Monday: green Prada skimmers

There are some past collections that I’ll always love. I feel like I could easily pluck a piece from Prada’s spring/summer 1996 collection and wear it today. (In fact, not long ago I finally bought a dress in that season’s signature print, which was put back into production when the SoHo boutique opened.) Then there were the orange and camel wool bags, coats and skirts with the leather leaf appliqués from the fall 1999 Prada collection. I bought a tiny tote bag from that collection in a dark camel color that Prada delectably calls sughero (it means “cork” in Italian). But as much as I loved it I hardly ever carried it because… well, it was tiny.

And yet, when I was surfing amazon.com this weekend (did you know amazon has past-season designer stuff, and not just Bluefly.com and Nordstrom.com stuff it lists?), my heart stopped when I spotted this rectangle wrist strap bag with the same leaf appliqués, in the same sughero color. I instantly felt like I had to have it … even though it was even smaller than the tote bag I already had. For a split second I thought I could use it as a makeup bag inside the tote. Okay, maybe like thirty seconds. Sure, two leaf appliqué bags in sughero may be too much, but what if I got one in ruggine (which means “rust” and I guess sounds better than orange)? Or cammello (er, that means “camel” but it looks a little more taupey to me)?

I know, it’s crazy! Some things I just can’t resist. It goes way beyond being a collector. It’s as if I feel compelled to horde certain Prada items and all Laineys. Now I understand that man I once saw buying ten sets of knives because, as he said, he was a collector. At the time I just thought he was scary. But now maybe I realize I was afraid because in him I could see my OCD: obsessive collective disorder. It is taking every last ounce of self-control not to do that 1-click shopping. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but somebody buy them all out so I don’t have a chance! At least then I’ll know that they will be in a happy home…

Technorati Tags: shopping, Prada, handbags, collector’s items

Friday: navy Manolo d'Orsay pumps

There was an article in Bazaar recently about how great personal shoppers are. Well, that was one of my career aspirations when I was a kid! But seriously, the article was extolling the full-service nature of personal shoppers these days, and I just can’t buy into that. It’s one thing to have favorite salespeople at Neimans and Saks who call you for private sales and keep an eye out for your sizes and help you circumvent the waiting list; it’s altogether another to have someone who actually does the shopping for you.

That just takes all the fun out of it: I actually want to obsess over each season’s offerings in magazines and online before they’re in the store. I actually want to look at each and every piece in the store. I don’t need, or want, someone else to edit the season for me. I want to keep out the middleman. I want to see and feel and breathe it all in for myself! I want to make my own decisions from all those endless choices, and if need be, I want to stalk that limited-edition item — do the detective work, track it to the most out-of-the-way boutiques — until I can get my grubby little hands on it. I really don’t have a problem going to every Prada boutique and Prada-carrying store in the tri-state area, if that’s what I have to do. (And especially when it comes to Prada, every store has slightly different styles, so if you rely on just one personal shopper at one store who knows if you’re getting the full range of choices…)

Of course, I am notoriously indecisive — you should see me in front of a diner menu, the horror, the horror! That’s the only real danger: Without any pre-editing I just might feel compelled to buy one of everything!

Technorati Tags: personal shopper, shopping, Prada

Wednesday: peach satin Gucci slides

I think I’m in love! My green print silk dress has arrived, and it’s simply perfect. (The photo below simply doesn’t do it justice, and certainly not when it’s on the hanger.) It fits and moves so well; the drape is just right; everything about it is exactly how I wanted it to be. You know what? This could be habit-forming. Gulp. I’m going back to the studio this week to see some new spring/summer styles. Uh oh…

The good news, though, is that I also found the perfect shoes. And as it turns out they were right there in plain sight. I had seen these bronze Manolo Blahnik d’Orsay pumps on the Neimans site but ruled them out as not metallic enough or strappy enough. I’ll admit it. I was wrong. I spent a long lunch hour at Bergdorf’s on my quest for the perfect shoe, and lo and behold! There they were, and in person they were just right! (I also totally see them with jeans or… what else, my summer whites!)

The one problem? I had originally ordered it for a wedding I’m attending in September, but please, do you really think I can wait that long? I just have to make sure wherever I wear the dress now, there’s no overlap in social circles. I figure as long as no one at the wedding sees it, I’m safe… right?! I know, I know, no one’s supposed to be paying attention to what I’m wearing at a wedding. It’s all about the bride. And yet… it’s the bride who has the least to worry about. No matter what she wears she’s a star. The rest of us have to work! Unless, of course, we’re pre-ordained to wear matching bridesmaid dresses. Uh, I’ll take the angst of free will, please.

Monday: Prada gold snakeskin and linen wedges

Beware the collective memory — far longer, and far more dangerous, than your own — of the hometown paper. A certain intrepid reporter has more than shoes in her closet. There are skeletons of a math geek past… All I can say is thank God there weren’t any photos in those archives!

Friday: red Louboutin ribbon espadrilles

After the past few months I’ve had, I’ve decided that what I need most (other than winning the lottery and finding the perfect metallic heels, of course — and not even necessarily in that order) is a spa day. I need it all: massage, facial, salt scrub, sauna, mani-pedi… Forget these skimpy three-hour packages; when I say spa day, I mean day!

Hard to believe, but when I was little, and my grandma told me she went to get a manicure every week, I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just do it herself. (Can you believe those thoughts ever inhabited my brain?) But as I got older and started having to take responsibility for things like chores, I began to appreciate the necessity of having things done for and to you for a change — to be completely passive and fully pampered.

So I’ve been to a zillion different spas, from speedy ones like Simply Spa (where you can get a facial, massage and mani in 60 minutes flat — which kinda defeats the whole relaxation thing but hey, we’re nuts here in New York City) to posh hotel spas. One of my favorites was in Bordeaux: Les Sources de Caudalie, a vinotherapy spa and hotel located on a vineyard in France. So there was great wine at dinner — and in the treatment room. When you’re spending your days with wine and honey wraps, crushed Cabernet scrubs and barrel baths, how could you go wrong?

Well, there was this one thing — most likely a really European thing. The “water jet shower” made me feel like I was starring in Reform School Girls 2. You stand there naked under a shower and a middle-aged Eastern European woman aims a spring-water hose at you. I felt uncomfortable because (1) it was uncomfortable, but worse, (2) I realized I was so prudishly American in my discomfort. So discomfort and angst — not exactly relaxing. In the pantheon of spa humiliation, the whole scenario’s gotta be up there with snoring during a facial!