After the Fit Flops of Summer are Gone

As much as I love, love, love summer (the beach, the smell of sunblock, the heat's making the consumption of ice cream damn near a necessity), I must acknowledge that there is already a certain crispness in the air, and with the first of the 400 fall holidays already behind us, there is no denying that fall is pulling into the station. And with fall come two lovely, beautiful, wonderful things - outerwear and.... boots. That's right, boots. Boots, boots boots!

Let's say a person has a generous number of boots already, but, let's just say, she doesn't have any casual, to-the-knee, ass-kicking boots. Well, not in brown. And let's say she has assembled an assortment of coupons, rewards cards and Amex gift cards, which when combined would bring the cost of these hypothetical boots down to a mere $10, if that much. Which boots should she buy? Should she buy the lace-up, Lucky pair, that tells her fellow subway riders she is not joking about her strict enforcement of the one-ass-one-seat rule? Or should she buy the pre-distressed, lug-soled Clarks that make a similar statement, but with a hint more granola, but for sure not even a whiff of that acrid patchouli oil?

Make Your Own Lucky

My Lucky abandonment is complete. I am now faced with post-traumatic store syndrome, brought on by the homogenization and boringification of my favorite retail outlet. I attend twelve step meetings and have an official, turquoise-adorned, flowy-sleeved sponsor. But between the meetings and texts to my sponsor, I find myself trawling sites and stores in search of that same feeling that Lucky used to bring me.

My latest find is this $25 blouse. I liked the adorned smockiness and the gauzy feel. For all that, though, it is a weak substitute. It is the methodone of boho blouses.

UnLucky

Lucky is no longer. Oh, sure, it exists, but it is no longer Lucky. Now it's some other store entirely. Some store selling basic, Gap-like tanks in a variety of bright hues, tied up with twine in cute little bundles, at two-fer prices. The store is clean and bright and has big displays with pictures of freshly scrubbed 18-year-olds wearing boring American Eagley clothes. Who wants that? Maybe freshly scrubbed 18-year olds. Who need multiple tanks.


As you can imagine, this situation has inspired quite the identity crisis in me. Where will I buy my Stevie Nicks floor length velvet coats, for hanging out with the stoners? Who will crochet me granny-square scarves? Am I to cobble my own giant clogs with studs or pre-distresesd motorcycle boots (for wearing on the subway, of course)? These are some of the very many questions Lucky, and its new parent company, Liz Claiborne, have left me with.

I conferred with the two managers (who no doubt were preparing to act as bouncers, should I reach the hysterical state I seemed to be working myself into) at my local Lucky store, and learned that, for now, the accessories were still from the old, Gene-and-Barry, long-live-rock-n-roll Lucky. So, I bought these $54 shoes as one last hurrah (and possibly some earrings... and a set of bracelets). With a 5 inch heel they make me hugely tall and vaguely menacing. Should be very helpful the next time I run into Tim Gunn in my neighborhood and proceed to take him to task for destroying my store. No doubt I'll be asked to remove them for the mugshot and/or visit with the court-appointed psychiatrist (I do hope it's B.D. Wong).

Rain, Rain, Stay All Day

You know what would be so freaking awesome? If it would just rain some more. Truly, it just has not rained enough this spring. For sure my feet have perma-sog, but that is a small price to pay for the joy that is chilly, wet overcast days, weeks on end. I honestly hope that we never see a sunny warm day ever again, and I commemorate this desire with a $21 floral blouse covered in flowers, all in varying shades of glorious gray.

Gift Me

It is my birthday month (yes, I get a whole month, I am just that awesome), and all my good friends are helping me celebrate! My pal Mr. Loehmann, my buddy Ms. Sephora, the friendly Mr. B. Republic and my new BFF, Dr. Antrhopologie.

OK, I do have actual human friends and family and they may remember my birthday, but they typically do not offer me a set of lip glosses, $15 of free merchandise, or clothing at an additional 15% off. Or this awesome glazed leather bag for $85, courtesy of my aforementioned BFF. Of course, a true BFF would figure out just where I am supposed to store all these bags. And she would not say, "wherever the frick you're gonna store all those boots, you boot-n-bag-crazy fool." Becuase that is not a nice way to talk to the birthday girl.

It's Warm! It's Warm! It's Warm!

Love this for $19.50, under a suit, or with jeans. Of course, I prefer the Kansas version,

but you may prefer the Oz version, in technicolor.

Secret Vice

I have a thing for belts. It is not unlike my thing for boots. Well, it is unlike my thing for boots in that my belt obsession is more easily hidden, as I can fit all the belts on a belt hanger in my closet. Here is the one I am most recently obsessing over, $14 with a coupon. Perfect for one of those 'it's-a-shirt, no-it's-a-dress, no-it's-a-shirt' shirts. Or dress.