Tag Archives: Dannijo

Again, with the Wang! My Pseudo Boyfriend.

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Happy Friday kiddos! Disclaimer: I am suffering from whiplash. I spent the better half of yesterday, and the earlier hours of today riding (thrashing) around Long Island in an unmarked van for work.  This may or may not have resulted in some mild dain bramage.

Yesterday, Hadley introduced you to her pirate boyfriend, today I introduce you to mine.

You have seen them before, I see them at least once a week; these pants are my boyfriend. Maybe having a pair of pants stand in as a love interest says something about me, but seriously, it’s a solid relationship that I have no problem commiting to. Can I get a small pat on the back for that? All they ask for is a good wash once every other week (which I do by hand in my previously mentioned plastic chip bowl in my sink).

Last time I wore these bad boys on the blog I wore them with my beat up loafers, but I can not allow myself to get too comfy all the time, gotta spice things up! God forbid I allow my feet to remember what flats feel like for too long or they might get used to it. 

(Shirt: Theysken’s Theory, Gold Ring: Vintage, Silver Ring: James Avery, Cuff: Dannijo, Bracelet: J.Crew, Watch: Michael Kors, Shoes: Aldo)

Enjoy your weekend. If you don’t have a man friend to buy you drinks this Friday night (or to assemble the Ikea furniture you ordered that is being delivered Sunday), take your favorite pants out and buy a cocktail (or five) for yourself! You will have a good time either way. Until Monday, People!

Pictures taken by Mr. Justin Livingston






Thirsty Thursday: Two Lovebirds

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This past Friday, my mystery boyfriend and I went to a black tie wedding.  IT.WAS. UNBELIEVABLY.AWESOME.  I would suggest that you all get a mystery boyfriend who has a friend with amazing taste who is getting married at The New York Botanical Gardens.  If you don’t want to get a boyfriend, I suggest you get a girlfriend.  No judgement here.  I rarely go to anything so fancy (and by rarely, I mean, the last time I wore this much make up was actually, well, now that I think about it, never), so I loved getting so gussied up.       

(Dress: Top Shop, Necklace, Dannijo)

I want to say that my mystery boyfriend’s pirate in a tux was the real winner ensemble of the night (well, aside from the bride who looked absolutely stunning in Monique Lhuillier), but his follow up “‘Stein in a Suit Jacket” is almost too good.  I call it a draw.  What do you guys think?  Jack Sparrow or Mr. Munster? 

Disclaimer:  It is my sweetheart’s decision to be faceless and nameless on this here blog.  I respect him immensely for his decision, but that does not mean for one second that choosing how to disguise his fache is not going to provide me with endless hours of entertainment. 

In other more interesting news, I seriously want to wear this peplum dress everyday for the rest of my life. I got so many compliments.  (It probably helped that I was sucking in like 20 lbs with my Spanx body suit.)  This wedding also made me realize that I must look like absolute dog poop everyday at work because after getting dressed in my work bathroom, I swear to you that my boss did not recognize me.  He stared at me for 5 minutes trying to place me even though I was sitting AT my desk and then said, “You’re wearing a lot of make up.  I thought you were a Kardashian.”   I took that as a compliment and then hightailed it to Grand Central to catch a train.  It should be noted that upon catching said train, I crushed a tall boy in 20 minutes.  I keep it classy, folks.

I then proceed to dance my ass off.  To the point where I got a self-diagnosed-self-inflicted-dancing-related knee injury.  Ever since last Friday, every time I sit down my left knee does this weird popping thing, and you know what?  I could actually care less.  That is how much fun I had.  Following the reception to end all receptions (in which I had my own personal bar tender) we took a party bus down to SoHo to keep the fun going.  I obviously took a power nap.  We got home at 6:30 in the morning, and I couldn’t help but think that all parties should end at sunrise.

And, because weddings are all about love, I’m going to leave you with this gem.  

I will also now cordially invite you to my wedding, which will be, approximately never, because after my boyfriend sees that I covered his face with a Frankenstein mask we are probs going to be breaking up.  (J/K/LOL/L/Y/L/A/S/W/B/A/S/A/P!)




Situational Dressing: What to wear when you don’t want to wear your pajamas to Tasti D-Lite again this week.

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No exaggeration, this is a situation that I find myself in at least once a day.  And, because I don’t want to lie to you people, sometimes my good ol’ jim jams win out.  (And by sometimes, I mean, 4 times already this week.)  But, there are days when common sense tells me to wear a bra, so, let me break those days down for you…

(Denim Shirt: H + M, Jorts: Gap, Purse: Fossil, Necklace: Dannijo, Not pictured: the aforementioned bra, Calvin Klein)






Blast from the Past: Hoarding & My Great Great Aunt’s Blouse

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As I have mentioned many a time, I have some kick ass family members. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and because of this I get to blame my problems on them – gotta love a validated finger pointing! Much like myself, my Grandmother (her name is legal name is Teal, but you may refer to her as Nannie) hoards clothes. She has 4 closets full of not only her own vintage pieces, but also a whole Neiman Marcus archive from her Aunt (also named Teal). When I was in high school, she used to pay me at a highly inflated hourly rate to organize these closets and dressers.  As an added bonus, I would also be able to keep anything I was particularly found of.  Luckily, both Teals have amaze taste and I have outfitted myself in their leftovers many a time. One of my favorites is this silk OGGI snakeskin printed blouse.

  (Blouse: OGGI, Jeans: Genetic Denim, Booties: Calvin Klein)

It used to have shoulder pads, but a quick two-minute, pre-party, in-the-bathroom-with-surgical-scissors decision resulted in their removal. I don’t regret it.  It should also be known that this does comes with a matching sequin skirt and sequin jacket that are in the same print.  While the accompanying items are endearing in their own rights individually, all together they would have made for one heck of a distraction at the office, so I opted for denim.

(Cuffs: Dannijo, Ring: Vintage, Bracelet: J. Crew, Watch: Michael Kors)

I have come to terms with my hoarding and have realized it is something I will never be cured of but must learn to live with in remission. I’m not ashamed. I am fortunate. I am fortunate to have grown up having someone that supported and enabled/enables my clothing obsession. Let’s face it, Teal and Gary even bought me these shoes (girlfriend can barely manage a monthly MetroCard). Gracias, Nannie and Papa.

So on your next visit home, check the back of your mother, grandmother, or fabulous gay uncle’s closet. You never know what gems you may find.

Pictures by Justin Livingston

 






Blast from the Past: The black dress from Freshman Year Sorority Formal

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Happy Monday! If you want to see what hoarding looks like you don’t have to look too far; no need to turn on TLC. You can either tour the apartment in Chelsea that my roommate and I looked at last weekend OR you could just come over and take a gander at my closet.  It is so bad that I have additional rolling racks of clothes chillin’ by my kitchen table, and I installed shelving specifically for shoes (and when I say installed, I mean, I illegally hammered holes into the drywall of my apartment and “hung” mini shelves I got for 6 bucks a pop at the Ikea in Red Hook).

If you are like me (and I know you people are out there, you just don’t want to admit it) you may have trouble finding reasons to dig to the back of your dresser and make use of your oldies. While I don’t have a lot of advice on how to revive your Jessica McClintock cocktail dress from middle school prom, your power bead bracelets from Limited Too, or one of your many Hollister graphic tees you wore with Uggs and a denim mini in 9th grade, I can offer advice on how to fix up an old formal dress from college! I know how to make your Alpha Chi Omega ’Carnation Ball’ frock seem a little less, “Oh man really, unlimited Natty Light, and they aren’t even checking ID’s?” and a little more, “Wait, you did say this thing tonight in Meatpacking was open bar, right?” How grown up and metropolitan am I? Enter said frock: An A.B.S. by Allen Schwartz pleated tent dress my mother bought for me at Neiman’s for my first sorority formal.  I loved her. She was (is) such a fun little dress.

(Dress: A.B.S. Allen Schwartz, Shoes: Nine West, Cuff: Dannijo)

Please notice the shelving behind me that I mentioned above. Do you see how unbalanced they are? Jesus knows I tried. It only took me a day and a half. ANYHOW, this getup is perfect for a summer night out. It’s easy breezy (a little too breezy actually, some construction workers on 23rd street got a free show out of this getup a few weeks ago). I put it with these outrageous/hilarious/kinda really effing amazing Nine West gold platforms and a Dannijo cuff. Simple, but fun. Much better than the patent black peep toes and gold bangles of yesteryear. Look at it move! I am known for my grace, FYI, if it wasn’t overtly apparent from the above photo.

The absolute best part about this dress is the ability for it to become a makeshift veil. This is something I learned at age 18 while on a party bus in Lawrence, KS trying to sneak a beer past the Standards board (sorry, Stephanie). At age 23, my instinct to transform into a nun remains.

Then – Freshman Year Formal in the bathroom. Now – Pre-Open bar with the gal pals.

Ahh, memories. I don’t want to endorse psychological disorders, but perhaps this type of hoarding is good. Don’t ditch those old party dresses because you never know when they can be used again. Someone will always have a last minute summer rooftop party to commemorate their new part-time-overtime-just for-extra-cash job and all you will have time to do is run by Trader Joes to pick up 3 bottles of 2 Buck Chuck.

I leave you with me, circa 2007 with my date to the AXO formal. We were 18 and obviously the only ones without fake ID’s - X marks the spot. We also look like children, which reminds me, I need to get on the overnight wrinkle cream ASAP. And before you ask, yes, I have always been this photogenic. Adios!Pictures by an assortment of tipsy party goers in college & Jordan Jacobson