Showing posts with label I believe.... Show all posts
Showing posts with label I believe.... Show all posts

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Best (As I Know Them)

Since I haven't been buying many things lately, I've really started to appreciate the good purchases that I made back when I was rolling in dough and was not a student, living on leftovers and "borrowed" shelter magazines.

So here is the beginning of some of the best things I have ever had the pleasure of owning.

The Longchamp "Le Pliage Large" tote bag. I lived out of it for three months day in and day out and I'm still not sick of it. There's a reason that it's on the arm of every chic Parisian! It is a timeless bag. I've used it as a purse and and as an overnight bag and the quality can't be beat. I'm also waiting for the opportunity when folding it up and snapping it in a cute little bundle comes in handy, but mysteriously, it always seems to be full...

The Clarisonic. Looks like a vibrator, but cleans like a champ. I had wanted this little buddy for a good six months before I got it and it's lived up to the reputation. Clean face and according to my friend's mom, less wrinkles. It's like using a sonicare on your face and it feels FANTASTIC.

LuluLemon "Run: Tempo Crop" pants. With no picture available online, it's hard to convey just how amazing these are. I've never (I mean NEVER) felt comfortable wearing tight, clingy pants to the gym, but what I will say about these is that they actually suck you in. The tag boasts that the fabric is made to support muscles and joints while running, but what it actually does is lift the ass and hold all the squishy bits in. They're amazing. Seriously. I wouldn't go out in public if they weren't.

After I received the worst haircut known to man in April, the godsend who fixed it sprayed only this one product on my hair and it was amazing. All of a sudden, my hair stays straight if I flat iron it, doesn't frizz up if I air dry and it smells awesome. It might only be available locally, but it's from Seven, a salon in Seattle that I'm sure ships.

The hardest working little ballet flat. I took a similar pair to Europe and walked for days straight in Paris in them. The black is on my sale list at J.Crew, because I never pay full price there -- everything goes on sale eventually. Another reason I look like a walking catalog.

My Timbuk2 messenger bag. It's been with me for years of college, years of work, and now grad school and it's still going strong. Holds a laptop and my odds and ends and goes with anything, as long as you don't mind looking a little "dot com." Sure you wouldn't catch a Hepburn with it, but if they needed to carry a laptop, a lunch, school books and a change of clothes, they might consider it.

Bulgari 8008B's. The most glamorous pair of sunglasses - large and in charge with Swarovski crystals on the sides. Needless to say, I don't wear them boating, but I love them year after year.

I could have DIED when Nordstrom's put a similar Michael Kors watch on the Anniversary Sale (jerks), but I'll just take pleasure in knowing that my big gold watch elicited size envy from my old male co-workers in meetings and that it feels powerful on my girly wrist. I love the juxtaposition of a big gold watch with a feminine top. And if, occasionally, I am asked if I'm about to retire to Barbados, so be it.

And lastly, the Cole Haan "Fiona" boot. I ended up with two pairs last fall. It started with finally finding "The Boot." You know, the boot that we spend multiple falls looking for, one that fits our calves, zips (rather than uses that cheap stretch that never stays up), doesn't give us blisters, and makes us feel just the right amount of tall? Well, behold. It was just the black at first, until I met this little number. Brown/bronze snakeskin. They are a sight to see and kick so much ass. Wearing them to work over jeans made my cashmere sweaters feel more Angelina Jolie, less Ina Garten and with skirts and tights, come on.

So there might not be rain drops on roses and dresses made from curtains, but these are just a few of my favorite things, and if you have the means, I highly recommend them. They are so choice.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

I Believe in Breakfast

I was the bad kid in class who wouldn't put my hand over my heart during the pledge of allegiance. I still am for the most part, but what I will do is pledge my allegiance to breakfast. I am a breakfast person -- I think it's the most rewarding meal and since I'm usually cranky and starving in the morning, it's made even better if it's purchased.

The perfect places for the perfect breakfast:

Zoka: The best place for a power breakfast. Sometimes there is the conflict of wanting breakfast and coffee out, but needing to do it fast. This one is close by to me and you can get a pot of tea and a mini bacon and swiss quiche while getting the quick & dirty from the friend you dragged with you.

Tilth: My favorite place for the brunch and booze.* It holds a special place in my heart because it's home to some of my favorite meals with friends, but emotions aside, the food is kickass. The bloody mary's aren't just filled with boozy goodness, it's boozy goodness made with heirloom tomatoes. And after I fill up on cocktails, I usually get the biscuits and chicken gravy (did you just hear my heart stop?), but it's so freakin' good I don't care. This is a place where you linger because it's so damn good and the company you keep promotes it.

Cafe Presse: Le Pichet in the morning. Oh so French, oh so Capitol Hill.

And finally, Bagel Oasis: The "hung-over/I'm too much of a piece of shit to cook breakfast" breakfast. I love their bagel, egg and sausage sammy with an over-priced Naked Juice. Every time I'm there I'm surprised that the health department hasn't filed some grievance against them, but I'm usually in a state of hunger-induced delirium so I don't care. And even better, the shabby Northwest-y appearance of the patrons and staff make me feel like I'm really not looking so shitty after all, despite the haphazard compilation of clothing that usually accompanies visits to the O.

* Note: It aint brunch if it aint boozey