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!

Adventures in Vanity, Weekend Edition

With the Anonymous Husband away, I've enjoyed a particularly productive SSB weekend. Amongst other fun, here's the Narcissistic News that's fit to print:


Photofacial: As part of my quest to be Prettier Than Everyone Else, I went for one of these facials today, which are meant to be helpful for us fair, freckly, paranoid about aging sorts. I decided to bump things up a notch facially, but not quite as far as we did that one time with the acid peel right before a South Beach bachelorette party. Trying to get into Nikki Beach looking like you've made it to second base with a meatgrinder isn't an experience I'd wish on anyone; my peelage was so bad that I had to be hidden behind our Boob Buddy to make it past the bouncers.

But I digress . . . given the scary-looking instrument thingy and numbing cream involved, the photofacial was surprisingly pain-free. Afterwards, I felt slightly numb and warm, as if I had a nice tan on my face. I am assured by my aesthetician that there will be no down time; we all know what (baldfaced liars) wildly optimistic sorts these ladies often are, but so far, I only have slight darkening where the freckles are meant to disappear and a wonderful, taut (not Nicole Kidman Botox-attack taut, just pleasantly firm) feel. Has anyone else done one and/or happen to know if my face will fall off in a day or so?

Shopping: Because I believe in following through on my promises, I also implemented my Economic Stimulus Package to great effect. Behold the following on-sale, tax free, coupon-discounted finds at Banana:

(important note: not sure why this model looks so gastrically distressed in manner of stern algebra teacher; this is actually a wildly flattering top for those of us hoping to emphasize the chesticles. Back to the point - this one comes in a number of great jewel tones & Tory-esque patterns.)

(white eyelet blazer, to be added to my burgeoning "Texas air conditioning protection" collection. Was $60 off the original price before the additional discounts. Lots of good summer picks on sale right now.)

I also investigated the fall Lilly line and was impressed with the daywear. Because we also believe in having a Pretty Savings Account, appearances notwithstanding, I displayed massively impressive self-restraint and put these on the list for next month's purchases:

(both the Chanel-esque cardigan and the completely adorable top beneath. Tough to see, but the top has this wonderful snaffle-bit pattern and squared off neckline.)

(loving the horsey, Betty Draper-esque trend. This is one I can feel good about; although I may be a poser about a lot of things, riding horses isn't one of them. Although if I stopped buying nice clothes, perhaps I could once again afford an actual horse . . . )

Over at Neiman's, we again displayed monumental self-restraint amidst the impressive sales that were going on, and just noted the strength of the Milly and Theory collections in particular:

(Yes, it's 1,500,000 degrees here at present. Yes, I want it anyways.)

(Did all that tomato red at the Oscars kick this off? Whatever the reason, bravo.)

And this little handbag started flirting with me from across the cosmetics department. Intrigued by its siren call and beautiful frame, I approached tentatively. After some small talk, I informed the handbag that with its trendy violet color, it unfortunately fell into the Fall Fling sort of purchase, and that I'm more in the market for a Lifetime Investment Bag at that price point. Marc Jacobs, you nearly lured me in again, you saucy minx!

September "Vogue": In further proof that the universe sometimes gets things exactly right, the ginormous September "Vogue" appeared in my mailbox the very same day AH departed. I could have used his help to lug the beast inside, unfortch, but all 798-pages and I somehow made it directly over to my couch.

Don't let yourself be put off by the inexplicably awful cover - the ever-hilarious Fug Girls dissect this in detail here - because there's some good stuff inside, including:

• Attention Power Preps: according to Cole Haan, loafers with actual pennies in them are back - in fun colors and patent leather this time. BF-J will never speak to me again if I purchase these, having made me take a blood oath to burn my loafers years ago, but those of you not under a Fashion Fatwa might be able to enjoy:
  

• An excerpt from Candace Bushnell's (the original "SATC" author) new book is included. From the passage, it looks promising - there's even a self-deprecating Mr. Big joke - but I've been fooled by Ms. Bushnell before. In stark contrast to the TV show, I tend to find her written characters a tad one-dimensional even while they are compelling, but I'll surely fork over the $24.95 only to prove this to myself again.

I'm off for a restorative SSB merlot . . . hope you all had an equally fabulous weekend.