Remains Of Romanticism

A recent Vanity Fair article, "There Will Be Beauty," discusses the notion of opulence in the austere face of "these uncertain times." The masses are shunning conspicuous consumption. Those who practice frugality and prudence are considered in vogue. Harper's Bazaar asks what will people wear with now tighter purse strings. The mag provides a melange of recessionary fashion tips: less is more, cleaner lines, conservative style. Ugh. Quite frankly, I detest the word conservative. It connotes many ugly things in this world. I am in the business of pretty things, romantic things like the dress worn by actress, Emily Blunt in her Vanity Fair photo shoot above (I am seriously jealous of Ms. Blunt, who not only gets to don some positively gorgeous gowns for the shoot but also dates John Krasinski...not fair).

A.A. Gill's article is a lovely confection that muses over the elaborate elegance of recent couture designs. It celebrates the importance of retaining the elegance and rococo-like approach to living. Gill asks these important questions:

Do we really and truly want a world without couture? Are we willing to throw away what we have on top of what has already been lost? Is there no place for the exclusive and the beautiful? For the hysterically indulgent? And the superbly crafted?

We should always have extremes in order to achieve a balance. I see myself as a Romantic, but at times, I also crave minimalism. We always need the option to bring the ostentatious to the table. Extravagance is humanity in its most manifested state. These days, I feel like we are pulling into ourselves, curtailing expression and free-flowing beauty so critical to our beings. While I am not advocating for constant garishness, a smattering of gaiety, here and there, will sustain us and flower our lives until the cultural climate is more amenable to flamboyant humors.

Check out some of my favorite gowns from Ms. Blunt's photo shoot (all photos are courtesy of Vanity Fair.com):

Visiting Genius

Anyone who enjoys flexing their creative muscles knows the fear harbored within the deep part of yourself about the quality of your creation. Some may not care, saying they create for the mere pleasure afforded by the activity. I access my creative side to relieve stress and to engage in something other than the monotonous yet necessary tasks of my daily routine. I write, I sing, I paint, I cook. These things release some part of my soul, once bound by the empirical wire of my job and responsibilities. I begin to feel the joy often lost throughout the day.

However, I ask myself these questions: Is this thing I am creating good? What does good mean to me? Could I share this with others and have their appreciation not only of my efforts but of the true skill and originality reflected in the piece? Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the best-selling book, Eat, Pray, Love, spoke recently at TED (Technology.Entertainment.Design), an annual conference that brings the world's greatest thinkers together to give approximately 20 minute-speeches that center upon their life's work. These are stunning petite-fours of the intellectualism that fuels global cultural progress. Ms. Gilbert's astutely-delivered speech centers around the idea of creativity and how it's perception changes across culture and history. She attributes the success of her recent book to the idea that genius/creativity should be perceived as a divine spirit that visits occasionally, but is not always with an individual. Using examples from ancient Greece and Rome, Ms. Gilbert explains that one individual is not a "genius," but rather may experience the presence of such a being at various points in life. The phrase, "a stroke of genius," fosters the idea of genius as something that impacts the surface of mind, perpetuating the flow of aesthetically-pleasing and erudite thought.

This idea relieves the pressure about the quality of one's creation. But what if one is never visited by this genius? Several times when writing, I can recall the experience of an idea that felt so brilliant and well-constructed, producing a thrill that rises from my toes through the whole of my body. The idea embodies a blossoming of confidence and joy in the activity and a marriage between the creator and the creation. I am at my most whole when I have this feeling, such a gift of humanity.

Flats Flaunted

The reign of flats has arrived! For all of you women out there who can't abide high heels for all the teetering and soaring height they afford, fear no more. Flats are more in style than ever much to my relief as a 5' 7" woman whose stunted coordination requires a close proximity to the ground. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I like the wholly feminine feel acquired by sporting a pair of darling pumps or flirty heels (you will never see me in stilettos). My favorite heels are a pair of open toed red leather heels with the cutest ruffle you ever did see (they do, however, give me the worst blisters you ever did see).

My fondness for flats is shared by the First Ladies of current political and fashion scenes. Michelle Obama, at a cool and sophisticated 5'10", sports the sweetest low pumps and flats. And, she recycles her shoes, displaying frugal fashion unknown by past White House sirens. Famed songstress and French First Lady, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy also enjoys wearing flats (although one wonders if this isn't because her husband is a solid 5'5"). The Huffington Post likened these political leading ladies and their love of grounded footwear.

First Ladies in Flats: President Barack Obama (far left), First Lady Michelle Obama (left) with President Nicholas Sarkozy (far right) and French First Lady, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy (right) (The Huffington Post)

Tres mignon: Little black flats worn by Carla Bruni-Sarkozy (The Huffington Post)

Sassy Silver: First Lady Michelle Obama spots some shimmery silver flats (The Huffington Post)

And...sandals by Michelle (The Huffington Post)

Some jeweled gladiators brought to you by Ms. Bruni-Sarkozy (The Huffington Post)