manhattan. The heels add a bit of color and height to the pocket-sized lil' lady. Also note that her lip gloss is poppin'.

Exhibit B:

Image via JustJared

Photo ops call for SJP to add jeweled accoutrements and a black booty to her groutfit, and she remains the chicest lady in the room, though Amanda Peet's turtleneck sweater is the bee's knees (and would look great with a beige trouser.) SJP's pant leg brings up a controversial question to be discussed at a later date: what is the right way to cuff one's jeans?

Now Channeling: Jennifer Garner

A couple of nights ago, I went to my closet to suit myself up for what has become one of my somewhat regular post-dinner trips to my neighborhood Tasti-D-Lite. I was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt with RUN DMC sprawled across the front, an article of clothing that has been the subject much ridicule from my friends who know that my iTunes is strictly stocked with stale Top 40 hits. I would've kept my sweatsuit on, but the sweatpants had given me a serious case of dumpy butt and my sweatshirt was stained with toothpaste.

I changed out of my lounge clothes into a horribly unflattering outfit. I had on a pair of loose green chinos that I bought at Zara when I was studying in Paris and participating in/winning a self-imposed challenge to eat a pastry a day. Given that my current personal dessert menu is comprised of artificially sweetened and flavored yogurt, the pants are huge now. On top, I wore a J.Crew men's sweater that I found in a classroom in college and snatched up after watching it sit unclaimed for two weeks. I also wore Birkenstocks and a Patagonia down vest. If I were a boy, I would've looked awesome.

I decided that my outfit wouldn't be so bad if I pretended to channeling someone. But who? Annette Bening in The Kids Are Alright? Nah. My fantasy boyfriend? Nope.

Aha!

Jennifer Garner, going on errands.

A click-thru of People.com's archives reveals that Jennifer Garner, when she isn't on the red carpet wearing c-c-c-couture, is running errands around Los Angeles wearing kinda basic, kinda non-matching, kinda ugly, but still designer, outfits. Even if her outfits (as evidenced above) don't seem to be put together with any thought (and not in an effortless French kind of way), she rocks it. She makes me want to be a suburban mom in Southern California, especially one who's also the star of my No. 7 favorite romcom, the wife of Ben Affleck, and the ex-wife of Scott Foley (um, Noel).

So, as I walked out the door of Tasti-D-Lite, I tricked myself into thinking that I too was Jennifer Garner, and instead of going home to my parents, I was going home to Ben Affleck. #no.

All images via People.com

Lob Season

My favorite date, September 21, marks the end of summer, the beginning of fall, and a nine month hiatus from humidity, or so I hope because I lobbed my hair. The lob--long bob--is a risky chop for the naturally curly, mainly because we have to commit to straightening our hair more often than not or we risk it frizzing into the shape of a yield sign (stole that one from The Princess Diaries series, Mia Thermapolis, YGG).

I last lobbed my hair off two years ago. I was watching You've Got Mail with a friend, and aside from being unbelievably enamored with Kathleen Kelly's partiality for pleated chinos and periwinkle sweater sets, we couldn't stop focusing on her haircut. Granted, her hair sways more to the 'choppy bob' side of the short hair spectrum. Nonetheless, she inspired me to chop my hair off (and take up on AOL pen pal. JK, didn't do that, but maybe I should).

After watching You've Got Mail for the umpteenth time, I searched Google for images of the original lobbers: Olivia Palermo, Sophia Coppola, Jessica Alba. I semi-collaged the pictures and brought them to the hair salon, but was too passive/uncommunicative and let the stylist give me too many layers. Lesson learned: speak up when going after a straight lob.

Once again, I found myself loosely inspired by Kathleen Kelly to cut my hair. I went to the salon, got six or so inches off, and went back to Supercuts the next day to take off another inch. Lob accomplished. I was accompanied by the same co-founding friend of the Kathleen Kelly fan club, and post-lob she enumerated the merits of a short haircut, one being the sweater-lob look. To be the subject of a forthcoming post.

Images via Google image

The Royals, circa 1989

I was sitting at work yesterday, and either inspired by the ubiquitous Tommy Hilfiger ad or by a fellow commuter on the subway, I had a vision... of plaid trouser shorts.

Image via Style.com

And then I had a thought. (Off tangent, but starting a sentence with "and then I had a thought" has me pretending that I'm Carrie Bradshaw, sitting in my underwear in my rent controlled apartment, comparing men to handbags. Back on tangent.) What did plaid trouser shorts remind me of? I couldn't put my finger on it, but as many a pedophile has done before me, I typed "British school boys" into Google images, and came across the following photo:

Image via Google

Which subsequently reminded me of a picture I had seen in People magazine circa the royal wedding hysteria. Namely, this one:

Image via Google

And upon looking at this picture, I'm convinced that there is no better September outfit than one that vaguely resembles the school uniform of a British royal.

Band of Outsiders Wool Bermuda Shorts, Uniqlo V-Neck Sweater, L.L. Bean Cotton Socks, Marni Patent Leather Loafers, Barbour Bedale Jacket, J. Crew Colorblock Wool Cap