NYC Fashion Observations

I was in NYC late last week running some errands (I'll upload a couple of photos in a bit).  It was a beautiful spring day, crisp in the shadow of tall buildings and warm in patches of sun.  Central Park was budding and the shop windows were filled with brightly-colored wares.  Everyone, it seemed, was turned out onto the sidewalk enjoying the lovely weather.  You get the picture.

Anyway, it gave me a chance to do quite a bit of observing, sartorially speaking.  My errands took me between Hermes on Madison down to Bergdorf's - a small stretch of land where quite a bit of well-heeled shopping takes place.  Except this time, I was shocked by the number of scuffed heels too.  It seems whilst everyone was ready to take in the spring weather, some had definitely lost the "spring" in their wardrobes.  Some of the most glaring things, that took away from otherwise what might have been quite chic personages...

1.  Shoes in Bad Repair
Most people were wearing black shoes.  I get it, it's a city, it's grimy, it's urban cool to wear black.  But when your *black* shoes start looking dirty - yes, it's time for a clean.  I was very surprised by the number of dirty, scuffed, or otherwise beat-up shoes some women were wearing.  Heels with the leather peeling off them - this on a woman with a Chanel bag too!  No matter what you have going on above the ankle, if the shoes are attracting unwanted attention it is a big miss in my book.

2.  Dirty Bags
I saw a very elegantly dressed woman walk passed me - classic double-breasted beige trench, grey pants, black ballerinas, big sunglasses and neat ponytail.  Very polished looking, except... her bag.  She was carrying an Hermes Garden Party tote in canvas and brown leather - which would have looked darling except on the front of it were yellow and orange stains that looked as if she had a run-in with a hot dog stand.

3.  Wearing All your "Best Stuff" (Logos) at Once
Granted, I think this was a group of tourists, but the principle still applies - you can overkill on the logos, people.  I know some people don't like logos of any sort.  I'm inclined to agree, but I have seen others carry off a logo-ed item here or there with panache.  But not EVERY logo, not all at once.  I think I can understand what the tourists were thinking: "Hey, we're going shopping to some posh places, let's make sure we dress up with our finest regalia."  But the Gucci sneakers, the Louis Vuitton bag, and the Fendi eyeglasses all at once?  My eyes, my eyes.

4.  The Fuzz
No, I'm not talking about the police.  I'm talking about fuzzles, lint, cat and dog hair, etc.  If it wasn't originally woven into your coat or sweater, it shouldn't be on there now.  Oh, and also it may be a beautiful cardigan but if it has enough pills under the arms to start a felting project - not cool.  Really, it's about basic garment care.  Maybe it got tiring and now that winter's almost over, people are just giving up.  But like other signs of disrepair or lack of care, it distracts from the person.

Actually, all of these observations could fall into one general category - If I'm too busy looking at "it" (whatever it is) that I can't notice you, you should fix "it", clean "it" or remove "it."* The coming of spring is a perfect time to review your cold-weather gear, and mend and clean before storage.

(*Gosh, I sound a bit snarky but I don't mean to be.  Somewhere in the blogosphere someone is probably writing about one of my fashion faux pas, unbeknownst to me... guess that's only fair.)

So, to end on a positive note I will share with you my favorite sartorial sighting during my brief vista.  A lady, in here late 60s or early 70s, petite but sturdy frame.  Confidently striding (yes, striding!) by the Apple Store in a neat black jacket with peplum styling.  A maroon skirt.  Sheer black stockings.  Sensible shoes but with a little platform wedge.  Classic, but modern.  Comfortable in her own skin.  She seemed to have a spirit about her, well, I can't quite put my finger on it but she was memorable and made me smile then, and now.  What a nice impression to leave, no?



  

The Boot Saga Has Ended

I have extraordinarily large calves (which I attribute to wearing heels during my more formative years because it certainly isn't from intensive sports), and these calves make it near impossible to find a fitting boot.

I have tried the typical solutions - the stretchy shaft variety (they shimmy down as I walk) and those labeled as "extra wide" (they don't fit either, and make me feel like a calve-giantess).

Then one day at Nordstrom's a kind sales associate, seeing my pain, kept bringing out boots until I felt like I had tried every one in the store.  The closest one to fitting was a Steve Madden slouchy black boot in a size 12 (I am a size 10).  They were not ideal, the style felt a little 80s and I was worried they wouldn't wear well.  But I was moving to Europe in a month, and I had heard it would be even more difficult to buy shoes in my size there.  They were a stop gap measure that ended up lasting almost 4 years of intensive wear. Who knew they would end up being the best cost-per-wear shoes I'd ever owned?

Similar at Steve Madden.com here

Last spring, a fatal tear developed in the toe that sent me on a boot search again.  I went back to Steve Madden, but I didn't want the slouchy style again - though passable, it just wasn't my style.  I decided to go bootless rather then settle, and figured the right pair would come into my life eventually.  (Or I could just wait for old age to start atrophying my leg muscles a bit, yes I considered this as a possible option.)

In preparing my shopping research for my Argentina trip, it dawned on me that I should try my boot hunt there.  After all, leather yardage would be plentiful and hopefully in sufficient quantity to swathe my calves.  I decided to try my luck at Arandu, a shop with its own craftsmen dedicated to the styles and customs of the Argentinian pampas/ countryside.  I liked the idea of being able to buy something not only locally made, but with an almost historical authenticity.

Upon entering the store, you are greeted with the warm smell of leather and the sight of a horse in full regalia:   

Polo and cowboy related items crowded the shelves - it's clear this is a shop for active horse-people who will use and abuse their gear.  Ralph Lauren may cater to the fantasy of this lifestyle, but this place is the real deal.

I am not a horse person per se - my motto is "Give me a horse with a strong back and a good disposition," - and I've only ridden twice.  So I immediately felt out of place and was getting ready to leave, if it weren't for the extremely kind and enthusiastic sales people who quickly put me at ease.  

I explained what I was looking for, with some difficultly, in Spanish (I kept saying I had enormous legs because I'd forgotten the word for calves!).  The sales person I was working with knew some English so between the two of us there was a lot of hand gesturing and nodding.

On a back wall in a closet-like space, rows and rows of boots of all styles and colors line up like little soldiers.  I sat down on a little stool and started trying various delectable styles on, but nothing quite fit.  Getting ready to leave with slumped shoulders, the sales person asked "When do you leave Argentina?"  "Not for a few days," I told him.  "I ask, I think we can make them for you."  

After some checking and consternation with other various people at the main desk, he came back to me to let me know that it would indeed be possible to get custom made boots.  Their workshop is in the country and they normally have once a week deliveries, but they were willing to send the boots to me by taxi so they would be there in time for my flight.

With a great deal of measuring, consultations and considerations, the size and fit were recorded, as was the style and leather of my choice.  The leather craftsman who would be working on my boot was rung up, and (this much I could translate from Spanish) was warned of my unusual calf sizing.  She recommended modifying the style to be slightly shorter, on the advice that the proportions might look off otherwise.  I left it in the hands of the experts, and thanked the sales associate profusely.  He said the sweetest thing too - that he really wanted to make it happen for me, because his girlfriend has large calves and he thinks it's unfair she has such a hard time finding boots that fit.  He didn't want me to leave Argentina disappointed.  

In just two days - late on the night before our flight - a pair of handmade custom boots arrived miraculously at our hotel's front desk.  Needless to say, there was quite a bit of prancing as I pulled on the boots over my pajamas to test them out immediately.  

Here they are at home:

Hand-waxed cow leather, they have this burnished effect and a slightly red almost cordovan hue.

I love the little details, like the interior boot straps, the number/signature of the craftsman who made them and the little metal toe taps.  And of course the memory of how they came into my closet.  

 

Hey, I Put Some Nude Shoes On...

I have been humming this Paolo Nutini song to myself all morning, and I've just figured out why.  I've received my new nude shoes today, and I am terribly excited.

I have been looking for nude shoes as long as I can remember.  It started sometime in high school, and has gone unresolved for...  Well anyway, it's been a long, LONG time.  Sometimes, I find a shoe that will just about sort of do it, but it never quite fit all my requirements for color, form or fit.

(You can read my far too long justification on why I wold spend years searching for the perfect shoe, or skip down to the photo at the bottom - your choice. :)  )

When I did my major closet overhaul, I rid myself of all the shoes which were my not-quite-perfects, the impracticals and the painfuls.  In the mix was about 10 pairs of one-hit wonder shoes purchased just so they could go with one specific outfit in that particular color.  That included the hot pink slides, lime green sandals, teal snakeskin pumps, cute but money-wasters one and all.   And then there were a pile of the sort of nude shoes that, because each failed in some way, I apparently needed all of them to cobble together my outfits.  I had a light ivory d'Orsay, a casual nude slingback, a tan mule with lots of gold hardware... none fit my needs exactly.  I knew that if I had the one perfect nude shoe, I could wear it with with just about anything, including otherwise hard-to-match challenges like floral dresses or prints.

Here was my list of requirements for The Perfect Nude Shoe:

1. The nude color had to closely approximate my skintone.  Off-white, light peach, soft grey, and variations of tan just wouldn't do.  The whole point of the nude shoe is to elongate your leg and simplify your look - a strikingly different color would just defeat the purpose.

2. The shoe had to have a heel, but be walkable.  Heel to make the calf look nice and be suitable for dresses and skirts, but not so high that they allowed me only to hobble from taxi to restaurant door.  (I've learned I have less fun and I am less fun in shoes that hobble me.)

3. No open toes, as I wanted this shoe to be seasonless and go just about anywhere.  If it screamed summer or strappy cocktail sandal, it wouldn't be flexible enough to be my real one and only go to.

4.  Minimal to no texture and hardware - especially gold.  (I've recently sold off my gold jewelry and most gold hardware bags as I just don't wear them, and so I didn't want to go down that road again.)

5.  Clean elegant lines - the end result shouldn't say, "wow look at those shoes!" but instead meld into the whole ensemble.  At the same time, I also believe basics should be fundamentally interesting.  Something can be too plain, and then it's not a joy to look at or own, right?  

6.  And be comfortable!  Because I have round little balls for feet (read: wide!), this meant my foot couldn't feel like a trussed ham in a tangle of straps.  This perhaps of all was my most difficult challenge, as I found a lot of styles made my foot look just horrible and feel like it too.

Now you can probably guess why I've had such a hard time finding the right pair.  Especially as I can see contradictions within my own requirements!

In my search, I wore down even the most determined shoppers who have tried in vain to help.  They put a man on the moon, surely I can find a pair of shoes, no?   I just didn't want to settle for less, and spend money on another shelf full of almost-rights.

Fast forward to this spring, and all the color-blocking trends meant nude shoes were everywhere.  I finally thought my time had come, and was determined to have a pair come home with me.  My sales associate at Neiman Marcus brought out a stack of nudes from my favorite designers.  Each broke one of my requirements in one way or another.  Finally, I tried on the YSL Tribute Sandal in nude.  It was so-so, but I harbored a secret desire to have a pair anyway, and besides, the color was right.  I brought them home.  I periodically tried them on, and then put them back in the box.  They had open toes, straps, platforms, and made my feet look like the aforementioned trussed hams.  Oh, and all I could do was totter around on thick carpet.  Back to the store they went.

The YSL Tribute fail reminded me that I needed to be patient and stick to the list.  Just because all the fashionistas are wearing them doesn't mean they will work for me.  (And I thought I was over that already - oh, well!)  Besides, that much money on a pair of shoes I can't even walk in?  I have to draw the line.

About a month ago, I went back to Neiman Marcus for their First Call sale.  I cruised the sales rack and tried on a bunch of shoes I'd normally never think of trying.  I generally know what will work for my foot and what doesn't, and which designers are cruel to wide feet.  Among them, Christian Louboutin is no friend of mine.  Even before they were super-popular, I admired the quality and workmanship but just could not stuff my feet into his designs.  There, on the rack, a pair of CLs in a lovely nude color and odd diagonal cut that said, "come on and try me."  So I did.  And they were perfect.  Huzzzah!!

Simple but interesting, walkable, elegant, go-with-anything nude shoes, and until I had put them on my feet, I had no idea they would work for me.  I thought the diagonal cutout would not suit me, but it was just the opposite.  The only downside?  Slippery soles.  Luckily, my sales associate knew a place and had them sent off for a bit of red rubber soling.  Today, they are back in my arms, and I am over the moon excited!  May I introduce to you my Perfect Nude Shoe:

CL Newton 70 Nappa Beige with Silver Heel (On Sale Too!)

What have you invested time in hunting for just the perfect _______?  Did you give up?  Did you persevere?  If you are still on the search, good luck!



P.S. Click here to listen to Paolo Nutini's "New Shoes," but don't blame me if you can't get it out of your hear afterwards, you were fairly warned.