Wine Review: 2007 · Vineyard Block Estate · Block 613 · Cabernet Sauvignon · Yountville · Napa Valley, CA

The next Block is in—and it may be the strongest.

The response from the first three Block reviews (512 Sonoma Coast, 925 Howell Mountain, and 345 Rutherford) has been amazing. People try these wines—not knowing much about them—and realize they’ve stumbled upon something special and want to find out more. The same thing happened to me, and I was further intrigued by how little information was actually available. So I set out to change that.

Tavi’s big score.

What is UP, homegirl!

[Tavi modeling the spoils of her CDG gifting. All images courtesy style rookie.]

Ok, I am a Tavi fanatic. After reading blog post number, like, 742,139 around the web of “so chic and cute! perfect for day or night” I sort of want to barf and feel contaminated like that lameness is creeping into my writing. This is why when a little number materializes next to my RSS feed for T-money’s blog, style rookie, I sweep my arm across my desk and send all my papers and water bottles and s**t flying onto the floor then start reading.

Ha. Actually, I just read it. Et alors.

Pop quiz.

Good morning!

There are three softball-sized piles of cat barf on the rug outside the closet door. Do you

a. tighten your robe’s belt and go get the club soda

b. chuckle softly, “Oh, E,” then step over it to retrieve your fringed boots

c. moan softly, yell to Rob, then step over it to retrieve your fringed boots

d. pick up one partially digested kibble, pop it in your mouth and exclaim, “Not bad! Not bad at all!”

Valentino: The Last Emperor

I have to admit, I chortled at myself when I settled in on a floor cushion by the fire with my laptop to watch this film. I mean, I love fashion—devotee? maybe—but I take no pleasure in witnessing the oddities and bloated egos of those who handle this crap behind the scenes. I mean, I for one afford these people’s absurdly luxuriant lives.

[Screenshot from the film, courtesy Netflix Instant Watch!]

Awesome bar setups.

As if I needed any other reasons to crave cocktails… this post from Heather over at Habitually Chic is a feast for the DT’ed eyes.

My favorite? This bar featured in Spanish Architectural Digest:

You know we love a good wine bar over here at C+C, but there’s something low-maintenance about a few bottles of booze that don’t require any temperature moderation, caps that screw on and off, and an instantly gratifying pour of Scotch.

Go pick your favorite and get inspired.

-Carey

A grainy update: VT wine bar

Not exactly a contender for the C+C wing of the Photography Hall of Fame. I tried to hold my computer still, as well as backwards, while I snapped a picture of my day’s work using my web cam:

Up in Vermont tonight installing a wine bar in hopes of enhancing the holiday season—establishing a visually stunning area to prepare adult beverages for much merriment and Christly cheer. The first 4 cases of C+C-reviewed wine is currently sitting on cool terra cotta tiles in the basement until some proper slots are designated.

Stay tuned for the sure-to-be glorious finished product. Honey—see you tomorrow night!

-Rob

HELLO, MY NAME IS: Mr. Magoo.

[This post is dedicated to my former coworker/desk mate/radio dial hog/friendly chauvinist from Charleston, Specs. Specs, you know who you are.]

True story: I obsess over sunglasses—with about 35 pairs on my wishlist—but I hardly ever post about them.

[Current need: Karen Walker Jonestown sunglasses, $210 @ shopbop.]

This is because I coughed up a zillion dollars to buy my current Wayfarers then make them fitting for one Mr. Magoo himself. And it wasn’t cheap. (I am myopically challenged, it’s really uncool.) Apparently buying glasses for Rx anywhere other than LensCrafters itself renders you a money-farting idiot. So. I don’t post about sunglasses here so as not to tempt fate. D’accord?

The 70s v. the 80s through the lens of Tommy Ton.

I love this 80s. V 70s feature from JAK & JIL’s Tommy Ton on Style.com today. JAK & JIL blog is one of my top 5—teasers of 1-2 photos a few times a day. This feature was like 6 scoops of awesome.

I took a screenshot of my favorite from each set of shots:

[80s]

[70s]

I’m all about the 70s look—obviously. When reinterpreted over and over, it never loses that effortless feel. It’s something I tend to prefer on the female frame. For me, it is less about the look and more about what it says about the woman wearing it.

Plus, I’ve read too much Bret Easton Ellis—the 80s freak me the f**k out.

Which do you prefer?

-Carey

“In memory, we still shall be…”

“…at dear old U-Va!” Sorry; last Virginia post, guys.

Gameday… sad loss v. Virginia Tech, but the weather was stunning and the Bloody Mary’s were perfection.

[Lessons in tailgating in style: Rob channels the Wodehouse way in Gucci loafers, khakis, and some Wayfarers.]

Frank Lloyd Crack

Richmond, Virginia is not exactly a hub for abstract or modern architecture. Stately brick and tudor estates are as common as the maple trees that line the streets. So you could imagine our excitement when we came across this bizarre little dwelling:

Ode to the crack rock and its vast architectural influence. This house is a junkie’s Mecca—certainly worth a pilgrimage across the mighty James River to heat up the old pipe.

Imitation crack smoke actually spews from the awkward, phallic protrusion more commonly known as a chimney, which is located on one of 350 roof-lines.

-Rob

Vino Volo: Round II.

Our flight left Richmond 30 minutes behind schedule, which I found very stressful. We were assured that this delay would not affect our Albany connection in Philadelphia—I was only mildly relieved. See, there was no way of knowing if we would have enough time for a brief stop at Vino Volo, or if we would even be near it!

Gypset Girl: a WhoWhatWear gift guide.

Drool:

I love the copy in this WhoWhatWear e-mail, specifically the caftan love!

As you might have guessed by our patron saint of the day—the ever-evolving, invariably stylish Nicole Richie—the Gypset Girl is a gorgeous global nomad. She’s the sort of modern bohemian marvel who can whip up a homemade feast with just a few bags from the farmers’ market and serve it dressed in a pretty vintage caftan. Her accessories are always a marvelous mixture of the high and the low, the ethical and the ornamental, the au courant and the timeless. Accordingly, our selections manage to meld the Gypset Girl’s love of luxury and her earthy sensibilities into a few fabulous packages…

After seeing an adorable fox sleeping in the sun at Maymont in Richmond this weekend, my interest in this Rebecca Taylor faux fur vest has increased exponentially since I first added it to my ShopBop wishlist. No need to skin any more of those little guys. Faux will do just fine.

-Carey

Tallwood adventure.

Looks like we’re going to be making a U-turn.

Took a drive around the farm to check out Tallwood—a boarded-up old house where my father and his best friend threw parties when they were fraternity brothers at UVA.

Virginia is for lovers.

Behold: Scottsville, VA; Old Woodville at dusk:

A hair under 50 degrees—and the birds were every bit as unsettled as the tow-headed toddlers up at the homestead, tossing their wooden blocks and brandishing new teeth at admiring aunts and uncles.

Did you see? The bomber is now mine.

Wake-up call.

This is the kind of alarm clock I need.

An enormous, 150-lb, super-excited, angelic, loving, grade-A grand offender of spacial relations, canine one:

If anyone tries to tell you a dog this big is impractical, have one crawl into bed with you at 7AM, rest her velvety jowls on your pillow, exhale her sweet-scented puppy breath, and then you can call me.

-Carey

Found: golden fleece.

I’m hyperventilating.

[In my brother's house guest room, I found a little something in the closet.]

You know the premise of the new movie, Brothers? In a nutshell, she assumes her husband is dead—so she moves on and finds new love. When I had heard that my father’s leather and shearling bomber jacket from college was lost after my brother hijacked it, I mourned. [See this post I wrote on its existence and subsequent loss.] I bought a leather Theory bomber jacket [seen here] with a rabbit fur collar that I’ve found a lot of happiness with. Yes, I’d say we’re pretty happy together.

Tryptophan + tall canines.

This isn’t from tonight, but it might as well be:

Wine and Food: Rosemary flatbread with grapes and blue cheese/2002 · La Velona · Rosso Di Montalcino · Italy

In lieu of airport delays, Cinnabons, and watery margaritas, Carey and I were strongly urged by a U.S. Airways customer service agent to avoid taking our original 6:08 pm flight to Philadelphia and hold off for a more convenient 5:40 am flight tomorrow morning. (Um…) So, what does this really mean?

Well, another night with Eli, of course—and a little food and wine too.

This minute…

The clothes have been packed for 24 hours now. Flight was bungled, so we’re here enjoying a Baby Brunello. I’m watching “Woodstock: Then & Now.” And Eli is hiding his head in shame in the corner.

[3 stuffed suitcases for 4 short days.]

Very excited to post about the Burberry dress I got I’ll be wearing to the Commonwealth Club in Richmond tomorrow night. It’s a few seasons old, but timeless and gorgeous and a ridiculous deal.

Have a great holiday!

-C+R

Wine Review: 2009 · Joseph Drouhin ·Beaujolais Nouveau · À Beaune · Côte-D’Or, France

The third Thursday of November usually passes for me without a lot of fanfare. “Beaujolais Day” was never very popular in my house growing up—no waiting to see if the bottle would pop out and see its shadow, predicting another stretch of bad vintages.

Fearful I might be missing out on the nationwide phenomenon that is B-Day, I decided to start a new Burden family tradition: pulling in to the liquor store and buying young Gamay after a morning of drawing hand turkeys with construction paper Pilgrim hats on.

Wine Cellar Weekly: Living spaces

Cellaring has become so much more than just storing wine, and storing wine has moved far beyond the cellar. Wine lovers’ living spaces have taken on the function and beauty of cellars by literally bringing those characteristics upstairs. Architecture traditionally reserved for the tasting rooms of premier French chateaus now fills the pages of Architectural Digest where it’s passed on to the passionate.

[Interior designer Mario Buatta's English country-style home in the Midwest.]

[The above home's vaulted wine cellar that doubles as intimate dining room.]

Typical Carey…

Well, good news. The lost dachshund was found—but not before he made like a burnt sausage on wheels and tested his skills for breakdancing in busy streets at night. Phew—he sure won that round, as my form on the downspin was marred by my need to tap the hoods of cars that were barreling toward my face. I’ll get him during our next dance-off.

Unfortunately during the chase, I lost my brand new necklace I wore for the first time yesterday. Of course I had spent the day looking down at it and fondling it lovingly; I never lose/break/tear/stain something I’m not head over heels for. [Oh, and this always occurs the absolute first time I wear it. It's a curse.]

So. Seeing as how the leaves are 8 inches thick around the Jewish Community Center Cemetery where I lost the thing, I’m renting a metal detector. This—this I am excited for:

Wish me luck!

-Carey

Dr. Dog and the lost puppy.

I had a dream last night that I was at a fried conch stand in the Bahamas flipping through a menu and there were caftans on the menu. Imagine that. “Blue caftan,” and “pink caftan,” and “batik caftan.” I remember asking someone if you could take them home, or if you only got to wear them while you were eating. The woman working there looked at me like I had 6 eyeballs.

[J.Crew silk sonnet blouse + Current/Elliott Elephant Bell jeans + Ronny Kobo vest + Twinkle Studio snake necklace + Miu Miu shearling clogs.]

Sunday song.

I haven’t stopped listening to this song for probably 6 days straight. Incredible.

["Pounding" by Doves.]

I’ve been seeking out something uplifting tonight after a crapalicious Sunday and didn’t have to look very far. I was first introduced to Doves from Ultra.Chilled vol. 3, which I purchased 7 years ago. Thanks to a coworker with insane musical taste, I was able to swipe all their albums and have since submersed myself in them.

And, we’re about to watch Bruno. So if that doesn’t help…

[13 min later... p.s. It's helping!]

It takes a village…

Apparently North Florida is a hotspot for the Weekend Journal, and the newly appointed Corks + Caftans crack research team, made up of our parents and grandparents, wasted no time sending clippings northward. The article, A Hint of Hype, A Taste of Illusion, which arrived on three separate occasions, pokes holes with relative ease through the highly influential wine-rating system.

The spoils of our mailbox: from mother, mother, and grandfather.