coveting chic

“Allow me to get right to the point. After careful consideration, I have decided that this is the year I am getting married.” - Charlotte York

Accolades to Miss York MacDougal Goldenblatt for her decisive declaration. I, however, have decided (after careful consideration), that this is the year I am making myself worthy of a ring.

There are three important ways a gal must be perceived in order to get a man on one knee with a Harry Winston box:

1. Housekeeper
2. Short-Order Chef
3. Arm Candy

A neat freak by nature, I will have no trouble proving to a man that I can maintain his humble abode.

So the next step towards domestication, is to vastly improve my culinary skills. Each week, I vow to test out new recipes.

In lieu of using today’s lunch break to actually lunch, I stopped into my favorite boutique instead, with the intent of purchasing a simple yet sophisticated from-day-to-play dress to wear on a date tomorrow night immediately following my workday. 

A gorgeous little Milly number won my heart (and thankfully the sale price didn’t break the bank.)

And with that, I was one step closer to my ambition in life: to someday be successful enough to have a wardrobe that resembles Charlotte York’s.                                                    

And here it is, the living room of my first grown up apartment. Though it does not boast sleek wood flooring, crown molding, granite countertops or marble bathrooms, it is the perfect not-so-big-that-it’s-lonely but big-enough-that-it’s-perfectly-comfortable size. 

I was eager to begin decorating and domesticating! 

For once, I followed my mothers advice — I resisted the urge to spend beaucoup money on decorative pieces and was practical, purchasing bathroom essentials, cleaning supplies, hangers, and can’t-live-without-it kitchen stuff.

The couch and ottoman were my first, pre-move purchases. I paid a visit to West Elm before the big move as well, snagging a pillow with bronze sequin polka dots and a silver lacquer tray to top my ottoman. 

The polka-pillow’s cousin was a lucky find at one of the outlet stores! 

A colorful rug, cuddly throw blanket, and barstools also made the cut.

After much trial and error, I have finally found a pillow combination that I am pleased with.

(Don’t mind the cellophane that is still gracing the lampshade)

Spotted: Leighton Meester dressed in her Blair Waldorf finest, shooting scenes for Gossip Girl in NYC.

With her Stella McCartney skirt, punchy Brian Atwood pumps and Riki Rosetta Orange Ostrich embossed tote bag, our favorite Park Avenue Princess’s ensemble is oh-so-summer.

I can’t help but be reminded of the Nanette Lepore frock that Blair donned a season back - She certainly is a vision in citrus hues!

And inside all of that pretty packaging? A pair of high heels so pink and charming that they would make Barbie and Elle Woods jealous. 

New York City: It saddens me to acknowledge that our honeymoon phase is very much over.

I am no longer comforted by the bright lights and constant commotion; I yearn for the scent of Magnolia Trees, rather than presents left on the sidewalk by French Bulldogs; truly scrumptious macaroni and cheese rather than pizza-by-the-slice; country music rather than honking horns and police sirens.

A Park Avenue apartment with a doorman and a view of Duck Pond doesn’t sound quite as lovely as a white Plantation home with a sprawling yard: I envision my husband tossing around a football with the boys while I sip on pretend tea from “fine china” with my little girls - where do the speeding taxi’s and garbage-lined gutters fit in?

Exactly. They don’t.

In six weeks, when my internship has reached completion, I will pack up the invaluable experience that I have gained and head south of the Mason Dixon line, where Jack Rogers and Lilly Pulitzer are not merely tolerated, but are the uniform.

I am determined to find a southern city that meets my criteria:

1. An abundance in charm, southern hospitality, please and thank you’s, and gentlemen (wearing boat shoes and Ralph Lauren) is an absolute must.
2. Museums, an assortment of fine dining establishments and a shopping district within a reasonable distance 
3. There simply must be options available for those days when the sun is shining and you would just love to spend time enjoying the great outdoors: sunbathing at the beach, frolicking in the woods, splashing around at the lake, picnicking in the late afternoon, boating, floating down a river with a keg or cheering on the home team at an outdoor sporting event are all suitable.
4. A “fratty” and/or “preppy” environment. Country clubs, Junior League chapters, Lilly Pulitzer store are all quite necessary. 
5. Beautiful, warm, sunny weather 365 days a year.
6. Republican and Christian dominance, please and thank you. 
7. A strong Toddlers and Tiaras following. Non-negotiable.
8. In one of the following states: Georgia, Alabama, South Carolina, Louisiana, Texas, Tennessee or North Carolina. 

Suggestions? Oh please oh please oh please? 

1) “Crown” 2) “Aggie” 3) “Charlee” 4) “Karolina” 5) “Bailee” 6) “Vonya” 7) “Brook” 8) “Hula Too” 9) “Charm”

New York is, undoubtedly, a city filled with dreamers.

A twenty-something gal living with three roommates and no air-conditioning aspires to have a doorman, a french bulldog and a Park Avenue address complete with a walk-in closet filled with Chanel. 

A 5’2 high school graduate with a 1450 SAT score and the world of academia summoning her, fancifully dreams of couturiers and gracing the Fashion Week runway. 

In New York City, with every opportunity at your Dashing-Diva’s-manicured fingertips, the result is to just want more. 

So we take desperate measures to satisfy our desires. We become Bloomingdale’s Card Holders in order to get 15% of off our first purchase. We skip lunch so that we can afford to indulge in a Cosmopolitan at dinner. We wait (not so) patiently in line for sample sales. 

In fact, I fear that I someday will see my roommate curled up outside of Starbucks wearing Chloe Jeans that have become ragged, her Celine bag filled with scraps of garbage. Her cardboard sign reads: “I couldn’t resist the sample sales…Please spare some change for a Grande Double-Pump Vanilla Latte Light.”

                                     (As for me? Aspiring Charlotte York, of course.)                                                

Though the Gossip Girl crowd, with their Trust Funds and Black Cards, were able to brunch at Balthazar, and wine and dine bi-weekly at Butter, most of us young New Yorkers cannot possibly live up to such standards. 

…But that’s what our 30’s are for.

While we’re still young why not enjoy lunching on a $2 hot dog from a street vendor, always take advantage of student discounts, and spend our Saturdays stretched out on a blanket (for free) in Sheep’s Meadow?

As so many of our views of Manhattan have been shaped by Sex and the City, we forget to realize the obvious….at the beginning of the show, the characters were not 22 years old and fresh out of college. They were in their 30’s.

That gives me 8 years [2,920 days/70,080 hours] to be able to afford Louboutin’s, taking taxi’s everywhere and Gilt’s Truffle Grilled Cheese Sandwich, favored by Serena Van der Woodsen. 

Until then…bring on the Metro Card and dive bar happy hours. I vow to embrace life as an up-and-coming New Yorker. 

Every so often, amidst dread-locked “musicians” beating on trashcans as if they were drum sets and hoping for dollar bills in exchange for their services as “entertainers,” emerges a true talent. After an unfortunate excuse for a Sunday, filled with stressful endeavors and errands rather than leisure and sunshine, I sulked onto the R train to head home. From a man with a raggedy ponytail and a guitar, came the loveliest sounds. His voice danced over the melody, singing Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry” absolutely beautifully. I wished that my stop was further. As I stepped off the subway, and into the 8th Street terminal, the burdens of the day were lifted by the comforting tune. The last bit of lyrics that I could hear him sing out was “Everything’s gonna be alright.” And just like that, it was.

Indeed, episodes of Sex and the City and Gossip Girl, as well as chick flicks like Confessions of a Shopaolic and The Devil Wears Prada, shaped my views of New York City  - So much that I truly expected the entirety of the Upper East Side to be donning Bergdorf’s latest collections.

But sightings of Blair Waldorf-worthy Jennifer Behr headbands, Louboutin’s and Hermes Birkin bags are few and far between. Sigh. 

Would it be so much to ask for the city’s population to be styled by Patricia Field or Eric Daman?

Now, much to my dismay, I have discovered yet another falsity. I am here to set the record straight.

I am sad to report that jogging around the Central Park Reservoir a la Charlotte York was misrepresented in the Sex and the City movie. With a slough of Cavalier King Charles Spaniels in tow, Charlotte enjoys fresh air and solitude while leisurely jogging around the perimeter of the lake.

During my first Reservoir-run, however, I learned that stopping to smell the roses or even allowing your pace to dwindle would have undoubtedly resulted in being stampeded by a herd of housewives with Bugaboos, men too old to being wearing short shorts and New York’s athletic. 

(The fear of death-by-LuLuLemon proved to be quite effective for exercise purposes, as slowing/halting/keeling over was not an option.) 

Regardless, the view was spectacular and it was a beautiful day. So all is well that ends well!   

Samantha Jones can be accredited for establishing public relations as the most desirable career choice for aspiring Upper East Siders. She had access to star-studded events, flaunted her…er, confidence, and even snagged a male model as her man-candy. You can’t help but be impressed by Samantha’s success; the fact that she even found a straight male model in New York is a testament of her skills.

Then MTV expanded on this public relations reputation with The Hills and The City.

Suddenly the industry shunned the stereotypes being created, claiming that public relations work was grueling and not glamorous like it was being portrayed.

I’ve got news for you: those people, the ones that argue that PR is grunge rather than glamour, either 1) worked at the wrong agency,or 2) lied.

I completely understand the rationale behind lying. If you had been drooling over the Manolo Blahnik Hangisi Jeweled Satin Pump a la Carrie Bradshaw ever since its appearance in the first (fabulous) Sex and the City movie, and you got the inside scoop that it would be 75% off at Bergdorfs, your lips would be zipped. Why risk someone beating you to the sale and, the horrow!, snagging the last pair in your size?

I believe that smarty-pants PR gals have begun downplaying the fabulousness of their jobs in order to prevent every Blair-Waldorf-wannabe from flocking to the interviews, thus stealing their job (…or Manolos.)

Their lies are merely to ensure their job security - I’m sure of it.

Here’s the truth: In my mere four days as an intern at a top public relations agency in Manhattan I have received four pairs of shoes gratis, acted as a street style spotter at “one of summer’s most unique and glamorous star-studded social events,” and stood inches away from Isla Fisher, Wyclef Jean, Whitney Port, Shenae Grimes, Naomi Watts, Marc Jacobs and Donna Karan.

Yes, there are stressful deadlines and long hours. No, you are not in Paris riding on a Vespa in a borrowed-couture gown the night before an event (thank you very much, Lauren Conrad). But in my humble and still undeveloped opinion, it is worth it.

(Remind me to refer back to this when the razzle-dazzle aspect has become run-of-the-mill and unimpressive.)

Tip: Log on to iTUNES at your absolute earliest convenience and download “The Glamorous Life,” after which this blog was named. Turn the volume pop, adorn yourself with your highest heels and the reddest of lipstick and feel instantly more glamorous. 

Note: It has come to my attention that according to The Economist, PR professionals also have the reputation of being “flacks,” slime-slingers,” members of the “dark side” and “urban foxes.” I can assure you that these accusations are false.

Though I would not typically encourage taking financial advice from Confession’s of a Shopaholic’s Rebecca Bloomwood, these wise words have merit: “Every shoe should earn its place in your wardrobe.”

My new shopping mantra is: “Do I need this?” “Is it versatile?” “How often can I wear it?”

The days of impulsively purchasing flashy, bedazzled (read: memorable and therefore worn seldom) French Connection dresses are long gone. In a city where a coffee costs $6 and a movie ticket is a whopping 13 bucks, they have to be!

Past purchases are being scrutinized; their security in my closet is no longer guaranteed. 

Strolling down 57th and dreamily taking in the window displays at Louis, Chanel and Dior, it is impossible not to covet the impossible. And so entering a store like H&M or Forever 21, with price tags that aren’t totally squirm-worthy, you get caught up in the affordability and leave with a plastic shopping bag with clothes tossed haphazardly inside.

But a skirt isn’t cheap if you only wear it once, even if it costs under $30. So Rebecca Bloomwood is right - everything must earn its place in your wardrobe (especially in Manhattan, where adequate closet space is hard to come by!)

These pieces are versatile enough to get you through a summer in the city:

1. Blazer 2. Versatile skirt for work or play 3. Nude Flats 4. Blouse to be dressed up or down 5. Straight Leg Jeans in a dark wash (I love the Citizen’s of Humanity Ava’s) 6. Lightweight shorts & colorful cardigans to throw on 7. Comfy sneaks’ for running around the city 8. Fun jewelry 9. Breezy sundresses 10. Sandals that match a majority of your wardrobe

New York City is “The City that Never Sleeps,” and since my arrival here four days ago I can understand why - there are simply too many fabulous sights and shops to squeeze into an average day!

Leaving work at 6:30, I hopped on the Subway and met up with my roommate for dinner. She needed to renew her subway pass so I offered to accompany her to the station. Next thing ya know, we’re in Herald Square, perusing through the shoe section at Macy’s and scouring through the goods at H&M at 10 p.m. Since we were just a short stroll from The Empire State Building, we couldn’t pass up checking out tonight’s light display. Finally, we were en route to the subway to return home…but oh wait! - There’s a Mister Softee food cart and we salivate at the mere sight. 

One H&M bag, chocolate milkshake and a subway rat-spotting later and we finally were back to home sweet non-air-conditioned home. 

I love leaving my very humble abode at 8 a.m. and not returning till wayyy after the sun has set. 

A city this fabulous is allowed to have insomnia.

Food Picks Du Jour: Downright delicious pizza from Patsys; Cupcake from Baked by Melissa

Sight I Saw: Empire State Building