Bed Habits: Linen Spray from Jane Inc. and Crabtree & Evelyn

Part of my morning ritual of making my bed is spraying the pillows, comforters and quilt with a lavender linen mist (or sometimes with perfume. There was a week I used Louve every day, and another time it was Bandit. Don't ask). Some of the people reading this are raising an eyebrow. The rest are scent addicts and either already do something similar or are planning to start.

My linen mist of choice for years was the wonderful but little known Sweet Sheets Bedding Spray from Jane Inc. (they also have a laundry detergent and fabric rinse, both excellent, but their dryer sheets are pretty much crap).

The other thing I do to scent my bedroom is using Crabtree & Evelyn lavender home fragrance oil in a lamp ring. Occasionally I switch to the Rosewater scent, but most of the time it's lavender. That's why I decided to give their linen mist a try. I was quite enthusiast, because the Crabtree & Evelyn spray comes in a bottle twice the size of Jane's.

Scent-wise, I like both. Jane's is more astringent and very true to the fragrance in their laundry products, which satisfies me on some weird level. The Crabtree & Evelyn smells very much like the lavender in my back yard. It's a little softer than Jane with just a hint of powderiness. I could have been very happy with it if only it lingered and actually scented the linens. It's quite an amazing phenomenon: I spray it on the bed, but five seconds later I can't smell a thing, so forget about having a lightly scented bed. Jane's Sweet Sheets, on the other hand, is still detectable when I climb into bed some 16 hours later.

Bed Habits: Linen Spray from Jane Inc. and Crabtree & Evelyn

Part of my morning ritual of making my bed is spraying the pillows, comforters and quilt with a lavender linen mist (or sometimes with perfume. There was a week I used Louve every day, and another time it was Bandit. Don't ask). Some of the people reading this are raising an eyebrow. The rest are scent addicts and either already do something similar or are planning to start.

My linen mist of choice for years was the wonderful but little known Sweet Sheets Bedding Spray from Jane Inc. (they also have a laundry detergent and fabric rinse, both excellent, but their dryer sheets are pretty much crap).

The other thing I do to scent my bedroom is using Crabtree & Evelyn lavender home fragrance oil in a lamp ring. Occasionally I switch to the Rosewater scent, but most of the time it's lavender. That's why I decided to give their linen mist a try. I was quite enthusiast, because the Crabtree & Evelyn spray comes in a bottle twice the size of Jane's.

Scent-wise, I like both. Jane's is more astringent and very true to the fragrance in their laundry products, which satisfies me on some weird level. The Crabtree & Evelyn smells very much like the lavender in my back yard. It's a little softer than Jane with just a hint of powderiness. I could have been very happy with it if only it lingered and actually scented the linens. It's quite an amazing phenomenon: I spray it on the bed, but five seconds later I can't smell a thing, so forget about having a lightly scented bed. Jane's Sweet Sheets, on the other hand, is still detectable when I climb into bed some 16 hours later.

Bed Habits: Linen Spray from Jane Inc. and Crabtree & Evelyn

Part of my morning ritual of making my bed is spraying the pillows, comforters and quilt with a lavender linen mist (or sometimes with perfume. There was a week I used Louve every day, and another time it was Bandit. Don't ask). Some of the people reading this are raising an eyebrow. The rest are scent addicts and either already do something similar or are planning to start.

My linen mist of choice for years was the wonderful but little known Sweet Sheets Bedding Spray from Jane Inc. (they also have a laundry detergent and fabric rinse, both excellent, but their dryer sheets are pretty much crap).

The other thing I do to scent my bedroom is using Crabtree & Evelyn lavender home fragrance oil in a lamp ring. Occasionally I switch to the Rosewater scent, but most of the time it's lavender. That's why I decided to give their linen mist a try. I was quite enthusiast, because the Crabtree & Evelyn spray comes in a bottle twice the size of Jane's.

Scent-wise, I like both. Jane's is more astringent and very true to the fragrance in their laundry products, which satisfies me on some weird level. The Crabtree & Evelyn smells very much like the lavender in my back yard. It's a little softer than Jane with just a hint of powderiness. I could have been very happy with it if only it lingered and actually scented the linens. It's quite an amazing phenomenon: I spray it on the bed, but five seconds later I can't smell a thing, so forget about having a lightly scented bed. Jane's Sweet Sheets, on the other hand, is still detectable when I climb into bed some 16 hours later.

The Obligatory Sex And The City NY Premier Commentary

I have to be honest here: while I was really excited about the release of Sex And The City: The Movie (just think of the shoes), nothing turns me off as quickly as over-hype. But since I'm here for the pretty, the shiny and the snarky, let's ignore the PR machine and look at the dresses:


Sarah Jessica Parker skipped the crazy hat, and instead chose a gorgeous Nina Ricci gown. I watched the red carpet arrivals on E! (though I kept it on mute. I have done nothing so bad as to deserve another Juliana Rancic show), and there was also a questionable pair of shoes, thankfully hidden under the dress and a vintage looking clutch. I love everything about her look. The hair is her trademark and the makeup focused on her eyes, her best feature.



Kristin Davis made an unfortunate choice with her Donna Karan dress. I hoped it just didn't photograph well, but it was just as horrid on screen. Stiff, promish and the length is in what Tim Gunn calls "the frumpy zone".



It seems that I'm the only one who liked Cynthia Nixon's Narciso Rodriguez dress. While her co-stars have gone metallic, Cynthia is pale and ethereal. I think she looks lovely.

Kim Cattrall has apparently trying to orchestrate a wardrobe malfunction since the Toronto premier (see this photo). Still no nip-slip, but she looks dangerously close.


What do you think? Who is your favorite? And why does Matthew Broderick look mostly-dead?

The Obligatory Sex And The City NY Premier Commentary

I have to be honest here: while I was really excited about the release of Sex And The City: The Movie (just think of the shoes), nothing turns me off as quickly as over-hype. But since I'm here for the pretty, the shiny and the snarky, let's ignore the PR machine and look at the dresses:


Sarah Jessica Parker skipped the crazy hat, and instead chose a gorgeous Nina Ricci gown. I watched the red carpet arrivals on E! (though I kept it on mute. I have done nothing so bad as to deserve another Juliana Rancic show), and there was also a questionable pair of shoes, thankfully hidden under the dress and a vintage looking clutch. I love everything about her look. The hair is her trademark and the makeup focused on her eyes, her best feature.



Kristin Davis made an unfortunate choice with her Donna Karan dress. I hoped it just didn't photograph well, but it was just as horrid on screen. Stiff, promish and the length is in what Tim Gunn calls "the frumpy zone".



It seems that I'm the only one who liked Cynthia Nixon's Narciso Rodriguez dress. While her co-stars have gone metallic, Cynthia is pale and ethereal. I think she looks lovely.

Kim Cattrall has apparently trying to orchestrate a wardrobe malfunction since the Toronto premier (see this photo). Still no nip-slip, but she looks dangerously close.


What do you think? Who is your favorite? And why does Matthew Broderick look mostly-dead?

The Obligatory Sex And The City NY Premier Commentary

I have to be honest here: while I was really excited about the release of Sex And The City: The Movie (just think of the shoes), nothing turns me off as quickly as over-hype. But since I'm here for the pretty, the shiny and the snarky, let's ignore the PR machine and look at the dresses:


Sarah Jessica Parker skipped the crazy hat, and instead chose a gorgeous Nina Ricci gown. I watched the red carpet arrivals on E! (though I kept it on mute. I have done nothing so bad as to deserve another Juliana Rancic show), and there was also a questionable pair of shoes, thankfully hidden under the dress and a vintage looking clutch. I love everything about her look. The hair is her trademark and the makeup focused on her eyes, her best feature.



Kristin Davis made an unfortunate choice with her Donna Karan dress. I hoped it just didn't photograph well, but it was just as horrid on screen. Stiff, promish and the length is in what Tim Gunn calls "the frumpy zone".



It seems that I'm the only one who liked Cynthia Nixon's Narciso Rodriguez dress. While her co-stars have gone metallic, Cynthia is pale and ethereal. I think she looks lovely.

Kim Cattrall has apparently trying to orchestrate a wardrobe malfunction since the Toronto premier (see this photo). Still no nip-slip, but she looks dangerously close.


What do you think? Who is your favorite? And why does Matthew Broderick look mostly-dead?

Chanel Aqualumiere Gloss

Even for the most jaded lip gloss user/collector, she who has more tubes than she'll ever admit, and feels she has tried everything, a new lip product from Chanel is always a must-try (and a must-have. That's just how it works).

The new Chanel Aqualumiere high shine gloss is the latest addition to the Aqualumiere line that also offers some fabulous sheer lipsticks. This is a different product than the classic Glossimer: A lot less shimmer, a smoother texture and more shine. It might be a bit more sticky than some Glossimers, but not by much, and never to an annoying degree. The colors are very sheer and you need to build them up if you want to get the exact effect you see in the tube. As a result, even the darkest shade available, Bubble Plum, is far less scary or intense than it looks, and as a result, very wearable, even if you are paler than me.

As a a matter of fact, Bubble Plum was the only color that looked good on me. The other colors, pretty as they are, were much too light. My rule is that lip products have to add color, not to take away (obviously, Jennifer Lopez doesn't share my ideas), and that was the only one that worked. A light-handed application gives just a touch of plummish color, very suitable for days and looks good with a light (fake) tan. You can add another dollop or two for a sexier look. The brush applicator required some practice (I prefer sponges, but it's not that big of an issue), though once you get the hang of it, delivers a perfect and precise coverage.

Staying power: moderate. It doesn't survive lunch or kissing, but half the fun is in reapplying.

All in all, another little happiness in a tube. I hope to see more colors join the range.

Aqualumiere gloss is available from every good department store that has a Chanel counter, as well as from the official Chanel website. I bought mine at the local Saks for $26.

Chanel Aqualumiere Gloss

Even for the most jaded lip gloss user/collector, she who has more tubes than she'll ever admit, and feels she has tried everything, a new lip product from Chanel is always a must-try (and a must-have. That's just how it works).

The new Chanel Aqualumiere high shine gloss is the latest addition to the Aqualumiere line that also offers some fabulous sheer lipsticks. This is a different product than the classic Glossimer: A lot less shimmer, a smoother texture and more shine. It might be a bit more sticky than some Glossimers, but not by much, and never to an annoying degree. The colors are very sheer and you need to build them up if you want to get the exact effect you see in the tube. As a result, even the darkest shade available, Bubble Plum, is far less scary or intense than it looks, and as a result, very wearable, even if you are paler than me.

As a a matter of fact, Bubble Plum was the only color that looked good on me. The other colors, pretty as they are, were much too light. My rule is that lip products have to add color, not to take away (obviously, Jennifer Lopez doesn't share my ideas), and that was the only one that worked. A light-handed application gives just a touch of plummish color, very suitable for days and looks good with a light (fake) tan. You can add another dollop or two for a sexier look. The brush applicator required some practice (I prefer sponges, but it's not that big of an issue), though once you get the hang of it, delivers a perfect and precise coverage.

Staying power: moderate. It doesn't survive lunch or kissing, but half the fun is in reapplying.

All in all, another little happiness in a tube. I hope to see more colors join the range.

Aqualumiere gloss is available from every good department store that has a Chanel counter, as well as from the official Chanel website. I bought mine at the local Saks for $26.

Chanel Aqualumiere Gloss

Even for the most jaded lip gloss user/collector, she who has more tubes than she'll ever admit, and feels she has tried everything, a new lip product from Chanel is always a must-try (and a must-have. That's just how it works).

The new Chanel Aqualumiere high shine gloss is the latest addition to the Aqualumiere line that also offers some fabulous sheer lipsticks. This is a different product than the classic Glossimer: A lot less shimmer, a smoother texture and more shine. It might be a bit more sticky than some Glossimers, but not by much, and never to an annoying degree. The colors are very sheer and you need to build them up if you want to get the exact effect you see in the tube. As a result, even the darkest shade available, Bubble Plum, is far less scary or intense than it looks, and as a result, very wearable, even if you are paler than me.

As a a matter of fact, Bubble Plum was the only color that looked good on me. The other colors, pretty as they are, were much too light. My rule is that lip products have to add color, not to take away (obviously, Jennifer Lopez doesn't share my ideas), and that was the only one that worked. A light-handed application gives just a touch of plummish color, very suitable for days and looks good with a light (fake) tan. You can add another dollop or two for a sexier look. The brush applicator required some practice (I prefer sponges, but it's not that big of an issue), though once you get the hang of it, delivers a perfect and precise coverage.

Staying power: moderate. It doesn't survive lunch or kissing, but half the fun is in reapplying.

All in all, another little happiness in a tube. I hope to see more colors join the range.

Aqualumiere gloss is available from every good department store that has a Chanel counter, as well as from the official Chanel website. I bought mine at the local Saks for $26.

The Lost Perfumes: My Sin by Lanvin

(I can't come up with a better title than the name of the perfume, created in 1924 by Madam Zed for the Lanvin fashion house and discontinued years ago)

I never met my maternal grandmother. She was a doctor, quite well-known in Vilnius of the 1950s and early 60s. She was probably equally famous for her looks as well as for the scandal of divorcing my high-powered attorney grandfather in 1955. Photos show an incredibly beautiful and stylish woman with dark hair and green eyes. My mom says the only thing sharper than my grandmother's tongue, was her fashion sense and knack for accessorizing. I only have one thing of hers, an amber necklace, made with half polished stones. It's bold and always makes a statement.

She had secrets, affairs and quite a bit of a temper. Her clothes were tailor-made from patterns and fabrics imported from Paris (not a simple task during those years in Communist Lithuania). she wore red lipstick and loved perfume (also smuggled from France). My mom says she didn't have one signature perfume, but always had several of the classics, like Chanel no. 5 and Arpege on her dresser.

I don't like Arpege, though I probably should give the vintage another chance. The Lanvin perfume that makes me think of my lost grandmother is My Sin. The unapologetic name of this fragrance fits the image in mind, as well as the scent itself.

I have a bottle of the vintage extrait, bought on eBay not only sealed, but also wrapped in the original paper. I was a little disappointed the first time I smelled the opening notes. The aldehydes were still fully there, unclouded by the years (my eternal thanks to whoever kept it so well stored), together with the other notes, giving it that almost-generic vintage classic air. But I kept wearing it, studying the development and learning to appreciate its secret.

The opening and the classic floral middle notes still give me a similar feeling like some vintage Guerlains (other than Shalimar. That one starts bellydancing as soon as I put it on) and vintage Calèche, and I almost reach for my pearls. But just almost. It doesn't take long before My Sin moves into the more interesting parts. The base notes are supposedly vetiver, vanilla, musk, woods, tolu balsam, styrax (according to Wikipedia that's benzoin, which is a great relief as I willing to swear I was smelling benzoin) and civet. I can't say I get any vetiver here. Actually, the fragrance is so well blended (other that or my bottle is just old), that other than benzoin no note really stands out to me. It just morphs into a stunning animalic stage, light years away from the pearl and cashmere of the opening, with only a hint of understated sweetness. After a while it settles very close to the skin, a ghost of past sins and memories.

I wish it lasted longer than the 2-3 hours I'm getting from it, because I'd like to explore it and have a little more fun. Every time I put it on, I discover another facet, but still I feel like I'm missing on some big secret that feel forever lost.

Images: Okadi.com, eBay and Ad Vault.

The Lost Perfumes: My Sin by Lanvin

(I can't come up with a better title than the name of the perfume, created in 1924 by Madam Zed for the Lanvin fashion house and discontinued years ago)

I never met my maternal grandmother. She was a doctor, quite well-known in Vilnius of the 1950s and early 60s. She was probably equally famous for her looks as well as for the scandal of divorcing my high-powered attorney grandfather in 1955. Photos show an incredibly beautiful and stylish woman with dark hair and green eyes. My mom says the only thing sharper than my grandmother's tongue, was her fashion sense and knack for accessorizing. I only have one thing of hers, an amber necklace, made with half polished stones. It's bold and always makes a statement.

She had secrets, affairs and quite a bit of a temper. Her clothes were tailor-made from patterns and fabrics imported from Paris (not a simple task during those years in Communist Lithuania). she wore red lipstick and loved perfume (also smuggled from France). My mom says she didn't have one signature perfume, but always had several of the classics, like Chanel no. 5 and Arpege on her dresser.

I don't like Arpege, though I probably should give the vintage another chance. The Lanvin perfume that makes me think of my lost grandmother is My Sin. The unapologetic name of this fragrance fits the image in mind, as well as the scent itself.

I have a bottle of the vintage extrait, bought on eBay not only sealed, but also wrapped in the original paper. I was a little disappointed the first time I smelled the opening notes. The aldehydes were still fully there, unclouded by the years (my eternal thanks to whoever kept it so well stored), together with the other notes, giving it that almost-generic vintage classic air. But I kept wearing it, studying the development and learning to appreciate its secret.

The opening and the classic floral middle notes still give me a similar feeling like some vintage Guerlains (other than Shalimar. That one starts bellydancing as soon as I put it on) and vintage Calèche, and I almost reach for my pearls. But just almost. It doesn't take long before My Sin moves into the more interesting parts. The base notes are supposedly vetiver, vanilla, musk, woods, tolu balsam, styrax (according to Wikipedia that's benzoin, which is a great relief as I willing to swear I was smelling benzoin) and civet. I can't say I get any vetiver here. Actually, the fragrance is so well blended (other that or my bottle is just old), that other than benzoin no note really stands out to me. It just morphs into a stunning animalic stage, light years away from the pearl and cashmere of the opening, with only a hint of understated sweetness. After a while it settles very close to the skin, a ghost of past sins and memories.

I wish it lasted longer than the 2-3 hours I'm getting from it, because I'd like to explore it and have a little more fun. Every time I put it on, I discover another facet, but still I feel like I'm missing on some big secret that feel forever lost.

Images: Okadi.com, eBay and Ad Vault.

The Lost Perfumes: My Sin by Lanvin

(I can't come up with a better title than the name of the perfume, created in 1924 by Madam Zed for the Lanvin fashion house and discontinued years ago)

I never met my maternal grandmother. She was a doctor, quite well-known in Vilnius of the 1950s and early 60s. She was probably equally famous for her looks as well as for the scandal of divorcing my high-powered attorney grandfather in 1955. Photos show an incredibly beautiful and stylish woman with dark hair and green eyes. My mom says the only thing sharper than my grandmother's tongue, was her fashion sense and knack for accessorizing. I only have one thing of hers, an amber necklace, made with half polished stones. It's bold and always makes a statement.

She had secrets, affairs and quite a bit of a temper. Her clothes were tailor-made from patterns and fabrics imported from Paris (not a simple task during those years in Communist Lithuania). she wore red lipstick and loved perfume (also smuggled from France). My mom says she didn't have one signature perfume, but always had several of the classics, like Chanel no. 5 and Arpege on her dresser.

I don't like Arpege, though I probably should give the vintage another chance. The Lanvin perfume that makes me think of my lost grandmother is My Sin. The unapologetic name of this fragrance fits the image in mind, as well as the scent itself.

I have a bottle of the vintage extrait, bought on eBay not only sealed, but also wrapped in the original paper. I was a little disappointed the first time I smelled the opening notes. The aldehydes were still fully there, unclouded by the years (my eternal thanks to whoever kept it so well stored), together with the other notes, giving it that almost-generic vintage classic air. But I kept wearing it, studying the development and learning to appreciate its secret.

The opening and the classic floral middle notes still give me a similar feeling like some vintage Guerlains (other than Shalimar. That one starts bellydancing as soon as I put it on) and vintage Calèche, and I almost reach for my pearls. But just almost. It doesn't take long before My Sin moves into the more interesting parts. The base notes are supposedly vetiver, vanilla, musk, woods, tolu balsam, styrax (according to Wikipedia that's benzoin, which is a great relief as I willing to swear I was smelling benzoin) and civet. I can't say I get any vetiver here. Actually, the fragrance is so well blended (other that or my bottle is just old), that other than benzoin no note really stands out to me. It just morphs into a stunning animalic stage, light years away from the pearl and cashmere of the opening, with only a hint of understated sweetness. After a while it settles very close to the skin, a ghost of past sins and memories.

I wish it lasted longer than the 2-3 hours I'm getting from it, because I'd like to explore it and have a little more fun. Every time I put it on, I discover another facet, but still I feel like I'm missing on some big secret that feel forever lost.

Images: Okadi.com, eBay and Ad Vault.

The Little Black Book Of Style by Nina Garcia- A Book Review

I didn't expect to like Nina Garcia's book, The Little Black Book of Style. As a matter of fact, I bought the book months ago but haven't touched it and let the pile of books sitting on top of it grow so tall until Miss Lizzy Kitten knocked them all down every time she jumped on top. The truth is that while I love Project Runway, Nina Garcia isn't the reason. She doesn't annoy me nearly half as much as Michael Kors does, but honestly, aren't we all there for Tim Gunn?

I tried to remember anything special she wore on the show, but only came up with "sleeveless", "black" and " an oversized necklace". My impression was that she's always well put together, but doesn't steal the show, which is probably a sign of both good taste and common sense. When you think of it, the 42 year old future fashion director of Marie Claire (Elle Magazine gave her the boot recently) is a pretty good source for style guidance. And she's a proud non-blonde, despite the perfect highlights.

The book puts some flesh on the glossy image. There are a few biographical notes from her Colombian childhood and New England prep school education. We get a glimpse of the elements that shaped Ms. Garcia's fashion sense, and I found myself becoming fond of her, despite her endorsement of fur. Probably because I share many of her ideas regarding style: wear things that fit you perfectly and make you look good while ignoring ugly trends, don't be a fashion victim, don't play safe unless the occasion demands it, go for interesting accessories that speak to you personally, mix things up and buy lots and lots of shoes.

The book expands on all of the above, explains the basics every woman needs (very similar to Tim Gunn's ten essentials: trench coat, cashmere sweater, the LBD, a well-cut dark pair of jeans, a white shirt and more), speaks about finding inspiration (actually, I'm getting fed-up with the Audrey Hepburn talk. Yes, she was amazing. Yes, she was gorgeous. Yes, she was the chicest of them all. But, in reality, unless your name is Natalie Portman, you can't pull it off).

I loved Nina Garcia's definition of a fashion victim (besides her obsession with the "it" bag, a concept she and I both despise): "...count the designer pieces she's wearing. She'll usually help you out by putting the labels on conspicuous display". It reminded me of this photo from two weeks ago (courtesy of Hollywood Rag):


There's some good advice about dressing right for different occasions (Q: What to wear for a wedding? A: Don't be a bridesmaid), she deciphers the mystery of event dress code (what exactly is "creative black tie" or "smart casual"?), encouragement to invest in lingerie and cliff notes of fashion history (I wish this section of the book was longer and deeper, as I find it more inspiring than talking about Uma Thurman's white shirt in Pulp Fiction). The part I found most useless, though, was the brief interviews with designers and other prominent fashion figures (blahblahblah confidence blahblahblah be yourself blahblahblah Audrey Hepburn blahblahblah black turtleneck. You've heard it all before).

Bottom line: a fun read that actually makes sense. A fabulous gift for the young or for yourself if you've been stuck in a rut for too many years and need to find a new path. Worth reading if you find yourself having to pass some time at Barnes & Noble on a rainy afternoon.

The Little Black Book of Style is available from every book seller. I got mine from Amazon (cover price is $17.95, you'll probably find it for less).

The Little Black Book Of Style by Nina Garcia- A Book Review

I didn't expect to like Nina Garcia's book, The Little Black Book of Style. As a matter of fact, I bought the book months ago but haven't touched it and let the pile of books sitting on top of it grow so tall until Miss Lizzy Kitten knocked them all down every time she jumped on top. The truth is that while I love Project Runway, Nina Garcia isn't the reason. She doesn't annoy me nearly half as much as Michael Kors does, but honestly, aren't we all there for Tim Gunn?

I tried to remember anything special she wore on the show, but only came up with "sleeveless", "black" and " an oversized necklace". My impression was that she's always well put together, but doesn't steal the show, which is probably a sign of both good taste and common sense. When you think of it, the 42 year old future fashion director of Marie Claire (Elle Magazine gave her the boot recently) is a pretty good source for style guidance. And she's a proud non-blonde, despite the perfect highlights.

The book puts some flesh on the glossy image. There are a few biographical notes from her Colombian childhood and New England prep school education. We get a glimpse of the elements that shaped Ms. Garcia's fashion sense, and I found myself becoming fond of her, despite her endorsement of fur. Probably because I share many of her ideas regarding style: wear things that fit you perfectly and make you look good while ignoring ugly trends, don't be a fashion victim, don't play safe unless the occasion demands it, go for interesting accessories that speak to you personally, mix things up and buy lots and lots of shoes.

The book expands on all of the above, explains the basics every woman needs (very similar to Tim Gunn's ten essentials: trench coat, cashmere sweater, the LBD, a well-cut dark pair of jeans, a white shirt and more), speaks about finding inspiration (actually, I'm getting fed-up with the Audrey Hepburn talk. Yes, she was amazing. Yes, she was gorgeous. Yes, she was the chicest of them all. But, in reality, unless your name is Natalie Portman, you can't pull it off).

I loved Nina Garcia's definition of a fashion victim (besides her obsession with the "it" bag, a concept she and I both despise): "...count the designer pieces she's wearing. She'll usually help you out by putting the labels on conspicuous display". It reminded me of this photo from two weeks ago (courtesy of Hollywood Rag):


There's some good advice about dressing right for different occasions (Q: What to wear for a wedding? A: Don't be a bridesmaid), she deciphers the mystery of event dress code (what exactly is "creative black tie" or "smart casual"?), encouragement to invest in lingerie and cliff notes of fashion history (I wish this section of the book was longer and deeper, as I find it more inspiring than talking about Uma Thurman's white shirt in Pulp Fiction). The part I found most useless, though, was the brief interviews with designers and other prominent fashion figures (blahblahblah confidence blahblahblah be yourself blahblahblah Audrey Hepburn blahblahblah black turtleneck. You've heard it all before).

Bottom line: a fun read that actually makes sense. A fabulous gift for the young or for yourself if you've been stuck in a rut for too many years and need to find a new path. Worth reading if you find yourself having to pass some time at Barnes & Noble on a rainy afternoon.

The Little Black Book of Style is available from every book seller. I got mine from Amazon (cover price is $17.95, you'll probably find it for less).

The Little Black Book Of Style by Nina Garcia- A Book Review

I didn't expect to like Nina Garcia's book, The Little Black Book of Style. As a matter of fact, I bought the book months ago but haven't touched it and let the pile of books sitting on top of it grow so tall until Miss Lizzy Kitten knocked them all down every time she jumped on top. The truth is that while I love Project Runway, Nina Garcia isn't the reason. She doesn't annoy me nearly half as much as Michael Kors does, but honestly, aren't we all there for Tim Gunn?

I tried to remember anything special she wore on the show, but only came up with "sleeveless", "black" and " an oversized necklace". My impression was that she's always well put together, but doesn't steal the show, which is probably a sign of both good taste and common sense. When you think of it, the 42 year old future fashion director of Marie Claire (Elle Magazine gave her the boot recently) is a pretty good source for style guidance. And she's a proud non-blonde, despite the perfect highlights.

The book puts some flesh on the glossy image. There are a few biographical notes from her Colombian childhood and New England prep school education. We get a glimpse of the elements that shaped Ms. Garcia's fashion sense, and I found myself becoming fond of her, despite her endorsement of fur. Probably because I share many of her ideas regarding style: wear things that fit you perfectly and make you look good while ignoring ugly trends, don't be a fashion victim, don't play safe unless the occasion demands it, go for interesting accessories that speak to you personally, mix things up and buy lots and lots of shoes.

The book expands on all of the above, explains the basics every woman needs (very similar to Tim Gunn's ten essentials: trench coat, cashmere sweater, the LBD, a well-cut dark pair of jeans, a white shirt and more), speaks about finding inspiration (actually, I'm getting fed-up with the Audrey Hepburn talk. Yes, she was amazing. Yes, she was gorgeous. Yes, she was the chicest of them all. But, in reality, unless your name is Natalie Portman, you can't pull it off).

I loved Nina Garcia's definition of a fashion victim (besides her obsession with the "it" bag, a concept she and I both despise): "...count the designer pieces she's wearing. She'll usually help you out by putting the labels on conspicuous display". It reminded me of this photo from two weeks ago (courtesy of Hollywood Rag):


There's some good advice about dressing right for different occasions (Q: What to wear for a wedding? A: Don't be a bridesmaid), she deciphers the mystery of event dress code (what exactly is "creative black tie" or "smart casual"?), encouragement to invest in lingerie and cliff notes of fashion history (I wish this section of the book was longer and deeper, as I find it more inspiring than talking about Uma Thurman's white shirt in Pulp Fiction). The part I found most useless, though, was the brief interviews with designers and other prominent fashion figures (blahblahblah confidence blahblahblah be yourself blahblahblah Audrey Hepburn blahblahblah black turtleneck. You've heard it all before).

Bottom line: a fun read that actually makes sense. A fabulous gift for the young or for yourself if you've been stuck in a rut for too many years and need to find a new path. Worth reading if you find yourself having to pass some time at Barnes & Noble on a rainy afternoon.

The Little Black Book of Style is available from every book seller. I got mine from Amazon (cover price is $17.95, you'll probably find it for less).

Cherry Ice Cream Smile I Suppose It's Very Nice- Caress Brazilian Exotic Oil Infusion Body Wash

As far as my skin is concerned, testing mass market bath products is like playing a Russian Roulette. I'm allergic to several of them, as well as to some of the most popular shampoos, and have stories to tell that are only funny in retrospect. And if you're not me.

The reason I even agreed to try Caress Brazilian Exotic Oil Infusion body wash was the promise of a unique cream and oil formula, and the mental image of sleek Brazilian bodies (stop laughing). What didn't take into account were a) that they promote this product using Nicole from the Pussycat Dolls who sings butchers a staple of my long lost youth, Duran Duran's Rio (you're still laughing. Stop it), and b) that people's idea of a tropical Brazilian scent is death by mango.

Now, I can try and forget that I've ever heard this version. But getting over the initial fruity blast (plastic passion flower) I got when opening the lid was harder, and the bottle was put aside until I got braver. The good news is that when actually pouring some out onto my loofah it was less sugary juice and more of a Piña Colada. And I'm marginally fond of Piña Colada, even if I'm not sure I need to smell like it.

The good news continue: The scent is much more subtle when confronted with hot water and it doesn't linger. By the time I'm out of my bathrobe and ready for body butter, all I can smell is "clean". The even better news is that the formula is quite nice. The texture is lotiony-creamy, it glides smoothly and doesn't dry the skin even one bit. The foaming is minimal and people who don't suffer from a Cuir de Crocodile might have a problem with a bathing product that feels almost oily, but for me it's quite pleasant.

There are two other scents: Japanese (white lotus cream and kukui nut oil) and Moroccan (cassis cream and starflower oil). I'm curious to know if any of you tried them and have any insight. I understand that it's not realistic to hope for a lovely wood-incense scent of a drugstore product that sells for $4.29, but one can dream.

I don't like the scent enough to buy a replacement bottle, but it's a very decent body wash and would probably be a big success with those too young to have had fantasies about John Taylor.





Ingredients (yay for no parabens):
Water, Glycine Soja Oil or Helianthus Annuus Seed Oil, Glycerin, Petrolatum, Ammonium Lauryl Sulfate, Cocamidopropyl, Betaine, Ammonium Laureth Sulfate, Lauric Acid, Cocamide MEA, Polybutene or Polyisobutylene, Fragrance, PEG-5 Cocamide, Euterpe Oleracea Fruit Oil, Passiflora Incarnata Flower Extract, Acrylates/Beheneth-25 Methacrylate Copolymer, PEG-30 Dipolyhydroxystearate, Guar Hydroxypropyltrimonium Chloride, Isostearic Acid, DMDM Hydantion, Propylene Glycol, Tetrasodium EDTA, Etidronic Acid, Iodopropynyl Butylcarbamate, Titanium Dioxide, Yellow 5, Yellow 6.

The bottle was a PR freebie. You can find it everywhere under the sun.

Cherry Ice Cream Smile I Suppose It's Very Nice- Caress Brazilian Exotic Oil Infusion Body Wash

As far as my skin is concerned, testing mass market bath products is like playing a Russian Roulette. I'm allergic to several of them, as well as to some of the most popular shampoos, and have stories to tell that are only funny in retrospect. And if you're not me.

The reason I even agreed to try Caress Brazilian Exotic Oil Infusion body wash was the promise of a unique cream and oil formula, and the mental image of sleek Brazilian bodies (stop laughing). What didn't take into account were a) that they promote this product using Nicole from the Pussycat Dolls who sings butchers a staple of my long lost youth, Duran Duran's Rio (you're still laughing. Stop it), and b) that people's idea of a tropical Brazilian scent is death by mango.

Now, I can try and forget that I've ever heard this version. But getting over the initial fruity blast (plastic passion flower) I got when opening the lid was harder, and the bottle was put aside until I got braver. The good news is that when actually pouring some out onto my loofah it was less sugary juice and more of a Piña Colada. And I'm marginally fond of Piña Colada, even if I'm not sure I need to smell like it.

The good news continue: The scent is much more subtle when confronted with hot water and it doesn't linger. By the time I'm out of my bathrobe and ready for body butter, all I can smell is "clean". The even better news is that the formula is quite nice. The texture is lotiony-creamy, it glides smoothly and doesn't dry the skin even one bit. The foaming is minimal and people who don't suffer from a Cuir de Crocodile might have a problem with a bathing product that feels almost oily, but for me it's quite pleasant.

There are two other scents: Japanese (white lotus cream and kukui nut oil) and Moroccan (cassis cream and starflower oil). I'm curious to know if any of you tried them and have any insight. I understand that it's not realistic to hope for a lovely wood-incense scent of a drugstore product that sells for $4.29, but one can dream.

I don't like the scent enough to buy a replacement bottle, but it's a very decent body wash and would probably be a big success with those too young to have had fantasies about John Taylor.





Ingredients (yay for no parabens):
Water, Glycine Soja Oil or Helianthus Annuus Seed Oil, Glycerin, Petrolatum, Ammonium Lauryl Sulfate, Cocamidopropyl, Betaine, Ammonium Laureth Sulfate, Lauric Acid, Cocamide MEA, Polybutene or Polyisobutylene, Fragrance, PEG-5 Cocamide, Euterpe Oleracea Fruit Oil, Passiflora Incarnata Flower Extract, Acrylates/Beheneth-25 Methacrylate Copolymer, PEG-30 Dipolyhydroxystearate, Guar Hydroxypropyltrimonium Chloride, Isostearic Acid, DMDM Hydantion, Propylene Glycol, Tetrasodium EDTA, Etidronic Acid, Iodopropynyl Butylcarbamate, Titanium Dioxide, Yellow 5, Yellow 6.

The bottle was a PR freebie. You can find it everywhere under the sun.