Monday, November 30, 2009

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Train Station

I absolutely love taking the train, which was what I did to get to Long Island this Thanksgiving.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Fly Me to the Moon


So I happened upon a Vuitton "Climate Project" ad with Sally Ride, the first American woman in space; next to her was Buzz Aldrin and Jim Lovelle.

I wish I was Sally Ride.


I used to dream about being in a spaceship and going to the moon --- anywhere but where I was. It really is another world out there. When I'm in Manhattan, I actually rarely see the moon because the buildings just tower over it. Now that it gets dark so fast here, I do have the opportunity of catching a wonderful view of it from the studio window in Brooklyn. What would have happened if I had never took the fashion path and became a NASA astronaut? Would I have thought, "Being an astronaut sucks! I should have done something like fashion!" That's the magic of dreaming though...you always want to just kick off your stilettos, throw on the explorer uniform of shoelaced boots, knee-high wool socks, a hunter's jacket, and goggles (that's the quintessential explorer signia) and run away from whatever is going on with your life at the moment.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Fishtails


As an assistant patternmaker, I have the capacity to enjoy beautiful things but rarely have the opportunity to wear them. When you're draping, sewing, and drafting, it is near impossible to stretch, bend, kneel, and climb in that beautiful vintage YSL jacket of mine, that Nina Ricci dress in my closet, or in my mom's beaded Holt Renfrew jacket.

Obviously, my vanities call me to settle for something else pretty, like this slick gunmetal fishtail bangle that gets me quite a few compliments from strangers and friends alike. Not only that, I get to look at it all day when I'm drafting skirt patterns after jacket patterns after dress patterns. The relatively flat construction of the bracelet also makes it super comfortable to rest my wrists on the table when my hands get tired. What won't tire are my eyes since I will be oogling over it all day.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

All Hallows' Eve. street blogging.




(I posted my blog link on her "Facebook" wall!)






It was a rainy, messy, wet Halloween here in New York. But fun is still fun when you're dressed up, festive and ready to celebrate.

Girl of Birthday


Bonjour! Allo! Ni Hao. I just turned one year older on Friday.

I don't know about you, but I like to think that my birthday was every day. Okay, so maybe not everyday Angelique wants to draw a picture of me, not every night Mackenzie wants to go out to Arlos & Esme at midnight after a long day at work, and my best friends back home aren't going to send me embarrassing childish birthday cards every week. I really shouldn't be eating sinfully delicious cupcakes with orange icing from Jocelyn and Kandace every supper. Anyways, I digress.

What I essentially mean is, girlofbirthday is essentially me trying to design my own life so that I am doing it for me. For me, when I design every aspect of my life, I don't see it as wearing the hottest new bag, buying the latest printed t-shirt, or investing in something as ugly as that Honda Element car. A wonderfully designed life is about choosing elements that enhance your everyday and function in a stylish way that is aesthetically pleasing so that I feel like I'm living in my own, say, Jean-Luc Godard film. So you should celebrate today like it's your birthday too! I'll be dancing in your honor.

*Illustration credits: Angelique

Oh, Genevieve!


My friend Genevieve just designed a gorgeous new bag for her Myrtle & Pearls line called Prince Louis! Makes me dream of those days when Native Princesses would carry around beautiful leather drums across their shoulder and trek through desert forests. You probably remember Genevieve in one of my previous blog posts, and she's added her signature fluttery feathers to her leather charm. The movement's such a great contrast to the duffle structure. For Genevieve's blog, click.