Mood Shifters

My beautiful people, there's nothing more un-stylish than a sour mood accompanied by a screwface. For you Secret believers out there, you know all it takes is a mood shifter to elevate our spirits. A mood shifter can be anything from a scent that takes us back to happier place, a food that heightens are tastebuds, or a detailed image that puts a smile on our face. For me, it's usually the thought of a late 1980s heavy metal band comprised of drunk basset hounds. But for others, it could be one of the Macho Man's appearance on The Arsenio Hall Show. Below is a list of videos/songs that always work out any bad kink in my mood. If these don't work on you, you may need to see a professional.

1. I'm Ready-Kano: Keep an eye out for Diane and Lumberjack at 1:17.

2. Disco Bambina-Heather Parisi: The song is absurd and her Italian is questionable—and that's rich coming from me and my one pathetic semester of studying the language—but it's earned the right to be on this list.

3. Basset Hound Puppies: If this doesn't erase your screwface, there aren't enough meds in the world to cure you of your ills.

4. A Basset is an Asset: Yes, another basset hound video. How this hasn't penetrated the Billboard Hot 100 is a mystery to me. They ride motorbikes, too (2:17).

5. Rubberband-The Spinners: These guys knew how to perform. Now this is showbiz. Talk about A-game! A powder blue tux with ruffles never looked so good.

6. Jim Gillette's Scream: You don't have to be a metal head to appreciate this man's vocal range.

7. Macho Man on Arsenio Hal: Find out what the difference is between MachoMadness and Hulkamania. It'll change your life.

8. What's Up With You: Michael Jackson and Eddie Murphy: I don't recall this video from its debut in the early 90s. A friend introduced it to me just last year. It's simultaneously disturbing and heart-warming.

9. Children's Palace Commercial: Peter Panda has the same effect on me as the What's Up With You video.

10. Shake It Up Tonight: Aside from the basset hounds, this puts me in the most stellar mood. Do you see young people? You do not need to grind on each other at the club in order to have a good time.

Holiday Sweaters: Public Nuisance

'Tis the season to show truly bad taste in apparel. Whether received or given, Holiday Sweaters rear their ugly turtlenecked heads during the first week of December. Long a sartorial blister, this nuisance of a knit endures.

The Holiday Sweater is an 80s relic that refuses to die. While this is one of my favorite decades fashion-wise, there are certainly some things that are better left in the garment grave: acid wash, ripped denim, hairsprayed bangs, and last but not least, the Holiday Sweater.

There are some that are marginally acceptable. And then there are those that should be shot...if one is bonkers enough to shoot a sweater. Please make sure it's not being worn if you do decide to go that route. If there's a sweater that ever deserved to be shot, it's the Holiday Sweater with a holiday sweater motif.

Should you receive one as a gift this year, it's time to reconsider your relationship with the giver. If the person is a grandmother, she's two generations ahead of you and should be given some slack. Moms, aunts, sisters; etc. should all know better. If you manage to get one from a member of this list, consider it a ploy to sabotage your wardrobe. And in retaliation never, ever wear it around them or anyone else. In fact, it should be a reminder to bring your A-game when you're around them. No person would give this to you if they really loved you. It's akin to getting one of those complimentary bookmarks from Barnes & Noble as a gift. It's that low.

You Learn Something New Everyday

I always assumed Mr. T was born with those gold chains attached to his neck. But with a bit of research (read: a quick stop by Wikipedia), I came out with a new found respect for the man who brilliantly portrayed Rocky III nemesis, Clubber Lang and tough guy B.A. Baracus on The A Team.

Back in the 1970s, the man we would come to know as Mr. T (né Laurence Tureaud) was a bouncer in his hometown of Chicago. If a bar patron lost a piece of jewelry due to carelessness or as the result of a fight, he would simply wear the chain around his neck until the owner came back to reclaim it. Usually, the customers failed to return; thus creating the world renowned gold chain heap we know today.

One day, while reading an issue of National Geographic, Mr. T stumbled across an image of Mandinka warriors. He was taken by their hairstyle and appropriated the look for himself. As his jewelry collection soared to a value of $300,000, this was a safer, less labor-intensive alternative—Mr. T had spent hours were spent placing the chains around his neck. He would also sleep in the bulky chains to get a sense of what it must have been like for ancestors who were slaves. However, after seeing the devestating aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, he decided to forego his trademark jewelry.

Mr. T remains an indelible icon of the 80s. With his uniform of fatigued pants and denim jackets with sawed off sleeves, he was aware of his image and took a proactive role in creating it. Dirk Benedict, as Face, may have been the hotty of the show, it was Mr. T who left the biggest mark.

TV Style Icon: Janet Wood

Janet Wood. Dedicated florist and steady tenant on Three's Company. With the revolving door of blonde flatmates (Chrissy, Cindy and Terri), Janet managed to retain her place in the Santa Monica apartment she shared with Jack Tripper. In Season 1, she had a modified Dorothy Hamill cut that was popular at the time. The next year, they put her in some overalls and gave her a perm. In the 1978-1979 season, her hair had grown out a bit and she was wearing styles just a notch below roomie Chrissy Snow. But by the turn of the decade, Janet had a fierce coif and outdressed the bouncy Ms. Snow. Wearing her Gloria Vanderbilt or Calvin Klein jeans with flesh toned stilettos, she'd done a complete sartorial 180.

For the remainder of the show's run, the football jerseys and coveralls from the early seasons didn't resurface. Her look continued to evolve, as personal style should, and she personified early 80s mass style. Pat Benatar is a close second, but Wood comes out on top.

The Stockings Stalker

I entered kindergarten during the 1983-1984 school year. My favorite videos were Eddie Grant's "Electric Avenue" and "What A Feeling" from Flashdance. I had no idea the film was about some stripper in Pittsburgh, nor would I have cared. The styles of the time included trickle-down mass punk; ripped, spiked and safety pinned. I, for one, was obsessed with having Big Girl shoes. Today they'd be equivalent to the classic Ferragamo Varina flats. My shoes always had some contraption to keep my little feet in place. Whether it be show laces or a buckle strap, the secured shoe stayed on during rigorous PE sessions of kick ball.

Since I was relegated to white knock off Adidas (they had 4 pink stripes instead of 3), I needed to step up my game. It was the 80s and the sneakers were too casual for me. Enter church stockings stage left.

My wardrobe of worship consisted of a multitude of dresses, and never mingled with my school clothes: t-shirts, jeans, and denim skirts. Within my church wardrobe I had stockings of every 80s persuasion: yellow lace, plain Rubble Bubble pink, and my favorite, white with little red hearts all over.

Back then, my mother dictated what I wore while I ate Cap'n Crunch and watched Inspector Gadget. But, soon I began a campaign for the clothes I wanted to wear. As this was a quarter of a century ago, I can't remember exactly how long the campaign lasted, but it must have been long. Mommy is an Aries/Taurus cusp. She doesn't budge.

Everyday I'd ask her if I could wear my stockings with my sneakers. My church shoes were black patent with a buckle. While they served their purpose at a house of worship, they would have been too too at school. Every time I asked her, I got an emphatic NO as an answer. I can't recall her reasoning, something along the lines of sneakers and stockings not going together or me running the stockings while playing. But I persisted, and finally, she surrendered.

I was psyched out of my mind to be wearing this special hosiery. In addition to the fake Adidas sneakers, I wore what I now consider to be my uniform at the time: Miss Peggy t-shirt in which she's wearing a tank top, shorts that are far too tight, and some roller skates. USA was emblazoned on the shirt, probably in lieu of the '84 Olympics in Los Angeles. The bottom half of my outfit was a simple, denim pencil skirt.

When I got dressed in said uniform, I thought my look was fire. I made sure Mommy gave me the special hair style, too. Instead of two pig tails, I got 4 (concurrent with my fake Adidas), which were reserved for Church or picture day at school.

After my mother walked me to school, my intention was to show all the other five and six-year-olds my fashion savvy...maybe some upper classmen, too. As soon as I got outside of Mrs. Week's kindergarten class, my colleagues started in on me. They laughed and laughed. And when they were done laughing, they laughed some more. These were kids I considered friends of mine. Good friends. One after the other, boys and girls alike, asked me what I was thinking. No one wore sneakers with stockings. Only crazy people did that apparently. I wanted to be a vanguard, but it backfired.

I had yet to get those Big Girl shoes from Zayre that my parents had promised me. Stockings would have looked great with those. But I insisted on wearing my stockings then; I wasn't terribly concerned with footwear. I was making due with what I had.

After a day of what seemed like non-stop ribbing, I finally made my way home on a walk with Mommy. As embarrassed as I was, I told her what happened. She didn't spare me from any "I told you so" or "Next time, listen to me." I got plenty of those. But I'm grateful that she allowed me to wear the stockings so I'd be able to see why the combination wasn't a good idea.

I would eventually get my Big Girl shoes...the next year. I didn't have any more patience then than I do today, but they were worth the wait.

With Stanton + Williams Style Therapy, I try to give clients on the younger side more leeway. They haven't had a chance to develop their own style and have a feel for what works for them and what doesn't. It's crucial to make mistakes, and even spend all day being embarrassed out of your mind. On the other hand, for my more mature clients, my mother's voice of reason filters down through me. If I can spare them from a day of heckling, it's worth my hourly rate.

Style Therapy By Mr. T

If I had to go on holiday for a week and leave someone in charge of Stanton + Williams Style Therapy, it would be Mr. T. Click here to see why.

TV Style Icons: The Huxtables

The entire Huxtable clan was always beautifully turned out. From matriarch Claire's stellar separates, to her husband's vivid knits, the family that styled together stayed together. The Cosby Show was full of characters with fully evolved personal taste; the dernier cri in Brooklyn Heights. While the episodes taught us the importance of honesty, ethics, and living up to our potential, a lot of us took our sartorial cues from the Huxtables.

Of the children, Denise captured the mid-80s most brilliantly, both as a pacesetter of style and as a designer. And then there's Rudy. Remember the third season episode where she schemes to wear a summer dress to a party during the fall season? Her mother was the voice of reason. Even when she's stern, giving her youngest child a lecture on weather-appropriate dressing, Claire Huxtable is polished and fashion forward.

In an episode from the previous season, the power of clothing makes itself apparent again when Vanessa purloins Denise's sweater to wear to a school dance. The sisters come to blows over the plum-colored sweater coat, almost knocking out their father.

Cosby Show costume designer, Sarah Lemire, created a fashion time capsule during the period the show aired (1984-1992). Other than Dynasty and Miami Vice, I can't think of another program from that era that captured the aesthetics of the time. In the past decade, Sex and the City came close for the late 90s and the early-mid noughties. But Patricia Field's concept was more hyper-reality than that of The Cosby Show. Unlike the characters in the aforementioned programs, Cliff and Claire were parents to five kids. He was an obstetrician and she, an attorney. Their wardrobes had to be more believable because of their roles.

Today, with the Internet, people have easy access to designer collections minutes after the shows take place. Twenty-five years ago, fashion footage was limited to glossies-and they only came around once a month. With Claire and Cliff and the kids, at 8:00 PM every Thursday night, it was like being in the front row.

TV Style Icon: Dorothy Zbornak Was the Chicest GG

To put it in the plainest terms, the other Golden Girls simply tried too hard. The other day I caught a rerun of the show on Lifetime. One of the topics of conversation regarded Blanche keeping the tags on an expensive dress she planned on seducing a man with and then returning to the store the next day. The gold spangly number was on the shorter side and made noise when it moved. It screamed "Look at me! Look at me!" and if you can't do that at least "You can hear me coming."

Rose had on a frock that Laura Ashley's granny would have thought too hausfrau to wear. In fact, Sophia's ratty yellow cardigan elicited more sex appeal. And then there's the inimitable, peerless, urbane Dorothy Zbornak. 

Yes, Miami has a true tropical climate. The summers are hot and humid and the winters are warm and dry. The average temperature in January hovers around 70, but Ms. Zbornak was above flimsy spaghetti strapped dresses and flip flops. 

During the run of the show, from 1985 to 1992, she wore modern, ageless pieces. She understood the importance of the fabric's hand and drape. Her multiple cocoon jackets easily mixed with her harem pants. Neutrals predominated her wardrobe, with the occasional print or pop of color. Dorothy knew how to edit and exercised great restraint...unlike her wear & return, conspicuous consumer housemate Blanche. 

Never did she pile on the accessories. Zbornak's slouchy flat boots (for helping her navigate the daily grind of South Beach), smart purse (large enough for lesson plans, keys, and a hardcover bit of non-fiction), and perfectly sized earrings balanced out her grand frame. And that beautiful silver coif; the perfect compliment to her closet's color story. 

Dorothy's Zbornak's clothes read: highly intelligent, fashion forward, and progressive thinking woman. As the house's voice of reason, it would have been inauthentic for her to wear an acid wash miniskirt or a strapless leather jumpsuit. But I have the most confidence that this Brooklyn babe would have been able to pull it off with great aplomb.