Total Refinement at Isaac Mizrahi.

Now these just make me sad that Isaac is parting ways with Target, leaving us with no hope of a trickle-down effect...



Also, semi-related, if you've never seen Unzipped, the 1995 documentary about Isaac and his process, you should Netflix or your-preferred-method-of-DVD-rental it immediately because it is not only a fantastic view behind the scenes of the fashion world, it is also hilarious.

Victoria Beckham is lovely and ever so ladylike...

...I just wonder how Roland Mouret feels, having been so blatantly ripped off.

Pseudo-Goth at Rock and Republic.

I realize that it's a bit odd for someone who cultivates a classic look to have a a secret affinity for many things goth (well, goth-lite), but I can't seem to help it, and I don't even have a good excuse. Black on black on black, leather and lace, heavy metal hardware...you just wait until we get to Milan and I feel the need to post like, every single look from Burberry Prorsum. If I were ever to have the cocktail dress of my dreams custom-made, my only instructions to my collaborator would be "Gothic Fembot." Not very classic, I know, but there's a teeny-tiny part of me hidden deep down inside that yearns to be balls out (okay, really bad expression in this context but oh well), ultra-severe, super-sexy all the time. Like Gwyneth Paltrow's wardrobe recently, all black dresses so short that they shouldn't even rightly be called dresses, and stratospheric high heels? Makes me giddy and positively emerald with envy.

So I'm rather keen on a couple of looks from Rock and Republic. The first one for being for all black (becayse I see nothing wrong with wearing all-black year-round - they call it the fashion uniform because it looks great, after all) and owing much of its interest to an assortment of textures:


And the second for featuring what could pass as a spiderweb print very very close up - weird, but cool (and if you're going to do a spat-inspired shoe, this is how you do it, Abaete):

Obi-inspired belts all over the damn place.

I love a nice belt. You may have noticed. It's just that they are endlessly versatile and the absolute easiest way to turn a mediocre outfit into a fantastically figure-flattering, chic one. So I'm super excited to see belts still going strong on the spring runways, and even more so to see riffs on the traditional. Obi-style belts have shown up in several shows already, in a couple of different incarnations - big, exuberant sashes and bows at DKNY (God-awful shoes, though...they look like hiking boot-Skechers gone horribly awry):



And refined, tasseled belts at Tibi (I'm not so hot on the yellow-black combo, though...c'est un peu bumblebee, n'est-ce pas? Or the weird, Palm Beach-y print, for that matter, but...and wait, are those spats? Good Lord...):

Modern Retro at Abaete.

I wish I could figure out how to type an e with an accent aigue in Blogger. Then I could spell Abaete correctly, and also my own first name.


That said, I am simply smitten with the corset-referencing colorblocking on the simple sheath above, and the supershort, ultra-full skirted shirtdress below (also note the pattern, which is not just plaid as it appears at first glance, but something more geometric and chevron inspired). So pretty, so different, but still very classic.

Classic Comfort.

Ah, Mondays. It's hard enough to face the start of the new workweek when you didn't feel the need to accompany last night's new episode of Mad Men with a dirty vodka martini and one of the Virginia Slims Luxury Lights a friend left at your apartment a year ago because you were the only person present at the time who was immune to the urge to smoke (except, as it turns out, when watching Mad Men). Er, um, hypothetically.

I rotated my spring/summer wardrobe with my fall/winter one yesterday (and I deserved that drink for it, let me tell you) and as a result am absolutely dying to bring out several of my cold-weather favorites, but the weather outside is still summery and gorgeous and entirely ill suited to wool and velvet. For shame.

Instead of dressing for the season and not the weather, which I have been known to do because I am sometimes an obstinate and ridiculous human being, I decided to go with a simple gray cotton tank dress, a cropped knit cardigan, and black leather and cork wedges. The dress is basically a tee shirt dress, but the self-belt keeps the shape streamlined, and adding the cardigan adds a bit of visual interest.

Dress - James Perse
Cardigan - some random junior brand from AJ Wright (perish the thought that I am a total label whore!)
Wedges - Cole Haan

Fluid sophistication at BCBG.

Thanks to the ubiquitous presence of BCBG's wares at the now-closed Filene's Basement in Downtown Crossing (not to mention the fact that I worked at the Clinique counter at Filene's upstairs and was thus able to stalk the racks for bargains on a near-daily basis - who needs lunch when there are automatic markdown racks to be cherrypicked from?), there was a time when 1/3 to 1/2 of my wardrobe consisted of BCBG and its diffusion lines. Not so such these days - I've lost a lot of weight since college and have had to divest myself of my 8s and 10s and 12s, plus a brand really loses something in appeal when it's readily available at, say, Burlington Coat Factory. Still, I'd wear the above dress in a heartbeat - the draping gives it an effortless feel, and the gathered waist accentuates the female form and avoids the shapelessness all too common in Grecian-inspired pieces. And the shoes! I love how the heavy-soled, relatively unrefined shoe contrasts with the femininity of the dress.


This one, I might like even better. The color is beyond fantastic - I'm not big on the pastels that so often seem to be prevalent for spring, so I am just loving how so many designers are showing rich jewel tones this time around. The cut is just a little lower-key than the gray dress despite being considerably barer thanks to the simpler shape and the subtler drape. And the red bag against that saturated cobalt? Divine.

Looks like somebody may be putting her aversion to the Green Line aside so that she can check these out once they arrive in stores this winter...

Call of the Wild at Elie Tahari.

Once upon a time, I had a boyfriend who despised leopard print. This was something of a problem, because I've got nothing but love and kisses for leopard and most other animal prints. The truth came out on day when I made the error of simultaneously sporting leopard print flats, a black winter jacket lined in leopard print (which I firmly believe should not have been counted against me as I wasn't wearing the damn thing inside out) and leopard print gloves. I mean, what was I supposed to do, leave the shoes to hibernate through the winter? Let my hands freeze? I don't think so, pal.

To his eye, leopard print looked cheap in any incarnation. And while I agree that in many cases, it can be tawdry - when it's short, tight, shiny, and/or paired with Daisy Dukes, to name but a few of these - but in a well-made, classically cut garment, it can look downright elegant. This pencil skirt from Elie Tahari is irrefutable proof that I win in Renee and Andrew's Point/Counterpoint on Leopard Print.

(Not that it makes any difference now. It's a moo point. It's like a cow's opinion - it doesn't matter. He moved to Michigan for grad school, whereas I have no intention of ever stepping foot in the state exclusive of when I have to go to Detroit for work in October, which incidentally will be an adventure in incorporating, like, bulletproof garments into my work outfits.)

Anyway. I particularly adore this ensemble because it's a twist on one of my go-to looks. Blouse - check. High waisted pencil skirt - check. Belt at the waist - check. High heels and a distinctive piece of jewelry - check. I've never been much for white button-downs, but this one's crisp simplicity makes a great counterpoint to the wildness of the print below, and its relaxed fit tempers the va-va-voom factor. And I'm always a sucker for accessories with an ethnic bent. Best of all, you could take this same skirt, pair it with a tight black tank and a pair of Mexican or Indian influenced chandelier earrings, and there you'd have just the thing for drinks on a Saturday night.

TGIF.

I've got nothing for you clothes-wise today...it's a wonder that I even managed to get myself dressed this morning with the hangover I've got, and I wouldn't want to bore you with pictures of me in jeans and flip flops (leather, not rubber - I'm not that hung over...not that I even own rubber flip flops, because I threw them all in the garbage in a grandstanding anti-rubber flip flop gesture one day when I was feeling imperious). Last night I met up with my friend Gilian to celebrate her new job (and my getting to work with her!) with a pair of mint juleps and a whiskey smash at Eastern Standard, then had half a bottle of wine with dinner at La Voile, then met up my my roommates and an assortment of other random people for trivia (and beer, and tequila shots) at Razzie's. Once I finally got home, I hopped in the shower, and then proceeded to blow the electricity with my hair dryer. At like 2 in the morning. All I can say is it's a good thing I'm charming, because if I wasn't, my roommates would hate me and I'd have no friends. I woke up this morning at 6 with an epic cramp in my left calf (that's what I get for wearing 5-inch heels for, oh, 16 hours straight), and then again at 7:15 when my alarm went off at the exact same moment as my over-the-door shoe rack, which by the by is like the bane of my existence, collapsed, strewing 24 pairs of high heels across my bedroom and not doing a whole heck of a lot to make me want to get out of bed.

Anyway, I did and now here I am, quite the opposite of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but I am in a fabulous mood nonetheless because it today marks the start of fashion week! And who doesn't love fashion week? I'll be checking out the slideshows on Style.com each morning and updating daily with my favorite new looks. Here's hoping my computer is up to it, as the Spring 2008 slideshows somehow managed to precipitate the untimely death of my hard drive, leaving me computerless - at work, which completely negates the purpose of like, being at work - for two days. Although most of my coveted labels show in Europe, I am looking forward to Michael Kors, Diane von Furstenberg, and a few others.

Hence the Name.

Lest you wonder what the hell Modern Day Joan is supposed to refer to, allow me to introduce you to Ms. Joan Holloway:



Joan is a character on AMC's Mad Men, which, if you do not watch presently, you should begin to posthaste as it is the best, most stylish program ever in the history of television. I say this as someone who is mostly immune to the siren song of the tube (except where Law and Order and its spinoffs are involved), which I suppose could be taken as evidence that either A) I have no idea what I'm talking about because I have little basis for comparison, or B) this must be the case as it is the only show that has ever really hooked me, so to speak. Regardless, it is visually gorgeous and the attention to period detail is superb and the twisting, turning plotlines make me want to gasp and squeal and dissect their implications ad nauseum in internet forums.

Anyway. (You'll find that I like to digress. It's sort of my thing. Also, parentheses - don't say I didn't warn you.) Joan, as you can see, is the hotness. She's the head secretary at a Madison Avenue advertising firm in the early 1960s, and she is - how shall I put this? - a dish. (She's also, by the era's standards, a bit of a tramp, but I personally applaud her for her romantic proclivities because, let's face it, girl was just ahead of her time.) She dresses in the most fabulously form-fitting ensembles and her hourglass figure is so cartoonishly perfect that you just have to wonder whether there is padding involved in addition to the girdles and other rigorous support garments that were de riguer at the time. And her clothes themselves are nothing to shake a stick at: wiggle dresses, straight skirts, tight sweaters, glittery cocktail frocks all tailored to within an inch of their lives. And high heels - always, always high heels.

Joan, you see, is the basis, the jumping off point, if you will, of my aesthetic. Classic glamour. Simple sophistication. Silhouettes that showcase - nay, glorify - the feminine form. But I would hate to look like I'm in costume, so I take these timeless looks forward by mixing them with modern elements - a touch of rock and roll here, a bit of bohemian luxe there. Think two parts Joan, one part Kate Moss, with maybe a little Parisian twist (what can I say, I'm a bit of a Francophile), and voila - eclectically classic. Modern day Joan - c'est moi!

That's my fashion statement and I'm sticking to it.

Looks Like I Spoke Too Soon...

...because apparently we here in Boston have near-90 degree temperatures on deck through the end of the week. Sigh. And I was so looking forward to sweaterdresses and cigarette pants and shoes with closed toes. Oh well, I can wait. I dare say I am up to the challenge of putting together a few more days' worth of fashionable summer outfits.

I'm really tired of the babydoll look. As in, want to kill it and bury it forever tired, and I am saying this as one of a relatively small proportion of the population who is tall and thin enough to pull off the babydoll look. So: belts. Belts are a lifesaver for the excessively voluminous and the woefully undefined. They're some of the most frequently worn items in my wardrobe and I firmly believe every girl ought to have a handful at her disposal to pull almost any look from boring to bodacious.

Today, I took a cream linen shift dress from Old Navy that has a tendency to just sort of hang, and belted it with an old, old D-ring belt - the belt is designed to be worn at the hip, but by tucking the tail around and down, it holds in place just as it should. I debated on the shoe. The dress is short to begin with and rendered ever shorter by gathering it at the waist, but my favorite flat brown sandals wrap around the ankle and I don't always love my legs enough to do that to them. So I went for a chunky high-heeled brown sandal. I have a major predilection for chunky high-heeled brown sandals, which is a bit odd considering my style is generally much more streamlined. Somewhere deep inside me lives a bohemian just dying to get out, I guess. Anyway, the shoes, despite their height (a cool 5 inches...I just measured), are very I'm-not-trying-to-be-sexy, so the fact that I am trailing about a yard of leg right now, and at work no less, isn't such a big deal.

Dress - Old Navy
Belt - too old to be sure, which means probably some JCPenney store brand
Shoes - Michael by Michael Kors
Glasses - Prada (I'm-borderline-blind-glasses, not fashion-glasses)
All jewelry from Nomad, Cambridge

Hooray for Fall!

I have a confession to make: I think summer is overrated.

I will admit that that's a very broad statement to make about the fairest of the seasons. I do rather love many of its components, from the gloriously warm, sunny weather that allows for backyard barbecues and weekend trips to the beach to the more relaxed attitudes toward what constitutes an appropriate workweek. Fashion-wise, however, I am not a fan.

It's not that I don't like sundresses and tank tops and wedge-heeled sandals in and of themselves. I have a closetful, a bureauful, and a shoerackful of all of the above, respectively. (I truly don't like flip flops, though...call me a snob, but anything made out of rubber should never be worn out, period.) My issue is that it's very difficult to be stylish when it's too steamy to cover up. I'm a big believer that good outfits are in the details, and hot, humid weather doesn't always allow for a lot of details. Furthermore, ladylike style, which I am a particular fan of, is nigh upon impossible in the heat. Have you ever found yourself zipped into a high-waisted pencil skirt in 90-degree temperatures? If you haven't, you're lucky. I have and suffice it to say I did not enjoy it.

So I am endlessly pleased that September has rolled in and brought with it air that's a bit cooler, a bit crisper, and ever so well suited to dressing (and by dressing I mean dressing, not just putting on clothes). Maybe it's because I'm from rural New Hampshire, where autumn means that the leaves will change and, for a few gorgeous weeks, turn the region into a rust, red, and yellow-tinted paradise, but this is my absolute favorite time of year. I'm just itching for the day I can bring out my tights and sweaters and my mother's cordovan leather trench coat from the late 1970s and really start rocking the season.

Until then, here's to bridging the summer-fall gap with panache.

Ruched black top: ECI
Skirt: bottom half of a vintage peplum suit, late 1950s/early 1960s, Julius Garfickel & Co. via the fabulous but now defunct History (RIP)
T-strap heels: Tahari



(Sorry for the bad picture quality, my camera is on the fritz and it seems I have to make it work at work for the time being...)