photoMy mother told me that when I was a baby, sometimes I would cry incessantly, and the only thing that would calm me down, was taking me to a store.  Any store.  Or rather, any store with merchandise.  It was uncanny, she said.  As soon as she pushed my stroller into view of the clothes/shoes/accessories/whatever was on display, I would stop fussing.

I think this is still true today (sadly).  I can spend an entire day shopping, mentally cataloging everything I see, everything I touch.  It calms me.  And only after I’ve surveyed the entire area, can I decide what items I want to bring home.

I have no self-control when it comes to shoes – Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, Manolo, Valentino, Saint Laurent – I don’t discriminate.  And I should probably just go ahead and work at J.Crew, I’m in there so much.  But then I’ll find an amazing jacket someplace like Kohl’s, or a scarf at Target, and then it all makes sense.  It doesn’t matter where you bought it, or how much it costs.  Style is style.  If it fits like a glove, and expresses whom or what you want to be that day (an Amazonian supermodel? a Parisian muse? an East Village artiste?), then wear it.  Wear it all together, the classic ‘high and low’ mix.  That’s style.

This blog, The Fashion Spectacle, is my way of channeling all the nightmares I have about my closet.  I constantly think about what outfits I can put together, it consumes me.  I’m checking out my favorite bloggers each day, to get inspiration from their style.  I see gals on the street with great style everywhere I go — it all inspires me.

And if you must know, I also have a total obsession with eyeglasses.  As of the start of this blog, I have twelve pairs.  Yes, it’s a problem 🙂

So the ‘Fashion Spectacle’ can be many things… a perfect pair of glossy, black Chanel spectacles…or perhaps some 6-inch Saint Laurent heels that cause a spectacle.  It’s all about the show!  And I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I do!

. . . .I’m also pretty sure that if ‘Project Runway’ existed in the late 70’s, my mom wouldn’t have had to take me to the store so much.  She could have just sat me down to watch Tim Gunn instead, and I would have been just as happy. . . .

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