The more time I spend looking at this outfit, the less I like it.

And I love lace. And asymmetry.

It’s just… SJP could feasibly be my mother. I would not want my mother going out in something like this.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a gorgeous dress. I love the lace, I love the white (who says you can’t wear white after Labour Day?!), I love how she has accessorized with a big floral piece (very Carrie), but I just don’t think it’s…well…appropriate. I think she’s showing a little bit too much skin and it just isn’t the right choice for her- even adding length to it would just make it look too bride-y.

I love the nude bag and pretty jewellery, but I don’t really understand why she chose green Manolo Blahnik shoes- I think nude or black would have been cuter. I do like her makeup, but again, I think the black eyeliner and heavy smokey eye it a little bit too much for her nowadays.

I’m not going to insist that SJP start wearing mom jeans and pant suits, but I’m just not mad on this one.

What do you think- hot or hot mess?

Fashion Week is here.
Fashion Week is here!!

I’ll admit it: I may be one of the only people who looks forward to fashion week more than Welcome Week (yeah I said it). But you know that when you come out of your week long drunken haze and find yourself bored in class (after all, one can only stare at her econ professor for so long wondering how this man who can barely speak a word of English is allowed to teach economics at a major university), you will need to preoccupy that boring classtime with other thoughts.

And what better thoughts than that of Spring 2010? After all, it’s never too early to think about Spring Break – especially when an adorbs Marc Jacobs sundress mini is involved, right? Of course, right. Now that’s a language we can all understand.

But instead of going into who brought what to the runway (we will save that for another painstakingly awful class day), I thought what better way to prepare for fashion week than to familiarize ourselves with the familiar? By now, fashion week has become a semi-annual ritual. Much like you know that you will wake up hung-over the morning of Thanksgiving, or the same routine you partake in year after year that makes you somehow totally forget your sorority formal – so too are the rituals for Fashion Week. The same season after season.

After season.

And just like the glorious return of the Pumpkin Spice Latte, it’s all those great familiar things we know we can expect to see that make us squeal with Fashion Week delight:

- Anna Wintor clad in a scowl, overly large sunglasses, and a giant helmet of hair.
- “Celebs” (read: Bravo reality stars/Lindsay Lohan) who so badly want to be celebs that they make their way to every fashion show. Only so they can be photographed by the paps.
- Models who really, really need to eat cookies… and make you not want to eat. Ever again.
- Week long heated oh-my-god-do-these-women-EVER-not-talk-over-one-another-get-me-some-Advil debate of said skinny models on The View.
- Rachel Zoe’s ribs sticking out of her fur vest as she says sips on her venti green tea, and exclaims “I Die” over the hottest run-way looks, telling the press that DVF show is BA-NANAS.
- Lots of really weird/ugly “clothes” coming down the runway that everyone claims they love but you secretly have no idea what is going on and what that designer was thinking. But you’ll be wearing something similar to it in six months.

Just thinking about it all makes me weak in the knees. Good thing I’m not wearing the 6-inch stilettos those models have to strut in.

Come to me, Fashion Week.  You have been missed!

If Carrie Bradshaw was literally going to be the lady who lived in her shoes, then I will be the lady who lived in her handbags. I guess the upside is that handbags are a lot roomier and more cushion-y than those 12 million pairs of Manolos Carrie rocked on a season to season basis.

Fact is, I love handbags. And I don’t discriminate against clutches or cross body bags or cute totes, either.

Anything that holds all of my crap also holds the key to my heart. And what’s more, this season there are so many options! Fringed brown shoulder bags, adorable chain strap clutches… I mean, for seriousness, how does one decide without Suze Orman knocking on her door saying, “hellooo, you’ve got a problem, girlfriend.”

Well, thankfully, you don’t have to worry about breaking the bank for that banging new bag (now there’s a tongue twister – take that, Sally and your sea-shells at the shore). Here are a few of my budget bags that are must-snags. Target and Lulus are not messing around this season, that’s for sure. And while blacks, browns and beautiful cognacs are still wardrobe staples, colors are becoming the new neutral. From jewel tones to gray to a soft red, don’t be afraid to add a splash of color to your normally uniform black ensemble.

And, best part, you can rock that bag knowing you’ve done both me and Suze Orman proud. Sure, Carrie has her Manolos but you have your Tarjay, and that extra money in your wallet is much more fab.

Totes (Magotes)

Purse That Converts to a Backpack
Perfect for class to shopping, and the deep purple is versatile and bomb diggity. Yeah I just said bomb diggity

Smaller Options

]]> http://collegecandy.com/2009/07/24/budget-stylista-hottie-handbags/feed/ 6 Jill - University of Wisconsin purses target purple target black lulus brown lulus red backpack urban blue lulus clutch target clutch dsw clutch http://collegecandy.com/2008/12/29/the-city-whitney-shoulda-stayed-in-la/ http://collegecandy.com/2008/12/29/the-city-whitney-shoulda-stayed-in-la/#comments Tue, 30 Dec 2008 04:01:52 +0000 Lauren - University of Michigan http://www.collegecandy.com/buzz/15631

Well, it ain’t The Hills, that’s for sure. Tonight was the season premier of The City (plus a second episode, which I almost missed when I had to run and take care of all that Diet Coke I was drinking), and I have to say – I was less than enthused. Maybe I hyped it up too much in my head, or maybe it’s because Bromance shattered my expectations (the “can-fessional”? Amazing.), but I was just not really feeling The …

Well, it ain’t The Hills, that’s for sure. Tonight was the season premier of The City (plus a second episode, which I almost missed when I had to run and take care of all that Diet Coke I was drinking), and I have to say – I was less than enthused. Maybe I hyped it up too much in my head, or maybe it’s because Bromance shattered my expectations (the “can-fessional”? Amazing.), but I was just not really feeling The City.

First of all, Jay is the East Coast version of Justin Bobby. He’s got the hats, the hair and the douchey lies that his lady just can’t seem to resist. But he’s also got a killer accent and I would probably fall for all that sh*t too. I just feel like his little “story-line” is going to be quite similar to the Audrina/JB saga and I am so over that. That sh*t should have stayed in L.A.

I also wasn’t really feeling Whitney’s friend, Erin. Ok, the girl is totally cute and has a sick apartment, but 1) how does Whit know her, and 2) her acting skills are so bad it’s making it really hard for me to ignore all other signs that this show is a total sham (like Alex showing up at the same bar as Whit and crew – that doesn’t happen in NY) and pretend this is real. Come on, girlfriend. Tone down the fake surprise a bit; you’re killing me.

And then there’s Olivia, the bitchy girl who comes from money. Day one at the office and she pretends not to know who Whitney is, then immediately starts talking about herself and never stops. No one cares about your deb ball, honey. Take your signed Manolos and get the hell out of Bergdorfs. (Oh and PS. I took great joy from the fact Erin showed up to the dinner party and messed up your little place cards.) And why is she so obsessed with Jay?

Predictions: they have or will get it on. Mark my words.

The only remotely exciting thing to happen during these 2 full episodes was the little tiff that went down at Tenjune. Alex wanted to talk to Whitney, Jay got all macho, words (mostly consisting of f**k, s**t, and dude) were exchanged, muscles were flexed, and in the end Alex and his ugly hat went home and Jay stayed with his lady. Too bad he’s a shadeball and something’s about to go down. Always trust the model with the funny hat.

So now we wait and see what happens next in Whitney’s ridiculous life (where she needs to not think about work after .5 days of doing it). I can’t say I’m excited to see what happens next…but I also can’t say that I won’t be watching.

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Manolo Blahnik

The concept of brunch

Cosmopolitans

Clubs Bungalow 8 and Bed

Cupcakes

The Rabbit

The word fabulous

Retardedly over-thought outfits

Next on my list was “bitching about men”, and I stopped myself short. SATC, I’ll give you credit for the context (brunch, obvs) but you don’t get credit for this one. I should know, I’m a woman, and I’ve been gabbing about men since long before Sex was a twinkle in HBO’s eye.

I’ve been thinking about this phenomenon more recently, as romantic relationships take a more prominent and permanent place in the lives of my friends. Casual dating, serious dating, sleeping around, moving in together, some crazy folks getting married, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever the situation, women have a need (which sometimes borders on the obsessive and pathological) to compare notes and share war stories.

Take a look at the cover of any glossy lady mag on newsstands right now, and you’ll get my drift. Cosmo teaches you to “Make Him Crave You”, Glamour has a whole SECTION entitled “Sex & Men”. Landing a man, pleasing a man, getting a man to please you, keeping a man, getting rid of a man. The list goes on. Sex and the City dovetailed brilliantly with this pre-existing female pre-occupation. When you aren’t spending time chatting about men with your girlfriends, you can watch other, more exciting people chat about men with their girlfriends!

I mean, I get it. Talking about men? Really entertaining. But my beef with this is twofold. First: you don’t know these people. More importantly, THEY DON’T KNOW YOU! and they don’t know your relationship. When I overhear someone say “he’s such an Aidan”, or “omigod it’s just like when Steve and Miranda….” I worry. I hope these are just interesting comments, meant to highlight the universality of the romantic experience, but I fear that these fictional situations are actually affecting how people approach their relationships. Maybe I’m not giving us ladies enough credit, but bear with me – this notion leads me directly into beef #2:

Beef #2 (maybe more of a personal problem for me) is the sheer creativity of it all. I stumble across “Are you a rebound?” and all of a sudden the possibility is there! I see “Top 10 Signs He Might Be Cheating” and….oh my god he DOES sometimes work late!!! Rational? Absolutely not. And it takes a friend who knows the situation to say “Gemma. He’s not cheating on you. He just has a job. That is a good thing” Cosmo promises that if I read this article I will understand all confusing men? Awesome! And fat fucking chance. Most men I know would be insulted to be lumped in with these d-bags.

Whatever the article or episode, the possibilities suggested and advice proffered may or may not apply to you, but I’m going to err on the side of not. Our lives and our relationships don’t fit into some universal romantic rubric. It would be so much easier, (GOD, would it ever) if they did, and we could always ‘know what to do’, but we owe our partners the courtesy of treating them as the individuals they are.

I have made a pact with myself: have my own brunch, discuss my own men. Compare war stories, ask for advice, but I’m cut off if I find myself freaking that my lovely man is going to go all Berger post-it on my ass.

Practical as these babies may be for me, I cannot think of any reason why men should own them. I wouldn’t even bother arguing this point aside from the unfortunate reality that I’ve seen it, both on campus in the Midwest and at subway entrances in the city.

Guys are wearing the classic-style Uggs, and apparently seem to think that’s okay. I do not believe I am the only one who finds this shocking, appalling, and more than a little disgusting.

Maybe it’s because so many guys are anti-Ugg that I can’t wrap my head around the idea of original Uggs for men. The only saving grace for the brand is that they do make legitimate leather boots and shoes that don’t look like the stereotypical Uggs. This does not relate to the pet peeve in question. We’re talking the original pull-on shearling boots. That men just don’t need.

It’s as frivolous as a guy wearing Manolo Blahnik running shoes. Something just doesn’t quite add up.

For one, if a man spends over a hundred dollars on shoes, they damn well don’t need to double as a slipper. I have issues respecting men in slippers anyway, but really. Buy some golf or gym shoes. Maybe even hiking boots. Nice work shoes or going out shoes, sure. But Uggs? If you want to look like a chick, throw on some pumps. Rocking Uggs in public is basically the same thing.

I wear Uggs on my commute to the office so I don’t ruin my feet with with heels any more than absolutely necessary. Guys, you’re wearing dress shoes or some sort of flat footwear. You cannot use this excuse to purchase the Uggs. Nor can you suggest that they’re great for cold weather. You’re not wearing skirts and tights outside. You’re actually pretty well-covered unless you’re skiing, and those boots are attached to the skis.

Again, your purchase is illogical.

I’m all for breaking through society’s assigned gender roles, and honestly I don’t think we should be controlled by the male-female dichotomy in every aspect of day-to-day life or anything. Ultimately, I wasn’t a Women’s Studies major for a reason. Some things I just can’t accept, and men in Uggs are at the top of the list, immediately followed by the man-pris you’ll see during sailing season.

Granted, for someone on the outside looking in, I had it made, and I’ll even admit I was super psyched when I first got the internship. Who wouldn’t want to work for a famous three-letter music television channel? As a silly little girl from Maryland whose favorite pastimes included uh, watching tumbleweeds blow and working at the local Dairy Queen (stop laughing), this internship was huge.

Having just finished my first year of college, (and mind you, worked my ass off) I was finally going to live in the big city free of parents, midterms, and tumbleweeds.

But now, here I was, first day and I already wanted to run back to mommy and maybe dip a cone or two. It was only eleven AM and my feet ached from running all over Manhattan fetching scones from this coffee shop and soy milk lattes from that café. I looked down at my Jessica Simpson gold pumps (on sale via Macy’s) which no longer seemed so posh next to the other intern’s (Sasha? Or maybe it was Sara’s?) Manolo Blahniks.

What had I gotten myself into? Things could not get any worse.

“Selma?” I looked up. Karen, the woman in charge of wardrobe was sneering down at me. “Uh, it’s Solmaaz…like Soul-ma-”

“Right, Selma we’re going to need you to pick up some dry cleaning.” It took everything in me to not roll my eyes. I’d obviously spoken too soon.

The internship all my friends had gushed over in glee, exclaiming that I’d meet this actor and that beautiful singer, that I’d finally get to meet James Franco, and that I’d end up in headlines: “Franco elopes with television intern during commercial break.” Yeah, that internship was a hoax. But I should’ve known. Why would such a famous successful company give a little awkward pigeon-toed girl a chance?

All I am to them is one less name on the payroll, a servant, a fool, a- “SELMA!” Gotta go. I’ll keep you posted, the dry cleaning awaits.

When I first heard that there would be a Sex and the City movie, my heart skipped a beat. I could not wait for the big screen continuation of our favorite gals who introduced our generation to pink cosmopolitans and Manolo Blahniks. What could be better than seeing the fab four reunited once again to give us just a few more juicy and inspirational quotes to put in our away messages?

Well, now that I really think about it, I might actually be against the movie coming out. What if it totally flops? Will SATC be a joke from then on? I feel we should let it’s glory live on in syndication. Nothing makes me happier than crawling into bed for a solid hour of SATC reruns at night. It was just too good to be repeated and I am worried that it’s too late to duplicate the magic now.

The movie may come sooner than you think. The most recent rumor is that shooting is set to begin in the fall, but actor Mario Cantone said that no one is officially signed on to the project yet.

Now, don’t get your hopes up for an exact movie release date. Rumors of the girls being reunited have been swirling around for awhile, and delays have been attributed to off screen drama between the quartet. Yet, different reports have been coming out over the past year saying that the movie is a go.

Will it actually happen? Only time will tell, but I have to say that I may rest easier if nothing comes of it and our four girls stay heroes for every aspiring trendy, modern, and urban girl out there.

Oh, and here’s one of my favorite Sex and the City quotes, just for old times sake…

“Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.”

-Carrie