The luck of the stylish

Do clothes really bring us good luck? Some athletes have socks they wear for every game and others have that lucky pair of underwear that has never failed a test. I swear that I always play better when I don a certain white tennis skirt. Yet, whether these clothes really bring us luck or not no one will ever know.

On the other hand, can clothes bring us bad luck? A couple days ago my mom wore the same sweater that she wore when I had jaw surgery and, wearing that same blue and brown awfully knit sweater, she ended up having to spend a bit of time in the hospital again. We collectively decided to burn the sweater. Of course it can all be chalked up to a bizarre coincidence, but I certainly do not think that continuing to wear the sweater will do anyone any good.

Somehow, we allow ourselves to attribute bad or good luck to our clothes. After having the best college interview ever, I decided to replicate the same outfit to all other college interviews because, what harm could it do:? I desperately want to let go of my modish superstitions, but something, something that no one can quite seem to put a finger on, keeps us wearing the same pair of socks on game day.

How ugly must it be to be pretty?

The hat I am wearing in this photo is ugly. It may seem awkwardly blunt to say, but I don't don the hat thinking 'what a beautiful accessory this is' or 'this really highlights my hair color.' In the airport a couple of days ago I was reading about how these hats are one of the ugliest trends right now and that they flatter virtually no one. That being said, I like the challenge of pulling one off, even if it is ugly.

Twist and shout

I hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday. Here is a sampling of my outfit for new year's eve. The lady at the organic grocery store in southern California told me I looked like a princess; I was pretty happy about it. Albeit, I was a little disappointed in myself for not wearing any sequins or sparkles or glitter. The bracelet I'm wearing here (which you can barely see in this photo) currently has me under its spell. Goal for 2010: more outfit posts.

The irony of ripped jeans

In middle school I remember begging my mom to buy me a pair of Abercrombie ripped jeans like all the cool high school girls wore. My mother did not understand. The ripped jeans cost more than the normal jeans and she was not about to pay extra for clothing with holes in it. The devastation it caused me was more than I could handle. Therefore, I decided to take matters into my own hands and created ripped jeans myself. I used a razor and some bleach and tried unsuccessfully of course to mimick the Abercrombie pair I had been lusting after for so long.

Needless to say, I was a bit shocked to open a pair of the Joe's Jeans black ripped jean leggings this Christmas. My middle school memories rushed back as I forced the leggings on (it really does require a great deal of work) and I felt exactly how I wanted to feel in middle school: a little rebellious. So I am still not sure how much I actually like the look of ripped jeans, or leggings in this case, but I do know that I do like how they feel.

Bright lights, The City

Today I had the privilege of spending a few mindless hours watching reality television, "The City" to be specific. I was less than impressed by the bitchy behavior and seemingly scripted lives of the characters who use the word 'like' too much. The show should really be renamed "Watch Girls in Pretty Clothes Fight with Eachother". Regardless of the nonexistent plotline, the clothes are indeed fabulous with a capital F. Whitney seems to be the only grounded character who doesn't completely sell herself out for the drama factor of the show. She also has the most covetable wardrobe of the cast.

Older, wiser, crazier

Photo from weheartit.

I have accepted my fate. I know I will probably end up as the cat lady who wears too much lipstick and has fabulous dinner parties. That being said, I am perfectly okay with this. I've never had the lovey-dovey type grandma, the one who bakes you cookies and knits you hats. My grandmothers are independent, spunky women who don't let anyone boss them around. And I like that.

The old woman that sits in his rocker reading the Sunday New York Times on a Wednesday morning cursing the "punk" that made the crossword puzzle especially difficult, I love her. I love her for her sadistic sense of humor and superb wit. I saw the most fabulous old lady at Whole Foods the other day. She must have been at least seventy, and yet there was in her pumpkin orange knitted poncho and grey wedge boots. Growing old shouldn't be something we dread, it should be an excuse to be/dress even crazier and get away with it.

Channeling Amelia

There is something so timeless about a good leather jacket. It's that piece in your closet that can make annual appearances without the groan of fashion savvy friends or the scolding of your significant other for never wearing a different jacket. Albeit, the jacket does look a little more badass if you include a Harley and a large bicep tattoo in the mix, my ultimate goal remains to make the leather jacket look more feminine, a task easier said than done. With trailers beginning to air for the new movie starring Hilary Swank about Amelia Earhart, I find myself newly motivated to buy that perfect leather jacket. The allure of Amelia's tomboy sexiness has inspired countless American women to sport the leather jacket and try their hand at flying, and while the former remains the easier of the two it will the be the option I opt for. Finding a leather jacket could be compared to finding that great pair of black pumps, near impossible. While most leather jackets either engulf the wearer or end up looking a little more Hells Angels than downtown hipster, the ideal jacket doesn’t try too hard. One leather bomber I love, the jacket featured above, is one from the Urban Renewal line by Urban Outfitters. What I like about this particular model is that it has a hood (all that’s missing is a pink motorcycle) and is a little more form fitting than the standard. And this is one of the many jackets out there suitable with a frilly spring dress or your flying lessons. Yet, the moral of the story is not the type or fit of the jacket, what matters is the bold statement one makes. Amelia Earhart may have gotten lost and tragically died on some foreign tropical island, but at least she looked good doing it.

Get this jacket: http://www.urbanoutfitters.com