Minimalism in Fashion

It may be that I'm a cultural product of the modern era (as opposed to a more ornate culture like that of Marie Antoinette in her palace at Versailles), but I've always been attracted to simple silhouettes with cleverly paired items that need no embellishment.

Or it may be my tendency to wake up about 25 minutes before I need to leave in the morning. Or that I hate thinking before I've had any coffee. Or that earrings are impossible to sleep on. (I like to make as few costume changes as possible.) Again, unlike Marie Antoinette, I'm no princess.

Although I'm not a morning person (obviously) or royalty (need I even say it), I think I'm drawn to minimalistic fashion for one much larger reason that pervades my life: I'm drawn to minimalism in general (aka I don't like owning a lot of stuff).

I think much of this comes from my bicoastal lifestyle (moving is quite the bitch), but my desire to be minimal came from a place that many of my other changes in perspective come from: comedy. Comedy is, after all, philosophy for the non-intellectual (aka the non-elitist, the country bumpkin, the humble, the unpretentious, the defense mechanism laden, the repressed). By this I mean, that I think through my life changes, my uncertainties, my numerous instances of cognitive dissonance, I've used comedy as the inspiration and the driving force because I can't even take small talk seriously, let alone all the feelings and emotions that come out when I have to reflect. Yuck.

But, as my more intellectual counterparts might say, I digress. I was trying to tell the story of my attraction towards minimalism, and it came from my hatred towards stuff. Or rather, George Carlin's hatred towards stuff. Or at the very least, his predictably cynical attitude towards it.

A stretch from a bit where the word "stuff" is said to the point of near meaningless all the way to fashion (maybe I should be calling it "clothing" instead of "fashion" - even in this respect I cannot take myself seriously), but writers like George Carlin have a way of weaseling their way into my brain and setting up camp there. He is point is so universal, and so fucking true, I can't help but want to apply it to everything.  Including all the stuff I wear on my body each day (to say nothing of the stuff I carry in my pockets...)

This persuasive joke, combined with my great prospensity to laziness, and, frankly, a deep appreciation for mens wear, have led me to adorn my body with simple looks that afford me three very important things: an asthetic that pleases me, more time to sleep in, and less stuff.


Picture is from style.com. Phillip Chai Love, Ready to Wear: Fall 2014

Whiskey Cocktails

For people who don't like whiskey, but still want to fraternize with that opposite sex who does.


I'll ease you into it from most feminine to least.

Whiskey Sour
Whiskey (obviously)
Simple Syrup (think nectar)
Lime

I was first introduced to this at a bar, by a drunk girl, so you know it's good.

Whiskey and Coke (aka Jack and Coke)
Whiskey
Coke

Remember when you were drinking vodka cranberries in college? Guys were drinking this.

Pickleback
Shot of whiskey (followed by)
Shot of pickle juice

This is the drink that probably requires an actual explanation. And let me address what you are probably thinking (and what I was definitely thinking) upon first hearing about this drink: how could I possibly like this? I hate whiskey, and I hate pickles.  Well, I don't know what to say other than you will love this.  Tequila is my favorite liquor, and I have to admit that whiskey and pickles go together better than tequila, salt, and lime. It's uncanny. Just try it.  I feel a bit like a mom right now (if you're mom were a bit misguided in parenting) and I am insisting that you try this: you won't know until you try.

If you have a little get together, you can just pick up whiskey, lime, sugar (for simple syrup), coke, and pickles, and you've got a few different cocktails to try. And if all those guys you invite (because you're a man eater, aren't you) complain about the cocktails you're serving, tell them that they can drink they're whiskey like real men. Neat.

I Forgot, How Many F$&#s Do I Give?

As a human of the female persuasion, I've always felt I've had two options before me, and I feel the unfortunate need to be Shakespearian here: to give a fuck or not to give a fuck.

I'm talking of course about fashion. And potentially makeup. And maybe some semblance of a hairstyle on a particularly festive occasion.  Or how I used to put it: "What? Waking up earlier? Why?"

How to Explore New York (in the Hell Hole that is January)

It's Sunday night, which means that your relaxing Lazy Sunday has now turned into an anxious anticipation of Mundane Monday. (Fun with alliteration!) I suggest ignoring this low by doing what I have done (or by simply reading this blog post) and planning out an itinerary for your week.

I use the word "itinerary" to give this the feel of a vacation.  Yes, you still have to go to work this week.  I'm not advising that you quit your job (nor is your landlord), but I am advising that you make plans for the week for you to look forward to.  Not just next weekend, but the entire week. So that life doesn't end up feeling like a cliché '80's song.

In addition to making life feel less mundane (because, frankly, life isn't mundane), I've also made all my suggestions free.  Partially because I know I'm not the only one pinching pennies after the holidays, but also because it's easy to fall into a trap in New York City where you feel as if anything fun, entertaining, or adventurous comes with a steep price tag. I wrote this post to prove to you (and myself) that this is a false notion.

Finally, there was one final challenge I had to overcome in creating this itinerary.  I have not forgotten that it is January, and no one feels like getting out of bed or shedding any blankets.  Hopefully this will re-energize us all.