precociously peplum

Cardigan & Flats: J.Crew, Peplum Top: BCBG, Shorts: Marc Jacobs, Rocco Bag: Alexander Wang; All photos by: Kristine Constantino

In rare form I chose to wear flats. J.Crew makes them best; out of the very few pairs of flats I own J.Crew has it's brand on each of them. What's life without brand loyalty? I dare you to say differently. Juxtaposed to my flat wearing rarity, I am donning a peplum top on a uncharacteristically frigid day.. Someone didn't check the weather before they got dressed.. Regardless of weather-woes, who doesn't love a peplum top? The whole idea behind it is ingenious, not to mention flattering for quite literally any figure. As you can see this is my second post in a row of the well revered peplum. The way it cinches in at the smallest part of the waist, and flounces out in a pleated/ruffled sort of way that hides any part of yourself that you want to keep hidden. Not only that, practically any woman wearing a peplum top receives an overload of attention, whether it is the kind of attention you want is another story. Exercise use of the peplum top carefully ;)

Always someone looking to push the envelope, I chose a peplum with a rather exposed back. Backs are pretty sexy, and if you can find a top/dress/whatever that can elegantly reveal yours- hats off to you. The older I get the more inappropriate it is to expose skin, however an exposed back if worn correctly can be decorous!

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Stripes not fights

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Necklace: J.Crew

Tank: Forever 21 (Jessica Harvey's closet: www.linkedin.com/pub/jessica-harvey/22/58b/bb9;

Belt: J.Crew;

Pants: Mossimo;

Topsiders: Sperry

All photos by my good friend and colleague, Kristine Constantino: www.linkedin.com/in/kristineconstantino

Let's get one thing straight: stripes for as long as I can remember have represented one thing in life I have simultaneously respected and disdained; uniforms.  Going to a private high school a polo paired with a striped skirt was part of the everyday uniform, to boot with tube socks; I hated that thing. Every time I wore those stripes I swear without fail I would get into some sort of altercation. Be it with my parents, the dean at my high school, or some poor unsuspecting teacher that was just trying to do their job. Soon enough I was associating stripes with a recusant connotation. In fact, just yesterday I fell off a bike (badly might I add) while wearing stripes. Cool, everyone cares, anyways..

*disclaimer: Hi all! I deeply apologize for all of my actions as a teenager. Thank you for not killing me*

Anyway, back to me. As someone who prides herself on having fierce individuality while constantly and consistently doing her own thing I found the whole uniform thing entirely constricting, tauten, even suffocating. I wanted to do my own thing and this institution was hell bent on all of us looking the same, the antithesis of my beliefs, no thanks.

At the same time stripes have been the moniker of a sport I have followed ever since my Dad took me to my first Giant's game when I was 10 (PacBell Park just opened and it was shiny & new!): baseball. Uniforms make sense in that entity; sports, teams, representing unity or that you are only as strong as your weakest player, something along those lines? I would also like to point out that many athletes fall victim to rage while in stripes, much like the teenage Kelly. Just something to think about.. Nonetheless outside of those 9+ innings I had maja issues gettin' behind the whole uniform thing.

Clearly times have changed. I realized that stripes also represented a pretty rad country (I deeply apologize for the imperialism/nationalistic attitude I am about to express, but really I'm not all that apologetic): AMERRRICCAAA. The very definition of freedom. Other than that, Louie Vuitton, Prada, Moschino, WunderKind, and Balenciaga totally capitalized on stripes in the Spring of 2011 and my life has not been the same since *embellishing for dramatic effect* Thus my love affair with stripes began, and if yours hasn't already -- it should. XOXO

[24] hour power, or [24] hour power year?

You are only allotted so many trips around the sun, and in all seriousness you never know how many you are going to get. I was lucky enough to celebrate one of those trips earlier this week, most specifically in the middle of Paris Fashion Week (I die) & on Fat Tuesday! That’s right, my birthday was on Mardi Gras – however I made the decision of not adorning traditional Mardi Gras attire and decided to go for something a bit more inspired:

Inspiration: Paris Fashion Week Street Style: Day 9

I fell in madly in love maybe 20 days ago with the crop top/ full skirt look. Maybe because I have been bombarded by this pairing extensively during London, Italy and now Paris fashion week, but maybe not. Not usually a fan of crop tops since I feel uncomfortable exposing that much of my stomach while simultaneously reminding people of the 90s. That being said, the full skirt alone is quite severe and can appear too stiff/formal for my taste if styled incorrectly. The crop top/full skirt mixture meets young/chic/fun/icantakeovertheworldbecauseitsmybirthday with elegance and sophistication in the most appealing of forms.

Determined to find a look that resembled the one above I headed to Nordy’s; keeping in mind the facet of human nature, or the reality life as such: everytime you are looking for something you can never find it. However, the birthday gods smiled down on me (PS THANKS) because I found the striped skirt, brand: Halogen, and crop top, brand: Tildon fairly quickly. Insta outfit [literally insta]. I kept in mind I had this exquisite necklace I purchased in Scottsdale last year from Madewell, and sassy candy apple red suede Sam Edelman platforms with an ankle strap that would go harmoniously with my new purchases.

Overall, I felt the love on my birthday: 24 FOLD. Incredibly blessed for all the amazing individuals in my life that I hold close to my heart, they all know who they are and they ain’t nothing it they don’t. Thank you for making this my best birthday yet. Like wine, age gets better with time.

A special shout out to Willie Mays, who absolutely killed this number throughout his epic career. Maybe I’ll even hit a few grand slams while repping this number.

The Blonde Gangster

Greetings loyal readers and welcome to today’s topic: The Blonde Gangster aka yours truly. One might wonder why am I the blonde gangster? I’ll tell you straight up yo, there is nothing gangster about me other than the music I choose to expose my ears to. Gangster rap, it’s my tune of choice everytime. Inspiration for this came when I was jogging earlier and I realized, all I listen to is rap!!!!! Lil Wayne’s degrading yet seductively captivating lyrics strike cords within me every time. My good friend accuses me of being born black, bleached white and set up in this lanky betches body. I get the whole, “But you’re so pretty, why do you listen to this music?”

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I never saw anything wrong with it. When I was 13 I bought the ‘Get Rich or Die Tryin’ CD, which my parents found and broke in two halves in front of my face. What did I do? I went and bought another, and another and I rocked that shit everyday in the car within my portable CD player on the way to middle school, G-Unit shoes on obviously. As if that weren’t enough, I started cutting out pictures from magazines, and printing pix off the internet of the one and only Curtis Jackson. Vowing I would lose my virginity only to him. Now clearly that did not happen but now at 23 I am seriously starting to wonder where did this obsession with hip/hop and rap music come from?

I live in, well, not an area that has avid rap listeners. So why is this white chick obsessed with rap music? My uncle the other day, not my real uncle but one of those uncles that is best friends with your parents so therefore automatically an uncle, says to me as we are driving in my car listening to you guessed it, the lyrical wonders of 50 Cent:

““What is up with all these white kids wanting to have an experience in the ghetto? I just don’t get it.””

— Kenny DiFiore

I don’t get it either uncle. It’s not like I listen to this music wanting to be having an experience; I literally feel the music, A WHOLE LOT. It makes me want to dance, it makes me smile, it makes me happy and it gets me going. No other music does what rap does for me.

I always wonder, what is going to happen when I get (even) older and eventually pro-create. When my children decide to ask what my favorite type of music is, or my favorite song am I really going to drop beats with Andre Nickatina 4AM bay bridge music? I don’t think so.. So many other parts of my personality have matured, yet my music taste, though expanded and refined in many areas, preferentially has stayed relatively stagnant. Sorry Dad I still like black men singing about drugs, struggles, and getting low (throwback ’04)

Always remember to KEEP IT REAL

xo

The Blonde Gangster