Best Celebrity Interview Ever!

Please read this Elle article in its entirety and do so immediately. Matthew McConaughey talks about horizontal vaginas, making love to Barbara Walters, "getting tribal" on his girlfriend's birth and wrestling grizzly bears with his bare hands. It's freaking genius.

"It Looks Like Someone Peed on Your Eyes"

I had a great talk with one of my favorite makeup artists Troy Surratt today, and when I asked him how he feels about the current yellow eyeshadow madness he goes: "While it's important to be trend aware—it keeps you hip and current—don't try every trend that comes down the runway." So tactful! He's all class that one. The actual post is here on Allure.

Am I the Only Chick in NY Who's Disappointed by Topshop?

After reading many a swooning blog post about how AMAZING the new Topshop store is, I finally decided to brave the crowds and go scope it out for myself. It's not my first time at the rodeo--I've been to TS many times whilst in London--but obviously, wanted to visit on my own turf. Luckily, at 2:35 pm on a Wednesday, there was no one in line to get in, which seemed promising. The store, however, was certainly packed with teensy fashionistas and their unfortunate male friends maniacally racing to and from frock after jacket, and that made it a less than enjoyable shopping experience. That fact aside, my disdain actually stems from the fact that I truly didn't see anything that deviated far from your average H&M. The Kate Moss collection has some cute moments, but you'll have to pay: One of the strongest pieces (in my opinion) is the limited-edition sequined "Flame" dress which retails a cool $250. The famed shoe department was vast, but the majority of the hooker-ish vinyl shoes reminded me of the offerings you'd see in a typical Greenwich Village sex shop. (Here is an example.) Still, some of the Preen stuff was lovely, so perhaps I'll give it another chance in a few weeks when all the hullabaloo has died down a bit. Meh, I guess I'll be smelling you and your limey wares later Topshop.

On a related note, this new British "gastropub" just opened on my block. Because you know, the food in England rules! (so bitchy today i know)

UPDATE: 8:32 pm My "spies" (okay, editor Mary Clarke) tell me that style legend Lynn Yaeger was shopping there at the same exact time yesterday. And she did not purchase anything either. SO.

Who is the Real Steven Meisel? (Hint: Watch the Video)

Perhaps you've read Jonathan Van Meter's Vogue profile of more powerful than god photog Steven Meisel. (For the uninitiated, if Meisel simply casts a girl in one of his fashion stories, she like, instantly skyrockets and gets the "super" tag affixed to her "model" title asap.) People in the industry routinely say things like, "Have you seen Meisel's new girl? She's amazing." And his breadth is stunning: He may be the man behind classic beauties Naomi, Linda, Amber Valetta and Christy Turlington, but he can also traced to more modern muses like Jessica Stam, Coco Rocha and Agyness Deyn.

The profile is beyond fascinating because Meisel is a notorious recluse, and declined to meet Van Meter at all. (Can you imagine him saying, "Sorry Anna, we do it on my terms or not at all." SNAP.) But his phone demeanor is described as "...brusque and impatient—sort of perpetually annoyed with the idea of doing an interview at all." The writer gets his revenge by dangling the titillating bit that Meisel's reticence may stem from personal insecurities regarding his encroaching crow's feet and rumored weight gain, which in my opinion, is perhaps a sort of poetic justice when it comes to a man so responsible for the fashion world's voracious appetite for newer, younger, thinner. Still, the image of Meisel as stony, simmering agoraphobic gets shattered in this amazing 80's video filled with guyliner, big hair, 17-year old Paulina Porizkova, a certain "Swedish smorgasbord" and Meisel as insane style cheerleader. Watch, it's CRAZY.

How to Pronounce Designers' Names

It's no secret that the fashion crowd is judgey, judgey (maybe only the Victorians were as condemning). Mispronouncing an important designer's name is tantamount to wearing denim bell-bottoms at the height of the skinny jean phase, if you care. Because I worked at a magazine and went to runway shows and stuff, I received on-the-job training when it comes to a familiarity and ability to correctly pronounce designers' names. But since that's not the case for most, unless you speak French and Italian with aplomb, how are you supposed to avoid at least one Nomi in "Showgirls" type of situation (remember when she mispronounced "Versace"? Ouch.) While researching a story recently I came across the following Wall Street Journal resource: Instead of simply spelling the names phonetically, they actually enlisted foreigners to properly pronounce the names of the major players. Hey, could come in handy next time you want some salesperson to pull that Ermenegildo Zegna out of the shop window.

Style Rocks: Ministry-"I Wanted to Tell Her"

This rules so hard:

How to Wear Thigh High Boots

BACKGROUND: Some of you may recall that I spied with my little eye this insane pair of slouchy Zucca boots awhile back, and I LOVE them because they certainly make a statement--so much so that a zillion designers fully just ripped them off. Still, I was unsure about how they would translate off the runway. Um, also, they cost $650 at La Garconne, cough, and the saleslady there said that she wouldn't let me return them since they were final sale, (down from $1620). Now, I get what clearance means and stuff, but these have Japanese sizing which is hard to compare to the U.S. version, and frankly, thigh-high boots are a damn tricky trend and I wanted to make sure these weren't monstrous in real life. I even told her that if she would let me exchange them should there be a problem, I would take store credit, but again, no go. So now I am kind of over La Garconne. I bite my thumb at you.

What followed was an embarrassing amount of time spent locating another retailer in the States, since like, no one carries them, which is surprising because they design really interesting stuff. But! Finally! Success! I found them for sale at cute Hollywood boutique Creatures of Comfort for a mere $415 (okay that's not cheap but big buttery, imported leather boots aren't ever cheap, plus keep in mind I was having a moment), and even though they were final sale the chick there was TOTALLY understanding and said I could return them if they didn't work out. La Garconne, 0, Creatures of Comfort 1.

Anyway, they came in the mail and they're totally lovely, but again, thigh-high boots are not easy to pull off. Here's why these work so well: They're a dark, chocolate brown, so they effortlessly go with black, brown, white and everything in between. They're definitely high, but not high-heeled, which is key to avoiding the Pretty Woman hooker look syndrome that is flourishing right now. So unfortunate. (For the record, they do have more lift than a flat, which is nice.) Lastly, they're not only comfortable, they're really versatile: You can scrunch them way down on your calf in case you're feeling kind of demure about the audacity of the thigh.

Also, proportion is key. Even Kate Moss manages to look a bit squat in her thigh-highs every now and then. What you need to avoid is chopping yourself into too many sections. Pair with a simple, short-ish, diaphanous dress or a roomy tee and skinny jeans. To balance the largesse of the boots, a chunky cardigan or similar layering does the trick. A good scarf helps, too. My only trubs at this point is wearing them out before next fall, when the trend is predicted to be huge. Then again, obviously I feel all smug and shit for being on top of this before every last mall teen has shelled out their babysitting money on inappropriate thigh-baring footwear. (Prepare yourselves!) Lastly, I know these are stupid expensive during these tough times. If anyone's interested, I'll totally start researching a more affordable knock-off. I just don't think there is one, YET. Stay tuned...

Are You Feeling the Pearl Trend?

I do love a pearl necklace (heh, heh), but the look is so J. Crew overdone now, no?

No offense, Mrs. Obama, you know I love what you do.

But what I'm really feeling are these chunky pearl drop earrings at Brian Reyes, and not just because I've been rocking a similar pair all winter. I love how these manage to look really edgy with black, but they're so fabulous and classy at the same time. I would recommend my personal ones but they're out of stock, so in the interest of being servicey and stuff, I just found this sick set at Lord & Taylor for $44.99 (down from $90.00) and they include kind of outrageous cubic zirconias which would look truly awesome with a thin, battered black leather jacket. I mean it.

It's Official: I'm Back in the City

Some of you may of noticed I've been away for awhile (um, probably no one did, but anyhoo), and it's because I've been absolutely bowled over by the moving process. I've spent the past few weeks making loads of preparations, then Shya and I loaded Violet in the car and made the arduous cross-country journey back to New York. On the way we stopped at an amazing Japanese spa in the snow-dipped mountains of Santa Fe, got re-routed due to nasty weather in Texas, climbed through the gorgeous Rockies, spent a strange night at a grungy Motel Six in Nebraska, saw lovely friends in Chicago and Indiana, finally made it to the city and found our subletter had literally trashed our apartment.

Sigh.

It was like Grey Gardens all up in this piece.

After an expensive, crime-scene level cleanup job, we made our way to our storage unit in Rhode Island, U-Hauled it back, and at the moment I'm writing from our wildly disorganized, box-laden (but clean!) Lower East Side digs. I'm not gonna lie. This move has been insanely stressful. But we're slowly, surely getting settled. I've certainly been more Slacker than Style when it comes to updates, but sartorial coverage should resume asap! And if anyone has any fun decorating tips, send 'em my way. Complete overhaul here.

xoxoxoe

P.S. I guess while I was gone the LES became SoHo!? I mean, there's now like, 10 five-star restaurants, an "organic" cleaner, several salons and a yoga studio on my street. Bananas!

P.P.S. If anyone wants to buy a vintage VW Cabrio convertible and/or knows of a cheap and fabulous parking garage located in the tri-state area, let me know. It sucks to have a car in Manhattan. We have to move the damn thing every five minutes. Seriously. Sucking.