Made in Dade

It's no secret that I liken myself to a bit of a Carrie Bradshaw. I live in New York City, I'm a writer, I live for fashion, and I'm single. I think it's safe to say that the similarities end there, but nevertheless, I feel myself channelling her from time to time when I'm in bed with my laptop.

Carrie popularized a number of items: the flower pin, Christian Louboutins, and visible bra straps. One of her most notable accessories, however, was the Carrie necklace.



I never thought much of this; I'm more of a monogram girl. I do like that it's slightly ironic. As Charlotte York once said, there is more to being Jewish than jewelry, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a prominent part of our culture. I grew up around people in the jewelry business; my mother is a designer and has the belief that too much is never enough.

My own jewelry theory is incredibly low key. I think part of the reason that I love my Cartier Love bracelet so much is that it doesn't come off. I never have to worry about losing it. I'm constantly searching for something that feels like mine. While shopping with my parents this past Saturday at Henri Bendel, I finally found my version of the Carrie necklace.



While perusing the many glass cases, my father pointed out a row of area codes adorned to silver chains. Without missing a beat, I hastily shouted, "I WANT 305!" We scanned across the line and with within seconds my eyes were met with that beautiful combination of digits. Within moments, it was mine and around my neck.

For those of you who don't know, 305 is the (original) area code for Miami. I was born and raised there and my heart aches for it a little bit every day. Back when Lilly first opened up shop, 305 was also the area code for Palm Beach. (The Southern preppy capital now shares an area code with Boca. Tragic.) Dade County now has several area codes, but 305 will always be the first.

It used to be both cool and prestigious to say that you were from Miami, and now I'm not so sure. I haven't lived there in ten years, and the city seems have to have changed for the worse in my absence. My memories, however, remain clear and delightful. I had the most amazing and privileged childhood and I wouldn't trade a single second of it for anything.

This is such a fun piece and I love wearing it. It's the tiniest bit ghetto in a cute way, but then again, so is Miami.

Add this to the glossary: Recessionista

While Bromance will always be at the top of my own person lexicon list, I can't help but fall for a new non-Webster word from time to time. (If you're new to JGIWC, please check out my glossary.) These days, people are getting more creative than usual, and it's always interesting to see what turns up. While pursing one of my many monthly magazines, I came across a new word, so correct, so time appropriate, and so dead on that I knew I had to share.

Recessionista: n. A person who dresses stylishly on a tight budget. (The definition I came across differed slightly; this one was obtained from Wordspy.

Apparently I'm late to the party (per usual) and this term has been circulating for several months, but Friday was the first time I had heard of it. These may be tough times, but it's still possible to be fashionable without becoming one of those girls on MTV's "True Life: I'm a Compulsive Shopper". Here's how.

1) Read! Magazines, newspapers, and online journals keep you alert of what's going on. Half of having style is knowing what's in and being able to talk about it. Pass yours on after you're done reading and make sure your friends do the same. Knowledge is power.

2) Network. While holiday shopping in one of my very favorite stores, Kate Spade (did you know that Kate and I are sorority sisters?), the sales associate ticked off on her fingers to my father and I which stores were having sales and what sort of specials they were offering. (We didn't even ask!) Talk to everyone you encounter. You'll be surprised what you hear. People want to spread the word.

3) Sign up... for Top Button, Daily Candy, and Rue La La.

4) Know people in high places. Both of my parents are in fashion. My father runs an eyewear company and my mother is a design director. Both work with and know many big names in the industry. This means many perks for TAG, which I make sure to share with some of my favorite people.

4.5) Become one of my favorite people.

5) Choose your friends wisely. AEG procured the below Lilly tennis racquet cover for me. Dollface, I know! Isn't it darling? I can't wait to get out on the court come Spring.



I know that my savvy readers are probably already well-informed of the above, but a reminder never hurts. Take it from a starving artist. "Fabulous" and "Recessionista" CAN go hand-in-hand. Promise.

The boys are back in town (and so is Kappa Prep!)

I can't believe it's over! Another season of Entourage has come and gone, and I thought it was disappointing to say the least. In typical TAG fashion, I am old-school and almost all of my favorite episodes are in either S1 or S2. (I believe that series are almost always at their best at the beginning with the exception of Sex and the City.) I used to own both DVDs but I lent out S1 to a friend and S2 became one of the many casualties in my move from Florida to New York. Now I just wait patiently for In Demand to feature these.

In typical HBO fashion, they really did save the best for last. This season has a few great scenes (Ari marching into his old agency and singing, "I'm ba-ack" being my personal favorite) and a few good lines, ("Because the Jew has arrived and he doesn't like Germans") but tonight's episode was the only one I've really loved. It was classic Entourage. The guys have a crisis, they fight, the crisis is averted, they make up and drink. Perfection.

I loved watching the guys in New York. I loved the subtle humor (a street pedestrian screaming "VICTORY!" to Drama, his name in tiny letters on Vince's big welcome home sign). I love that Turtle got a hot girl. Nice guys do NOT finish last. I loved that E was fighting the big fight for Vince, suit and all. Class act. I love Martin Scorsese. And most of all, I loved seeing Ari Gold in Queens. Priceless.

Someone else was in the Big Apple this weekend. KAPPA PREP!

Hopsy is every bit as fabulous as her blog is. I think many of my readers overlap with hers and thought you would enjoy this photo we took. Here we are having drinks at the W Hotel. Really and truly long lost sorority sisters.

Fill my empty room with the sun

My weekend is off to a good start. I had lunch and Starbucks with Sunshine in the City. She is a fellow Southern Belle, sorority sister, and book club member! Afterward, I visited the new Victoria's Secret on Lexington. That place is jazzy! The sales associate who rung me up asked me multiple times if I wanted to open an Angels Account. Are you kidding me? I'd be out on the street (/guest room in my parent's house) with two cardboard boxes: one filled with my Gucci loafers and the other with lacy lingerie. Oh, and I'd still be single. NO thanks.

I also got an email from the lovely Kappa Prep of Monograms and Manicures. She is at Lilly headquarters/the warehouse sale and saw a photo of me! Made me smile. The legacy lives on!

I'm off to enjoy the rest of my Friday. Thank you to everyone who has left encouraging comments, sent kind emails, and all readers. You all brighten my day more than you know. Have a wonderful weekend!

Preppy Picks - The JGIWC Gift Guide

Part 1 of 4 installations. Happy shopping!


Boatman Geller Wine Tags. Personalize your wine by adding a little prep!




Monopoly Lilly Pulitzer Limited Edition. For the Lilly Lover who has ALMOST everything. (In my opinion, this is like the new Lilly barbie. Thank the good Lord I already own one of those.)




Vineyard Vines Whale Fair Isle Hat. Walking in a Waspy wonderland! Coordinating scarf and glittens available, and there are few things in life this gal loves more than a match set.




Tucker Blair Needlepoint Headband. This holiday season... give 'em crabs!

Signed, sealed, delivered... I'm yours

I've been feeling really rotten lately. I am just down on my luck. I try to stay away when I have nothing positive to say, but then I thought why not tell my readers how I cheer up when I am in a bad mood.

I send mail.

Knowing that I'm brightening someone else's day by adding some spunk to their mailbox always brightens my day a little bit too. Like I've said before, I believe all things handwritten are a lost art. I do what I can to keep the old-fashioned way of communicating alive. Plus, I have always believed that sending mail is good karma.

I received a custom stamp in the mail from Expressionery today. Perfect excuse! I chose the Fleur de Lis stamp because it is one of my sorority symbols and quite classic.



I also received an email from the president of my favorite paper company, Boatman Geller, suggesting that I mention their warehouse website on my blog. The Boatman Geller friends and family warehouse shop offers "overstock and retired Boatman Geller products available at fantastic low prices". I know my dear friend KappaPrep over at Monograms and Manicures has mentioned this site before as well.



Tis the season... I'm a huge fan of the holiday gift cards. You can purchase 50 gift cards and 50 envelopes for the price of $10 from one of the finest paper purveyors around. This is unheard of!



I recently sent Miss NMB over at Nina Knows Best a note on my McLaren Collection BG stationery. I sure hope she received it (and liked it)!

I would love to hear what you all do to lift your spirits when you're feeling low. And now, back to my correspondence cards! Knowing I have a bundle to take to the post office always makes me smile.

I eat too much, I drink too much, I want too much. TOO MUCH.

Have I ever mentioned that I'm a writer? Hopefully through reading this you've deduced some semblance of an idea that represents the aforementioned inquiry. I love when people ask me what I do. I can't think of a more smart ass retort than, "I'm a writer." It says so much and absolutely nothing all at once.

I took last week off of the blog in an effort to work on some other projects. This aspiration quickly backfired when I became violently ill on Tuesday morning and spent the remainder of the week in bed. Not eating, not drinking, and most certainly not writing.

Sometimes I feel like some of my best work is the stuff that never actually makes it on paper. I don't know whether it's my desire to find the beauty in everything, my constant search for the silver lining. Or that I'm consistently composing and re-working sentences in my head to find the best possible way to say something. This need to be able to intertwine words and phrases into delicate jumbles of sense. I can't explain it. I think I see the world from a different angle.

I'm still not sure what made me sick. I haven't bounced completely back, but after a long week of thinking capped off with a weekend jaunt to Florida, I've cleared my head. And what I've deduced is that lately life has become a string of ironies. So many things that could be happening and SHOULD be happening just aren't. My faith is endless, however, and I am confident that everything will click. Writing included.

But until then, I will continue to eat too much, drink too much, and most certainly want too much.

Of Mice and Men

I dated a guy for a few months last year. We laughed and had a good time. The relationship was never going anywhere, and frankly, that's why I ended it. I came to my senses and realized that I should only be dating people whom I can actually introduce to my parents.

I found out a few months later that he had been cheating on me. I was shocked - he really hadn't seemed like the two-timing type - and hurt. A guy friend of mine said to me, "Are you sure you were exclusive?"

How typical. Yes, I'm fairly certain. Especially since he started referring to me as his girlfriend far before I was ready to call him my boyfriend. We spent New Years Eve together, he planned an elaborate date for my birthday and he introduced me to his parents. In this city, how much more exclusive can you get? If you're reading this: I know everything, you're a piece of dreck, and karma is a bitch.

This situation brought a lot of things to a head for me. 1) Trust really is sacred. 2) Since I moved here, I've only dated guys whom I knew I had no future with. Albeit some of them are great and I'm happy to have them as friends, but there hasn't been one real possibility of something beyond a few months of fun.

I have met one guy this year who I think is great. The kind of great that used to mean something. The thing is, I really don't even know if I will ever speak to or see him again, if he reads the blog, and even so, if he would know that I'm referring to him.

I know it sounds melancholy, but it's not. It's hope. And no need for the "You're so young!" and "It will happen!" comments. I love you all for leaving them, but, I know and I know.

And with that said, I'm taking a much needed blog hiatus. Life is hectic and something's gotta give. Unfortunately, this week that's JGIWC (the website, NOT the lifestyle). I will return on Monday, November 17 so please check back then!

I am always available at jgiwc.tag@gmail.com if you need me. Have a wonderful week!

Preppy Picks - Ask and you shall receive

You can now shop online at www.lillypulitzer.com!

Hurry up and fill your 'Shopping Tote' with lots of pink and green!

P.S. Make sure to check out the Store Locator. Texas has never looked so cute!

You're Sixteen, You're Beautiful, and You're Mine

Dear Baby Sister,



I remember the day you were born. It was a brisk November afternoon in Miami. I can recall the exact moment that I saw the door to my second grade classroom at Beth Am open. Dad was in the doorway. Our eyes met and we smiled. I just knew.

It was love at first sight. Your face was angelic; your eyes were like raindrops. I held you in my arms and felt more grateful than I ever had before. In my eight years of life, I had gotten everything I asked for, but you were by far the best present yet.



You are and have always been one of a kind. You are a beautiful, kind, and caring individual.



We are night and day. I'm classic; you're modern. I'm pink and green; you're black and brown. I'm a writer; you're an artist. We only coordinate in photos when I beg you to wear Lilly.



You are my sounding board, my source of laughter, and my best friend. I couldn't think of a more perfect addition to our family.



Know that on this day, the sixteenth anniversary of your birth, your big sister loves you more than life itself. You are the most precious thing in my life.

It's sixteen years later, and you're still the best gift mom and dad have ever given me.



HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

I love you,

TAG

Does Advil deliver?

This was my first thought waking up on Saturday morning. Open Bar, you get me every time.

One of my favorite guys in the whole wide world suggested that I do sort of a "live blog" and key notes and times into my BlackBerry to give my readers a real feel for what my night was like. I loved the idea. Unfortunately, I completely forgot to do it.

Luckily, while I may not have any written evidence of the evening, I do have fantastic photographic proof.

First and foremost, what was I?


A SAILOR GIRL! Simple, sexy, preppy. Perfection.

Bette Midler's New York Restoration Project throws an annual costume ball on Halloween (cleverly titled 'Hulaween') to raise money for various nature-related projects. I attended the after party which was hosted by NYRP's junior committee, The Buds. It was held at the Waldorf-Astoria, which is where I stayed with my family when we visited from Florida back in the day. I hadn't been back to the hotel in quite some time and it was lovely to return. I must say that I am sad to have missed the dinner and especially the musical guest. I grew up on Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine and have always wanted to see her live. Oh well. Shoulda coulda Prada.


TAG and AEG in all of our sailor glory.


TAG and The Lunch Belle!


TAG, AS, and AEG. Apologies for the blurry factor.

It was a wild party. Great crowd and amazing tunes. No Halloween is complete without Thriller...


And, because I didn't take notes like I wanted to, I thought I'd include a text message exchange between a friend and I for your reading pleasure.

Me: "Weee at doerunsa"
Him: "Where is that? I couldn't get a cab for the life of me!"
Him: "I had to walk home from the West Village."
Me: "Borerian!"

Verbatim. Um, I was trying to tell him that we were at Dorrian's. After the party is the after party, but after the after party...

All in all, a great night. Aggressive, some may say. But I think the below photo says it better than I ever could.