Posts Tagged ‘Caftans’

Oh my stars. Thanks to Nellie for giving me the scoop on this. Caftans are about to drop en masse in a Target near you.

via InStyle.com:

If the Target designer collaborations leave you reeling, than we’ve got good news! Calypso St. Barth is confirmed to create a limited-edition collection of fashion and home items for Target, set to launch May 1st in stores and online. “Calypso St. Barth is a renowned global brand with an incredibly loyal following and we think Target’s guests will love the no-fuss, sophisticated appeal of the collection,” Target’s senior vice president of merchandising Trish Adams told us exclusively. While no images are available yet, the collection will include clothing and accessories for women and children, plus home goods like candles, pillows and glassware. While the core Calypso offerings (above) can reach upwards of $800, the label’s Target pieces will be $1.99 to $79.99.

Boom. (more…)

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Shopsribali caftans.

I was swooning for days over the caftans at Shopsribali after getting an email from them tempting me to take a peek. Yes, please.

[Here are a few of the Camilla caftans, ranging from $406 – $459, not soldiers in the Polynesian production of the Nutcracker Ballet.] (more…)

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Nina Donis.

Saw this photo on all the pretty birds.

I’m in love with the Nina Donis dress she’s wearing, and her for being brave enough to do so.

When I’m an old lady, you’d better believe I’ll be living in things like this.

Check out the whole FW 2010 show. The dress that comes out after this one is so beyond stunning, I wish I had it to wear with huge boots and a skinned fox scarf. [I love that this was posted before I finished that sentence. Have you been waiting in utter suspense?] Not too down with the sneakers they’re paired with, but I’m sure when I get to be an old lady, those sneaks, plus some sexy compression socks, will be right up my alley.


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Favorite Etsy shop to date: Girl on a Vine. Fantastic vintage finds in a shop that weeds out the crap; also, heavily peppered with amazing fringed shawls.

[All images courtesy Girl on a Vine Etsy shop.]

[White, $198; lavender, $189.]

[Yellow tribal, $189 ; blue velvet burnout, $189.]

[Short dress, $145 ; pink, $209.]

The yellow tribal jacket is incredible and will belong to me.


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[My most Selby-inspired shot of my Selby book.]

I’ve loved The Selby for many, many moons. Part of me thinks my original infatuation with photos of artfully arranged knick-knacks morphed into a continued appreciation for his depiction of interesting, socially accepted, cat-loving individuals. You know, “cool” people enjoying the company of felines. Since I tend to think we cat people are tolerated by but secretly cause dog people much dismay.* Like when the cool girls let me hang out with them for a spell in middle school, but got freaked-out looks on their faces when I’d do weird shit like suggest we shave our legs with a sweater pill remover, make up song lyrics about trash cans, or carry a mini tape recorder in my pocket and laugh hysterically while playing clips of TV commercials at our tennis lessons. I’m cool with not being cool in that respect. (more…)

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[Vix Swimwear Laura Ana cover-up caftan, $145 @ShopBop.]

This is sort of like the Jack Russell of caftans. It’s perky and small and “pay attention to me, see what I can do?” and really cute, but in a way I’m hesitant about, as in “this is in spite of the fact I know you could break my cat’s neck in like 2 seconds, you little spazz.” Ok, sorry, sorry—I like Jack Russells just fine. And I like this fanny-grazing caftan, too—but mostly because of the back:

Sweet cape action. Granted, this is designed to be a coverup, but I would definitely rock this little tramp: a bikini underneath, some flat boots, a scarf, and surf shop puka shell bracelets. Equally cool with black tights in cooler weather.

And now that I have bikinis on the brain, I’m sort of wringing my hands and frowning while watching the heavy cream-asparagus-baby pea pasta sauce I’m making simmer on the stove. Mm, fatty carbs. UPDATE: As I was typing that, to look very official for Rob (who is taking notes on the Groth Sauvignon Blanc we’re drinking), I stuck my nose in my wine glass and breathed deeply, tilting the glass far enough that I actually snorted wine up my nose. Tasting notes? Cold and burny.

Available at ShopBop, which is currently hosting a whole slew of cover-up caftan-style thingies.


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[Jean Paul Gaultier caftan, $795 @saks.com]

JPG, you are a genius, my friend. When you’re not designing S&M outfits for Madonna, that is. This tribal-style caftan is so exotic and worldly that, before I’d even finished reading its description on saks.com, I realized I was beating Rob’s cheeks like bongos and singing “The Circle of Life.”

Nerd alert: if I’m not swimming against the general run-out that is my collection of unread fashion magazines, or teaching Eli colloquial French phrases, I’m playing online geography quiz games—my favorite exercise is matching the flag to the correct country. This garment reminded me of a flag—maybe Chad? or Spain?—or a Turkish spa towel like the ones we just got from Scents & Feel. [I’ll do a separate post on those at some point because they are d.r.e.a.m.y.] (more…)

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[Screengrabs by me, courtesy vh1.com.]


Before we start peeing our respective pants, this in no way relates to those blasted Dany platform shoes. [Seriously? Jess informed me they are going for upwards of $299 on eBay. Don’t you peeps know there’s a freighter on its way from China with about 8 bajillion more pairs? And FYI, the wood is… how do I put this… a photograph.] BUT… I did catch the Morocco episode of her show, The Price of Beauty, yesterday during lunch and said, “I bet there’s a caftan or two* in this. Eli—hand me the remote and my monocle.”

*Correction: more like the caftan store to end all caftan stores. Blimey, look at that wall! I saw about 50 I wanted. (p.s. I am so ahead of my time. Or existing way behind the times. However you want to look at it.)

[I’ll be refraining from this absurd behavior, thankyouverymuch.]

I would be booking a trip to Morocco except that I heard it’s hard to find alchimiehol. I note this for Rob’s sake, not my own. [Sort of.] Is this true?

House of Caftans: feel free to send me some of your wares. Hundreds of them.


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Check out the new caftans released by mondo-scarf line, Sir Alistair Rai! The neutral palette is stunning and exactly what I’m looking for this spring to mix with soft blues, bleached denim, and (please God, please God) a tan. On my wishlist: the blush mantra scarves, a Mamta Khari wrap, the short tie-dyed caftans, and, when I get $600 in my pocket, those shimmery sequined caftans. Timeless. Effortless.

See the full collection

I’m a total Sir Alistair Hindu prayer scarf devotee. It’s been a year since I got a new SA scarf; I’m thinking it’s time to update the collection. And if I ever get tired of them, I can always use them to fashion myself a sexy diaper, like this.


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[Daughters of the Revolution Willow dress, $298 @Shopbop.com]

Nothing says Spring more than cotton gauze. This image stopped me dead in my Internet flipping tracks. When you live somewhere like we do, once you have an inkling it’s on its way, it’s like winter never existed. (more…)

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[Mara Hoffman Galaxy dashiki caftan, $342 @shopbop.com]

I feel like this caftan just needs a head scarf, a crystal ball, and a room full of shrunken heads. Then she could make out with a cursed, tiny leprechaun. (more…)

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First of all, how amazing does Ashley look with brown hair? And yes, I am biased. Her dress is incroyable. It’s too bad she looks like she just farted and can’t decide whether or not it’s funny. (I’ll help you, Ash: it’s funny.)

[Image courtesy Olsens Anonymous.] (more…)

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Hurry over to Rue La La… stat!

They have a Sir Alistair Rai sale going on now (during their last one, I purchased my 3rd of their fabulous print scarves, now I’ve OD’ed on them) featuring 6 gorgeous long caftans. All for around $99 – $149. Go here to buy one! Let me know which one you get! Ends Saturday!

[I’ll take that blue one, pls + thank you.] (more…)

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[Mara Hoffman Bird White Drape Poncho Tunic. Say that three times fast. $216 @shopbop.com]


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There are few things I love more than a sausage on a string.

DSC09139So when Rob picked me up from work and drove us to Roma’s for some dinner stuff (prosciutto, mozzarella, bread, roasted red peppers), he grabbed one for me. This isn’t a frequent thing because I tend to go through these in a matter of days. I was peering through the windshield, in the car in the pouring rain, waiting to see his grey hoodie appear. All of a sudden I saw him, brown bag in hand, a flash of shiny white teeth in the window. He paused for suspense, then jerked up his arm to show a dangling saucisson. I jumped in the seat and clapped my hands.


I love how well he knows me. I mean, he knows there isn’t a day I wouldn’t love to get a pair of earrings or a scarf or a catsuit, but he also knows he’s going to get a much more rewarding reaction from me via a boxed set of Perrier-Jouët (with matching etched glasses) or a hand-picked bottle of Rosé or a hunk of dried sausage on a string. Smart boy.

Anyway, I think the best gifts are the ones you can enjoy together.

DSC09138[p.s. how cool is the Vena Cava chiffon t-shirt? I’m in love.]

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I’ve only recently become domestically inclined, but I’m embracing it. It all started with a matching apron and oven mitt and has morphed into a complete kitchen utensil makeover which, I’ll admit, has made cooking way more fun than I ever imagined.

I’m a kitchen snob; always have been.

I have several favorite kitchens of my past that I call on during frequent day dreams: my aunt Priscilla’s Ridgefield, Conn. kitchen, with a view of a vast green yard and a barn, a nest of baby birds chirping on cue by the windowsill; the wood floor hand-painted to look like black and white marble tiles; she donned a cow-print robe and poured cream into her coffee from a cow-shaped pitcher, the bovine artfully vomiting a stream of milk into the mug. In later years, this was overruled by my friend Margaret’s new-fangled, remodeled kitchen. It was a total overhaul, gorgeous cabinets, blinds covering the skylight that could be operated with a switch (and flipped to reveal a gold-painted side, which I’d go home and pout about), an ice maker, a huge walk-in pantry, and an enormous window framing lush, green trees that sloped down into the ravine behind their beautiful Richmond home. I also loved my mom’s kitchen; familiarity winning out with the leopard-print wallpaper and the bowls I’d been sticking my fingers in since I was a kid.

I love the personality in houses and homes, but it always comes back to the kitchen for me. I used to voluntarily clean the kitchens of the women I babysat for, doing dishes and marvelling at the contents of their cabinets, wiping clean the granite counter tops to reveal a rainbow of glinting colors in the stone. I love kitchens.

When it came time to create a wedding gift registry, I was a virgin in the face of all these tools and gadgets: poultry pounders, boar-bristle brushes, meat thermometers, strawberry de-stemmers. Overwhelming, yes, but most of all, nothing was really pretty. I had expected a lot more “swoon.”

Cooking in Granny Marge's apron & Christian Louboutins.

Cooking in Granny Marge's apron & Christian Louboutins.

I did what I could with Williams-Sonoma, pleasantly tickled by some biscuit cutters, the monogrammed spatulas, and a gold cookie sheet, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon the Home section of Anthropologie that I completely lost it.

Everything has a fabulously kitschy, vintage feel (which is my favorite feel, when it comes to nearly everything). There was a set of ceramic measuring spoons, shaped and hand-painted like giraffes that stand up in a little row. A set of “Matryoshka” measuring cups shaped like the Russian nesting dolls I had as a girl. A “garden in a pot” kit to grow Italian parsley right in your own kitchen. Aprons, cookie jars, folksy place mats, dessert plates, a tea set shaped like owls, a cooking timer shaped like a hen… you get the idea. I went berserk.

Anthropologie butter dish, egg holder, cookbook, measuring cups and embroidered dish towel; a glass of Rose; the ever-present WS monogrammed spatula.

A study in Snickerdoodle making: Anthropologie butter dish, egg holder, cookbook, measuring cups and embroidered dish towel; a glass of Rose; the ever-present WS monogrammed spatula.

It’s like putting your kitchen in a bouclé Nanette Lepore suit. It doesn’t matter if no one else is around– when I cook, I tie on one of my 5 aprons religiously, pluck eggs for my recipe from the ceramic egg holder and sip my well-deserved glass of wine from a purple, hand-blown goblet with a green stem. It looks like a tulip, and it makes all the difference in the world if you’re as into details as I am.

Owl tea set; my favorite wedding gift.

Owl tea set; my favorite wedding gift.

I invite you to peruse the site, build a wishlist, and put a little extra effort into your kitchen. And anywhere else in your house. They had a great collection of groovy Christmas ornaments over the holidays (I got a moss green mushroom ornament that I think Rob still doesn’t quite understand), and a ton of knobs for drawer pulls, candle holders, lamps, these floor pillows I’ve been coveting for a year, bedding, rugs and everything else.  I even found a travel journal that Rob and I documented honeymoon stuff in, some cool file folders (please, don’t make fun of me), and two pillow slipcovers with different bird species embroidered on them.

Among my favorite things in our kitchen are two of Rob’s things: the naked lady spoon holder and the naked lady salt and pepper shaker— with removable breasts. These are antiques, and a little R-rated, so you won’t find these on anthro. Sorry, boys.

Eli tries to steal a kiss; can't find any lips.

Eli tries to steal a kiss; can't find any lips.

The salt's on the left.

The salt's on the left.

Obviously I’m stuck in the “nesting phase,” but look at it this way: you’re investing in things that some day, someone might be dying to inherit from you.

Oven is preheated; time to put the cookies in— with a coordinating hot pad, obvy.


www.anthropologie.com, or call 1-800-309-2500 to order or request a catalog.

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Dear God!

Why is it so cold? Where is the sun? Who invented snow? Why haven’t I turned the heat on?

oh noes

oh noes

Eli was padding down the hallway just now and poked his head around the doorframe. I looked at him from the bed, shivering.

“Hi, there.”

“I’s been up for 3 hours, please to feed me!?”

“Eli, you were up here sleeping 15 minutes ago, you have not been up for 3 hours.”

“Well, ‘zere are only 3* kibble in my bowl.”

“I put a whole scoop in there when I got my coffee just now!”

Oh Renoir!” and I watched his tail disappear back around the corner.

*Eli can only count to three. And he doesn’ t know that it’s au revoir, but he does enjoy Impressionist painting.

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Christmas in Florida was so fun. And busy. I’m now anxious to move back down there. But I’m not sure whether that is purely because I need to be finding a job up in New York and I’d rather be burying my head (and toes) in the sand down there for another week.


Friday, I took Rob over to Ponte Vedra Nails for his first pedicure and I guess I was way past due for a foot grating. Rob’s interests can tend toward the surgical and/or grotesque, so I sat in horror,  powerless, while he watched the skin pile up on the lady’s towel. “It’s like shaving parmesan cheese,” he said in wonderment.

In the car: “I wonder if you’ll be shorter now. You should probably have your driver’s license updated.”

At dinner I watched through the lens of my new digital video camera as Rob set fire to the table cloth. He was trying to fix the wick of a gas lantern that was flickering out while we sat outdoors sipping wine around the table.

“Think this needs a new wick.”

“Where do you suppose one buys new wicks?” The table offered suggestions.

“I don’t know, the wick store? Wicks ‘R Us? Pubwicks?” Oh, ho ho! The brilliance.


Eli was outside on his harness for a good bit of the vacation eating grass and getting pine sap in his fur. He threw up some hay on the dock and generally kept Rob and me from reading more than a paragraph at a time before his tether was wrapped around a table leg or he was receding into the bushes somewhere to further taste the delicacies of the Florida underbrush. I read a Judith Krantz trash-vel, Till We Meet Again, which is actually a well-researched tome embroidered with many descriptions of awesome clothes. My favorite was an aviation outfit for Freddy, who was a stunt pilot for old Hollywood movies.

“…a cream-colored shirt, tailored with so many flaps and pockets that it looked like a military uniform, tucked into a matching pair of the tightest slacks Eve had ever seen. A cream suede belt was wrapped around her small waist, a white silk scarf was casually flipped around her neck…”

When she joins the RAF later, during WWII, I can’t say her military uniforms sounded too bad, either. Judy, you’re a genius.

Rob devoured a book on wine. We stopped at a wine bar in Philadelphia airport for a snack and two glasses of red and saw the 2nd edition of this book propped up in a glass case. Hello, birthday present! (Don’t read that part, honey.)

This morning in the kitchen, back in NY, I asked Eli if he still loved his mommy.

“Do you?”


“Even though I’m unemployed?”


I frowned. Rob protested from the living room, “Honey, that’s just not true.”

I looked at Eli and shrugged. “But I can’t help pay for new kibbles now.” After which I burst into tears.

On the upside of job hunting in December in upstate New York is my job hunting outfit: white tights, grey leg warmers , a long black sweater, a multitude of bangles; like Edie Sedgwick sans mascara.  Why can’t I just pick out outfits for a living?



p.s. Rob’s up next!

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