Mirror Ball

Dressopotamia is a bit like Zeno's Paradox for me, in that the closer I get to the end, the harder it is for me to finish.

But finish I will, as my closet is finite. (I once read an article comparing Sex & the City to a superhero franchise: instead of a cyborg whose punches have the power of kicks—

Pulitzer Prize

Dress two from my most recent best shopping day ever: Pulitzer Prize.

I mean, obviously it's a prize.

Color Bloc

Color Bloc is an oldie but a goodie. It's an oldie for me, I mean, as I got it in 2000, which means that it's 30+ years younger than Sky Flower, which joined my collection in August.

Shell Game

I just read an article in The New Yorker about a fancy restaurant where dessert is somehow intertwined with a three-card monte. I'm still not sure exactly how it works — the server flips over a card that has your dessert ingredient of choice? — and I am in no danger of ever finding out, given the frequency (hint: not high) with which I take advantage of New York's fine restaurants.

Mini-Post: Audrey One, Part Two (Dressopotamia Giveaway!)

I wrote a full post on Audrey One a while back, and after giving it a lot of thought, I've decided to send it out into the wild. This means you could be the next proud owner of Audrey One!

I've discussed its shortcomings in great detail, but please keep in mind the following:

Disco Mondrian (Dressopotamia Giveaway!)

Time for another Dressopotamia giveaway!

Lilac Baby

I can't remember exactly when and how Lilac Baby came into my life.

It was probably in Argentina? (In case you haven't picked up on this yet, my time in Buenos Aires included a lot of vintage buying sprees.) There's a lot to like about it, and a lot that is frankly a little meh.

Audrey One

Dear Readers, I have another dress that I really need your input on.

The top half is cute, right? Pretty color, lavender piping and shoulder accents. They're like feminine epaulets. Epaulettes, if you will.

But there's something weird about the shape of Audrey One.

Phony Joanie

You knew this was coming: let's talk Mad Men.

Enter the Dragon

It is a sad paradox, if not the sad paradox, of shopping, that the more money you spend on an article of clothing, the less likely you are to get a lot of wear out of it. The fragile embroidery, the delicate fabric, the intricate stitching: all the elements that justify a higher price turn into reasons to not wear your new lovely garment.


Además, in the age of Facebook, we're all mini-celebs being hounded by paparazzi, except the paparazzi are our nearest and dearest. It's hard to wear the same fancy dress to multiple parties, knowing that everyone you've ever met will see pictures from all of them. Counterpoint: I am reminded of the fashion icon (name escaping me) who claimed she made sure to be photographed in her dresses at least twice, to prove she owned them. I don't worry about this too much.

I own this dress. Take my word for it.

Anyway, in case you're interested, I have hacked through this particular Gordian knot. The solution: embrace formality. If you like to dress up, 'fess up! There is absolutely nothing wrong with being the dressiest person in the room; in fact, if I could express the wrongness in negative numbers, I would.

Case in point: my aunt received a literary prize the other day. Forgive my bragging, but I can't stop kvelling! Not a suuuuper fancy occasion (daytime ceremony), but I had a new dress that I was already worrying wouldn't amortize well.

In a bizarre oversight, I have no photos of me at the ceremony, but it made me feel great to be wearing my newest, nicest duds; it was my way (which is certainly not the only way) of marking the momentousness of the occasion.