What a Waist

I own a vintage, dirndl-style Yves Saint Laurent skirt that's one of the most cherished items in my wardrobe. It's from the designer's Spring 1980 Rive Gauche collection and it's constructed from a beautiful black cotton that's simultaneously sturdy and soft.

One would think, once you go ready-to-wear you never go back, but there's a little thing called cost of living in NYC. So I make due with what I have. One day very soon though...

The skirt is exactly the size of my waist—no bigger, no smaller. I'd been wearing it all morning two Fridays ago, and up until lunch time, I was quite comfortable. However, I stuffed an entire platter of Indian food down my throat. Let's not forget that nan expands once it settles into your digestive system...or at least it feels like that. Some bubbles from a bottle of San Pellegrino helped, but that didn't cure my overstuffed feeling.

Later that night I met up with Jess to see Fat City at Film Forum. After the film we noticed David Byrne in the lobby. And to strike up a conversation, I thanked him for all of his Brazilian Luaka Bop releases and kept it moving. Perhaps one day Mr. Byrne will be thanking me for spreading the Style Therapy message to the masses?

In any case, Jess and I (sans David Byrne) headed to El Paso on West Houston for dinner. Who does Indian and Mexican in span of 6 hours? Your Style Therapist, that's who. After downing the most beautiful chimichanga I've seen in a while, I began to feel the repercussions. You know those pregnant women who are in denial and insist on wearing their pre-baby bump clothes and belts tightened to conceal their condition? That's how I felt. How my skirt made it home without ripping at the seams is a miracle.

My natural waist had expanded by a good 3", and mind you, there's no elasticity, whatsoever, in my favorite skirt. The only casualty was a button that had been a little dangly prior to my gluttony. This is a cautionary tale to all of my beautiful clients. Please, when wearing your more more choice pieces that can't be replaced, stay away from the curry vindaloo.

Sunday Best Has Evolved Into a Hot Mess

This past Sunday I went to a christening at a local church. The interior was rich in religious motifs with biblical references showcasing lush colored stained glass windows. Frescoes on the ceiling beautifully depicted Christ, the Virgin Mary, along with angels and apostles. While it wasn't as vast as St. Peter's Basilica, it was comparable in its grandeur.

Despite this ministerial magnificence, I felt overdressed as opposed to underdressed in my simple, black knee-length dress with 3/4 sleeves and princess seams. The majority of the congregation, with the exception of the friends and family of the little guest of honor, were dressed in everything from swishy, nylon track pants, to camouflage printed sweats, and well-worn running sneakers.

Back in my day, before I became a heathen and went to church every Sunday, men donned suits and ties and women wore dresses or skirts. Now I don't believe that God cares what we wear when we worship Him, but I think we should. Some people looked like they'd just rolled out of bed. In fact, one woman I was sitting behind had bed head—literally. There was a big old section of her hair that had clearly been flattened out by her pillow. She didn't even run a comb through her head.

I understand the house of the Lord is meant to be all-inclusive. No one should ever be made to feel unworthy of being there. I know at times church can feel like a fashion show for folks. Some worshipers are more concerned with who's wearing what than the message in the sermon of the day. My point is that no one would ever go to a job interview in track pants or partying at the club in dirty, faded jeans.

I know it's 2009 and not everyone needs to wear a floral dress with an Easter bonnet, but can we pretend like we're someplace special? Church or temple or the mosque are not the same as a tailgate party at Giants Stadium or running to the bodega for some Ding-Dongs. If we're going to do the casual thing at our respective places of worship, can we at least be neat about it? Whether it's jeans and sneakers or dresses and pumps, let's make sure there are no wrinkles or stains. Forget about God saving the queen, I pray that He can save us from hotmessness.

Let 'er Rip

I don't know why this is becoming a trend, but some young "ladies" have been roaming around the downtown area of the city wearing ripped tights. Now I'm a child of the 80s, I understand the concept of ripping perfectly good clothing. I think the look is tired and unbecoming, but if you insist on doing it, make sure you have the gams to back it up. The girls I've noticed are no match for Betty Grable and her legs.

With Style Therapy I stress to my clients to embrace their bodies and dress the body they have now. Play up what you're proud of and camouflage areas you're not terribly pleased with. In other words, work with what you've got.

The lasses I've been seeing are on the shorter, stumpier side. Their goal should be a streamlined look to create length in the legs. In this case less truly is more. The rips and holes create such an ugly and unpleasant leg, aside from the sloppy slob factor, the eye races all over the place, creating more width than length.

Some of you may be saying, "Style Therapist, maybe these girls like their less-than-long-and-lean legs." If they truly loved their less-than-long-and-lean legs, they'd pretty them up, not dirty them up with tattered hosiery.

Rei Kawakubo Knows What's Up

I own a flat, black leather Comme des Garçons (no, not from the H & M line; we've been over this) tote bag. It's by far the simplest accessory I own. There are no pockets, buttons, zippers, bells, or whistles; just two panels of leather and two handles. Most interestingly is how the bag was designed to carry only the essentials. While the bag is deep, if I carry a bottle of water, the shape is grossly distorted, compromising the aesthetic integrity of the bag.

I think our girl Rei Kawakubo knew exactly what was up when she conceived this bag. The only way this tote can retain its shape is if I kept my impedimenta to a minimum. Interesting word, impedimenta. It's the Latin plural for impedimentum, which means "baggage or other things that retard one's progress." Basically JUNK.

As our bags continue to grow bigger—in essence the SUVs of leather goods—we manage to stuff them with impedimenta: fat wallets, two-way pagers, mobiles, bottles of San Pelligrino, iPods, brown bag lunch (we're in a recession, remember?), check books, makeup case, scarf to accommodate the indecisive weather, last month's Bazaar, this month's Paris Vogue, feminine hygiene products, Moleskine notebook, moisturizer, Altoids, lip balm, sunglasses, sunglasses case we never put the sunglasses in, French pocket dictionary even though the trip to Paris was over two years ago, phone charger, those MC Hammer pants that refuse to float away so we plan on consigning them, flats to change into when the heels get to be too much, impedimenta that's been under our work desks for month, ticket stubs, loose receipts, camera and camera case we never put the camera in, Hi-Liter markers, Sharpie markers, mechanical pencil, book we should be reading but haven't gotten to because of the Bazaar and Vogue, yesterday's lunch from Los Dados, a smaller bag for later in the evening because this tote bag is too big, big tub of cocoa butter...

And we wonder why one shoulder is lower than the other.

Size Zeroes Can Be Muffins, Too

When I was in Miami this past December, the Admiral and I had brunch at an overpriced, palate-underwhelming restaurant along Collins Avenue in South Beach. Like many cities with true tropical climates, clothing is often brightly colored to reflect the natural hues in the environment, spare to accommodate the heat, and tight to show off a beach-ready body.

I grew up in South Florida, so I'm used to the stark sartorial differences between the Sunshine State and the Big Apple. But when I was a young lass, we didn't have muffin tops. Even though this trend (no doubt inspired by celebrity moms-to-be) has been relentless for the past five years or so , I've never grown accustomed to it. For the life of me I can't wrap my brain around it. Those Hollywood moms get away with exposing their bellies because there's a person living in them. Regular guts don't count. But for the record, I don't think an exposed gut on the street is cute whether you're preggers or not. Octomom anyone?

I just want to know why a young lady would leave her home with her gut spilling out? I don't have a six-pack like a That's the Way Love Goes Janet. And no one knows that because I keep my tummy under wraps. Even Janet lost her That's the Way Love Goes six-pack.

Muffin tops are usually seen on naturally thicker girls. Remember, Style Therapy is all about embracing the body you have now! None of this, "I need to lose 5 lbs. before I can bring my A-game." So I'm not knocking thicker girls. But the Collins Avenue muffin top I saw on that fateful day was no thick girl. If I had to guess her size, she's hovering somewhere in the 0 to 2 zone. I'd never seen anything like it before. Her waify body was carrying Homer Simpson's gut. In her lowrise jeans and too-short top, she was letting it all hang out. Now I'm not contradicting myself here. I said embrace your body as it is now, not walk around town looking like a hot mess. Neatness counts whether you're a 0 or 22; NEATNESS COUNTS!!

It's ok not to have washboard abs. It's not ok to look like you're being squeezed to death by your jeans. Ladies (and gentleman), let's all take a few extra seconds to examine ourselves in the mirror before we walk out the door. Check to make sure there are no hanging threads, stains, lint, loose buttons, or loose guts. Remember your A-game doesn't consist of exposed gut-flesh. And as for you six-packers out there. I know you've worked hard to get to this point and I applaud your efforts. But frankly, I don't want to see your guts either. Open-air stomachs are for the beach, the gym, and MAYBE the club on the RAREST of occasions, not for the streets. The only person this looks cute on is Dora; and she's subtle about it.

When You Take A Picture of Yourself...

My beautiful people, when you take a picture of yourself, please remember to crop your arm out of the picture. We've all taken personal snapshots for either a laugh or do to sheer boredom. But I would argue that at times, self-picture-taking is akin to talking to yourself; but that's not what this post's about. We're talking about self-branding.

I can't tell you how many Facebook profiles contain a large batch of people either snapping themselves in the mirror (the lowest of the low) or stretching out their arms and quickly taking a shot. In both cases, the subject can come across as being vain. Whether you are or not is beside the point. Others have taken pictures, with camera in full-view, of an outfit or haircut they thought was cute. Ain't no shame in that game. If you think you're cute, document it. But you lose cool points for doing it yourself...or at least clearly showing to the world that you're doing it yourself.

We live in a time of digital cameras. We're able to easily set these on timers, run to our spot, and make it look like a friend or loved one was so enamored of us that they had to take a picture straight away. But when you've got the camera in plain view? (Shaking head)

Come on beautiful people. Let's get ourselves together and stop being so obvious about it. Until we do have that friend or loved one at hand to snap a picture, set that timer! And if you can't set the timer, crop your arm out of the picture!

Birthday Wish/Birthday Present

Birthdays only come once a year, so it's imperative that the wishes made are important ones. It is my wish that you all bring your A-game: when you go to the bodega for a quart of milk, when you have a presentation before the board of trustees, and when you bump into your crush at Danceteria. Despite the recession, there are options.

If you were born between January 20 and February 18, you get Aquarius 30% discount off of a CLOSET DETOX—a phenomenal deal that Oprah, Jennifer Anniston, and Christie Brinkley can utilize. If you fall under the other eleven astrological signs, no need to fret. There's the popular CAPSULE COLLECTION service that many people have found incredibly helpful. With a wardrobe foundation, the possibilities are endless. We've all brought our C-game long enough. The C-game is average. It's the year of the ox. It's time to be above average!

Blame Sex and the City

As was the case with a lot of women who experienced their early twenties during the early Noughties, Sex and the City (SATC) was one of my favorite programs. Out of the four characters, we could all relate to at least one of them on some level. And those clothes, those wonderful clothes. Costume designer Pat Field realized how important dress was to the development of these characters. Remember how Miranda dressed during the first season as opposed to the later seasons? She and Charlotte, for a time, dressed in a near-stereotypical manner. The former clad in sterile all-black, and the latter in wasp waist enhancing dresses with a bow or ruffle planted somewhere.

Many of us were heavily influenced by the SATC philosophy of having fun with personal style. I was no stranger to the oversized flower corsage on my coat lapel during early 2001. And Carrie Bradshaw helped to usher in the vintage craze. Very few people indulged in used clothing before she made it acceptable. If they did, they were either high-end collectors of Courrèges and Rabanne or grungy types who had a steady rotation of flannel.

However, some have taken their personal style too far. Whatever your aesthetic is, it's imperative to edit. Thankfully, we're in the middle of winter and people are desperately trying to make it to the inside of their destination. There's basically a sea puffy black coats, black gloves, and black tams. It's during the summer where things really get egregious. There's a profusion of over-styled young women roaming the streets in shorts and stilettos. Their idea of juxtaposing different prints, styles, textures and labeling ends up looking like a hot-messed mish mash of madness. These girls fail to realize that the styles they're emulating are from television—a hyper-reality. The styles were meant to entertain and inspire, not be taken literally.

This February marks five years since our quartet of friends bid us adieu. The film that premiered this past summer brought with it a few more validated trends: belted waist, graphic print dresses, and statement jewelry. These have been lasting sartorial movements amongst those in the know, but SATC validates the styles to a global audience. While there have been some major guffaws on the street level, the show did teach a lot of us to take risks and push our fashion limits. The Style Therapy message is to figure out your own style organically. What works for YOUR figure, coloring, lifestyle; etc. Just because it looks cute on Carrie doesn't mean it works for the rest of us.

It's Called Nailpolish Remover

Ladies, ladies, ladies. There's nothing worse than some chipped fingernail polish. It can cheapen you faster than fishnet stockings and clear platforms. The other day, on the L train no less, I saw a young woman chipping away at her nails. Not only were the flecks of paint flying in different directions—which could have easily landed in someone's eye and injured them—but she was ruining her nails underneath.

When the Chinese invented nail varnish around 3000 B.C., they had no idea that they were creating a potential weapon. But what's even more dangerous is that a bit of your own nail comes off when you deliberately hack away at your digits.

Short, shaped, and groomed nails are the loveliest accessories a woman can have. One of the least expensive, too. If you're decked out in a beautifully structured Lanvin dress and Pierre Hardy shoes, makeup to the nines, hair perfectly coiffed, and ragged nails, what's the point of getting out of bed at all?

Details ladies, details. If your nails are slightly chipped, the remedy is relatively small and takes little time. Dab a bit of polish remover on the index finger of the hand WITHOUT the chipped nails and gently smooth the offending area until the edges are smooth. Apply the necessary amount of coats to the nail and seal it with a clear polish protector. If you have several chips on different fingers and/or your manicure is over a week old, it's time to start from scratch.

The old adage of being able to tell a lot about a person by the shoes they wear applies to nails as well. Chipped nails may convey laziness or lack of attention to detail. While it may not signal the end of the world, you certainly won't be bringing your A-game. Early last year, the New York Times did an article on the chipped nail as a trend. You don't follow that trend. It's not for you.

Style Therapy New Year's Resolutions

As 2008 comes to an end, it's time to set some realistic goals regarding your wardrobe. Here are some tips to help you along the way:

1. I will not buy an item simply because it's on sale.

2. I will not get caught up in the number on a label. A size 2 by one designer can be a size 12 by another. I will not be a pawn to anyone's vanity sizing.

3. I will not buy an item I have doubts about in the hopes that it will grow on me. Fungus grows.

4. I will not keep clothing in my closet that I haven't worn in over a year.

5. I will detox my closet before buying another item. I'll either do it through Style Therapy or on my own.

6. I will try on EVERY SINGLE THING I purchase before leaving the store.

7. I will not allow pushy salespeople to force me to buy something so they can get their commission.

8. I will not hold onto an item I don't wear just because it's by a high-end designer.

9. I will not hold onto items I don't wear just because I got them at a steep discount.

10. I will not twirl or constantly stroke my hair.

11. I will not buy or wear any counterfeit items.

12. I will not buy any clothing that's too tight in the hopes that I'll fit into it after I lose a few pounds.

13. I will only buy colors and silhouettes that flatter me.

14. I won't get the Rihanna haircut, because it does not flatter me...even though I wish it did.

15. I will not allow my cousin Peaches to dress me. He doesn't know what he's talking about; and he's rather tacky.

16. I will make 2009 my most stylish year ever by following these simple resolutions!

Wrapped Hair is Not An Actual Style

I suppose I'm on a roll when it comes to this decorum stuff. I get easily riled up. This message is directed towards a select few. There is a type of woman who likes to be seen on the street with her hair wrapped and covered in bobby pins. Usually, the young woman goes to the hair salon and instead of having her hair styled like a normal person, she asks her stylist to wrap her hair up and secure them with the pins. Think of it as leaving the salon with your hair in rollers. They're both on the same level.

If the said woman was to go directly from the salon to her house, there would be very little harm, very little foul. I can't say with confidence no harm, no foul because she's still out in public not bringing her A-game. However, if the windows in her car are tinted, almost no one will see her. When I used to straighen my hair, I wrapped it all of the time in order to keep the frizzies away. On the rare occasion, your Style Therapist would indulge in semi-public wrapped hair...but only if I was going straight into a car and then a house. No, I was not bringing my A-game. Plus, that was before my Style Therapy training. But some women brazenly walk about town as if it were an a legitimate hairstyle.

I remember during my undergrad days, the occasional student would show up to class with this dreadful look. It's become so accepted that some women run their errands with the wrapped hair. They're on the subway, walking down the street, and engaging in regular public life. What does that say about them exactly? Why stop with the bobby pins? Why not come out in fuzzy house slippers and drawers.

Style Therapy is about bringing your A-game—always. I'm not necessarily referring to high-end, fashion forward looks. That's not for everyone. I'm talking about clean and fitted in your signature style. When you present yourself to the world, practically in rollers, you're shouting out that you don't care about yourself or what people think about you. That's not the makings of a rebel or maverick, but a slob...and a damn fool.

Dear Style Therapist: Are Hats Indoors Okay?

Dear Style Therapist,

After reading your last blog “messy hair only works for trolls”, I found myself thinking about the many ways I try to mask a bad hair day. One of my go-to’s is the slouchy knit hat—you know, the one you would wear on a cold day. Lately I’ve seen many girls resorting to this trick but it does look quite as flattering.

What is you opinion on wearing a knit hat indoors and as an accessory? Can it be chic or do I just look like a person trying to cover up a bad hair with what my friends describe as a “toilet bowl cleaner”

Sincerely,

Bad Hair Day in Queens

Dear BH,

Indoor tam or knit hat wearing isn't a crime in and of itself; but if poorly styled, you could be mistaken for a bag lady. It's also akin to wearing your coat inside. You're apt to get the old cliche suggestion of "Stay a while." I'm going to err on the side of keeping it as a means of keeping your head warm rather than masking unkempt hair. Here are some alternatives for BHD (Bad Hair Days) during all seasons:

1. An updated fedora
2. An updated fedora with a bow
3. A classic Kangol
4. A silk scarf à la Jackie Kennedy Onassis

And there's always putting in some product and sleeking your hair back for a sharp, low ponytail. You don't always have to cover up.

*Bonus option*

New Mommy Does Not Have to be Synonymous w/ Hot Mess

Just because you're a New Mommy it does not give you license to be hot mess. I understand the baby is crying and needs to be changed, but this doesn't mean to forget about you for the next 18 years. You can't let yourself go and then blame it on the kid. What happened to accountability? Well, the Style Therapist has the answer. You New Mommies are going through a true kind of madness. You've just evicted a human being from your womb, you're hormones are 10x worse than during puberty, and everyone has forgotten about you and is focusing all of their energies towards the new baby. JT sings about "bringing sexy back", don't let your sexy go anywhere else in the first place!

If you New Mommies follow a few, simple rules, you'll soon be on your way to pointing out the other New Mommies who look haggard and disheveled.

1. Before baby arrives, remove sweats from your property. You spend months and months preparing for the arrival of the little one. How about a little time on yourself? College sweatshirts, baggy sweatpants, oversized tees... get rid of them. Fleece? Absolutely not. Fleece is and sweats are entry level garments into a career of sloppy dressing. They're all bad and a surefire way to looking like you really don't care about yourself. If you think it's hiding your baby weight, think again. It makes you look bulky and bumpy and rolly. If you don't have it, you can't wear it. So lose it!

2. Invest in fitted cardigans (operative word being "fitted") of varying lengths for maximum comfort and polish. Quality knits are comfortable and versatile. Because they're not as structured as wovens, they accommodate weight fluctuations. Invest in pieces you'll continue to wear after you've shed the excess pounds.

3. If hair is the last thing on your mind, have your stylist give you a sharp, low-maintenance cut. If you're not in the mood for scissors, whip out a good hair product that can hold your sleek ponytail in place. No scrunchies. No butterfly clips. No! No! No!

4. Buy dark denim with some stretch. They'll adjust to your weight and hide stains from defective sippy cups.

5. Statement jewelry can dress up any outfit and really make your face glow. It also keeps baby occupied and is handy for teething. Make sure the pieces aren't too small. Babies have a tight grip and can choke on a piece. Also, don't spend too much money on these pieces because baby may break them.

6. Invest in a good, structured blazer. You should have one of these anyway...As with the cardigan, it can polish off jeans and a t-shirt beautifully.

7. Unless you're absolutely flawless, skip this section. For the rest of you, find a quick makeup routine that suits you. Chances are you'll have puffy eyes from the baby waking up over the course of the night. Get a GOOD concealer and foundation. To brighten up eyes and cheeks, get a bronzer or highlighter in a stick form for quick application. Always always always wear mascara. If nothing else, please abide by this rule. And don't forget a tinted lipgloss for easy swiping and added color. And here's a stern warning for those of you who like to live on the edge: Under no circumstances is it ever ok to apply making while driving. Not only are you putting yourself at risk, but also your child and other people on the road. DO THIS AT HOME!

8. A weekly manicure would be nice. It would be Heaven! If babysitters are scarce and the other mommies are ignoring you because they heard you talking trash about them to another mommy at play group, don't just let your tallons grow like claws or walk about with chipped nails. Skip the polish and keep the nails filed and cuticles well moisturized.

9. Shoes are incredibly important. The urge is to get those sneaker slides. Well, murder that urge! I'm trying to get Congress to pass a bill to ban those atrocities. In the meantime, seek other alternatives. There are marvelous flats out there of every persuasion. If you insist on sneakers, keep them sleek and avoid the bulk.

10. Donate, I repeat, DONATE your maternity clothes to a women's shelter or the Salvation Army or Housing Works. Someone else needs these clothes now. How is your child applying to college and you're still wearing the expanding pants from when you were pregnant with him?


Some of you are still out there complaining that you don't have time. When you can't set aside 5 minutes for yourself, you don't have 100% of you to give to your child. And some of you say, "Style Therapist, you don't have any kids. You don't know what you're talking about." There are orthopedic surgeons who have never had bunions. There are ambulance chasing lawyers who have never been in a car accident. Just trust me on this one. Your child will respect you for taking care of yourself.

Messy Hair Only Works for Trolls

There's something going on with hair today and it isn't right. People have been walking around, looking like true hot messes with their hair unkempt. It's morally wrong to have an Afghan Hound walking around looking better than you.

There's a young lady in several of my classes whose hair is never, ever combed. If the problem only existed in the morning, I'd assume that she had been rushing and forgot to run a brush through her hair. And if the problem were strictly PM, it would have meant the possibility of a long and stressful day. But she always seems frazzled, with her hair pasted to her forehead and cheeks. I'm not sure what to make of all of this. Often, she'll run her hand from the front to back; sometimes creating a pompadour. Other times, she'll sweep her hair from one side to the next, resulting in a mock comb-over. My suggestions to her are few, and easy to accomplish:

1. Take a big dollop of any Gatsby product, run it through wet hair, and create a chignon. It's sleek, sophisticated and she never has to worry about looking sweaty.

2. Take it all off for a low-maintenance GI Jane look. Sure it'll encourage stares, but that's from jealous women who spend their weekends under the hairdryer for hours over the weekend.

3. Invest in a good, quality wig or lace front weave. Don't forget to get the one with baby hairs! Makes for a more realistic look. Unlike her natural hair, she doesn't have to worry about the matted look she's prone to.

Now hold on a minute, you gents are not off the hook. Yesterday, on the R train (shocked that it wasn't the L?), I saw a young grizzly bear. At least I think it was a young grizzly bear. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, speaking to a young man and staring at people. But when your chest hair connects to your neck hair connects to your facial hair connects to your head of hair: that makes you a grizzly bear!

I blame Boho Chic for my classmate's current state. Just because MK does it, that doesn't make it ok for the rest of us. And as for the young man, I really do believe he was a grizzly bear. I can't attribute his condition to anything other than being a grizzly bear.

The Call of Duty

If a cop sees a crime taking place, it is his obligation to intervene. If a doctor is playing golf and notices someone struck down by lightning, it is her duty to get involved. Since members of law enforcement and the medical community are expected to use their expertise to diffuse situations, does the same rule apply to the Style Therapist?

I have a professor who habitually wears lipstick on her teeth. Not a subtle, bubblegum pink shade. I'm referring to the heavy duty, Gothic dark maroon kind. We tell friends when they have an exposed booger. If we see a person with TP on their shoes, we alert them, too. And don't forget the proverbial spinach stuck in the teeth during a blind date. Who eats spinach on a date anyway?

But in the teacher/student relationship it may not be the best road to take. It's not even the lipstick on her teeth that concerns me the most. It's the fact that each week the smeared color gets progressively more noticeable; to the point where her entire top row is that Satan's red color. My concern is that I think she's doing it intentionally as if it were a part of her personality: the zany lady with the messy mouth. We all know at least one relative of Mme. Messy Mouth. Whether it be the young bohemian with the ratty hair that hasn't been cut in months and washed in weeks or the young man who insists on smelly skinny jeans with holes and stains to show how above appearances he is. He's a true thinker you know.

I suppose that I've answered my own question. After all, there's solicited Style Therapy and then there's meddling. No one loves a meddling mother-in-law, but that's to be expected. A meddling Style Therapist has the capacity to really overstep bounds. While I've made my decision to butt out, I'd like to hear your feedback.

What to Buy on the Cusp of a Recession: Ladies

If you're not feeling the pinch yet, hopefully you'll be spared. For those of us who do have to cut back, it's time to get savvy regarding what we purchase. If you live here in New York, or any other metropolitan city, chances are that wearing the same thing everyday isn't an option. We want to look sophisticated and chic; never dated. So wardrobe replenishment is of the essence. I'm not advocating foregoing your utility bill in order to snag that Lanvin Pollison bag at Barney's for $2565. That would be utter madness. You'd have to see a professional to get over that problem. But there are elements that freshen up even the most fatigued of closets.

As it's now autumn, the time has come to consider pieces that can take you well into the spring. *All of these items were available during the time of publishing:

1. Coat-The line of a coat is imperative. People can see you coming from a mile away; and you don't want to look like a lumpy hot mess. Remember the Style Therapy adage: neatness counts. The less bulk, the better. Find outerwear that can work overtime. You can wear it to work, a lovely dinner afterwards, and (because it's not too precious), running errands on the weekend. Here are two options at different price points: Hopefully you have a nice amount of savings and Skip drinks with friends this Thursday

2. Boots-Even if you're accustomed to taking cabs, being in New York can entail a great deal of walking. Shoes must be comfortable. I don't cosign on the suffering for fashion philosophy. I find that line of thinking to be laced with claptrap and twaddle. There's no sense in limping around in beautiful shoes; especially when they are capable of creating bunions and corns. Here are two options at different price points: and All of the bills are paid up (including student loans) and Skip lunch with your work buddy for a couple of weeks. You don't like her anyway, you just feel like a loser eating alone.

3. Sweater Coat - This is a marvelous item to include in your wardrobe because it is a key piece for wardrobe efficiency. It can be worn as outerwear during early autumn or, when belted, can double as a dress. The sweater coat is also a great piece for layering when the operations people at your job can't make up their minds regarding the thermostat. Here are two options at different price points: You're independently wealthy and You have to borrow a little cash from your work buddy who you don't really like, but you'll pay her back during neck pay cycle

4. Statement Jewelry - Nothing resuscitates a top better than a striking necklace. Remember to keep scale in mind; you don't want to walk around looking like a pin-head. But if you've got a head on the larger size, you don't want the chain to get lost in the midst of your massive dome either. Proportion. Proportion. Proportion. Here are two options at different price points: No one gets any presents this holiday season (or next), you're cutting off the cable indefinitely, you've got a big bonus coming up and you can do without a cellphone and You're canceling your subscription to The Economist and eating ramen for a while

5. Blazer - My favorite thing in the whole world. I plan on being buried, or cremated rather, while wearing one. They're slimming and polish off anything you happen to have one. Watch out for where the bottom of the blazer falls. A cropped jacket can magnify the hippier among us. And for our boy shaped friends, a line that's straight up and down can does nothing for the figure. Here are two options at different price points: Robbing banks isn't so bad if you don't get caught and If you wake up late for a week, you can skip that daily breakfast at Pastis

Best Dressed Video: Part I

My Feet Keep Dancing - Chic - Some of you are too young to remember words like panache and pizzazz. I pretend to be old enough to remember such words. Forget about consulting Webster's for definitions. This group personifies positive "P" words like no other. There's absolutely nothing better than a bass player in a bespoke suit! RIP Bernard Edwards.

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.

This Little Piggy Went to Market, This Little Piggy is...Fake!

When I was in secondary school, I used to ride the bus with a grade-schooler named Jennifer. No, it wasn't the special "short" bus with the tinted windows. I attended a private school that had grades Pre-K through 12. In any case, Jennifer's people, be they her mother or older sisters, always made sure she was finely turned out. While kids in the upper grades had to wear truly appalling polyester numbers, the elementary girls had a navy jumper made out of natural fibers. Jennifer never had a hair out of place and her saddle oxfords were always well-buffed and shined.

One afternoon, during the ride home, she volunteered that she had prosthetic toes on her right foot. Of course no one believed her. She didn't look like she had fake toes...whatever that meant. Once she realized our incredulity, she propped her leg up on the bus seat and removed her saddle oxfords, then her socks...then whipped off her toes. Everyone's mouth had enough room for a swarm of flies to swoop right in. Jennifer was quite matter-of-fact about the whole matter; she'd spent her entire life with her fake toes. She said there'd been some freak accident during her delivery or it was a birth defect. I can't remember, as it's been 15 years.

The thing that impressed me the most about Jennifer (and her people) is that the prosthetic toes were painted in a beautiful ruby red enamel. Her fake toes were perfect. Of course they were. They don't manufacture faux toes with bunions and corns. She and her people understood the importance of a polished appearance, regardless of her circumstances. To put it in the punniest of terms: Jennifer put her best foot forward.

This was also the case when I interviewed for my first job out of university. It was at a prestigious publishing house and I wanted it desperately. The human resources manager who interviewed me was a lovely Blonde woman with a quiet disposition. As I recall, she had a Veronica Lake curve to her hair. When I looked down at her fingers, I noticed that all 10 weren't there. I tried not to appear obvious about it, but often inconspicuousness only leads to the opposite.

She, too, subscribed to Jennifer's school of thought. Some fingers had barely a nail. I'm talking the most modicum of matter; a scrap of a nail! But if she had a nail, there was polish. Again, that lovely ruby red color. Jennifer and the HR manager didn't opt for subtle French colors or shiny clear. Their nails made a statement.

While not everyone may be a fan of Ms. Heather Mills, it must be noted that she doesn't permit her lack of a leg to stop her either. She bops around in opened-toe pumps and sandals, proudly, in ruby red nail enamel.

My message is that there's never an excuse not to present one's best self. People with no appendages are walking around looking sharp. There's no reason why the rest of us should parade around in sloppy university sweatshirts and sneaker slides. In this new era of change, let's upgrade our personal style, too.

Jennifer should be around 25 now. There's no doubt that she's stepping out in her Loubous, leaving common girls (with all 10 of their real toes) in her dust.

There's Nothing Worse Than...

being trapped in a stuffy L train car with a greasy bag of McDonald's. Last night it had been raining, so the poor olfactory nerves were working overtime. Mickey D's on the train is bad enough when there are no other odors to contend with. But combine wet hair and damp clothes with the scent of slick and slimy fries, and it's intolerable.

When the offending subjects started whipping out fries to share, I bolted out of my seat and headed over to the back of the train. My troubles only increased. A young man had a medium sized pie from Pizza Hut and proceeded to shove a limp slice down his mouth.

Dining on the train is just plain gross. I've popped a couple of Fruit Snacks here and there in my day; but Fruit Snacks don't smell or leave stains. Eating cooked food on the train is akin to public grooming. It's no better than cutting nails and mascara application. No one should be subjected to such crude behavior. Just as the gentleman who clips his toenails into the atmosphere risks injuring someone with the remnants of his sharp talons, the fry eaters of the world are ruining freshly laundered clothes. I had just gotten my wool coat back from the cleaners.

Fry eaters, nail clippers, and make up applicators, if you're reading, I have a message for you:

You are NOT at home! Clean up your vulgar manners at once! However, The Style Therapist has a good heart and is willing to offer a discount on my services if you promise to change your ghastly ways!