DID YOU GET YOUR VOTE ON?

         

        Voting. It’s today’s prevailing and broadcasted subject. After the heated 2012 campaigns, after Obama’s rebuffs to Romney’s subtle (and at times not subtle) accusations and vice versa—the moment of truth is inching closer and closer.

        I must admit that I’m not politically savvy. When my brainy friends exchange befuddling political jargon, opinions, policies, and historical events, I simply offer a raised eyebrow and a blushed cheek. I wish I could fervently debate opposing sides and sound all politically astute and what not…but I voted! Isn’t that what matters the most in the end?

        I also encountered my 12th grade Political Science teacher today strolling along a main street in Brooklyn. I saw her for the first time in 5 years…you know, on a day when Political Science is just a tad more relevant to me (coincidence?) She was my teacher during the 2008 elections. I vividly remember her stating that she wanted Romney to be the Republican candidate because he’s “the most handsome.” I loved that teacher, mind you.

         Ultimately, in spite of the rising tension between Democrats and Republicans and extreme analysis of who’s more equipped to govern this country, we are mere puppets in the Hands of the Chief President (a.k.a. G-d). We can only pray that the victor of this campaign significantly bolster our economy (oh G-d, please have mercy on the unemployed!), advance education, ensure that firefighters and policemen receive equal salary to A-list celebrities, and maintain the morality and values that are integral to many of us. MAY THE BEST MAN WIN.

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St-EYE-lista Jenna Lyons

 

St-EYE-lista

        Welcome to the first part of November's St-EYE-lista. Remember that column? We've already featured the style renegade Alexa Chung and the "Modest Muse" Olivia Palermo. Who are we shedding the limelight on this month you ask? The inimitable Ms. Jenna Lyons, Creative Director of J. Crew. If you're like me and you tend to pore over J. Crew catalogues like they're your GED practice booklet, then you simply must read about the leading lady who works the backstage and forefront of this iconic brand.

 

 

        I can assure you that Jenna Lyons dwells on my fashion pedestal. Her tall frame is lounged across her gold throne. She sits there with her impeccable denim J. Crew jacket tucked into her silky, fuchsia evening skirt. Her eyes are framed with the ubiquitous hipster glasses and her feet are graced with patent ebony stilettos. Perhaps there is a glass of sparkling water in her hand. Or is that a martini? I can’t tell. Either way, this portrayal evokes eclectic elegance and endearing whimsy in my mind.

 

An End to This Horrific Week, Parshat Veyeira, and Children

 

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         The East Coast is still reeling from Hurricane Sandy. Areas in NY such as the Rockaways and Staten Island, as well as towns in New Jersey, are straining to salvage whatever they can from their flooded homes. Their power is still weakly wavering, they are waiting an hour for a pump of gas, and their grocery markets can’t even supply basic items such as milk or flashlights (being that they’re all sold out). As we’ve mentioned in a previous post, our hearts and thoughts are with those who have suffered terribly as a result of this natural disaster.

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         It seems as though the earth itself is sagging from the weight of her inhabitants’ financial, personal, and emotional turbulence and is reacting by “letting off steam”  or “blowing a fuse” (literally and metaphorically). Obviously, Hurricane Sandy’s devastation is what mainly occupies NY and its citizens. It occupies my mind as well. Yet, in midst of all this chaos and calamity, I can’t help but think about another NY tragedy that occurred merely a week ago. I’m referring to the unspeakable event that occurred in Manhattan involving a nanny, two young children, and an unsuspecting mother returning home from work. I don’t want to flicker a smile off your face and replace it with a grimace or a frown, but I don’t feel it’s respectful to proceed forth in my blog without giving mention to this horrific action either. Our hearts are still aching for the father and mother who have to endure this immeasurable pain.

 

Ms. Duma and Her Coats

 

           November 1^st:  The weather slowly slips from a teasing nip of wind (or ironically not so teasing--Holler to Hurricane Sandy) to hints of winter frigidity. In other words, our fall jackets will soon be replaced by winter coats. Like journalist Amanda Fortini, I too once believed that winter coats were “the sartorial equivalent of a pie crust: an inferior exterior ruining the whole darn thing.” Your precisely coordinated outfit, your sleek pencil skirt, and your ironic sweater are all captives under the prison you call a coat. The question remains: How can you not bear a slight grievance against your winter shield?

           The answer is: Get motivated to no, not wear, but flaunt your winter topper like Russia’s ex-Harper’s Bazaar editor (currently freelance writer) Miroslava Duma. Miroslava Duma’s experimental and show-stopping personal style will be featured in an upcoming “St-EYE-lista: The Editor’s Version” column (which begins in January). Until then—let’s focus on Duma’s ability to work a winter coat like nobody’s business. Her coat collection consists of vivid color, intricate pattern, and high-end designer labels—you know, the kind of coats a university student or freshly employed young woman would surely have in her wardrobe (insert stifled snort or roll of the eyes right here).

 

 

  Autumnal Joys

Hurricane Sandy's devastation has been just that: devastating. That wolfish wind

 has wreaked havoc on countless homes and properties. Most unfortunately, there

 were several people who perished as a result of this monstrous storm (heavy sigh).  

Our thoughts are with those who have been severely affected by this disaster.

 

Yet, amidst all the suffering and destruction, Ms. Sandy's dreaded arrival did bear one

positive  perk. She reminded us to be appreciative of not only toaster ovens, Subway lines, nightstand lights, text messaging, and daily coffee runs, but also of the glorious outdoors.

 

 

There are moments when I catch myself shrugging off  the gift of mellow weather and instead dwell on my various troubles. There will always be some kind of petty excuse to not indulge in a perfectly balmy day. The whiny voice in one's mind will always grumble that it's too sunny, too chilly, too far, too tiring, too time-consuming to explore the adventures of Mother Nature. What then reminds me to pause and soak up her magnificent bounty?

 

When she turns towards me with a chilling glare and the sound of fury. That's when I'm like "okay, Nature. Take a whiff of lavender and relax! I won't be inappreciative anymore. I promise."
 

 

Below are several autumnal activities to revel in once Ms. Sandy packs her purse, salutes the town with a devilish wink, and whisks her way back to heaven (or hell).

Basking in these outdoor activities will remind one that, in reality, Nature is sweetly sensuous, emotionally pacifying, and just plain awesome.

Prelude to the post: Dear East Coasters, wishing you and your loved ones plenty of safety and sanity over the next few Sandy days. (Alliteration much? Try saying that sentence ten times fast). Let's hope this "Perfect Storm" is more hype than harm. Seriously...I'm praying we don't lose power. We hope you enjoy the following post.

  Get Your Geek On!

        

 

         Autumn, like a romantic lover, is a soothing companion: There is hot chocolate to quietly console your throat, a gentle wind to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, cashmere to caress the smoothness of your skin, and leaves to satisfyingly crunch under your boots. Yet, there is another characteristic that I attribute to fall, and that is the annual resurgence of "Geek Chic." The mesmerizing color of trees and the rejuvenation that lingers in the crisp air symbolizes the fresh start of the academic year. Being that I recently graduated college and am no longer in school (at least for now), I become nostalgic when I see students striding to the library, clutching their textbooks and lattes, a twinkle of determined resolve in their eyes... Trust me; I am far from envious of their burdensome jumble of exams, reports, and presentations. I just simply miss collegiate ensembles, studious looks, and all forms of Geek Chic.

 

 

         Being that I usually ascribe deeper, "psychological" reasons to my Personal Style, I must mention why I am continually drawn to the classic schoolgirl fashion. Although I despised the itchy mid-length uniform skirt and prison-striped button-up that I wore everyday in elementary and high school, I’ve developed a peculiar attachment towards them. How can I not? I’ve worn that desperately dull outfit for the majority of life--so whether I like it or not, schoolgirl panache is now and forevermore “my thing.”

 

 

The Word We Love to Hate and Why We  Shouldn’t Hate it

Failure. What a word. The sound of it can deliver a quiver along a student’s spine, a quickening of heartbeat in the newly employed, and a vision of doom in the dreamer’s mind. We tiptoe delicately around Sir Failure, lest the hem of our pants brush the accursed cloak of this particular devil. We whisper nervously around him as well. Our words are soft yet jagged. We don’t want him to stalk and swallow us—because if he does, then we will be forced to crawl into the belly of humiliation and despair.

Like all other humans, I occasionally become lunch for Sir Failure. Once I am in his belly, I kick and scream and then fall into an exhausted heap of self-pity. Sir Failure chuckles heartily at my behavior. He likes that I finally surrendered to his exploits.

 

Sir Failure?

I am mentioning this, because it’s usually after the respite of the Chagim when our lives begin to settle, and Sir Failure materializes again. His eyes are constantly roaming the landscape for a daily feast. The New Year’s novel situations (a sweat-inducing college class, a demanding new job, or a budding yet fragile relationship) can often trigger thoughts of potential failure: What if Astro-Physics butchers my GPA? What if my employer pulls a fast Donald Trump on me and declares “You’re fired!” with a pointed finger and a blazing stare? What if I spill Coke on my date’s shirt, inadvertently insult his mother’s cooking, and then snort when I laugh?