Thursday, December 4, 2008

You Must Have Been A Beautiful Betsey


Heavens to Betsey! How does one of the most colorful characters in fashion celebrate 30 years of kick ass little bo peep gone rocker chick? With a string of parties of course! These past few weeks have seen Betsey Johnson toasted in Women’s Wear Daily, a high octane and high society cocktail soiree, and a series of mini celebrations at local Betsey stores.

Last night’s party at the UWS boutique was a cozy affair featuring Pink champange, pink napkins, pink cookies and a healthy dose of fans nabbing the colorful dresses Johnson is famous for. The duplex store was full of adorable summer dresses as well as pieces perfect for fall. The blasting music gave customers a beat to shop to and it seemed to be working because from what I saw, a lot of people were buying.

In a nod towards a more refined fall, the dresses had more black, blues and greens than I’m used to seeing from the Queen of Punk Pink, but I guess even the baddest girls start to grow up once they hit the big 3 - 0.

The Subtle Difference Between Dewey and Dirty


30 "do you have any openings this weekend?" hotel calls, and a quick skim of an
article on east coast party hotspots did nothing to prepare me for the
"Animal House" antics that awaited in Dewey Beach, De.

Dewey, for those unschooled in debauchery of the sort best left to
drunk state school freshmen, is a pothole size town on the east coast
of Delaware. Its year round population is lower than the capacity of
the L train and the main businesses seem to be motels, pizzerias and
bars. In short, this ain't your Gossip Girl's beach town.

A weekend at Dewey starts as soon as the first over worked Capitol
Hill staffer pulls into town. The two main bars ruling the scene are
Bottle and Cork and The Starboard. Lines form early and snake onto the
sidewalk. There is no real police presence and certainly no designer
decked Wass Stevens look-a-like manning the door. Jean skirted girls
and and polo(no relation to Ralph Lauren) shirted guys wait good
humouredly for the early arrivals to vomit, pass out, or in a few
memorable instances, don their birthday suits, and be escorted out by
an old friend or new love interest so they can file in.

There are no bottles to buy or low slung banquettes to gyrate on;
though the vip crowd enters through the kitchen and is asked to
display their cards, Eldridge style. Once in, the starter drink of
choice for many boils down to two options: a Jell-o shot from a
passing waitress or an Irish car bomb downed with great ceremony to
herald the arrival of another lost weekend. From there its on to beer,
cover bands, and meeting as many other visitors as possible.

During my weekend there, I was introduced to people from Boston, Philly,
South Jersey, Maryland, and of course Washington. The points of origin
were varied, but our goal was common: we came to lose our dignity and
return to our pre-full time job, metro card toting
selves.

Around the time a true Manhattanite would be headed out, it's last
call in Dewey and by 1am the bars are cleared and the after hours
pizzerias are full of new couples deciding on whose place to eat the
pie. I had a summer's worth of tan to accumulate in 3 days time so I
made a solo journey back to my hotel, weaving past other revelers to
curl up in my motel bed right next to the city limits sign proclaiming
"Dewey Beach, It's a Way of Life"

Prior to a mid-1990's ban against alcohol on the beach, the sand was
dotted with kegs and bikinis. Now, sunburns are acquired on the decks,
patios, and courtyards of the early to rise bars along Highway One.
Being a Dewey virgin, I foolishly awoke early to secure a prime
location for my towel, only to find the beach occupied solely by
families, life guards and dolphins. The party action takes precedence
over swanning in the sun here. "Suicide Sunday" started at 9am and the Starboard's
deck was packed and the crowd was blitzkrieged by brunch. The hardcore
don't even break to eat, choosing to turn the local crab shack into a
b.y.o.b flip cup extravaganza complete with an ice filled dunk tank
for those who emerged less than victorious. This violation of open
intox laws was informally sponsored by a local Bud Light rep who's
rumored to have "an even sicker ski house" lined up for the winter.
Vermont, prepare your slopes.

Eventually aimless wilding gives way to the main event: Jam. That may
well not be the proper title for Bottle and Cork's afternoon parade of
cover bands, but in Dewey you'd be hard pressed to find someone who
didn't know what you meant and wasn't already on their way. There's a
nominal cover charge and a half hearted id check and then it’s a free
for all of spilled beer, half hour long bathroom lines and whole
hearted sing along fun. The party goes until last man standing, and by
8pm few are. The sun, pizza and copious amounts of cheap booze make
even the most stalwart wino long for the sandy sheets on their sun burnt
cheeks. I was no exception and was snoring into my "GoDewey.com"
beer koozie(carrying ones own koozie at all times being de rigueur for
any self respecting partier on the shore) by 10pm.

While longtime regulars swear by staying an extra night and crossing
the Bay Bridge in time for a 9am work meeting, I was a tenderfoot in
town and so my last day was spent slathering on tanning oil to soak up
a bit more color then meeting new friends for lunch and checking out of a motel with nightly rates lower than a ride on the Jitney.

Swapping overpriced drinks, name dropping and Hermes beach towels for
beer in a can, mosh pits and Old Navy flip flops is a recessionista's
dream. While Dewey doesn't have a Pink Elephant owned satellite
location and the the local liquor store sells shots in plastic bags,
the small town is full of friendly 20 and 30-somethings striving to
make each weekend the wildest yet. It was a great time but once I was
east of the Lincoln tunnel I was grateful to return to my 400 square
foot apartment and meet my friends for wildly expensive drinks at
Rose Bar. Dewey might be a way of life, but I’ll take Manhattan.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Come Sale Away With Me



Martha Stewart and I aren't the only ones doing some spring cleaning. Beauty sites are doing the same and that means one thing....shopping spree!

Victoria's Secret is a reliable source for sales and one of the only places on the web to get high end cosmetics half off. Right now Vincent Longo, Tarte, Freeze 24-7 and lots of other great brands are steals at prices 25-60% off. My favorite find is Tarte Cheek Stain for a mere $9.99, $18 off its retail price.


Bliss Spa is also having a fire sale and the prices are hot hot hot! Favorites are selling for up to 80% off. Swing by and find products I can't live without, such as the Bliss Instant Mattification 10-minute Mask for under $10...$7.60 to be exact. Quite the deal considering the retail price is a wallet stretching $38.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Street Thread


It's not quite spring yet, but I'm just back from Las Vegas and the warm weather, coupled with the arrival of all and sundry resort wear in stores, has me yearning to do some spring cleaning. Not, of course, of my closet or car trunk; instead, I think I'm ready to approach my woefully neglected winter body. A brief laundry list was made...pedicure, exfoliation, bikini wax, etc and must be completed before Spring Break in a scant two weeks but first on the list are my horribly overgrown eyebrows.

I am a former waxing devotee but while in NYC a few summers ago I was introduced to the joys of threading. Threading is a traditional middle eastern hair removal method that relies on thread pulled taunt across areas with hair, then looped around and pulled to remove hairs with more precision than waxing but less time than plucking. From my first encounter with threading I have loved the Bollywood brows most threaders leave you with. The dramatic arches are a perfect frame to my face. However, any shape you desire can be achieved with less redness and irritation than hot wax smeared on and ripped off. This technique can also be used for other parts of the face, body, and even in conjunction with a bikini wax. Besides the amazing shape, the other advantage to this service is its typically low price in larger cities. My favorite New York threading salon on 24th and 5th charges all of $25 to service the entire face. With more and more experts and laymen whispering about a coming recession, prices like that will leave the wallet full for some serious spring shopping.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

THIS is how to hail a taxi...


Nostradamus is dead, so who's watching the predictions? Me. Today during a little beauty binge(it IS Fat Tuesday, I can overindulge if I want to) I found the perfect late winter/early spring nail polish shade. It's bright and fun without being cheerleader peppy, punk neon, or baby pastel. It's the perfect scrambled eggs, sunny kitchen, first Easter with his family, yellow. New York Color's Taxi Yellow Creme ($.99 at drugstores) is so spot on. Milkier than a dandelion, brighter than a post-it, this color looks amazing on the fairly tan to Alek Wek dark. It's not too girly but certainly a welcome break from the Lincoln Park after dark, Russian Navy, Vamp dark trend that seems to have taken over the nails of the hottest girls in town for far too long.

The LBD of Face Lotion


Most high school habits are best forgotten before your five year reunion, but every so often one is worth keeping around. For the prom queen it's the star quarterback who went pro, for the rest of us it's Clinique Dramatically Different Moisturizing Lotion. There isn't a beauty rag in print that hasn't heralded the milky yellow potion as a panacea for what ails you. It claims to be only for the level I and II skin types out there but it has yet to clog a pore or exacerbate a breakout on this oily mug. I monkey around with other brands but I always come crawling back when my skin gets too unruly. It also doesn't hurt that 4.2 ounces for $21.50 is a great beauty counter deal in the La Mer world of $1,000 an ounce skin creams.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

code name: kissable.


As someone with an Angelina sized mouth and Sahara like skin, the need for a lip balm that WORKS is, well, pretty severe. About 2 years ago my struggle to tame the pout came to an end...I found my nirvana. Philosophy Lip Shine's Sephora exclusive shades have been life changing! The scents, the shimmer...the names! I adore Melon Daiquiri and Raspberry Sorbet for year round shine and when winter hits I warm things up with Cinnamon Buns. The formula isn't sticky but it is thick. Despite the color, it really does go on virtually clear and it lasts and is beyond emollient. Check it out at http://www.sephora.com/browse/brand_hierarchy.jhtml;jsessionid=5AYKDUFL3MP33LAUCJ2RXCQ?brandId=3866&categoryId=C106

-sarahanne