Late Afternoon Post

I know I come off as kind of confused, lost about my career. In many ways, I am these things. I'm constantly debating the pros and cons of the two, and trying to figure out what I REALLY want in not only my career life, but my life LIFE as well, since the career part greatly affects my overall being. But in another way - a fantasy dreamworld way, where money is not an issue - I know exactly what I want to do/be.

But this is reality, and I live in it. And as nice as dreams are to have, they aren't always the most doable. Sure, I can suffer and face homelessness and complete bankruptcy, but would it pay off in the end? All the servers/actors do it, but do they ALL make it? No.

And then when/if you don't, what do you do?

Two weeks later

Mom is out of the ICU though still in the hospital, Piggie is back in town and fatter (and happier) than ever, and I can soon get back to some sort of normalcy (I hope).

Still stressed in other ways, but overall, things are looking up.

Photo taken last week while still in the ICU.

Exhaustion

Sitting in the dark and empty ICU waiting room at 2AM has left me feeling exhausted. It's not just physical. I'm exhausted in ways I didn't know were possible. It's all for a reason a million times worth it, but sitting here with my eyes half open is making me delusional. Is that a Monet on the wall and is it in 3d?

There isn't that much going on in my mind right now except my own personal troubles. Aside from the obvious, I'm worried about my professional life. I've never been so lost about it before. I have my pros and cons lists but my inner Gemini just can't decide. Fashion? Advertising? Something completely new? How? Is it worth it? What do I really want in life? Could I be happy with fashion as a hobby instead of a career? What is the most important factor I look for in a job? Why do I have so many questions and so few answers?

Attached please find a picture of my bleak 2am existence.

I'm sure I'll read this later under normal circumstances and hastily delete out of embarrassment. This no sleeping in the hospital thing may have turned me into an incoherent philosophical idiot.

Faith

And then it happens.

All the other aspects that plague my life on a daily basis suddenly become trivial. Perspective, I guess.

And I feel helpless. Overwhelmed by emotions never felt at such levels of extremity, I need something to believe in. We all do. Whatever it is, whoever it is, it's not only comforting during crises like these, but (at least for me) necessary.

I've never been very religious. I'm still not sure what I believe in - angels, spirits, some God? Whoever you are - please fix her. Make me believe, I need something to believe in.

'Cuz you're a New York City boy (girl)...

Often, very often, I have dreams of being back in New York. The dreamed New York isn't actually like the real New York at all, but in its own crazy place in my sleeping mind, it is.

I miss it. I sometimes wonder if I will ever end up there again.

Moisturizing Happiness

This is coming from a girl who, on a daily basis wears eyeliner and SPF and considers her face complete, and a girl who HATES orange and brown smears on necklines when trying on clothes - but I'm totally loving tinted moisturizers. Sure, it's only my first day wearing it and I really haven't checked a mirror since leaving the house, but my skin feels moisturized and not at all like I'm wearing face makeup. I really hate foundations and concealers and powders and such. I can actually tolerate a powder foundation - I own the Chanel one but haven't made much of a dent in it since I bought it in 2009 - but straight up foundations feel like really serious makeup. Like, where you need actual tools to apply it. I like to keep it real with my makeup and beauty routines. No fuss. I don't keep up with all the newest beauty fads and basically just follow the same simple routine everyday with tried and true drugstore products. But I had been reading a lot recently about how not only does foundation create a nice, even appearance, but it protects your face from "the elements". I don't really know what that means, to tell you the truth, but I do care for my skin, even if I don't spend much time or money on it. So I looked into foundation options and tinted moisturizer seemed best for me since it's still mostly a moisturizer with some color thrown in to even out skin tone. Sounds good, yeah?

After some online research, off to Sephora I went. I'm usually completely lost when I go into Sephora, drugstores, or any makeup counter. I don't know what I need, what colors look good on me (am I a warm or a cool? I will never know), and which products are best. But this time I had read about Maria Duenas Jacobs' easy and natural makeup routine on Into The Gloss, and was after the Dior Hydralife Tinted Moisturizer. It was $40 and only come in three numbered shades, but had SPF which is a huge plus for an anti-light vampire like myself. I went for the 2 and applied it to half of my face with one of those sponges at those mini mirror stations. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I was surprised at how much I liked it. It was so easy to apply, blended right in, and looked natural. What more could I ask for?

However, while in line to pay, I noticed the Laura Mercier travel size for only $20. The smaller sizer came in only two colors - nude and sand. Since it was half the price and I wasn't a complete convert to this whole new tinted moisturizer thing, I figured it would be better to get a smaller size first. So I went and tried on the LM in sand and honestly, both the Dior and the Laura felt nearly identical, with maybe a little more coverage on the Laura. The colors were pretty similar, and they both felt nice and light on my skin. Not make-uppy at all!

In the end, I went for the Laura Mercier because it was cheaper and I thought Laura Mercier had a better reputation for her skincare than Dior, and I was right. The Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturizer has won several beauty awards and has tons of glowing reviews on MakeupAlley, Sephora, and other sites. The criticizers say it's oily or too yellow (am I yellow?), but I loved it in store and it's held up wonderfully on my dry skin so far. It doesn't cover my freckles or look too flawless, so it's perfect. I find the biggest benefits to be the SPF20 and the fact that it evens out the uneven skin tone I've acquired from wearing sunglasses. Could it be? Me, someone who is always paranoid that skin makeup will smudge onto my clothes and sunglasses, someone who likes to touch her face more often than a normal person should, enjoying a form of makeup that I must smear all over my face like softened, room-temperature butter? Yes, yes it could be. And is!

Holiday Treats

After two blissful weeks of doing absolutely nothing, my holiday break came to an official end today. Waking up before 1p was actually not the impossible task I imagined it to be. Maybe it's because when I fall asleep knowing I have to wake up early the next day, I don't allow myself to fall into a deep slumber. Whatever the reason, rising before 1p from a bedtime of 3 to 4am proved to be a success.

The break began on the 15th with the WhoWhatWear holiday party at The Churchill. I had received a possible employment opportunity and had just discovered Revlon's Lip Butters in Pink Truffle and was in swell spirits. As was the tradition with holiday parties I had been to in the past, I was expecting food, but instead was surprised and a bit dismayed at the lack of even hors d'oeuvres. The disappointment of delicious sustenance quickly faded as one of the assistants encouraged us to fill up on the open bar. I was wearing what has become my easiest and least creative uniform - severe monochromatic black (superstitious Asian mother would strongly oppose) - and the combination of 5"+ platforms and just a wee bit of champagne nearly caused me a broken face as I left the party. All was good in the end though, a couple other interns and I worked the guest list at a table and had some good conversation.

I had to drop off boyfriend at the airport to fly home for Christmas a few days later, so I was alone in my then-empty apartment the entirety of my first week off. I really didn't mind. There's something comforting and unusually satisfying about being around my things. I never said I wasn't materialistic. I don't see why it has to be a bad thing. Being near my things just gives me pleasure. There's really no good reason why.

Then came the nights of doing nothing until 4am. I love unproductive late nights. I always thought that if the world conducted business at night, I would be function a million times better. I can't even tell you what I did these nights because I honestly don't remember.

And before I knew it, it was Christmas and I was home. I was given gifts although I wasn't able to reciprocate. Someday, when I actually start making money doing something I actually enjoy! The only person I exchanged gifts was with boyfriend, whom received a masculine dark gray Clarisonic Mia to achieve that flawless, pore-free appearing skin he so desires. This plus some Kiehl's Mens Facial Fuel moisturizer. The man does not use lotion. How come they never have to? Ugh.

Anyway, then came my gift. I had a hunch for weeks before finding out what it was he got me. This was mostly based on comments and questions that led to... the Chloe Paraty bag! I'm staring at it on my bed as I write this, though I will probably return this one and get one at the actual Chloe store. He and I went together to Nordstrom to get the last one on their display. I didn't think of it then, but this display bag didn't come with the care booklet or authentication cards. Both aren't very important, but if he's going to spend that much, I'd like to get everything that comes with it just in case. But isn't it pretty? The black isn't the most luscious color, but it's so versatile (love the shoulder strap) and goes with most of my wardrobe perfectly. The one thing I was lacking in my wardrobe was a good, all around bag. I was debating between this and the Celine luggage shopper in the mini size but decided this was better because it has a zipper, shoulder strap, and overall looks best for my current style. I would of course love a Chanel jumbo or simply the 2.55, but it's still far too much. The Celine is still fantastic, however maybe just a tad bit mature for my look right now.

Boyfriend said the bag was a Christmas gift but also a reward for me "taking risks" with my career the past year (and now). Now whenever I'm feeling hopeless, I look at the bag and what it symbolizes, and am instantly re-energized.

And here's to 2012. Hope it's as good as the beginning of it has been.

Better

And here it is - the end of another year that has flown by in what seems like far less than 365 days. It's crazy to think it's been four years since I finished school and could have actually repeated college in the time since. When I think back to the first half of my 20s, it's all very blurry. I attribute this to working jobs that were unfulfilling (blogger says this is not a word, but I'm keeping it. You understand, yes?) and that left me frustrated and unappreciated. Each morning began with dreadful emotions and contemplations of calling in sick. As the day passed, my time was spent doing a mixture of several things: work (but of course), visiting the usual blogs, counting down the clock until 5:30, pug picture research, plans for the weekend, lunch, and the number of days until the next paycheck. Now at 26, much poorer and financially unstable than I was even just a year ago, I am interestingly more satisfied with my life than I was in my early 20s. Although I still fight with this often, I do feel it's true when they say certain sacrifices are worthy of all the troubles endured to get where you want to be.

I'm not participating in Christmas this year. Post-KCD, I returned to California and am residing in the same apartment I left to go to New York. Before leaving, I set up an interview with WhoWhatWear for an internship and interviewed immediately upon my return. A month later, I started work as an editorial intern in the most stylish office I've ever held employment - unpaid or otherwise. And so it goes without saying that as with most internships, this internship is unpaid -- leaving me with very little cash to do any kind of shopping. I'm strangely okay with this, maybe partially due to the fact that Christmas shopping can be so stressful. I only have one gift to worry about this year, and that's boyfriend's.

An unexpected benefit to being a broke intern is that it forces me to be creative with what I already own in my closet. Since I cannot easily go out and purchase the newest and hottest trend, I must repeat existing clothing pieces in new and different ways to prevent those paranoid thoughts of "Oh she's wearing that again? Doesn't she have any other clothes?" I used to do this when I was younger (with less dough), but once I started making my own money, I felt there were so many new items to be had and didn't bother wearing each dress/shirt/skirt in more than one or two ways. Each piece would be relegated to the back of the closet when it was replaced by another quick, of-the-moment item. So even though there are the obvious drawbacks, there is some light in my state of financial suffering.

I'm finding pleasure in the things I've long taken for granted. I don't know where this revival comes from, but I'm grateful for it.

Sex and the City

I've posted one of Candace Bushnell's quotes before, and today found myself thinking back to it again. I looked it up and was led to an Elle Decor story on her Greenwich Village Manhattan apartment. I loved the supposed story behind it so much I thought I'd share a piece of it here, even if it may be old:

I'm the kind of person who would have liked to have lived at the Plaza. I love crystal chandeliers and gold leaf, velvets and mirrors, Oriental rugs and marble. I love things that are old and glittery, that come with layers of glamour and past lives. So the moment my husband and I walked into our apartment for the first time nearly two years ago, we knew that this was it.

Built in the 1920s, reputedly as bachelor pads for well-heeled young men who were making their fortunes on Wall Street, the apartments in this Greenwich Village building had sunken living rooms, woodburning fireplaces, 11-foot ceilings, and arched windows (some even had “Juliet balconies” from which, I imagine, the bachelors could yell down to their friends on the street). Back in the 1920s, I suppose the building was considered to have every modern convenience, as there were servants’ quarters on the top floor, and, in the basement, extensive kitchens from which the young men could order dinner which was sent up in a dumbwaiter. It was all very Jeeves & Wooster, reeking of late-night parties and illicit affairs, bathtub gin and jazz. To this day a house rule exists that no musical instruments are to be played after 8 P.M.

You can read the rest of the story and see more photos here.

Change

I know, I know. I'm thinking of changing this blog from mainly fashion to just a general "me" blog. I think I could post more often and more personal stories. It's not like I publish this blog anywhere or anything, so those who do read it are most likely people I know in offline world. I was just thinking about when I had a Xanga account way back in the day, and I enjoy rereading those entries written by an 18-year-old me moreso than ones that are completely materialistic...

We shall see.

Tumblr

In addition to this blog, you can also visit my Tumblr and MadelineChalaban.tumblr.com. It's new and needs help with its design, but you can still read the posts. They kind of come from all over the place - not so fashion-focused as this one.

Enjoy!

P.S. I am interning at WhoWhatWear now, trying to find my way in the fashion world. I need to find it soon!

Home

Hello blue skies, palm trees, and driving. I'm home.

Was it all just a dream?

An Exhilarating End

The end is near! To be clear, my internship-turned-freelance position is officially over, and my time in New York ends on September 30th. I'm in LA right now, but am headed back to the east tomorrow.

Fashion week/month was exhausting, but a experience that will probably never be replicated in my life again. The days leading up to and during NYFW were characterized by endless hours, stress, and a few pounds lost (back by now, I'm sure). My favorite part? Seeing the shows. I'd seen shows before, but I never thought I'd see one with guests such as Valentino, Oscar De La Renta, Anna Wintour, and every other big name editor I've only ever seen online and in magazines. The Victoria Beckham show turned out well, but was actually not the best morning for me. I was stressed out by last minute seating changes and felt that the check in process was a mess. It was the morning of the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and check-in was punctuated by moments of silence. Many incoming guests did not know this, however, and continued to talk to us over these silences. But in the end, it was all worth it. Something I realized from my six month stint though? PR is not for me. I just don't find it interesting enough. I love clothing, but not necessarily getting press for the clothing and designers.

What does my future hold? At least career-wise? I'm not sure. It scares me when I think about it, but right now I'm focused on enjoying my last two weeks in NYC. I really need to take more pictures. And incorporate more colors into my wardrobe.

The Home Stretch

The office at sunset

It's here. Five months have flown by and it's now the last month of my time here in NYC. Hard to believe it's been nearly half a year already, and that I will be done in no time. Starting tomorrow, I will be working a continuous ten days straight in preparation for fashion week. The Victoria Beckham show is on Sunday, 9/11 at 10AM at the New York Public Library. That will be fun to get to. And after the 15th, my time at KCD is done.

Until then, it's all work. The past couple of weeks have been a blur of editor names, photographers, socialites, celebrities, and anyone else deemed important enough to attend any of the great shows KCD manages. Lots of requests, seating, and invitations. All day into the night. There have also been a slew of models in and out of the office for casting. At 6 feet tall with legs coming out of their noses, it makes me think twice about gobbling down that sweet and delicious Billy's cupcake (but then I think thrice and shove it down my throat). There have been plenty of pretty and not-so-pretty male models in as well. How do these boys find girlfriends? Not sure I could go out with a boy who is much prettier than I ever could be.

That's the Victoria Beckham show invitation above (duh). Those who have seen it think it's so classy and sophisticated, and it IS, except that I think it would have been better with some bolder colors instead of a sort of drab grey. But I'm sure the Victoria team has their reasons. I shouldn't question the Posh.

I've been stocking up on black ensembles for the shows. We're only allowed to wear black, and not even exciting black. No bedazzled black dresses or slutty ones you'd wear to the club. Basic black. Not that I was planning to wear any crazy extravagant black outfits anyway.

So tomorrow it continues. And by the time I have time to blog again, it will be over. I may even be back in Los Angeles. It scares me a little.

Anywho, here's to a great NYFW.

P.S. I hope Victoria Beckham is cool. I'm so excited to work with her. I bet I'll look like a whale next to her skinny little ass though.

Influence

I recently tried to think back to when my obsession with all things wardrobe began. For as far back as I can remember, clothing was always a very important factor in my life. But what factors really encouraged this sartorial love?

One of my biggest fashion influences comes from fiction. It was somewhere between third and fourth grade, when I had began to outgrow my American Girl books and gradually grow into my Baby-Sitters Club ones. Even though these books were part of a series, author Ann M. Martin always spent the first chapter of each book describing in detail each club member. And within these descriptions, were very meticulous portrayals of each character's wardrobe. Claudia and Stacey were considered the most fashionable of the girls, with Claudia being an artist and Stacey from New York City, which of course meant she was uber chic. Even though it was probably well into the mid-90s and Claudia and Stacey were wearing push down socks, fedoras, and giant flamingo earrings, there was something about these vivid descriptions that always made me fold down the corners of the pages they were on. They were ridiculous 80s outfits I would never wear even today (but can probably be found on some Coachella-loving hipster somewhere), but still some part of me obsessed over these pages. I reread these pages over and over again, engrossed over every little detail of every outfit. I think part of it it was that I felt Ann M. Martin and whatever ghostwriter found that what the girls wore was significant in the development of their characters. I feel the same about individual style now, and was probably looking for validation of my feelings back then too. I found this excerpt from a BSC Dawn book:

This is the outfit Claudia helped me to choose: a white tank top under lavender overalls, lavender push-down socks, lavender high-top sneakers, and a beaded Indian belt, which we looped droopily twice around my middle. In my hair we put lavender-and-white clips that looked like birds. I thought they were just any kind of bird, but Claudia swore up and down that they were birds of paradise. Who knows? (I think she was making that up.)

This is absolutely fabulous. And it was descriptions like these, that inspired my nine-year-old little self.

And this too:

Stacey had pulled back her permed blonde hair back with a leopard-print scarf tied under one ear. She was wearing one of her favorite pairs of earrings, gold leaf-shaped ones. She was also wearing a black wrap long-sleeve top, a short low-slung skirt with a big belt, black tights, and leopard print flats. She looked extremely cool. Which of course she is.

And...

Then Claudia handed me a full white skirt with the words Paris, Rome, and London, and sketchy pink and blue pictures of the Eiffel Tower, the Tower Bridge, and other stuff scrawled all over it. She matched it up with a pink shirt and a baggy pink sweater. I would never, ever have tried on that skirt, but with the shirt and sweater it looked really cool.
In the shoe department we found white slip-ons with pink and blue edging that matched the pink and blue in the skirt. I’d never have looked twice at those shoes, either, but with the rest of the outfit they were perfect.

More...

. . . for this early December meeting when most of us were in jeans and sweaters, Stacey (who is tall and on the thin side, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes) wore black leggings with cowboy boots, an oversized turtleneck sweater, and this cool black suede vest with pearl buttons. Claudia (who is Japanese-American with creamy, perfect skin, brown eyes, and long, straight black hair) was wearing leggings, too - purple ones - with black Doc Martens*, red slouch socks, black bicycle shorts over the leggings, a big t-shirt with the words "This Might Be Art" scrawled on it in purple (I knew she'd made it herself), and an old black suit jacket of her father's, with the sleeves rolled up. Stacey had gone for your basic gold earrings. Claudia's earrings were purple feathers (she made those herself, too).

Rereading these excerpts now has inspired me all over again! Forget the Alexa Chungs and Nicole Richies of the world. Before either of them could even dress themselves was the Baby-Sitters Club. Definitely one of the top, if not the number one, style influences in my life.

I found a lot of these excerpts from this great and hilarious website, What Claudia Wore.

August Gemini

It's a poor picture from some fashion magazine I don't remember (possible Allure?), but it's so spot on with what's going on in my life right now that I hope some part of it is true. Boyfriend and I are trying to squeeze a trip in after the fashion week hoopla and sister's wedding in October. Italy, perhaps?

I love this Givenchy gown from the showroom at my work. It's just been hanging there for the past few days, practically telling me to put it on! But it's going to Courtney Love.

I'm freelancing late August through September for fashion week. Excited!

Halfway there

I'm halfway done with my internship here in NYC. I'm planning on pushing back my end date to after mid-September so I can work fashion week and see the shows!

I recently read some stylist tips in People StyleWatch (I think), that you should return everything you haven't worn in a week from its date of purchase. If I were to abide by this principle, I'd have no clothes. Most items in my closet have never been worn and were purchased weeks, mostly months, before. Case in point, this leopard dress from H&M I got last summer. I just whipped it out for the first time a few weeks ago. It still had its tags attached. I guess I'm always saving the more memorable items for the right occasions. I mean, how often can you wear a giant green and black leopard print dress with the same effect each time?

Living in such a drastically different city than any other I've ever lived in before has proven to be difficult on my feet. Some shoes that I consider comfortable become notsomuch after walking all over the city, subway stairs included. Aside from my super comfortable Gap City Flats, I wanted something that still allowed for me to wear longer dresses and pants while still being comfortable. So a few weeks ago when I wore that leopard dress with some eventually painful Barneys Co-Op booties, I bought some inexpensive Steve Madden Westii platform sandals in black. I've been trying to invest in better clothing items, and although Steve Madden would never be considered "higher quality" or designer by any means, the platforms have saved my poor, blistered feet. Now, the hunt begins for some nude/natural colored wedges that are equally versatile and comfortable.

Here are some pictures of the last month or so. I got my haircut at this Japanese place in the East Village and they did a good job, but it was a little short (and thinned out, so feels shorter) so I've been wearing it up until it grows to a more comfortable length. It's pretty blah down.

P.S. I really want that Rastafarian banana. You can only win it by making baskets into an oval shaped hoop somewhere in Soho/Little Italy. I'm not even sure that little fair/carnival thing is still there, but I even tried ebaying it, and I couldn't find one. Now I want it even more.

P.P.S. I am compiling a list of stores that I've discovered during my time here and will post at the end.

Off Topic

Off topic from everything, but this must be told. Someday last week, I was hurriedly walking to the subway to get to work, when I saw what I think was either some construction worker or other physical labor type worker, and he was bent over fixing something. He looked completely normal and anyone who saw him would agree that there was nothing remarkable about him at all. That is, until they saw the bright red thong sticking out of his pants.

Only in New York?

I guess it's possible in LA as well.

I wish I would have taken a photo. Kind of.

Various

Just a compilation of some random shots of the city from the last two months. Most of them are from Central Park. I can't help that the park is so photogenic.

The second to last is of some vintage prom dresses at the Columbus flea market by my place. I loved all the colors and how they were all just hanging from the fence.

And the last blurry fabulous quality one is of yours truly.