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Posts Tagged ‘marc jacobs’

SAG Awards 2011 Fashion Report

In Fashion, Film, Media, On Location: Out and About in L.A. on January 31, 2011 at 1:07 pm

Who watched the SAG Awards last night? I have to say, it is fascinating to see the difference between how a dress plays out on camera versus in the flesh. In person, Mila Kunis absolutely KILLED IT on the red carpet. Her Alexander McQueen gown was so chic—and the Cartier jewels, all of it, just a show-stopper. Her Black Swan costar Natalie Portman absolutely glowed in a white Azarro gown (was that not the best maternity dress EVER???) and her makeup was stunning, but in photos weirdly the look falls a little flat. Similarly, photos do no justice to one of my very favorite looks of the evening, Claire Danes in a gorgeous floral Louis Vuitton, with little flowers sewn into the bodice and a chic black velvet belt.

True Grit‘s Hailee Steinfeld looked age-appropriate in a neon-striped Prada number, but I’m on the fence about whether this actually worked (below). In theory I like it, but in reality the dress is LOUD. Meanwhile, January Jones was gorgeous in photos in an elegant Carolina Herrera but in person she has gotten so skinny that she looked like a wire hanger poking through the dress.

With the exception of Mila Kunis and the flawless Julianna Margulies in her stunning YSL, red dresses have become such a cliché that they are now officially more boring than black. And speaking of black, Nicole Kidman looked like she was wearing a granny shawl with all that heavy stuff happening in the shoulders and neckline of her dowdy Nina Ricci dress. And is it just me, or did Christina Hendricks look as if she’d borrowed one of Hugh Hefner’s bathrobes? Without doubt, the worst of the evening was Helena Bonham Carter, looking like a Texas madam in Marc Jacobs and featuring a hair tint that—when the light caught it backstage—can only be described as prune.

On the other hand, I found myself a little bit breathless when walking in on the red carpet behind her costar Colin Firth in a Tom Ford tux. The man is just stunning. Also, I may never wash my Lanvin frock again as I brushed shoulders with Christian Bale (who, ladies, was all the more devastatingly handsome in person) and Justin Timberlake, who looked AWESOME in his Simon Spur black 2-button gros grain peak lapel tuxedo and double-stripe tie. For sheer tailoring alone, however, my vote goes to his Social Network costar Andrew Garfield in an exquisite navy Burberry tux. Why do the Brits get this navy thing so right? (Exhibit A: Jude Law, below, navy Dunhill tux, Oscars 2004.)

Who were your favorite hits and misses from the awards?

Postcards from Billy

In Fashion on March 3, 2010 at 8:06 am

For the newly initiated, POSTCARDS is recurring feature with fashion advice from my dear friend Billy, an art consultant with a wicked eye and even wickeder wardrobe. In this edition, he packs his bags for Savannah and mixes a molotov cocktail of muscle cars and Mila Kunis to reinvent himself just in time for St. Patrick’s Day.


I am feeling the overwhelming need to butch up a little right now.  My dear friend Jeannie actually just used the term “Hail Mary pass” and without skipping a beat felt the need to explain the phrase. What? Am I that light in the loafers that I can’t get a simple sports reference? Granted, my overly thought-out current fave loafers, a blue Gucci driving version with a bamboo bit, might lead one to believe that I don’t watch a lot of athletic events.

With that in mind, I am going to re-invent myself in March.  I can’t think of a better way than to embrace the thoroughly testosterone-filled drinking holiday, St. Patrick’s Day. Since I am now living in Atlanta, I should just make a trip down to Savannah, a city that used to go so far as to dye the river green to celebrate the saint most likely played by Colin Farrell in the action-packed version of his life shepherding snakes out of Ireland. My plan for this trip:

  • Rent either a Ford Mustang or large SUV for the trip and leave my Volkswagen sedan at home. Perhaps in a red or black, white is too girly.
  • My iPod will be filled with lots of macho classics: L.L. Cool J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out” (or “I’m Bad”), Cypress Hill’s “Insane In The Membrane,” Led Zeppelin classics and of course, the quintessential House of Pain’s “Jump Around.” Apparently my friend Jeannie refers to these as jock jams. When she said, that my mind automatically went to gay porn and not beer cans crushed on one’s forehead.
  • The outfits will be channeling old-school frat-boy prep. Of course, I refuse to go balls to the wall and sacrifice every bit of my innate sense of fashion.  It would be somewhat akin to a chic girl accepting a tangerine chiffon bridesmaid dress. The pieces I would bring:
    1. khaki and seersucker pants – slimmer fit versions, perhaps something from Thom Browne or Michael Bastian.
    2. Lacoste polo shirts – in every color of the rainbow
    3. blue Ralph Lauren or Brooks Brothers blazer and I will resist every temptation to add a whimsical silk pocket square and instead opt for the classic white handkerchief
    4. suede bucs – need I say more?
  • The ideal accessory will also be an excuse to buy something I’ve been coveting for too long – a Filson shooting bag in hunter green.
  • The only definite accessory will be some arm-candy. The only way to save me from some unfortunate gay bashing moment will be a leggy, chic girl with me at all times.  If I were to have a true Hollywood casting call, I would probably want Elizabeth Banks or Mila Kunis. Both would seem as comfortable at a Southern cotillion or doing keg stands at Auburn’s homecoming weekend.

To keep with this current mindset, will you please talk me off the cliff if I falter and decide to make a visit to Marc Jacobs Savannah store?  My argument will be simple and impassioned: it is his only outpost in the South besides Bal Harbour Shops in Miami.

XXX Billy

Missing the Marc, Beau-Coupe

In Design, Drink on July 29, 2009 at 8:41 am


Last night, we celebrated some good news from my husband’s work with a bottle of 2002 Deutz Rosé Champagne (a gift when Tiny G was born last summer), which we enjoyed in these pretty Champagne coupes we got as a wedding present. They are the Elizabeth pattern from the Marc Jacobs for Waterford collection, a pattern which we ultimately selected because my mother-in-law’s name is Elisabeth. We love them. A lot.

We only use the coupes on special occasions, like last night. And so, when I started this blog post, I was going to talk about how gorgeous the crystal is with cut floral patterns and the pretty raspberry and cherry flavors in the salmon-pink Deutz. But then when I went to link to the coupes, I discovered these heart-wrenching words on Waterford’s site: “THIS IS A RETIRED PATTERN. REMAINING STOCK IS AVAILABLE FOR SALE, FOR A LIMITED TIME.”

I’m gutted. So, panicked, we ordered a few more coupes and are hoping to round out what we still need little by little before it’s all gone.

Courtroom Chic

In Fashion on April 1, 2009 at 7:30 am


This morning marks the start of my official jury duty. I’ll be on a case that is likely to last for several weeks. I can’t help think this all had something to do with my outfit during jury selection, which I described to my friend Billy. (It involved a metallic ballet flat and some Spanish jewelry.) “You should’ve played the ultra-religious card and worn lots of Southern Baptist Talbots if you didn’t want to be picked for the jury,” he chastised me. “In conservative Orange County they would have loved it, but not LA.” 

For today’s appearance, he said, if you want to be remembered as chic Juror #12, channel lots of vintage Winona courtwear. “Remember all the demure little Marc Jacobs numbers Winona wore when fighting her shoplifting charges?” he asked. Of course I’m on the jury, not on trial, but I get where he’s going with it, and in fact I do have several of his trompe l’oeil jackets and blouses circa 2001-2002, and I also have a great Marc by Marc black acrylic headband I picked up in NY a year or so ago to borrow from my favorite of Winona’s fashionable turns in court (above). And heels! And bags! Here are some other of her genius ensembles, and I credit Paris for taking a page out of Noni’s legal pad with the headband (though I’m thinking that silly Chanel bag didn’t do her any favors):

Arriving at the Beverly Hills Municipal Court for her preliminary hearing on shoplifting charges June 3, 2002 in Beverly Hills, CA.

Arriving at the Beverly Hills Municipal Court for her preliminary hearing on shoplifting charges June 3, 2002.


Entering the courthouse after a lunch break on the third day of her shoplifting trial.

Entering the Beverly Hills Municipal courthouse after a lunch break on the third day of her shoplifting trial, October 30, 2002.


Arriving at Los Angeles Superior Court, May 4, 2007.

Arriving at Los Angeles Superior Court, May 4, 2007.

Friday Follies in Film: A Checkered Past

In Fashion, Film on March 6, 2009 at 7:53 am

Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.


When Sean Penn took the stage to accept the Academy Award for his performance in Milk, it made me flash back nearly 30 years to Fast Times at Ridgemont High, the 1982 movie that burns brightly in my memory not just for the slow-mo, topless Phoebe Cates sequence, but for Penn’s pot-smoking, wave-riding Jeff Spicoli character—and his particular choice in footwear: the iconic black-and-white checkerboard slip-on skate shoes known as Vans.

The first time Spicoli wandered onto the screen sporting the canvas kicks I knew I had to score me a pair. To a rural Vermonter, they seemed to represent the exotic world of cool California, the skate rats, the surfer dudes – the assorted sun sponges, free spirits and law-benders that enjoyed a hedonistic Eden that was 3,000 miles and three time zones away.

I bought my first pair that year on a class shopping trip from boarding school to Holyoke Mall in Holyoke, Massachusetts.

When I broke my left leg in three places that summer, friends used a black Magic Marker to give the foot of the cast a checkerboard pattern to match the right. By the time the cast was off, I’d worn out the right shoe. It wasn’t until a quarter-century later, when I actually moved to Los Angeles, that I owned anything other than those first black-and-white checkerboards; I now own some 30 pair, including beige/espresso checkerboards, custom-designed pink and black checkerboards, (in honor of the Bride), tweeds, palm-trees prints, Galinsky prints, Marc Jacobs crossword-puzzle designs, green aloha prints, the limited-edition Simpsons chukkas (black lace-ups emblazoned with Kwik-E Mart shopkeeper Apu) and even the 40th-anniversary re-issued original maroon-colored lace-ups in the original blue-and-white “Van Doren” shoe box.

Curiously, I no longer own a pair of the black-and-whites that started my collection, but something about watching Penn win the Oscar – maybe it’s because I happened to be back in the frozen hinterlands of my home state – made me want to put on a pair, pop in a copy of Fast Times and as Spicoli himself might put it: “catch a tasty wave.”—Adam Tschorn, Los Angeles Times