XO Shopaholica

Ring, $230 from Digby & Iona, spotted via the cherry blossom girl

Feast your fashion-loving eyes on this fabulous gem, and tell me it isn’t absolutely gorgeous:

Le sigh. Now if only I could find a way to make this piece part of my jewelry collection.

While I might not have an exciting new unveiling about Shopaholica’s identity, I do still see designers, clothing and beautiful things worth sharing. In that vein, I’ve fallen in love with Danish clothing line By Malene Birger. Her collections have that innate European chicness that can only come from abroad. I have yet to see that particular style sensibility successfully replicated in the U.S., which makes me feel like I am living on the wrong continent.  Give me unlimited shopping trips to Isabel Marant and By Malene Birger, a French baguette and a flat in London, and I’d die a very, very happy – and no doubt stylish – person.

I’ve posted a snapshot of the Spring 2009 By Malene Birger collection above so you can see what I’m drooling over. I realize it’s dated by now, but Spring 2009 was one of my favorite all-around seasons for fashion. Rosettes, chiffon, impeccable draping and feminine details everywhere… what’s not to love?

P.S. I’m trying to emphasize the styling service aspect of The Stylish Soiree (as seen in our recent Chanel-inspired bridal photo shoot), so if you or anyone you know wants to be beautifully bedecked for their engagement shoot, party or wedding, you know who to refer them to.

Well, since you mention it, I suppose I can name one more thing I want – this gorgeous Antik Batik long sleeve ruffle dress. Preferably wrapped up with a pretty bow, placed neatly beneath my Christmas tree *smiles demurely*. What I love so much about this dress is the endless possibilities to dress it up or down. It can be worn to a brunch and shopping trip with the girls by rolling the sleeves to elbow-length, adding a black scoopneck tank underneath,  tights (the J. Crew herringbone tights in the caramel color, perhaps?) and flats.

Or, make your entrance to a swanky holiday party as belle of the ball with bronzer liberally applied to your gams and decollete, a killer pair of heels and eye-catching clutch. Oh yes, and a fabulous pair of gold or citrine and gold earrings for a finishing sparkle and pop to the outfit. Better yet, it would also make a perfect New Years party frock; just throw on a short fur or faux fur coat, tights and sexy boots and you’re ready to brave the cold without looking frumpy.  I usually don’t love Antik Batik designs, but this stunner is surely the perfect dress for a stylish girl’s winter wardrobe.

Long Sleeve Ruffle Dress by Antik Batik, $375 at Net A Porter

It’s just been one of those days. The kind where you wake up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed, nothing goes right, and no matter how much work you get through, the to-do list keeps growing.  In spite of my commitment to remaining positive in the face of adversity, today simply has me beat. The dogs stole my favorite cozy house socks and chewed them up, not once but three times. My lovely new car ended up in the shop less than a week after we bought it, and the hubby’s car, apparently a magnet for nails and other sharp objects, got a flat tire immediately following a client meeting. Stranded in front of a florist’s shop in Hollywood, I waited half an hour for the (very rude) AAA guy to arrive and change my tire. He felt that speaking on the cell phone with his paramour the entire time he was changing my tire was an appropriate thing to do. Let me assure you, it was not.

The hubby, my go-to source for peace and happiness, is traveling on business and can’t help too much from thousands of miles away. When I called dear old mom for a pick me up, all I got was more bad news dumped on my head. And by ‘more bad news’ I mean guilt, insults, and a lot of really, really bad news. Yes, it was just one of those days.

In my opinion, being in your mid-twenties is just as confusing as being a teenager. Not only do you go through the same soul-searching about who you really are and what you want to do with your life, but you also have the added responsibility of car payments, student loans, rent, grocery bills, parental issues, and friends with expensive tastes… who like to eat out… a lot. I wish I could just throw caution to the wind and leap blindly into life, hoping that the soft clouds of ambition, hard work and good luck will catch my fall. But I simply can’t, knowing that one paycheck can’t sustain our lifestyle, and knowing that my parents, who I’ve always turned to for assistance, suddenly find themselves in a worse position than I am.

Blech – the growing pains of the Quarterlife Crisis. With issues like these, I’m looking forward to my 30s like a kid dreaming of Santa. (And if you have some age advice like, “you’ll only have a whole new host of issues in your 30s”… now’s not the time to share. Don’t burst my splendid vision of the future, not just yet . For now, all I can really do is count my blessings, have faith and keep on trekking.  If you’ve already suffered through a quarterlife crisis, how did you finally get through it?

And then, suddenly, life was not so good. December of that year was a craptastic month in more ways than one – not only did our office close down, leaving me out of a job, but my beloved J. Crew herringbone tights became hopelessly frayed when I foolishly wore them with my tall riding boots. Apparently the inside of the zipper at the boot’s top had a rough edge, and when I took them off that day I was dismayed to find the area just behind the knee of my tights filled with irreparably fuzzy, snagged stubble.  I couldn’t bear to throw the tights away, and have attempted to camouflage the surly snaggles by wearing extra high boots and by pushing my tights down super low. Let’s just say it wasn’t quite working.

So when I walked into J. Crew yesterday for a little Columbus Day stroll through the mall (prompted by the hubby, in search of a jacket), I was over the moon to find that the Crew brought back my beloved tights for the Fall 2009 season. I might have gotten a little too carried away, and actually ended up buying the herringbone tights in two colors. But I’ll return one of them… tomorrow. I promise.

I’m a huge fan of mixing high and low fashion. It’s such a great way to pull together a stylish looking outfit, and mixing in the low price items with expensive pieces you own elevates the whole look.  Guiseppe Zanotti’s fall collection includes a pair of black leather peep toes with a zipper-edged rose on the top that are seriously badass and sexy.  Then today I came across a mirror image of the zipper-edged rose… in the form of a $4 ring. How fun and sassy would it be to pair these two together to roughen up a prim and proper outfit? Maybe a ruffled collar, sleeveless button down blouse with high waisted pencil skirt? Or a ruffled white cami tucked into skinny ankle jeans, topped with a colorful sweater? What would you pair this with?

Take a good, long look at these stylish baubles. Lovely, right? If I didn’t know where they came from I probably would have guessed they were sold at J. Crew or Anthropologie and cost somewhere between $40 – $100. I’ve lusted after so many J. Crew and Anthro jewelry pieces that I’ve lost count, yet every one I’ve refrained from buying because they usually cost a pretty penny. If you, like me, are in love with their feminine, irresistible jewelry pieces, you are in luck. Because all of the pretty pieces above are from good old Forever 21.

Ranging in price from $3.80 to $15, these lovelies are so affordable you can snap up three or four and still come in under budget. Speaking of which, I may or may not have made a detour to the Beverly Center this weekend and snagged a few new $4 rings myself. Happy Bargain Shopping!

Tear Looped Jewel Bracelet, $14.80

Floral Hinge Bracelet, $8.80

Anisa Studded Bracelet, $7.80

She (Emerson, presumably?) models all her own clothes and puts together undeniably stylish ensembles that I want to recreate with my own wardrobe. She stages Anthropologie / J. Crew inspired photo shoots on what seems to be her own rural, verdant farm, complete with an old fashioned wooden porch and spotted guinea fowl. Last, but certainly not least, she creates lovely one of a kind fabric flower accessories in all shapes and sizes that would go fabulously with my wardrobe.

What’s not to love?

P.S. Emerson Made can be purchased through their website, but her photo shoots & musings are found on the blog.

"This as real as it gets" (10 pts for anyone who knows where those lyrics come from). I realize this picture is totally random and does not correlate with the post whatsoever, but I love it. Plus, I really wanted an excuse to make reference to the "I'm on a Boat" music video, hehehe...

I have a confession. I have been putting off my 100th post for over a week now, ever since I realized that it was the 100th Shopaholica post. The enormity of the milestone post weighed on me for some time, and I didn’t want it to be wasted on a random hair piece or a few trivial sentences about eyelash enhancing mascara (which, if you are interested in the topic, is on the posting horizon).  However, as the days dragged on and I grew increasingly busy with other work (you know, the painfully dull kind that pays the bills), I realized that unless I just sat down and started typing, Shopaholica would never have a 100th post.

So it is without earth-shattering news,  stories involving wedding planning hilarity or a fabulous must-have frock that I begin my 100th post. I thought perhaps I’d spend the post reflecting on the twists and turns of Shopaholica and my life, and see where it takes me. Who needs a well-planned post when random musings will do, eh? Well, I suppose I’ll let you be the judge of the method’s success.

February 9, 2008 is the fateful day Shopaholica was born into the webiverse. At the time I found myself newly engaged, sitting at home all day and utterly, hopelessly lost as to what my next career move might be. Just two months prior the fabulous fashion startup company I was euphorically climbing the ranks of imploded with a sudden bang, absorbing with it my aspirations to become a young fashion VP selling the virtues of our blog and trend stores to the retail world.  The first day after finding myself jobless I took out every Manolo, Jimmy and Prada pump in my closet and busied myself by hand cleaning and polishing each one to an impeccable gleam. Career be damned, I was going to step out in style regardless of my employment status.

But then one month turned into two, and two into three. And while I floundered around looking for my next career move, I found it hard to accept job offers (more like job pittances) that involved one third less in salary and ten times the boring corporate culture.  Knowing that I loved to write, I stayed on top of bills by utilizing my stabbing wit and entertaining humor – or at least, that’s how it goes in the glamorous, romanticized version of my freelance writing career. Reality consisted more of a few fun articles overshadowed by the dreary production of keyword-heavy web content for someone random company’s search engine optimization: useful, income generating content… just the type I’d rather gouge my eyes out than spend all day writing.

Shopaholica was, at that time, a breath of fresh air that enabled me to write what I wanted to write about without anyone telling me what to say or how to say it. I began the blog in hopes of adding carefully handpicked retail advertisers whose well-edited inventory would delight my faithful readers, but soon gave up hope that I’d ever have time to manage it all on top of my paid work. Much like myself, Shopaholica stumbled along blindly for a year until I fell in love with weddings and went into further shopping-induced debt thanks to my own nuptials.  Suddenly, instead of regularly gushing about $500 shoes and Net-A-Porter’s latest selection on Shopaholica, I began feeling like a fraud. How could I sincerely write about shopping when my own financial reality barred me from stepping foot into a boutique?

In one year I went from charging Louboutins on my Saks plastic to scouring eBay for $35 Cynthia Vincent (NWT, woot!) dresses.  The only glimmer of hope in my shopping life has been the 70% off sales at struggling upscale department stores, which has allowed me a small amount of wiggle room – not so much in my budget, but in my justification of pulling out the plastic once more to revel in the deeply satisfying feeling that comes from slipping the perfect new dress over my head. Call me crazy, but if you’re a true shopaholic you know what I’m talking about.

So while friends and family who (claim to) enjoy reading Shopaholica are requesting more posts, I am here to sheepishly admit that I’ve been avoiding such posts. Perhaps I’m afraid of opening the shopping floodgates once more, or maybe I’m just using a self-indulgent excuse to avoid blogger accountability. I don’t know, all I know is that the idea of adding new posts to Shopaholica leaves me with a small, hollow knot inside that feels a little bit like regret.  Regret for past purchases, regret for the items in my closet that I’ll never wear again, and regret for starting out this blog so ambitiously while failing to nurture it with fresh content.

I didn’t intend for this 100th inaugural blog to turn into such a pity party of a post, but then I suppose that is what I get for writing this while feeling overworked, underpaid and shopping-deprived. As for the future of Shopaholica, it is undecided as of yet. Perhaps it can move forward as a blog of style inspirations, since I can convince myself that inspiration does not necessarily lead to shopping.  And besides, everyone needs a little inspiration in life, especially the overworked and underpaid, am I right?

In writing this, I am reminded again of the nagging strains of suffering through the Quarter Life Crisis; QLC if you will. My love of writing has lost its Cinderella slippers only to be turned into a dreaded chore that pays the bills, my love of shopping vanished alongside with my corporate aspirations, and I’m left feeling just as confused as ever. I know what I want to do, but now I’m left struggling to find a means to do it.  Just how does one reach their target client base to start a brand new career? Especially when so many newbies are willing to offer their own planning services for nothing (literally, zero dollars) just to get a jump start in the field. Perhaps it’s stubbong 20-something vanity on my part, but I simply cannot reconcile working over 100 hours to make someone’s dream day come true without being compensated.

My only consolation is this: I know I’m great at it, and as long as I keep working relentlessly in the right direction I will eventually be successful. The wanting to succeed feels like a gnawing ache inside my soul, and it’s maddening that I just can’t reach the people I know will love what I have to offer.  I am suffering from a severe case of the Veruca Salt syndrome – “I want the world, I want the whole world… and I want it NOW!”  Cue the tantrum, sending Willy Wonka’s buckets of carefully stacked candy flying against the wall. Or in my case, dogeared wedding magazines, carefully crafted party inspiration boards and my emergency wedding toolkit, safety pins and white chalk gracefully arcing across my apartment as Rambo and Bentley dash for cover.

Does it ever stop, this wanting more? Or is the ceaseless need to have it all just a curse of the mid 20s, stuck somewhere in the middle of having parents hand you the world on a platter and successfully finding your own way? At any rate, both Shopaholica and I are in the middle of transition, doggedly trying to prove ourselves worthy of someone else’s time and money. Never one to slack, I know that eventually we’ll both make it in one way or another. So after a 1,300 word post of self-loathing and mindless musing, my parting question to you, dear readers (if any of you are left after a posting dry spell that rivaled California drought season), what would you like to see Shopaholica become?