In my shoes
My boyfriend offered to pay for a pair of Kate Spade ballet shoes for me. In true Park-Avenue-meets-Cher fashion, I chose the pair that’s PINK and SUEDE. These overtly happy shoes stay in the box, perfectly wrapped in their 100% cotton dust bags, and only go out when I need pick-me-uppers (Mondays and Fridays, usually). They’re my most treasured possession.
I am becoming chic. Let me phrase this more accurately. I am not just trying to become more stylish – I HAVE BECOME more stylish. This state of elegance is an actuality; it’s not just in my head.
I am still not fashionable, though. I still don’t buy the latest-“it”-things, and during lazy days, I still insist on using my dirty Lacoste sneeks with my jogging pants to work. But because I am now stylish, there’s an apparent difference. Even during those sluggish, unfashionable days, I wear a nice watch or diamond studs. My hair would be moussed away from my face, ala Grace Kelly. Somehow, overnight, I stopped looking like the college girl who has no money for lunch. I just woke up one day looking like a laid-back woman of leisure – the kind who wears cashmere tracksuits, dines in nice restaurants, buys art.
I don’t mean for this to happen -- it just does. For about 4 out of 7 days in a week, my stylishness shows. Mid-length shorts with Tods flats and Marc Jacobs top. Brown Prada driving shoes with a shirt that actually matches. Skinny bottom with a breezy Balenciaga tunic. Name the stylish ensemble, and I probably have it.
I owe my newfound stylishness to two things – my recent closet audit, and Gretchen Barretto. I threw out shirts that screamed COLLEGE KID and did a complete inventory of the ‘nicer’ things I own. When in doubt, I asked: Would Gretchen wear this?
After the audit, I realized that I actually have quite a few of those nice-classic-pricier clothes and accessories that fall under that "lazy but tasteful" category. I have forgotten about most of them because they’re stashed in the back of the closet. Hello, vintage Norma Kamali jacket. We meet again.
And that was how I became stylish overnight.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t get me wrong – I’m still a one-minute dresser. I still throw on the first thing I see. BUT because I rid my closet of ugly things, the first things I see now are actually NICE clothes. Ergo, whatever I throw on IS stylish.
Let’s move on.
F*ck you, Wagyu
Like any starved yuppie who deserves a nice meal every now and then, I've been dreaming of the elusive Wagyu steak since the day I learned to balance my checkbook. To reward myself after a week of hard work, I went to a New-York-joint-wannabe resto (name withheld). They serve Wagyu steak for the hefty price of P4,000+.
I nearly fainted. This is how much bottom sirloin of a fat Japanese cow costs? Invested in mutual funds at 15% PA, the money I am paying for this piece of acetabulofemoral joint would be enough to buy me a whole cow upon retirement.
Anyway, I went ahead and ordered it, and just prayed I would get my money’s worth.
Sure, it melts in the mouth like butter.
Sure, it tastes wonderfully different, like a mongrel cow.
Sure, it smells wonderful.
But I doubt that I’m forking over that much money for a steak again.
You’re overrated, Wagyu.
I would go back for the chocolate-mint dessert, though.
The week ahead
There’s so much I have to finish. We’re launching four more websites, taking care of client websites, supplying new services for an old client who came back from the dead. On top of that, I have to manage the company’s cash flow, review projections, manage my own investments, and even prepare a condominium unit we own for renting out. Oh, and I’m supposed to buy a notebook and a calculator for that three-day class I’m taking – accounting for non-accountants. That should be a shocker.
I’m also trying to get a personal project off the ground. Remember, I talked about launching a finance website for yuppie Filipinos? Well I haven’t gotten around to actually planning it. I have a domain name and all, but no outline, no content, no time to do anything else.
Now would be a good time to look at my happy shoes.
I am becoming chic. Let me phrase this more accurately. I am not just trying to become more stylish – I HAVE BECOME more stylish. This state of elegance is an actuality; it’s not just in my head.
I am still not fashionable, though. I still don’t buy the latest-“it”-things, and during lazy days, I still insist on using my dirty Lacoste sneeks with my jogging pants to work. But because I am now stylish, there’s an apparent difference. Even during those sluggish, unfashionable days, I wear a nice watch or diamond studs. My hair would be moussed away from my face, ala Grace Kelly. Somehow, overnight, I stopped looking like the college girl who has no money for lunch. I just woke up one day looking like a laid-back woman of leisure – the kind who wears cashmere tracksuits, dines in nice restaurants, buys art.
I don’t mean for this to happen -- it just does. For about 4 out of 7 days in a week, my stylishness shows. Mid-length shorts with Tods flats and Marc Jacobs top. Brown Prada driving shoes with a shirt that actually matches. Skinny bottom with a breezy Balenciaga tunic. Name the stylish ensemble, and I probably have it.
I owe my newfound stylishness to two things – my recent closet audit, and Gretchen Barretto. I threw out shirts that screamed COLLEGE KID and did a complete inventory of the ‘nicer’ things I own. When in doubt, I asked: Would Gretchen wear this?
After the audit, I realized that I actually have quite a few of those nice-classic-pricier clothes and accessories that fall under that "lazy but tasteful" category. I have forgotten about most of them because they’re stashed in the back of the closet. Hello, vintage Norma Kamali jacket. We meet again.
And that was how I became stylish overnight.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t get me wrong – I’m still a one-minute dresser. I still throw on the first thing I see. BUT because I rid my closet of ugly things, the first things I see now are actually NICE clothes. Ergo, whatever I throw on IS stylish.
Let’s move on.
F*ck you, Wagyu
Like any starved yuppie who deserves a nice meal every now and then, I've been dreaming of the elusive Wagyu steak since the day I learned to balance my checkbook. To reward myself after a week of hard work, I went to a New-York-joint-wannabe resto (name withheld). They serve Wagyu steak for the hefty price of P4,000+.
I nearly fainted. This is how much bottom sirloin of a fat Japanese cow costs? Invested in mutual funds at 15% PA, the money I am paying for this piece of acetabulofemoral joint would be enough to buy me a whole cow upon retirement.
Anyway, I went ahead and ordered it, and just prayed I would get my money’s worth.
Sure, it melts in the mouth like butter.
Sure, it tastes wonderfully different, like a mongrel cow.
Sure, it smells wonderful.
But I doubt that I’m forking over that much money for a steak again.
You’re overrated, Wagyu.
I would go back for the chocolate-mint dessert, though.
The week ahead
There’s so much I have to finish. We’re launching four more websites, taking care of client websites, supplying new services for an old client who came back from the dead. On top of that, I have to manage the company’s cash flow, review projections, manage my own investments, and even prepare a condominium unit we own for renting out. Oh, and I’m supposed to buy a notebook and a calculator for that three-day class I’m taking – accounting for non-accountants. That should be a shocker.
I’m also trying to get a personal project off the ground. Remember, I talked about launching a finance website for yuppie Filipinos? Well I haven’t gotten around to actually planning it. I have a domain name and all, but no outline, no content, no time to do anything else.
Now would be a good time to look at my happy shoes.
posted by Ingrid C. at 1:48 PM
4 Comments:
you've always been stylish, you just didn't have the time to look the way your inner chic does on the outside. i love how you can get away with bright, bright colors because of your european features and fair skin. and it kills me that you can look "london" in this godforsaken country.
ok. i now miss you. coffee soon? and lemme see those shoes.
shoes. style. dress. what can i say? for me, as long as your comfortable and happy with what you wear, go for it. and this is not a problem for ingrid because she's always dressed up the way she wants, and boy, doesn't she always look expensive? :)
illyria> ah, time. the luxury i don't have (and probably never will). true women of leisure spend hours drinking tea and browsing through private shopping catalogs. i gulp my tea in 5 minutes and go to target.com. by the way, stop mocking my skin, you racist.
bismuth> well, barry and i were going to have coffee with you yesterday, but alas, you were in the mountains.
barry> comfort is number one, of course. that explain why i only own comfy flats, and why i pay good money for that them. my post seems shallow now that i am re-reading it. when i was writing it it sounded smart, though. nway, i just don't want to look like the chauffeur of my own mercedes.
so, kape na?
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