May 2012 – Page 2 – the chelsea chronicles

the military ball

This week’s edition of Must Have Monday is being postponed in order to bring you this special bulletin. Over the weekend, I received somewhat of an urgent email from a friend I’m going to call Lee. The message read something like this:

Help! I was just invited to attend a military ball out of town in mid June, and I want to wear a fabulous dress. I enjoyed reading about and seeing pictures from your own adventures during the guest of the wedding style dilemma, and I would like to put myself in your hands and be your project.

Devotedly Yours in Fashion,

Lee

As it turns out, DC Celine and I have been dying for a good fashion project since successfully finding me a dress for Kaitlan’s wedding.

There’s not a lot of time to act. The event is a Special Forces Ball, and the location is some place not subject to high heat and humidity this early in the summer the way we are here. Lee is a busy professional with an active social life so we’ll have to jump immediately on the project. Her open mind on the specifications of this dress should make her an easy candidate to dress. She wants a floor length gown. Unlike me, she doesn’t have a bunch of absurd rules about what she will or won’t wear. (In other words, she’s open to strapless and one-shouldered options.) And she looks fabulous in bold colors. No black dress is going to win this challenge if I have anything to say about it. Lee also works out regularly and will look good in just about any style of dress.

There will be a Pinterest board: belle of the ball dress challenge. (If you want pinning rights, comment here or send me an email and I’ll add you to the esteemed list.)

There will be a Twitter hashtag: #belleoftheball

There will be shopping (of course) and pictures of dresses Lee tries on.

And at the end of the project, there will be a beautiful dress on its way westward for an evening of dancing with men in uniform. While her relationship with her date is platonic, it doesn’t mean the dress won’t get potential date use some other time when she gets back home.

I’m thinking Inaugural Ball.

men’s wear wednesday: just say no to dad jeans

I have two hot girlfriends who recently went on dates with guys who showed up in what I refer to as dad jeans. You know exactly what they look like. They’re a lighter wash. They’re high-waisted. They’re unflattering. They might as well have a tapered leg. Oh wait, sometimes they do.

I want to let men in on a secret: we like to check out your asses as much as you check out ours. I’m not saying that you have to go invest hundreds of dollars in designer jeans if that isn’t in your comfort zone or budget. I get it. You see jeans as being something you wear to kick around in, do yard work, coach little league. But I’d just like to make a few suggestions.

Stay away from colored denim. Unless you have a comfortable hipster swagger, skinny jeans are probably not for you. When you are going out on a date, try wearing jeans of a darker hue like this very budget friendly pair from the Gap. When you buy them, don’t get them baggy already because denim stretches. It stretches a lot. A trip to the Denim Bar, even if you don’t end up buying anything there, can be very enlightening. But I can almost promise you that if you do go to the Denim Bar, you will walk out with something in your bag.

If you don’t believe me, check out how amazing my friend’s husband looks from behind in his designer jeans. Imagine throwing a blazer on over this look for casual Friday at the office (or everyday at the office if you work in that type of environment). Envision yourself going out to a bar or dinner with your date in these. You will most assuredly turn some heads, and not just of the woman on your arm.

rainy day obsession

I have only ever bought one umbrella in my entire adult life, and for some reason, I still have it. Considering it wasn’t free, it’s the worst umbrella ever. The button on the handle that you push to open the damn thing is super sensitive and also brings the umbrella down with just the tiniest amount of pressure. So when I’m running in the rain to or from my car balancing my computer bag on one shoulder and my purse on the other, inevitably I hit the button and my umbrella closes. Then I have to juggle what I’m carrying, and attempt to reopen the umbrella, (which isn’t easy either) while the rain pours down on me, making me angrier than a wet cat.

But I paid for that umbrella so I have to keep it.

In the past, umbrellas were just the type of thing that found their way into my hands. Many were “borrowed” and some were “found.” I believe in the karma of umbrellas. If you forget yours behind in a restaurant or on the train, the next time it’s raining, you will likewise find one for your use. I operated for years under this system until two years ago in a moment of desperation when I decided to buy an umbrella. Unfortunately for me, it just happens to be one which, as we have firmly established, I hate.

Now with the forecast in DC calling for rain levels that will hopefully dent our drought, I sigh with disgust as I look at the mean-spirited umbrella dangling by its cord around my closet doorknob. And I dream of a nice umbrella, one the is big enough to provide coverage for two people, if necessary. One that is memorable enough that I won’t leave it behind anywhere. One that will pair just as well with my high gloss black Hunter boots as it does with my cherry red trench coat (which sadly happens to be at the dry cleaner today).

Of course, I found the perfect umbrella, the appropriately named Unsurpassed Umbrella. But at a cost that is equivalent to a pair of shoes, I will only dream of wielding its awesomeness. Especially since I know that if I haven’t been able to lose the cheap umbrella with a severe functional flaw these last two years, I’m guaranteed to lose this one within a few times of using it.

And that would just piss me off more than being stuck in the rain with a closed umbrella on a good hair day.

must have monday: pretty underpinnings

This might be my third post on my love for nice underpinnings, but my devotion to matching bra and panty sets is not to be underestimated.

Every great lingerie set begins with the bra. The right bra can make you look enhanced. The right bra should fit comfortably. And of course, even the most functional bra can (and should) be pretty. Over the last year or so, I have carefully weeded my drawer of the bras that are uncomfortable, stretched out and have seams or other finicky details that always show through no matter what you have on. (These styles are not meant to be worn under clothes obviously, but how long do they really stay on in “other” circumstances? Not long enough to deserve space in a drawer.) Straps that slip? Don’t put up with that. Underwire poking out? Girlfriends, get rid of it. Does part of your breast hang out underneath the cup of the bra? Unacceptable. Life is too short to wear uncomfortable (or unflattering) bras.

I have slowly converted most of my bras to the style (Marie Jo plunge) I wrote about last September. The daisy detail on the strap adds a touch of femininity but the cup itself allows this bra to be worn under the tightest of t-shirts. I now own it in cosmic blue, black, ruby red, hot pink and cafe latte. And because I buy multiple panties to match each bra, I can get several wears a week out of the same color, if that is what my heart desires and wardrobe dictates. The versatility also allows for less frequent bra washings, which, let’s be honest, none of us like to do. (Note: I have been assured that washing my bras in a lingerie bag on delicate is fine, but you must air dry it.) I undertake this process less than I like to admit.

I know I have not left much to the imagination of those who might be curious as to what lies beneath, but my desire to convert the disbelievers is strong. Whether you have been married a gazillion years and think it doesn’t matter what your undergarments look like or are young and starting off in your career, get in the habit of at least matching your underpinnings even if they aren’t technically a set. Then begin by investing in a nice set that fits (please get a fitting) but don’t just save it for special occasions. Try wearing it on any old day. Turn the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Then, once you are a true believer, come talk to me about shoes.

mother’s day

I have been told by two little boys (who may be slightly biased) that I am the best mommy ever. I know full well I am not. There are millions of best mothers out there.

We all have our struggles. Whether (like me) you are juggling being the solo head of household with a demanding career and two children or you are the mother of four who’s holding down three jobs just to put food in her kids mouths, most mothers make the sacrifices necessary for their family. The mom who stays home full time with her children deserves a special order of sainthood in my eyes. Regardless of the external factors in our lives, we put aside our own hobbies, interests and needs in order to give our all to our kids.

Mothers suffer from fatigue. (Yes, you can watch TV while I take a nap.) We wrestle with the guilt we feel when our kids frustrate us. Sometimes when a raised voice is not enough to get their attention, I do what is described as the “crazy mommy dance” where I go all five-year-old with shrill cries and rapid foot-stamping. Then I fear these moments are what my boys will remember most about me. After a 12-day run of having the kids every night while their dad was on vacation, I admit it felt good to go out to dinner on Thursday instead of rushing home to pick up them up and get them to baseball practice or help with homework. But while it was nice to have a break, when I went to bed that night, out of habit I peeked into their rooms to check on them.

And this morning when I woke up to an empty house, I might have cried.

Growing up, there was never any question in my mind that I wanted to be a mother. Regardless, I still marvel that I have two such beautiful (albeit dirty, stinky, wise-cracking, stubborn, exhausting) little boys in my life. A brief pregnancy scare recently gave me days (five to be exact) to think about what it would be like to mother through all the stages of infancy and early childhood again. I was ready to embrace it, sleepless nights, career challenges and all. Colin has such middle child syndrome already that I always assumed I’d have a third.

In my heart, every day is Mother’s Day. When I arrived at the kids’ little league game yesterday and Colin left the bench to come give me a hug, that was better than any card. When Jack says, “I love you, Mommy” for no apparent reason, it’s better than getting roses, sleeping in or having breakfast in bed. The challenge is to remember these moments and store them someplace special so you can draw on them in the times of fatigue, frustration and loneliness.

Or, perhaps, to ward off the crazy mommy dance.

men’s wear wednesday: the custom suit (guest author)

Last week when I launched my new weekly menswear column, I did it with a sense of panic. Do I know enough about what men (and the women who dress them) want in their closets to be informative to my readers? With that spirit in mind, I turn my blog over this week to my dad, to let him detail a wardrobe encounter I haven’t and probably won’t ever have: ordering custom-made suits.

My Custom Suit Fitting

by Bruce Henderson

Hong Kong tailors have long been famous for their custom-made suits. And now it turns out you don’t have to travel halfway around the world to have one made.

A recent article in the New York Times about a Hong Kong tailor who barnstorms the U.S. thrice a year conducting fittings and taking orders for custom suits reminded me how much I have always wanted one. I went on Empire International Tailors website (empiretailors.com) and booked a fitting in late April in San Francisco.

I knew I would take my wife with me, as Laura is the classiest dresser I know and a connoisseur of fabrics. However, a few days before my fitting, I addressed a concern. “Honey, I want your help picking out fabrics, but I don’t want you there for my fitting. A man and his tailor, well, it’s kinda like a woman and her gynecologist.”

“I understand,” said my understanding wife. “I’ll bring my Kindle.”

When we arrived for the fitting, the living room of the penthouse at the Marriott Marquis had been transformed into a large fitting room with long tables displaying hundreds of small swatches of fabric.

The fabric selection came first. There were four priced tiers of fabric in various colors and patterns. We went from lowest-to-highest cost. The first two suits I ordered were easy. A black suit (highest tier) made of the finest Italian wool that I’ll keep in my closet “a lifetime,” said the tailor’s twenty-something son, Mark Asaf, dressed in his own smart suit. “Yes,” I agreed, “and maybe beyond.” Next came a Loro Piana navy (2nd highest tier). Both these jackets can be worn as blazers, so I picked out fabric for extra trousers (deep tan and darkish gray). For my third suit, we settled on a gray with subtle, narrow white pinstripes (2nd highest tier). All are to be two-button, ventless, with cuffed pants. Then I ordered nine custom shirts, including two tuxedo shirts (in white and black, lay-down collar, nonpleated); a couple with band collars and the rest classic straight collars, with a mix of French and button cuffs.

Now it was time for the head tailor and the face of Empire International since it opened in 1983, Anthony Asaf, and his assistant to have their way with me. For the next hour I stood as still as a Rodin as copious measurements were taken and retaken. Eventually, a crudely-sewn cotton suit form was placed around me, and it was pinned and tweaked to fit. As the tailors pawed me in a most ethical manner, I occasionally tried to fill in awkward lulls in the conversation. Given all this intimacy, it seemed we should at least be talking.

“Do you know the first U.S. president to wear a brown suit?” I asked.

The head tailor did not know.

“Ronald Reagan. Started a whole new trend in Washington, a town filled mostly with grays and blues.”

I actually had a second presidential-suit trivia question.

“Know the first president to wear a two-button suit?”

My tailor shook his head as he deftly brought his measuring strap down my zipper from my belt buckle, under my crotch, and up to my belt line in the back.

“JFK,” I announced brightly. “Before that, all three-button.”

A word about prices: Empire International does not sell the least-expensive suits or make them from the cheapest fabric. Prices for a custom-made suit from a Hong Kong tailor are similar to prices for an off-the-rack suit from a U.S. department store, ranging from $250 to $2,500. Only they will fit much better.

A DHL package from Hong Kong will soon hit my porch. Inside it will be one of my custom suits and one shirt. I am to try them on, and email final approval for the rest to be completed. If any adjustments are necessary, Empire International assures me it will taken care of.

My only nagging regret is that I didn’t order a brown suit for my next trip to Washington.

My father is the author of many bestselling books, including his latest, HERO FOUND: The Greatest POW Escape of the Vietnam War, for which he appeared on

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

the Rita by Lillybee

I bought a white purse. Okay, it isn’t exactly nursing shoes white, but more accurately, a soft cream color that my kids just happen to call white. It has lovely dove-colored handles, the length of the drop on which is perfect for me and my on-the-go needs.

In three weeks, I may be wondering why I went with such an unforgiving color. It’s only a matter of time before it catches the nip of my ink pen, rubs up against something sticky, or just starts to accumulate a city hue from being carried to and fro in an urban environment.

But I’m going to diligently protect it from such evils because I love it.

I love that it looks just as good with black as it does with my brightly colored dresses and skirts for spring and summer. I love that it works with jeans. I love that it isn’t matchy matchy with my spring and summer shoes, but it also doesn’t clash with them. And most of all, I love that it’s from the Lillybee inaugural Italian handbag line, designed by local shoe goddess Kassie Rempel. That means my purchase not only supports a dear friend, but a woman-owned, DC-based small business.

On the first day I broke it out, I was mainly confined to my desk, but the three times I stepped away from the office, I received compliments on Rita. She makes a fine addition to the Lillybee family, and with any luck, maybe I can talk Kassie into offering it in eggplant for the fall.

must have monday: scarves

I wear scarves in the winter, of course. But I also wear them in the fall, spring and even summer. No time is a bad time for a good scarf.

Is it your pop of color? An alternative to a necklace? A blanket to wrap around yourself in a cold movie theater or an over air conditioned office? Maybe you wear it Grace Kelly style when your friend with a convertible is driving with the top down. Whatever the reason, I can’t have too many.

On a retail therapy shopping spree in San Francisco last month, I bought three. My friend Amy was astonished.

Amy: More scarves?

But all three called to me and all three are already getting good use. The green one with the black stitching on the trim kept me warm(ish) during Katilan’s late night post-reception frolicking in Annapolis after I exchanged my dress for jeans but didn’t have my jacket because it had been hot and humid at departure time for the wedding. The green scarf’s twin in fuchsia was too pretty to pass up. The ivory and black zebra print has become my new go-to neutral, replacing the much worn and loved ivory Love Quotes scarf that was a 40th birthday present from Kassie. I have already worn all three of these scarves repeatedly. They join a legion of many scarves slung over a hook on the back of my closet door, waiting to be the one I grab as I dash out the door.

You don’t need to invest a lot of money on a scarf. In fact, one of my favorite ones in the rotation right now I snagged at Banana Republic for $7.00. The cost per wear on a scarf over its lifetime will, if you wear them like I do, be negligible. And the best part is, once a scarf has reached a stage where its wear and tear is too evident to be an appropriate wardrobe component any longer, they make great belts for little boys who like to secure toy swords tightly around their waists. Alternatively, they make great restraints for grown-up play.

But frankly, neckties work better for both.

the day after

Kaitlan is married. The bride was beautiful; the ceremony, heartfelt. Her groom was not highly intoxicated, as was the groom from the 2:00 ceremony, whom we all witnessed make a fool of himself and his bride as they proceeded through the Arch of Sabers while we waited patiently (albeit awkwardly) to enter the Naval Academy Chapel.

They exchanged vows. They kissed. They walked elegantly through the aforementioned arch. And as the afternoon and evening proceeded, the clouds held their rain, and the wine flowed.

I wore the navy last-minute-purchase dress, which seems anti-climactic to write about now. It had, as my friend Sheila described it, a Judy Jetson neckline. It was fitted and sleeveless with this fantastic zipper up the front. And most importantly, I felt amazing in it.

But what fueled me the most (aside from the cosmos and the wine and the champagne and the wine and the beer and the champagne) was being approached by the mother of one of the bridesmaids and being asked when I’m going to write a book. There’s nothing like hearing that someone you don’t know enjoys your writing to make you want to write more. I need those two weeks of solitude to get a jump-start on said book, and I came back from Annapolis determined to find that time.

As Kaitlan and Adam begin this next chapter of their lives together, I will be inspired by new beginnings. I’ll review my 2012 goal board and keep the promises I made to myself and others.

And that is my solemn vow.

Month: May 2012