Friday, June 26, 2009

Countdown to September 13

As much as I love Target, I have never been able to shop their clothing section (I know, I'm a terrible Minneapolite), that is, until now.

The lookbook for Anna Sui's Gossip-Girl inspired line for Target (available September 13) leaked this morning on NewYorkMag.com, and I was shocked.

I have always approached the high-end designer for low (low)-end price lines for Target with mixed feelings. I almost bought a bag from the Hayden-Harnett line, but my dilly-dallying about whether or not I wanted to buy a bag that not only everyone else would have, but that even those that didn't would know was PVC, left me with almost no selection. I'm glad Target (and the designers) are willing to offer the masses access to labels, but to me, most of the luster of wearing a designer dress is lost when everyone else is too. I will pay $300 plus for a dress because I know it will be the only one for miles around my closet.

But for this line, I don't care. I want them all. Yes. All. Or at least all of the Blair ones, and maybe even a Jenny and Serena. Vanessa has never been my style, so I won't pass judgment.

My favs are #'s 3, 5, 8, 17. Take a look at the slideshow, and let me know what yours are in the comments!

P.S. If you like them, you better be waiting in line, because for Target prices I might just buy every single one off the rack to ensure exclusivity. I think Blair would approve.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Where were you?

I was sitting at Happy Hour at Brits. I was in a bar when I heard the King of Pop died. And good thing too. The death of Michael Jackson deserved a toast (or five).

The regularly planned schedule of this blog was supposed to be a recounting of the HH with some fun new friends, but really the only thing that comes to mind about my night is thinking how weird it is that Michael Jackson doesn't exist in the same world I do anymore.

It's not that he had a huge effect on my life, or that I listened to his music everyday, or that I even really respected him all that much (the child abuse turns me off).

But, I will never forget my high school marching band's rendition of Thriller, out on the football field, and even the tubas were dancing along.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Admit it...You Know You Watched It

I can admit it: I watched NYC Prep last night. And you know you did too. (To save myself some dignity, I watched the 11 p.m. replay, not the first 9 p.m. showing.)

I read the reviews that said while the show was good, it was good in the “Oh wow… these kids are so ridiculous you just have to laugh so you don’t cry” way. And well… they were right.

Here’s my personal thoughts on each character (along with what Gossip Girl character they are imitating, because we all know this is Bravo’s GG rip-off):

Jessie: One part Serena’s hair, two parts Blair’s attitude, and one part Little J’s lust for fashion. Out of all the characters, I felt like she had the most reason to be on a the show. A senior with some level of maturity, she is trying to further herself from the high school scene and has some realization that the world doesn’t revolve around her AmEX Black (she even admits self-loathingly in the season preview that she doesn’t really know how much she spends each month.)

PC: One hundred percent Nate Archibald. He used to date Jessie, but now they are just good friends. Now he’s taking the younger girls under his wing. Only a matter of time before we find out his dad embezzled millions (billions?) and fled the country.

Sebastian: I seem glimmers of a Chuck Bass, and it’s obvious that’s who Bravo wants him to be, but at the core he’s 16 and just trying too hard. A common theme with many of the characters, the whole show he seemed like he was being forced by the producers into a new grown-up world and would rather be at home playing his Xbox and chatting with girls on AIM.

Kelli: Equal parts Blair and Little J. She has the authoritative attitude, but lacks the age to back it up. After Jessie, she seemed the most comfortable in her surroundings, but then again her old surroundings were nothing normal. She lives with her brother, sans parents, on the Upper East Side, and so the dinners out at fancy restaurants and event-going was nothing new to the girl with no one to make her do her homework.

Camille: If there were a sweet character in Gossip Girl, maybe Little J, she would be it. This innocent junior is focused on getting into Harvard, running a company, and having two girls and a husband by the time she’s 40 (talk about a 20 year plan). However, she was also the girl who was trying way too hard the whole time. “What Hampton do you have a house in?” she asked PC right after being introduced. Le sigh. She should know… PC has two houses in two different Hamptons.

Taylor: This poor girl is another Little J imitation. Grew up in a public school on the Upper West Side, has a mom who actually cares about her and what she does (gasp), and is trying desperately to break in to the Prep School Elite. As a fellow girl trying to break into a new social scene, I empathize with her, but unlike other newbies, Taylor defines “social climber.” Instead of falling into the scene through a connection, Taylor seems to be inserting herself into the Upper East Side for no real reason at all. Much like Sebastian, she gives off the vibe in most of her scenes that she would rather be downtown watching TiVo than Uptown hoping one of her “friends” will pick up her dinner tab for her.

Overall, a few other things annoyed me about the show:

- The BlackBerries going off every five minutes. This made it seem like the producers were trying too hard to prove to the audience these kids were “somebodies.” Yes, we know they are NYC prepsters with tons of connections and money, stop trying to prove it with annoying ring tones in every scene.

- Sebastian constantly saying in every interview how he is “too young for just one girl” and “Why have a relationship when you can hook up with lots of different girls?” Another instance of the producers trying too hard to characterize the cast.

- The idea that all of these kids have fake I.D.s and get away with it. Taylor is 15, and there is no bouncer in NYC that would ever mistake her for 21. Camille? PC was right when he asked them if she was 12 years old. If the producers are going to arrange for them to get into clubs for the sake of TV, fine, but don’t try to fool us.

So…what did you guys think of NYC Prep? Will you watch it again? Pour moi, I might partake in one more episode (or them all). Everyone needs a guilty pleasure.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

I'm a Twin Cities Scenester!

Just a quick note today... but everyone should check out my post on Glamorama's announcement that Ne-Yo will be performing at TwinCityScene.com!

I am going to try to do regular posts for TCS on events, fashion and other things social, so be sure to look for me there.

I am also hoping to direct some traffic to this blog through them as well, so if you found me through TCS, welcome!

Monday, June 22, 2009

A Socialite's Weekend...Or Not

This weekend looked good for stepping out in the social-lite, but the best laid plans...

Thursday had me hopeful after the Vita.MN poolside show. My fashion-show buddy and I were a bit shocked at the sheer number of people (we expected a more intimate setting) but we took our row two seats at the end of the runway and tried to stay away from the masses, and the girl who backstabbed me in college standing (yes, HA!, standing) less than five feet away the whole show (except for when she and her friend tried to take two front row seats that were quickly claimed by people who actually paid for them.)

I adored so many of the looks they showed, it is going to be hard to narrow it down to just a few, but here are my favorites (all pictures taken by Alex Uncapher and provided by Vita.MN):

See what I mean? Masses of people.

The cover look. Love the pink top.

Absolutely Audrey.

So socialite.

Emily Weich design. I'm heading to Cliche this week to pick it up!
Perfect summer work attire.
Loving this Max Lorbach.

The teal and navy color combination was my favorite of the night!


I would have loved to stay for the after-party, but with a dermatologist appointment at 8 a.m., I wanted to keep my skin as fresh and non-boozy as possible.

Friday I had planned to spend the day with my mom, but some current family drama changed my plans, and so the BF and I spent the evening shopping for Father’s Day presents and dining with friends. Another early night for an early morning of…

Car shopping. Yes, that’s right. I spent my Saturday dealing with skeezy car salesman for my BF. Another greatest girlfriend ever award goes to Minneapolite. We test drove six cars at four different dealerships, and found a few that we liked. My favorite was the Acura TL, but BF didn’t see the point of spending extra money for useless toys (see how much I have to teach him?). He didn’t buy anything, so this week I am searching online for a TL with a few less bells and whistles and a better price.

Saturday night I was hoping to convince BF the Symphony Ball was the way to go, but nu uh, we were headed to the Hennepin County Fair and the demolition derby. Socialite ranking just plummeted. Although I spent most of the evening trying to cover my face (both from being seen and the mud flying everywhere), I did enjoy the crunching sounds of cars crashing just a bit. But not much. We also had a classic romantic moment when we took our post-derby Ferris Wheel ride and the fireworks started just as we reached the top. Cue the “ahhh”s and the sappy music.

Sunday was Father’s Day, and I spent the day with BF’s family watching the Open and eating hamburgers.

So the socialite ranking this weekend was low…but I still had (some) fun. There is always next weekend.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

You Look New

Yesterday I promised a review of the production of “Singin’ In the Rain” I attended last night. While the play was wonderful and worthy of praise, my experiences with my fellow theater-goers inspired today’s post on a completely different topic: People who have no manners.

To give the people who sat around me last night the benefit of the doubt, it may have been their first time in a theater (or at least, I hope it was). I recognize that many people may not have had the opportunity to grow up going to plays and musicals, and therefore might not know what to wear, how to conduct themselves, etc. However… the rudeness of some of the people who sat near me last night was disgraceful, and in my humble opinion, completely out of line for even the most ignorant person.

I’ll start with the more petty things that probably only annoy me, and then work my way up.

BF and I almost arrived late to the show, and the curtain rose less than a minute after we took our seats. Just enough time to scope out the dress of those around me. Part of me wishes we had arrived two minutes later. The woman next to me wore flip-flops, and we’re not talking cute sandals, we’re talking worn out rubber flip-flops a la Target. I would have forgiven the shoe choice if not for her pick of dress, an ankle length brown rayon shirtdress. The couple on BF’s side was in jeans and nice shirts, not bad, except for the girl had a nice big knee patch on one leg. Finally, a young man sitting behind us was wearing a hoodie, ripped jeans, and tennis shoes, which BF had to politely ask him to take off of the top of his seat before he sat down. Call me snobby, but where do these people think they are? The Ordway isn’t owned by AMC, people.

Once the play began however, the real fun started. During the introduction of characters, a couple two rows in front of us (I later found out they were also wearing jeans and a jersey dress) began catcalling, whooping, and yelling for one character in particular. I assume they knew the actor, but if they did, they should have known better than to interrupt the play with their antics. Once again, Singin’ In the Rain isn’t a Vikings game.

Next, the two women sitting behind me started up. They talked THE WHOLE SHOW. And if they weren’t complaining about how bad their seats were (we were in great seats), they were howling with laughter that I swear people must have heard all the way in Rice Park. I finally glanced back at them with a look that said “please be quiet,” but rather than hush up they just got louder, now complaining about the “tight a** b$%*h sitting in front of them. Lovely.

The incident that took the cake came at intermission. The two chatter-birds behind me came in after BF and I had returned from our drinks, complaining very loudly about the “door Nazi” that wouldn’t let them bring their chocolate cake in the theater. Personally, with as slobby and loud as they were being, I wouldn’t let them have chocolate cake in the first place, much less bring it into the theater where they no doubt would smack their lips and spill crumbs all through the second act. Two seconds after they sat down, a man in a tuxedo walked by carrying some form of an alcoholic drink, and then they really started in.

“Did you see that? He has a drink! Oh My God! Why does he get a drink? We didn’t get our chocolate cake! What is this? Hummph”

Part of me almost turned around to politely tell them that when you dress and act appropriately for your surroundings, you would be surprised at what you can get away with, but I kept it to myself and endured the second act with them now complaining about how they would never come again and be “treated like this.”

Thank god.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Why You Should Never Go Shopping Without Your Umbrella

Yesterday morning I forgot to check weather.com, and I paid for it.

I left work to go run some errands a little after 4 p.m. downtown, but rather than go retrieve my car I decided to use public transportation because all of my destinations were located right on convenient bus lines. I skywayed it to my bus stop, and then stayed closely under the awning of the building while I waited. I wasn't too worried-- it was barely drizzling.

Then I got off the bus into a torrential downpour. Running in four inch heels is hard when the sidewalk is dry, and near impossible when you have to run up steps on wet pavement, all the while trying to cover your dry-clean-only ensemble and prevent your phone from getting wet inside your tote. Success was impossible.

I finished one errand and continued on to the next in a less torrential but still downpour rain. By this time I had given up on running, and turned my attention to coverage. Imagine a miserable Minneapolite desperately trying to keep her handbag closed under her arm, hunched over in vain to protect her dress and you have a good mental image of me.

After errand number two I had planned on going shopping at Cliche to pick something up for the Poolside Fashion Show. I knew it was probably a bad idea given the disarray of my hair and makeup, but I forged ahead, promising myself I would only decide on a frock from the neck down.

Although I failed in my promise and depressed myself with every glance in the mirror, I did come away with a lovely piece by Emily Weich! I am so excited to wear it tomorrow night (as long as the show isn't rained out!).

On the dance card for tonight is Singin' In the Rain at the Ordway! I am dragging BF along, and it will be his first live musical (that doesn't involve puppets). As fate would have it, Singin' In the Rain was my first live musical too, many many years ago. It has remained one of my favs and I was ecstatic when I got tickets.

Back tomorrow with a review (of course) and more anticipation of the Poolside Fashion Show (fingers crossed).

In the meantime, what is everyone else's favorite plays or musicals? Any special memories related to the theater? Commentter s'il vous plait!

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Review: Cliche

Next on my list of authentically Minneapolis (and St. Paul) places to visit was Cliche. I should feel ashamed for never visiting the fabulous boutique until last week, but its inaccessibility by public transportation made that hard until I bought my car this month.

After a few minutes in the shop I realized my error. Cliche is well worth a few transfers and a small walk. At first I was a little flustered at the racks upon racks of clothes, dreading the flick-through that would only reap a few alright pieces. I was amazed when I loved every single piece I saw on rack number one, and continued to find gem upon gem in later racks.

Another concern that was quickly relieved was the quality of the local designer pieces. While I had seen a few lines during MN Fashion Week, I was worried about how they would transfer to ready-to-wear and if they would be quality enough to stay intact for longer than a runway walk. Designers such as Emily Weich and Carmichael Claith immediately stood out to my feminine and whimsical eye, although it was hard to discern them from the many other fabulous pieces I saw.

Not only was the selection plenty and the goods quality, the prices were right! The tags on lovely frocks and tops were much more reasonable than their New York-counterparts (as much as I love them). While last week's trip was strictly research, I am headed back today with my credit card armed and ready.

I hope an adorable pink dress by designer Emily Weich is still available. I am hoping to wear it to the Poolside Fashion Show this Thursday night! Who will I be seeing there and, more importantly, what will you be wearing?

Monday, June 15, 2009

Sunday Disaster

As much as I love BF, he can get me into some pretty miserable and disastrous situations. Take yesterday for example:

I woke up in the late morning to BF poking and prodding me, asking "when are we going to play outside" like the 4-year-old I know he is. I finally woke up enough to agree to go biking, which in retrospect was only achieved because of my hindered, half-asleep mental capacity. Fully awake with all engines running- biking never would have happened.

So after curling my ponytail and cuffing my pants, off we went to BF's parent's house to pick up the bikes. After visiting for a while we threw the bikes in the trailer and headed off to the Luce Line. Despite living within a five mile radius of the trail for most of my life, I have never biked/walked/ran/anything on it, so I was excited and felt like it was a great opportunity to keep with my goal of exploring my city this summer.

A mile or so down the trail we see a sign that tells us we only have three miles to go until we reach Medicine Lake and a turnoff for French Park. While I'm not in great shape, three miles seems easy, so I yell ahead to BF (who is easily surpassing me, that fit jerk) that it would be fun to head to French Park where we can stop and get an ice-cream sandwich before heading back. Leave it to me, even when I'm exercising all I think about is treats.

BF is excited that I am willing to go a bit farther than the original plan of turning around at Medicine Lake, so we speed ahead together- me racing for my ice cream, him just because. (Have I mentioned how much really in-shape people bother me yet?) Finally we make it to Medicine Lake, and even though there is a nagging part of me that knows French Park is still a ways off, we continue on.

ALMOST THREE MILES LATER! We finally make it to French Park. By this point in time I'm not sure if I'm huffing because I am having an asthma attack or a rage attack. So much for a leisurely bike ride along the Luce Line. We stop for ice cream (I was getting my ice cream!), and then get back on the bikes, going around the lake because BF thinks it will be faster than going back the way we came. I suppose it was about the same, very long, length.

We hopped back on the Luce Line about 2 or 3 miles later, and I am so excited. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I am speeding along faster than ever just trying to end this miserable experience. About a mile down the Luce Line, I hear a loud shout from behind me. A quick glance back shows BF stopped and off his bike a ways back, looking down at his pedals. I grudgingly bike back to him, where he tells me his pedal has fallen off his bike. Could this be any more disastrous?

Suffice to say, BF runs with his bike the remaining two and a half miles. Even though he's fit I still felt bad, and at the realization that someone else was in a worse situation than me I stayed faithfully by his side the rest of the ride, pumping him up and making sure he was ok.

We collapse back into his car and start recovering, guzzling the water bottles we left in the car due to a lack of holders on the bikes. Although a miserable experience I don't want to repeat, both of us are fine, minus a really, achingly sore behind pour moi.

Has anyone else ever had a bad exercising experience? I know they are out there...leave 'em in the comments!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Via's Vintage Review

One of my goals for this summer is to get out of my mall and department store comfort zone and explore the many independent boutiques and vintage shops around the metro area. I hope to visit one new shop each week, and of course document my travels here!

The first place on my list was Via's Vintage. Not too far away from BF's apartment, I walked over there one afternoon last week and was excited for my first vintage experience.

While the store was quirky and fun to walk into, I was somewhat disappointed in the amount of selection available. For such a big store on the inside, there was a lot of empty space.

I understand however that vintage stores are completely vulnerable to what people choose to bring in and what they can randomly find, so I was willing to forgive a small selection as long as what was there was fabulous.

So, was it fabulous? I will say it had promise. While I didn't find anything to spend my money on, I got a vibe that if I start stopping by every so often I might just happen upon something amazing.

The honest truth: I found a few amazing pieces that I was very excited about, until I realized they were on the wrong size rack and would swallow me whole. For such a small selection, I was disappointed the clothes were so unorganized. The worst feeling a shopper can get is finding something they love and then realizing it was put back in the wrong place and would never fit. Especially in a vintage store where everything is one-of-a-kind, it was disheartening.

This week I am hoping to make my way over to Cliche. I might even stop by tonight to see if I can find something for their fashion show tomorrow!

Monday, June 8, 2009

Review: The Melting Pot

Friday night was double-date night for me, the BF, and one of our best couple friends. We had been trying to get together and go out to MP for awhile and finally secured a reservation downtown last week.

I had always been a mild fan of fondue, gladly accepting when invited to fondue parties or dinners, but have never planned or made my own. BF had never even heard of it before (he needs some grooming, yes), but was excited nonetheless.

After finally figuring out the menu, we opted for the "Big Night Out", a four-course event with cheese, entree, and dessert fondue and a salad.

The food was amazing. Fortunately (or unfortunately), they give you plenty of dippings so you can keep eating and eating. By the end of the entree course, I was stuffed. But not stuffed enough to forgo chocolate, and one s'more-filled fondue pot later I was done. While the food was heaven, it was exhasuting. I had been hoping for a little bar-hopping post meal, but the entire group was ready to turn in after expending all our energy eating.

Oh well. It was worth it.

While fabulous, I'm still not sure it will be a regular occurence. Rarely do I endulge so much, and I don't think my waistline could handle much more than a trip every six months or so. Save it for special occasions.

Oh, and the bathrooms? B- I was hopeful, but upon walking in I saw paper strewn all over the floor, enough so I had to look behind me on the way out. It was saved somewhat though with the nicely presented linen towels for hand-washing and incredible all-over marble decor. At least for now, not a deal-breaker.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Restaurant Deal Breakers

While not food-savy enough to comment on menus, I still like to consider myself a restaurant critic. Instead of commenting on the latest tasting menu or new addition of Kobe beef (I am ADDICTED to Kobe beef) though, I keep my critiques much more superficial: the bathrooms.

No matter the décor or wonderful plates that land on my table, any meal spent at a restaurant can be ruined if my trip to the lady’s room isn’t satisfactory.

A dirty toilet? I’m never coming back. Toilet paper on the floor? Last time I checked I don’t eat at dive bars. No paper towels so I am forced to wipe my hands on my designer frock or waste 10 minutes under a dryer? My food is getting cold.

But, if a restaurant shows me a nice, spacious, decorated bathroom with well-lit mirrors, linen napkins to dry my hands, and maybe even a couch to wait for my girls on then it is automatically vaulted to my “must-return” list, even if the food is sub-par.

It may sound naïve, but when I’m out at night I need a place where I feel comfortable freshening up before going outside and facing the barrage of men (and women) who only critique my every feature. Standing crammed next to five other women under fluorescent lights that only accentuate the flaws never gives me the self-esteem boost I need.

What do you think? Does anyone else have any weird or unorthodox deal breakers when it comes to venue choice?

Also, be sure to look for my review of the Melting Pot this weekend. I am double-dating there tomorrow night and am very excited. Hopefully the bathrooms are spotless!

Monday, June 1, 2009

A Socialite's Home and Life Lessons for the Week

Last week, while culminating in painful speeches at my younger brother's high school graduation, was mostly filled with the task I hate the most: moving.

Not only was it moving myself (bad enough), but it was moving BF. BF is finally growing up, and when his roommate took a job out-of-state, I finally convinced him he finally decided to live on his own. I am so proud of my all-grown-up BF, but unfortunately that left him without a moving buddy. So out of gratitude for no longer having to check the hallway before going to/from the bathroom at night, I volunteered. Because I am just that lovely.

However, an hour and a half into scrubbing the stove (no bigger than two feet by three feet), I was severely regretting my decision. Eight hours spent dusting, mopping, vacuuming, and scrubbing quickly shows you why Merry Maids is such a successful operation. Not only does Soft Scrub ruin a manicure, it also left pink blotches on my light-blue cotton tee I wore for the occasion. Ten points for me finally getting the old apartment move-out ready, minus 20 for my ruined Gap t-shirt.

After scrubbing until my hands were raw, it was time to pack. After two years of coming home late and passing out, BF had junk strewn all over the small penthouse. While a lot of it was in garbage bags due to pre-move cleaning, we still had to devote two or three "junk boxes" to various documents, receipts, movies, books, etc. Someday, I swear I will have no such thing as a "junk box."

While I didn't do any heavy lifting, I was responsible for the small boxes and miscellaneous suitcases. Four hours of walking up and down stairs was miserable, but finally done. Life lesson #2: Movers are also in business for a reason.

Currently the new apartment looks like a storage unit with boxes and suitcases strewn about the living room and the mattress still on the floor, a blanket haphazardly thrown across the top. However, now the fun part begins. Decorating.

BF, now a big boy, is ready for new furniture, wall ornaments, and other various items that go along with a well-styled home. This is one part of moving I will never hire out. While I would love to spend a few days with my account manager at Gabberts, BF's "cost-concious" attitude about his new but not permanent home leads me to IKEA. As long as he gets new bedsheets (ok, and a few other items), that's fine with me. Here are a few things I am hoping to pick up on a trip to the big blue buidling this weekend:


I know...long list. But hopefully a long list will also lead to a long list of actual purchases. I'll let you know. (All images are from IKEA.com, except for the lovely crisp bedspread, which is from Target.com.)

What about you, lovely reader? What are your favorite parts about moving to a new place? Do you also dream of one day leaving everything old in the old and re-buying everything new for the new?

I leave you with my dream come true, complete with Carolina Herrera, dogs, and fabulous lifestyle:
Photo: Douglas Friedman for Harper's Bazaar