Happy 100th & Other Celebrations

It's a special day here at the Pretty, dolls, and not only because I've just watched the super-Cali-tragi-AWESOME "Real Housewives of Orange County" season premiere. Today marks post #100 - 100! I am so very grateful and honored that anyone - all 3 of you - are still reading my deeply superficial drivel, and truly have enjoyed the friendships, virtual and otherwise, I've somehow tricked you into despite my behavior here. I think this calls for a champagne toast, complete with the Pink Bendy Straw of Celebration, don't you?



Speaking of images that make a girl want to celebrate, remember how I recently mentioned a development in men's fashion? While perusing the December "Vogue" issue and musing over what Anna Wintour would have us wear next - formal shorts? sequined clogs? - I merrily happened upon this glorious Mario Testino photo shoot:

(Please forgive the poor scan quality; I fear my hormones may be interfering with the pixels.)

I do not include this photo only for the "Mad Men" faithful amongst us - and let's just agree to ignore the sub-Joan-par hussy in the background, shall we? - but also to incite a development in men's fashion - the Dinner Jacket. At a tailgate, at the movies, for swanky cocktails - I'm not particular. I don't ask for much. Ok, that last part is a baldfaced lie, but still . . . doesn't the very idea just take you to that glamorous place in your head we talked about the other day? So while the Americans amongst us are off for Thanksgiving, let's give this movement a think, preferably over some pink bendy straws etc.

On that impossibly glam note, I'm off like Heidi and Spencer's sham marriage - a marvelous, happy Thanksgiving to all!

The Un-Pretty PC

Please forgive me, pets, if my posts and comments this Thanksgiving week are a bit more infrequent than usual. Alas, both my creativity and my screeching case of carpal tunnel require a wee break from our usual internet irreverence; my personal PC has also opted to begin a protracted, painful death by crashing. Hence, I will be harnessing most of my formidable persuasive powers this week to convincing the Anonymous Husband that a "Black Friday"MacBook acquisition and an iPhone and a pony is a necessity along the lines of oxygen and the NFL.

(credit: Apple)

Fret not - excuses and computer crashes and non-tingly arms permitting, I'll be back soon with vitally important men's fashion musings, as well as an update on my least favorite arch-nemesis and yours (name rhymes with "Laris") . . .

Smootches,

Legallyblondemel

Ask the Pretty, i.e. Fun with Cartier and Tiffany

Today's post allows us the opportunity to engage in one of the Pretty's favorite pastimes - telling other people what to wear - which is second only to feeling smugly superior
on le beloved hobbies list. Perusing Tiffany and Cartier goodies is also high on the list, naturally. Besides, in perhaps my one selfless (mostly) move of the week, I wanted to send you off to your weekend on a fun note, so imagine my delight upon spotting this reader question:

" . . . any thoughts on Tiffany's latest creations? I'm particularly interested in your insight on the Tiffany Blue enamel & sterling silver bangle. For a mere Tiffany pittance ($450), you can wear the Blue... Will it recreate that superficial thrill I admittedly get every time I see the blue box and what treasure it will hold? Will it clash with my gold Cartier Love bracelet (that thing never comes off come hell or high water)? Oh, Pretty, Witty, Blonde goddess, what's a girl with a Christmas list in the making to do?" - courtesy of that yummy mummy and dear friend, Esquire Mommy, who I didn't even have to harass to write in with this question.*
*I pay well.

EM, let me first say what a delightful dilemma this is to have! Knowing how reliably wonderful your Ralph Lauren-style husband is with the Good Jewelry, I have every confidence that Santa will do the right blue-and-white thing here. So as to guide his sleigh in the proper direction, however, let's take a look at the hard facts, shall we?

For the sake of giving myself an excuse to spend hours toodling around Cartier's website other readers' visual reference, I include the gold Cartier "Love" bracelet and necklace you already own here (all photos credit Cartier):

Many of us have seen the recent Cartier ads for this collection, and I'm happy to report these pieces are exquisitely elegant and feminine in person. And I'm not just saying that because I am fervently willing Cartier to send me all of the above and perhaps just one teensy weensy Tank Francaise watch. However, as these Love pieces have already been purchased, we are not here to debate their merits, gentle readers, so moving right along . . .

As for the T & Co. bauble in question, I see this as a three part analysis - you know how us Legally Blonde types favor numbered lists & colons (the latter referring to the grammar weapon, not the gastrointestinal goody) - to wearing it with the Love bracelet:

(1) Can we mix this sterling silver with that yellow gold? In general, I think mixing metals can work, but I like a visual link between the two;
(2) I regret that this is necessary, T & Co., but is the item in question too Logo-ed?; and
(3) What Tiffany baubles hints must be funnelled to my own Anonymous Husband for my own Christmas List? What's that, this isn't about me? Dolls, when it comes to Good Jewelry, it's an official Pretty Stance to make it about yourself, all in demure and feminine manner, of course . . . ahem . . .

(credit: Tiffany)

Mmm, indeed there is some magical Madison Avenue mojo with that shade of blue, isn't there? It renders a girl positively Holly Golightly despite ourselves, no? And the shape of this does match the gold bangle, and is just simple and delightful on its own merits. However, strictly applying our 2 Part Test:**
**knew our professional school exam strategy would come in handy eventually - thanks, student loans!

(1) as far as the gold-silver color combinations go, I think the silver here might not be the best match with the ever-present Cartier. Although the blue & gold would be really striking, I'd prefer a gold border with the blue vs. this sterling;
(2) On the Logo-Scale, the American judge gives this a 5 out of 10; there's definitely logo presence atop & perhaps below the bangle, which we generally stand against. On the other hand, the logos are smallish & located such that I suspect no one would notice it at all when the bracelet on the arm.

Overall, I genuinely do like the Tiffany bracelet & would particularly love it bunched up in a stack of other silver baubles like this. Here, however, the silver/gold mismatch with your Cartier is of more of a concern than the logos or, say, who's up to be nominated as Secretary of State. How about these T & Co. ideas for a more seamless silver-gold matchup . . .

(credit: Tiffany)

This one is a Tiffany classic, and integrates the silver-gold combo beautifully. Nary a logo in sight, and its elegant shape would complement the Love bracelet & its pattern nicely. Plus, at only $325, I'm saving Mr. EM a whopping $125 he can devote to yet another present for you! Or you, know, I accept PayPay payments or cashiers checks.

If that last one isn't to your liking, how about this?

(Credit: Tiffany - dumb internet connection preventing my posting the specific link. Harrumph.)

Again, this ties the silver and gold together nicely, and the circular pattern matches the beautiful Love circles pattern. This isn't a firm bangle, so it may move around the wrist more, but I like the contrast in form.

Readers, what say you? Thinking I'm even more brilliant than you did before? Any other Christmas list crises for which I can be of service?

Important, Special Note to Juicy Couture

Pretty Headquarters
One Snark Avenue
Principality of Monaco, via Austin, Texas

Juicy Couture
123 Tacky on a Stick Trail
Los Angeles, CA 9208-oh

Dear Miss Juicy:

I'll admit that you had me fooled - hoodwinked, even - such that I began to overlook those ludicrous $200 velour track suits - all together now, $200 velour track suits - with your fun retro fashions this season:

(credit: Saks. And hopefully Pepto-Bismol, given the aggrieved look on the model's face. How is is that dire gastric distress is meant to sell clothes, I ask you?)


(credit: Ssense.com)

(credit: Nordstrom)

Alas, my cheap-fabric-clad pets, you dashed my faith in one swell, tragi-handbag swoop lurking within my Nordy's holiday catalog:

(credit: Shopbop)

For $225 of my very own hard-earned dollars, Miss Juicy, I do not choose you. I choose pinot grigio. And Pugs that greet me at the door and snore softly in my ear every night. And the Constitution. I do not choose a $225 walking advertisement for your intergalactic company o' craptastic taste, for which I am paid absolutely nothing, particularly in these financially fearsome times.

(credit: Revolve Clothing)

What's that sound, kittens? Could it be the Four Horsemen of the Stuff Men Are Afraid Of Apocalypse, galloping away at the sight of this?

Given that my readers are utter geniuses that are entirely beyond on the Pretty and Witty Scales, this goes without saying, but . . . for those Princesses hoping for a Princess cut, a frighteningly huge CZ on a key chain is likely only to let those Four Horsemen stomp all over any dreams of, you know, an actual diamond ring. For those engaged Princesses, presumably you have an actual ring of sorts, or will have one shortly on that Pretty ring finger of yours, rendering this clap-trap obsolete at best, or show-off-y at worst. And for us Smug Marrieds, isn't this just one more piece de resist-crap to file away in the Re-Gifting pile (not that I'd ever do that, naturally)?

To conclude, Miss Juicy, I'm aware that you're aiming for a demographic approximately half my age and thrice my income level, but it stings nonetheless. After we'd started the year off on such a good note, perhaps it's just my disappointment speaking. Nonetheless, I've learned to keep my friends close, and overpriced tracksuits closer . . . wait, no that doesn't quite work, does it? Sort of like $45 pretend engagement rings on a key chain.

Hmmmph,

Legallyblondemel

Exit Polls and Fergie Trolls

It's that special time, kittens, where we tally up the votes for last night's pity party poll and survey your right to vote (magnanimously assigning us in the US of A's right to vote to all), and find that this little J. Crew cashmere goodie is soundly defeating my husband, my family, and my go-to celeb (second only to Anti-Prep Paris) on the reliability factor. My money was on the AH, but cashmere, as always was running a reliable close second . . .

. . . but what I'm really curious about is the 4% who voted for La Lohan's purported return to normalcy. Is it her fortunate, recent return to red hair? Or the unlikelihood that a snooty prissy pants like yours truly could ever hope to a beneficial husband or family turnaround? Please discuss.

In other breaking news, we here at the Pretty have taken a look at our Google Analytics and have discovered a not insignificant legion of Fergie (the Pea, not the weight-loss Royalty) fans frequenting these fair pages in search of her visage, presumably based on this post. From all corners of the globe, at all sorts of intriguing hours, mind you. Visitors, you are most welcome here, naturally, but I fear Miss F. Pea may not be featured here as often as your Googling purchases may prefer. Regrets, darlings, but a blogette has only so many hours in the day to condescendingly judge review celebrity fashion. Or Burberry be-splattered shorts and bowler hat and frapping abysmal fashion taste and however could you think me possible of tolerating her for more than one post sans personal delivery of Josh Duhamel to my very own doorstep, as it were. Thank you for your understanding.

Smootches,

Legallyblondemel

Democracy in Action!

Pretty here, reporting to you from the front lines of Raging Crankiness. While I'm off conducting in-depth complaining and meditative perusing of those Slim Aarons photos, I invite you to exercise your right to vote in rather different manner than the Americans amongst us did recently:

poll by twiigs.com

Yours in wine and whining,
With heartfelt apologies for the latter,

Legallyblondemel

Pretty Photos - Slim Aarons

As a fan of observing "attractive people doing attractive things in attractive places", I've long enjoyed the work of Slim Aarons, the famed American society photographer who coined that phrase. His work transports me to that delusional happy, glamorous place in my head (thanks to the ever-stylish SLynnRo ,who recently wrote about this sort of imagery) where I'm the type of woman to take my vintage convertible out for leisurely drives down the Pacific Coast Highway, Hermes scarf fluttering softly in the California breeze, giant sunglasses and driving gloves in place, on my way to sail around Balboa Island and sip vodka sodas for the day.*
*I've got the giant sunglasses sorted out already. As for the rest . . .

Imagine my delight on happening upon seeing a piece Aaron's work in the December "InStyle", of all places, where I learned that certain prints & portfolio sets are for sale online at Assouline, a boutique publisher of sorts with fantastic fashion reads like this and this. Just think of the holiday shopping potential, I cried! I was slightly less delighted to then learn that to purchase such prints for my friends would require my actually going to live in that same happy, yet fictional place in my head where I swan about in Hermes - a nice thought, but slightly out of the question financially.

Nonetheless, let's look at and enjoy these glam snapshots of the past, with apologies to my Christmas list that I can't yet gift these to you in actual fact. Like the vintage convertible, someday . . .

(credit: Photographer's Gallery via Getty Images; Find it here at Assouline)

"Nice Pool" (1955) - The socialite, writer, and Pretty Icon C.Z. Guest and son at their ocean-front estate, Villa Artemis, in Palm Beach.

(credit: Photographer's Gallery via Getty Images; here at Assouline)

"Four Kings of Hollywood" (1957): Rhett Butler Clark Gable, Van Heflin, Gary Cooper, and James Stewart. Yes.


(credit: Photographer's Gallery via Getty Images; here at Assouline)

"Poolside Gossip" (1970) - a Palm Springs, California home known as the "Kaufmann House" designed by Richard Neutra. Wonder if they're swapping tales about that Palm Springs institution himself, Mr. Sinatra?

(credit: Assouline)

"Sea Drive" (1967) - Kevin McClory and wife Bobo Segrist in the "Amphicar" at Nassau. Looks like a pink parasol-worthy occasion, don't you think?

(credit: Assouline)

"Family Snapper" (1959) - Mrs. William "Babe" Paley, another Pretty Icon, and Mr. Paley (note him in the background snapping a shot of the photographer) at Round House, their Jamaica cottage.

Q & A Revealed!

Exclamation point! Sounds hang-onto-your-pants exciting, no? Thanks to all three of you - clearly my readership is just as skilled at rule-flaunting as I am - for allowing me the opportunity to talk about myself even more by answering the questions you asked here. I'm throwing in a few of my own, since it's totally normal to conduct Barbara Walters style interviews with yourself, complete with flattering lighting and softball questions. So without further ado . . .

"Is the 'Sex and the City' sequel rumor true?" courtesy of me & apparently everyone else who is more interested in this than asking me questions about myself (??)

The situation isn't as clear as we or Kim Cattrall had hoped, apparently. See here.

My guess is that Carrie er, Sarah Jessica Parker is either (1) holding out for more money; and/or (2) trying to drum up more press about a sequel that is clearly inevitable given the money the first one made. More news on this as I find it.

"What do you like to do on the weekend?" courtesy of the exceedingly sweet Adventures of a Southern Newlywed

As little as possible. Perfection is a Sunday afternoon on the couch reading at least 3 newspapers, 2 novels, and 3 magazines while the Anonymous Husband watches some professional sport.

Truth be told, in addition to the usual family & friends stuff, I am often lured from my couch for one of two yuppie pursuits - food or the arts**. The AH and I are big eaters, as long-time readers will recall, and tend to frame both weekends and travel around the opportunity to check out new restaurants. Occasionally we'll even cook - meaning I twiddle around a boiling pot of water and complain about how much I miss In-n-Out while the AH actually makes good food. In fact, just last night I made a pumpkin cheesecake, and that isn't only because I'm a dessert fiend.

*"arts" being liberally construed by me to mean anything from catching up on Tivo'd "Real Housewives . . ." to going to the movies to seeing an actual play with, you know, thespians and such. It is construed by the AH to mean "anytime the Big 12 is playing a football game."

If I had, say, the trophy wife existence I so richly deserve, I'd resume my childhood and college-years hobby of competitive horseback riding. I miss it every day, but have some of those Life Goals (like seeing a bit more of the world) to attain before making the considerable time investment required to get back into showing horses. That being said, if anyone is looking to give away a pony, please contact me immediately at legallyblondemel at yahoo dot com. Thanks very much.

Although I tend to talk about Pretty Things on these fair web pages, in actual fact I'm far more inclined to save up for a fantastic meal or travel or, you know, an interesting experience. For example, I just bought tickets to the David Sedaris reading here instead of the J. Crew cashmere that's on-sale and causing my AmEx veritable palpitations. This is not intended in any show-offy manner, or no more than I usually intend, but rather just to say it isn't all about the Pretty here at the Pretty. Not entirely. Just mostly. I'm very grateful for the wonderful adventures and opportunities I have.

"What is your favorite beauty product?", courtesy of the appropriately, wonderfully titled Happy Daily.

It's been a while since I've complained about my eyelashes, hasn't it? 10 minutes, at least? It's one of my favorite things to complain about - and that's a long list o' favorites, dears - but I've had less of an opportunity since employing the Shu Uemura eyelash curler. Shu Uemura, not any other brand. Believe the hype.

(credit: Nordstrom)

You can keep your 34Ds - OK, that's a bald-faced lie, as I would stomp across a field of babies for those as well - so long as I can flutter actual lashes in daintily feminine manner. Or as the AH might put it, "Do you have something stuck in your eyes?"

"What do you miss most about our dear home state?" from my fabulous blog friend and fellow "The Office"-fiend "The Shabby Princess".

This is nearly disqualified for being an unfair question, since anyone who has actually been to California knows how incredible it is. What a weird, wonderful, outrageously gorgeous place it is.

So I'm going to pull a sappy choice - cue the John Mayer music - and say I miss my friends* the most, which has the added benefit of being true. I can hop on a plane and get my beach fix in anytime, but I cannot replace you girls.

*Should these wenches start misbehaving, I reserve the right to immediately change my answer to In-n-Out Burger. And the 15th Street beach in Del Mar. And not having to dress around the weather.

"Death is NOT an option - Jon Hamm or John Slattery?" because I'm writing the question and can therefore brazenly re-write the rules.

Um, yes.**

**Love you, AH.

"Why don't you post pretty pictures of how you've decorated your house for Halloween/ Thanksgiving etc. like so many other bloggettes do?" courtesy of me.

Um, because I am so very busy seeking out the best of retail for you, my readers, that I've simply run out of time to post about my homemaker-y skills. Yeah, that's it.

So truth is, I'm more than a little afraid of stores like Michael's (a craft store for you non-Southerners/Texans) and things like bedazzled turkey tablescapes. I may watch the occasional Martha for comforting entertainment purposes, but I am just a failure when it comes to being crafty in the non-diabolical sense. If you want help with schemes like "How do I passive-aggressively annoy my co-worker for my own personal entertainment?" or "How do I pry the television remote from my husband's cold, unfeeling grasp without declaring all-out war?", then I'm your girl; otherwise, you're on your own with the sequined gravy boats.

This isn't to say I don't admire the heck out of you crafty types, and it's not that I'm opposed to a tastefully crafty home. Cold-hearted as I may be, I'm all about the Christmas decorations myself - it's just that my own personal holiday decor is straight outta Pottery Barn, SG (sans glitter) style.

********

Anything else? Should we talk more travel & food here? So long as it doesn't involve glittering gourd decor, I'm open to your suggestions . . . but back to our regularly scheduled retail in the meantime . . .

A Christmas Karma

(In which I haphazardly mix religious metaphors in an attempt to appease the Universe via holiday cards.)

I take it you've never brazenly challenged karma by engaging in a possibly unladylike, yet truth-filled gossipfest conversation about someone, only to have that someone not 30 minutes later leave you an exceedingly friendly, guilt-inducing message? Right, me neither.

So in an attempt to start off the weekend on a more karmically balanced, festive foot, I'm turning my retail attentions today to sending some good out into the world through holiday cards. However, I find myself stuck* in one of those life-stage quandaries . . . As a singleton, I merrily sent out cards some years, others not, and no one seemed to care one way or the other. In stark contrast, as a DINK type now, I sense I am expected to send cards annually, but not those delightful photo cards or the informational inserts** that you parent-types often send. Although the Anonymous Husband and I are of course really, really good-looking and all (not to mention humble), I figure our friends and family are familiar enough with what we look like.

*Yes, I realize being stuck over something monumentally important like holiday cards is not an important problem in the grand scheme of things, or as compared to whether I ought to order that on-sale J. Crew daycoat already. Maybe I could just mail out a festive photo of the day coat instead?

**Speaking of informational inserts, certain Anonymous Relatives of mine send out a two-pager. Double sided. Authored by one of the family cats. Which two years ago featured details of medical treatments being conducted in Anonymous Relative's, er, nether regions. Um, so forgive me, but I do not forsee any personal pamphlets being included in my own holiday cards, although I support the brief (BRIEF), non-nether region mentioning sort from others.

Readers, what say you - am I right that as a married with no kids sort, I go with the personalized, non-photo cards? What are you sending this year? Most importantly, can one actually buy karmic offsets, like those carbon thingies, and will any of the above suffice in my case? Gah . . .

The Reluctant Prep: Kate Spade Edition

Perhaps it's these economically difficult times when I can't justify skipping my mortgage for not that I ever would splurging on one of my Fall Fantasy Bags, or the fact that I've just been sucked into the "Monarchy" mini-series on PBS (aka, reality television we can believe in) and am feeling enamored of Her Majesty the Queen's sensible matching handbag and heels.* Or is it this infernal 5 millionth return this week of preppy style that did it? Whatever the reason, lately I've been feeling more drawn than ever to classic fashions, particularly in the accessory department . . .
*Yes, that was me who just used "sensible matching handbag and heels" in an admiring manner. I'm 30 and watching public television on a Wednesday night, so this seems only a natural progression on the aging path to cellulite and cats . Thank you for your understanding.

. . . so when Esquire Mommy - who, in addition to being a dear friend of mine, is also one of those real-life "Real Housewives of Orange County" (sans tragic life or plastic surgery) types complete with Ralph Lauren-style husband and son and career - sent me a pic of her latest Kate Spade handbag acquisition, I was intrigued. For the first time in a while, actually, Since Miss Spade and her cleverly retro wares had waned in their appeal to me over the years. Not sure if was the fashionista magazine editors that got to me, or the style takeover by Marc Jacobs and his Urban Hipster henchmen, or people like Pat Fields, costume guru for "Sex and the City", sniffing that Carrie Bradshaw would never carry a KS bag. Nevertheless, unlike you Power Preps, I turned my back on KS for a number of years, until recently . . .

The "Yummy Mummy" Tote as I've named it after Esq. Mommy, or "Knightsbridge - Quinn" as the Kate Spade lovelies refer to it. What a delightfully normal, yet lovely everyday tote that is presentable at work or at lady lunches, both this year and in years to come. Nothing the Bag Snobs or editor types will get excited about, but . . . my wallet and me are cool with that.

This one has been kicking around stores for a while, so I can only find it retail for full price at Nordstrom here in a different color, but I've added it to my Christmas list. Right after a Mac Book. And a pony. Not necessarily in that order.

And I can't help but adore these as well:

(credit: Kate Spade)

Courtesy of the Kate Spade private sale going on right now (note: the outlet KS stores appear to be running similar specials as well), the "Karney sling." Again, not revolutionizing the fashion world, but it is in an on-trend grey. Plus, the classic look does the perfect work/play transition like the Yummy Mummy tote. At $119 a pop, a great price for a shoe that will last beyond the season. And:

(credit: Nordstrom)

There I bow again (ha! Get it! Ahahaha!Ha! Um . . . ) with this "Classic Noel Remy Wallet." This is too cutesy for some, and too logo-ey for others, but on my Sensible Wallet and Handbag Days, this primly adorable wallet would be just the thing.

And were I to feel ever so slightly more like acting young, I'd go for this one:


(credit: Nordstrom)

The color may be a tad sunshine-y for winter, but the cut is somehow both modern and classic in its simplicity (Important Note to Coach: Please observe), so this survives hibernation. Love the gold buckle detailing on the strap as well.

So while I'm pleased to be carrying my trendy-slouchy Marc by MJ-hipster bag for now as my brief foray into Urban Hipsterdom - brief because thanks to the trendiness of the bag - I couldn't help but add this on-sale cosmetic case the other day to balance things out. Because you can take the girl out of cotillion (or the girl can take herself out, rather), but you can't necssarily turn her into one of those haute Manhattan girls. Shh, please dont' tell them.

*************************************************************************************

Thanks to you all for your kind anniversary wishes. The AH and I enjoyed a nice evening cooking at home, having done the official fancy dinner thing out here in NYC, and watched the appropriately sappy-yet-hilarious "Love Actually."**
**Yes, this means I've been watching a perilous amount of Brit-related movies and television lately, which puts us in danger of my affecting an accent and saying things like "shhhhhhedule" and "knickers", befriending Madonna, and starting a completely pretentious website. Oh, wait . . .

A Pause for November 11

In which I am grateful

On this Veteran's Day I ever-so-briefly hang up my Snark Hat to thank my mother, father, step-father, brother, grandfather, grandmother, and grand-uncles, just to mention a few relatives who who have served or are serving either in war or in the active military. I owe you more than I can ever say. Thank you.


In which I am smugly celebratory

As Fate would have it, today also marks my very own wedding anniversary, that one special day of the year when the Anonymous Husband and I can sit back and smile in self-congratulation and swap stories about how crazy our exes were* in manner of completely insufferable Smug Marrieds. *No, really.



It's also possible I'm being a sentimental sap and paging through wedding photos while enjoying a champagne onesie (complete with pink bendy straw, naturally, but in an actual wedding flute so as to keep it classy) and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the AH.

More tomorrow, dolls, as I have much to discuss about that High Priestess of Prep, Kate Spade, as well as a certain anti-prep arch-nemesis (and hyphen-queen, apparently) of mine and her new reality show. In the meantime, please feel free to add to my open Q&A session which I will leave open for a few days yet, lest I be forced to invent my own dialogue . . .

(all photo credit to Winfield Little)

Important, Special Note to Oprah

Pretty Headquarters
One Snark Avenue
Principality of Monaco, Via Austin, Texas

Harpo Strategic Planetary Command Central
C/O Ms. Oprah Winfrey
123 Drink The Kool-Aid Path
Chicago, IL 60601

Dear Ms. Winfrey:

Ms. Winfrey, allow me to say what a tremendous help you've been to me and Our Great Nation in times of trouble, when I was atwitter with confusion about what diet(s) to go on, or what book to read, or even which Presidential candidate to support. Whenever confusion reigns, I know to simply turn on my television at 4 pm Eastern/3 pm Central, turn off my brain, and take in your wisdom, you Sorceress of Self-Esteem. As a result, I've naturally been so very busy reciting your helpful mantras like "Live your own dreams!" that I've flat run out of time to do stuff like form my own opinions about literature or American politics.

So imagine my uproarious delight upon learning that this very Friday, your Oprah store will open online, hence relieving our nation of our collective "shopping" thinking as well! I have so many favorites from your selection, which in large part is lovingly personalized with your very own signature, but following are a few particularly worthy picks:

(credit: The Oprah Store)

Not just any old yoga pants, but "O" yoga pants; see the embroidered initial on the right hip. Oprah, I can just imagine how life will change for me after this mere $44 investment! Just picture the flattering lighting and chirpy lines of workout encouragement these pants surely come with, in stark contrast to the mirthful laughter and reminders of today's York Peppermint Patty intake I currently receive from my Target-bought, "O"-free pants. . .

(credit: The Oprah Store)

I've had to divert HRH Pug's attention with a bone, so driven to retail distraction would he be by this fetching polo shirt! With the festive green "O" on the collar and red shirt color, this will make the perfect stocking stuffer for my little "man". And I can only imagine the look of delight and surprise on the Anonymous Husband's face upon his dog receiving festive Oprah apparel!

(credit: The Oprah Store)

Because your controlling my every waking thought is simply not sufficient, I'd like these drawstring "O" pj bottoms as well. Let there be no moment, slumbering or otherwise, when I am not at your command! And I mean that in a totally non-skeevy way! Exclamation point!

To conclude, Empress Winfrey, allow me to tell you how exceedingly grateful I and women across America are, to further line your glorious pockets with well-earned profits*. Or would be, that is, if we were able to form one single thought independent of you, you brilliant billionairess.

*CNN admittedly tells me here that certain profits from your Chicago retail store go to your Angel Network of charities, which is begrudgingly certainly to be commended.

Smootches,

Legallyblondemel,
Pretty HQ

PS - Ms. Winfrey, I hope the above doesn't suggest that I'm not excessively eager to attend an in-person taping of your show. On the contrary, I might secretly tune in to your show now and again. And be in awe of your admittedly inspiring life story and business savvy and eager for an excuse to visit Chicago again. So, if you're positively dying to have me attend a taping, my mailing address is above. I'll bring the Bolly, darling, if you'll send me some of that outrageous self-esteem . . .

Housekeeping

((said in that singsong-y manner of hotel room service knocking on your door at 7 am on a weekend morning))

Having recently really enjoyed blog Q&A sessions done by some of my favorite blogettes like you and you and you, I'm throwing caution to these fine fall winds tonight and opening up the comments for any questions you would like to ask of me. Since I am nothing if not helpful - and also currently sick and needing to do further investigation of this "Sex and the City" sequel confirmation (!) - I'll just give you a few brief examples, turn off the comments moderation (note to lurkers - welcome! Please feel free to chime in - so long as you're feeling polite, or else I'll turn it back on again immediately!), and get out of your way:

Example 1: "Are you really as pretentious/ self-centered/ materialistic as you come across as on your blog?"

Answer 1: Yes.


OK, I like to think I'm not. Truth is, my writing "voice" often comes out as my more over-the-top evil twin; in "real life", I don't actually talk in the third person, for example. Most of the time. Nor do I shop nearly as often as it may appear, although I might if I could (right after I'd saved the world and all that other good stuff). I blame my having watched far too much musical theater as a child, but whatever the cause, that voice just tends to take over my keyboard.

I also like my humor as I like my champagne - dry, and the tone of this can definitely get lost in internet translation. However, I truly do mean it all in good fun - 98.7% of the time. If someone is being offensive just for kicks, particularly towards a friend or family member, then my (white) gloves come off - quickly. However, I'm very likely joking around at any other time, but I realize and appreciate that not everyone has the same sense of humor or lack thereof.

Example 2: "When are you going to post a photo of yourself or something other than your dog?"

Would that I could, but given my conservative profession (read: I'd like to reserve the right to occasionally make fun of my co-workers), I'm choosing not to for the time being. Sometime in the near future - when I've retired to be the trophy wife I'm destined to become, for example - I hope to change this. In the meantime, I'm afraid you're stuck with Grace Kelly photos - who I closely resemble in real life anyways. Stop laughing.

Some of my readers do actually know me in real life (hello, my friends who never leave comments - feel free to chime in!) and can attest to the fact that I am not actually a 45-year old Ecuadorian father of three fantasizing about being Grace Kelly. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course, but I am what I write here, for better or worse.

Example 3: "What do you think about the newest 'Real Housewives' as set in Atlanta?"

I think the "Atlanta" wives are one bedazzled Gucci stiletto away from the nouveau apocalypse. I'm all about the OGs from the OC when it comes to "Housewives."

OK, I'm off to do a bit of investigative journalism . . . I'm both excited and terrified about this "SATC" sequel idea . . . so please fire away (politely). Because if you don't, I may have to withhold vital Target updates or something. I kid, I kid - happy almost weekend to you all!
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Important, Special Note to Private Bloggers Like Red & White Preppy: Yes, I'm positively dying to read your blogs; please send me a love note with your information to legallyblondemel at yahoo dot com. Thanks!

Relationship Re-Programming**

**From that title you're probably thinking I'm sending you to some scary cult insurgency camp in darkest Idaho, aren't you? Fear not, pets - I'm unfortunately far too fearful of camping and people like Tom Cruise for that sort of thing. Thank you for your understanding**

I was all set to wax fashionista tonight and dissect Michelle Obama's Narciso Rodriguez "victory dress", until this evening's Junior League project sucked the superficial right out of me. Well, most of it. Actually, it so happens that most of you other fashionable blogettes like The Preppy Princess and Ms. Mindless AND, you know, the LA Times beat me to the Narciso punch, so I'm afraid you're briefly stuck with me and my Deep Thoughts du Jour on this whole newlywed thing and how one has to adapt to new ways of thinking. I promise, this navel-gazing will be blissfully short and hopefully not as painfully "duh"-level obvious as it sounds. Besides, as a married lady of all of nearly two, yes two years, I figure I'm an expert by now, no?

So back when I was one of those sparkly "new" newlyweds with unicorns and rainbows prancing about my still-to-be-unwrapped wedding gifts, any new ways of thinking tended along the more superficial. The money and housing sort of Grown-Up Stuff wasn't really an issue. For little ol' me, it was that I took the Anonymous Husband's family name and, as a result, couldn't for the life of me politely introduce myself for our first marital year without: (1) feeling completely show-offy, as if I were braying "Hello, I'm Mrs. Legallyblondemel. Legallyblondemel, that is. What's that about a first name? I much prefer the formal Mrs."; and/or (2) forgetting whether or not an explanation of shiny new last name was even necessary in the first place. Being shamefully bad enough with other people's names, both first and last, it seemed reckless to take on a new one of my own, and it certainly took time to get the brain-to-mouth motor skills working on its behalf.

As the AH and I round the corner from years 2 to 3, I find the brain re-programming to be a tad more taxing in nature; lately, it's the taking any potential marital issues to my actual Anonymous Husband first prior to vivisecting them in excruciating detail first each time with the Girlfriend Committee ("GC"). Although it must be said the GC has the benefit of good champagne, the importance of which cannot be overemphasized. But back to the point assuming I have one - none of this is to say that I don't absolutely rely on the GC's counsel in almost all situations, but after twenty-some years of making most decisions by group vote, I am trying to be more mindful about, say, actually discussing them with the AH first when appropriate.

This is absolutely, definitely not my arguing that the GC shouldn't be consulted about some things - just that there are also a few bits that are best left in the marital circle, if for no other reason than many friends or family members (if they are anything like the Pretty, that is) remember every last *$&^ thing and will hold it against the Offender until the end of time. As well they should in many situations, of course; for example, I take great comfort in the fact that my family to this day loathes my 4th Grade Archnemesis for the unforgivable trickery she pulled at our end-of-the-school-year party (which involved embarrassment, Dainties, and an adorable boy). But seriously - I'm learning that there are times when it seems best to just do the spouse-to-spouse emotional warfare first, and that sometimes the good stuff is in figuring things out together. I know, this sounds unforgivably hokey - not to mention entirely impossible at times - but hopefully every solid marriage sees the unicorn-and-rainbows aspect even in the problem areas?

So what say you, internet GC - does this sound familiar to anyone else, singles and dating-s and affianced included? Any advice from the Marriage Experts out there? Please try to ignore the tremendous irony in my asking for your GC thoughts, after having just said it isn't something I should always rely on . . .

Preptastic Sale - Cole Haan

In even FURTHER attempt to distract you & me from Presidential Purgatory - and quite possibly to delay a certain gym visit - I bring you some more wintry goodies, courtesy of Cole Haan online. Thanks to a spiffy online coupon code - type GUEST9 for 30% off until November 9 (thanks to RetailMeNot - the anniversary present I mentioned yesterday (more on this unusual present setup later) is en route with significantly less damage to the marital war chest. Even on an election night, 30% off a pricey buy is something we can all feel patriotic about, no?

(credit: Cole Haan)

The magnificently horsey "Sierra Air Tall Boot" - note the stirrup leather and iron around the top - made even more magnificent by the fact that the Nike Air technology magic is inside of the boot. Cole Haan has been very naughty lately about putting the sporty bits on the outside of its shoes, so hats off to this return to form. In any event, having tried these on during my Manhattan adventure, I can attest to their comfy factor as well.

For anyone else in the boot market, some other worthy picks:

(credit: Cole Haan)

If you're looking for a more-on trend flat boot in the equestrian vein, I fancy this "Callan Tall Boot" as well.

(credit: Cole Haan)

The "Air Reina Tall Boot" for a more urban take on the flat, horsey boot. Those irritatingly stylish Manhattan girls might even approve of these, if you paired them with the right Marc Jacobs-y attire and scuffed them up enough to hide the prepster provenance.

And so my bring-winter-to-Texas internet raindance continues . . .

Why You Should Like My Friend Better Than Paris . . .

In a likely futile attempt to distract you gentle readers and myself from Election Returns Purgatory, I'd like to direct your attention to someone far more interesting than me . . . I mean, really more interesting than me. Who doesn't need to, say, hold random blog contests to obtain virtual friendships and defeat the evil one that is P. Hilton. Behold the electronic missive I just received from one of my bestest best friends, quoted in part to protect the identities of the far more intriguing:

". . . I'm leaving for Burma this week with Friend X . . . just a girls' trip through a leisurely totalitarian dictatorship . . . did I tell you about Sri Lanka, the archeological expedition? That should be fun."

Whereas the average email from me would read more along the lines of:

"So today I went to work and am pondering a gym visit, although that might interfere with my catching up on TiVo'd "The Office" episodes. On the other hand, maybe I'll just go hog wild and tackle my split ends instead. Decisions, decisions!"

Honestly, I have no idea why my funny, intriguing, stylish, intelligent, beautiful (yes, to make things supremely unfair, this BF is also incredibly good looking) best friends put up with me and my mundane self - and this isn't a compliment-fishing expedition here, truly - but emails like this remind me that I should do whatever is in my powers to bribe, trick, or lure them into assuring their continued BF support. On nights like this, when I feel queasy about The State of The Upcoming Union, I take comfort in knowing that the world at large has these people in it. If only because they are obviously going to take over the world (or Burma at the very least) one day, so best to stay on their good side . . .


(Important Note to the BF-J - love you, International Woman of Mystery.)

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A special thank-you for the clever girls at A Tale of Two Sisters for gifting me with a "Smile Award." I for one certainly smile when I see things like this on their fair site:

Thank you for making my day a bit more sparkly with this one, dolls.

Notes From a Fashion-y Weekend

It starts the minute I leave the plane & doesn't let up until I leave the place. When not otherwise wildly calculating how much good NYC food and art I can devour in the too-short time I have in the city, I'm thinking one of three things:

1) OK, I'm simply not cool enough to been in the same room with that fashion-y chick. In fact, I'd just as well give up now and hang out at Times Square with the rest of the faux-Coach bag toting tourists (faux Coach, people? For reals?) and just embrace my suburban non-hip-ness; or

2) Where can I sit for a few hours and take notes on the fashion-y chicks, so I know what trend is going to hit Austin or (fill in the blank non-NYC city) 6 months from now? Even though I can't possibly hope to pull off or, in some circumstances (looking at you, Skinny Jeans), want to pull off most of the hipster (speaking of, I hate the term "hipster", but can't come up with anything else - thoughts?) trends . . .

3) I fancy myself to be something of a sarcasm afficionado - not at black belt level, but rather an amateur devotee of the Snark Arts - but these people take tough to a whole 'nother level. This is no shock to, er, anyone, but it nonetheless surprises and (usually) delights me every time.

So this fabulous weekend was no exception, and in between Serious Theater Going - although I really should have smuggled in some vodka for this particular Russian playwright - and dining at not one yummy, embarrassingly celeb chef related restaurant, but TWO yummy, embarrassingly celeb chef related restaurants, I observed the following trends (from my mostly Midtown and SoHo perches, for you natives - guessing my time in Jersey at the Giants game should not be referenced in any fashion writing) soon to be seen / that will continue to be seen on mallgoing teenagers near you:***

***Important, Special Note to Readers: I make no representations that I actually know what I'm talking about here, aside from, you know, not being blind. Plus, I like to make judgments about total strangers. Thank you for your understanding.

1) The braids thing was everywhere - still. Certainly this trend has been kicking around for a while, but Manhattan was the first time I've seen it on a, you know, actual live person - not even the tragically hip Urban Youths trolling about their South Congress wilds here in Austin have trotted this one out to the best of my spying knowledge. After seeing Lauren Conrad do this look over and over again - not that I watch shows like "The Hills", mind you - I'm surprised to see this trend still going on:

(credit: The Hollywood Gossip via Flickr)

2) Skinny jeans - on men. SKINNY JEANS ON MEN. (Edited to Add: I've seen this amongst the tragically hip of Austin as well, just not in such frightening numbers. Gaah.) Just when I have almost - almost - come to terms with women who, under their own free will and American Express account, willingly purchase jeans guaranteed to make your assets look larger than necessary. . . . I cannot take a man seriously who wears skinny jeans. There, I said it. Massive overgeneralization, yes, and I'm happy to be proven wrong here - perhaps if Johnny Depp wanted to prove me incorrect in person? - but nonetheless, no no no no no no NO.

3) Anyone still have their "Reality Bites" VHS tape and memories of Winona Ryder pre-arrest? Good, because by all the flannel shirts and jackets I saw, 1992 is back. This takeover doesn't look as prevalent as the skinny jeans disastertrend, but I saw it often enough to take note.

4) Knee-high boots atop the skinny jeans, preferably flat/slouchy or equestrian-inspired (like these gorgeous Cole Haans en route to me thanks to my marrying the right guy - thanks, AH!). Again, this has been around for a while, but it seems like things are going either in the 80s slouchy or traditional, horsey (yay!) direction. Special bonus points to the few uber-hipsters with the beaten-to-death motorcycle boots going on - can one buy them looking that trashed, or is the idea that you just wear them until they fall apart?

New Yorkers, does this sound about right to you? Or are these everywhere now, and I've been too lost in my little pink-and-green enclave to notice?