prizes

In reviewing ways to drive traffic to my blog, there was a lot of hideous jargon, unprincipled stuff that I simply won’t stand for. So I’ve decided to offer prizes, or “incentives,” in the parlance of the day, for visitors. They are pictured above, to wit: some mauve suede heel with a disturbing fluff of rabbit fur at the ankle strap. Size 7. Or for those with a more practical bent, a photo display that’s composed of a wire strung between two suction cups with sliding clips on the wire. I tried it on our frige — it works. But a caveat for frige use: better for a side-opening than a side-by-side.

So first two people to leave a comment on this site get swag. Enough of this pinging and tracking back. Who wants it? Not me. Claimants will have to provide, by highly secure means, their address so I can deliver the goods. I probably will not sell it to a budding financial planner or insurance salesman.

I may or may not continue to offer prizes for viewers, fun games, intriguing trivia and contests. One that springs to mind is a photo-documented contest of, say, least offensive wearing of liquid leggings. If someone can send a photo of someone (and that excludes Kate Moss) looking good in these atrocities, I will dream up a special prize. Of course submission may have to pass third-party rulings. Fine print, etc etc.

I wish I was smarter. It would be handy in a number of circumstances but most immediately in being able to position the text and photos so that they coordinate. Very frustrating because, right (write, ha) or wrong, I'm going to talk about Madge and my latest Saver's finds in the same post. It would be nice if the photo coordinated with the text to minimize confusion.
When I say something like, check out the pipes, I'm talking about this photo of Madge. Now I am a fifty year old woman who works out a lot, and I own this very same Nike running top, but that is where the similarities end with me and Madge. Don't get me wrong, good on her for staying fit and not letting herself go and all, but even before I saw this candid I was wondering to meself just how many reps on the dip machine she must be doing to accomplish shredding like this. Cynic that I am, I was thinking a lot. I am not going to say one single thing about steroids but what doesn't make sense here is the tank and furry parka. Or wait a minute.... even as I....hot, cold, 50-year-old woman... I see what's going on here. PeriMadgeal. I hear ya sister.
The two coats pictured are a small part of an enormous Saver's haul totaling about 20 items and $75. The Peck& Peck coat really is camel, 100%, with all the leather buttons in pristine condition - $12.99. The navy blob is the back gathered detail of a wool Louis Feraud swing coat with gathered cuffs and drips of silver Feraud buttons down the front. Has this Louis gotten tattier in recent years, because this vintage (maybe 70s?) coat is positively couture compared to more recent product?

Is this cool or what? Because I have been very very good, this was next to my Christmas tree, but in even sexier women's step-through style (which I couldn't find a photo of). Imagine that straight top frame bar executing a graceful curve, imagine the flashes of white on the back fender and the decor on the skirt guard (useful since I often bike in a skirt), imagine the silver trim on the front fender and the plush leatherette seat. Then imagine me pedaling down Summit Ave. as if this was just one of the many well-designed items in my life, as if my shoes were offhandedly European and I wore scarves a lot. Which I don't. Fear of choking. This was my Christmas present from the little man who scraped me up and brought me to the ER when both me and my last bike met forcefully with a car, completely unexpectedly. In sharp contrast, I got him a subscription to Harper's magazine. The discrepancy is not lost on me. Anyhoo, this piece of sculpture, an Electra Amsterdam, is still in our dining room because it's art. And because I can't banish it to the dark basement. It's shiny. I don't see myself going very fast on this, but rather stylishly, casually, effortlessly chic. It's sorty of raising the bar on my wardrobe, but nothing I can't handle. It goes without saying (this always prefaces what you're going to say anyway) that this object d'art will never be exposed to inclement weather of any kind. Note to self: move to California for sake of bike.

I forgot to post this the other day, my new favorite cheap n cheesy source for skanky stuff ...GoJane.com. These virgin (ha!) vinyl gladiators (below) are a mere $22.70. Absolutely the most encyclopedic resource, there must be 500 different soleful ways to say Buy Me.














But seriously folks, which of the above black strappy platforms is Michael Kors for $495 and which is a GoJane vinylicious ticket for $21.20? See what I mean? Can we call this the recession strap? I do not know how designers make it.

Here's a Saver's observation that I'm going to suggest has broader economic and social ramifications than my wardrobe: Counter-intuitively, fashion use-em-and-lose-ems have been relinquishing some high-end stuff (collection Ralph Lauren velvet jacket) at a greater rate since our recession/depression hit full flower in October 2008 or so. Now wouldn't you imagine the sartorially flush would, when presented with threatening conditions, hold onto their MuiMuis with a death grip? I don't know, this is conjecture on my part, but biologically, when a famine is in the offing, beings go into conservation mode. My last Savers junket netted the aforementioned Ralph jacket, a grey cotton tuxedo tunic of European provenance, some adorable gathered grey suede booties whose value is completely in the grey suede, a black linen Kay Unger vintage dress with rootin' tootin' cowboy soutache trim, washed black stretch skinny jeans (bullhead). The pickings were far too easy and too luxe. Is this couture shame? Are the gainfully employed sloughing their silks in favor of a hair shirt? (There has been a distinct shortage of hair shirts at Savers). Maybe I can get a testimonial from a flush fashionista...

Mmmmm, I'm really excited by these mod mod mad slacks. So Mary Quant. And the rubber shoes, like crocs only hipper. As much as I shudder every time I see some innocent wearing crocs, I am all about taking ugly and making it cute. And they're vegan! I'm not, but the shoes are! A pattern is emerging -- color, wild color, hot shapes. Obviously we are in the depths of grey winter.

Herve Leger, mother-of-the-bride appropriate? Your call. Happy Christmas!

Since Savers has come into my life and taken over my wardrobe, the flow of clothes is swift indeed. In and out again, sometimes within minutes, e.g. a pair of "darned" Ralph Lauren jeans that I got for the young one. Introduced from the plastic bag, they were rejected out of hand. Nanoseconds. They are now in limbo in the sell-back pile, awaiting spring. As am I (we are in the throes of the worst winter weather in years, the terrible trifecta of snow, wind and cold). There are, though, a few items that have withstood the cleansing current of wardrobe editing, usually because they are so so outrageous that I have never found anything to replace them or they are so truly classy even I, the queen of vulgar, cannot deny their uplifting quality. The stalwarts are:
--Ferragamo tall leather boots circa 70s, just perfect, always
--Nine West brown loafers with sort of lug soles, sound ugly, are actually outrageously flattering
-- cashmere/wool houndstooth suit with wrap jacket, french cuffs, high waist skirt with pleated hem, if i ever had an interview..., so french, so Carine Roitfeld
-- sheer voile navy fragile frock, maybe from the 30s, all hankie hemmed, wispy, Olive Oyl
-- Old Navy low waist boot cut jeans with no butt pockets, despite the no butt pockets which make your ass look bald
-- a vintage raspberry pink cashmere cardigan, in case I ever live in Westchester County
-- white completely fringed lycra shorts that look like a skirt because of the fringe, with attached gold plastic megabuckle, had previous life on a baton twirler, because I have never ever seen anything else remotely like them, absolutely intense with a tan and teetering heels

These things need, nea, deserve photo documentation. I continue to hope.