Posts Tagged ‘Chicago’

            The last few days have been rather loathsome, to varying degrees—either the weather has misbehaved, or Daylight Savings Time has kicked in, or my sleep schedule has been off, or I’m still recovering from a whirlwind three weeks with much traveling involved (including an unexpected weekend in beautiful Oak Brook, IL—but more on that later)—actually, it’s a confluence of all of those factors—but this week has not had an auspicious start, at least in reference to my mood.  I’m also surrounded by grad schoolers who are all enjoying splashy spring break vaccaciones, and due to the upcoming wedding, I have absolutely no time to spare to get away myself (save, of course for Italy, but that’s so far away yet), so there’s much self-pitying going on.  Which ultimately leads to me shopping, with a mindset of “oh, that’s going to be perfect in Italy!” as a justification of sorts.

             Perhaps this isn’t the best idea.  Regardless, the next time I venture into New York with Michael (which will be soon), I’m not going to care a whit about shopping and instead focus on taking pictures.  And then I can post them here!  But I digress. 

            As for what I have been buying as of late:  a mixture of high and low, including indulging in one of the few delights of wedding preparation—finding the trousseau.  Plum Sykes wrote an article about this in the July 2006 Vogue on the cusp of her wedding day, and while I’m normally not a fan of her work (Bergdorf Blondes was only good to speculate on exactly who she was profiling based off of society pictures), I was absolutely smitten by her search for lingerie exciting enough to haul along on her honeymoon, and therefore resolved to do the same when the time came for me.  Though I got engaged only a few months later, we took the long-road in planning and only now does it feel remotely appropriate to start scouring.  Though I do not have the resources to venture all the way to Paris to visit the various shops along the Rue Cambon, the glory of the internet (along with some old-fashioned foot stomping through some shops) has allowed me to find a few…interesting pieces.  I tend to be sartorially schizophrenic when it comes to lingerie—I love clean, sporty pieces, albeit in soft fabrics (hence the American Apparel obsession) but I can also veer towards the side of the coquette, mostly when it comes to negligees and nightgowns.

             So what will be packed?  Like I’m going to say!  My fiancé reads this (I think).  But I will mention this—a bra from a Berlin-based lingerie company that finally came in yesterday is a starring piece in a new imaginary French Vogue photoshoot, that includes an escritoire by the living room window (that sadly doesn’t exist…yet), a 1920’s typewriter (that does exist in said living room, thanks to a 20th birthday present) and me perched behind it with smudgy eyeliner (I can’t help it!), hair down and curly, and this bra.  I’d have to listen to Camille’s “Mon petit vieux” and I’d be snubbing out a Djarum Black into my vintage ashtray (currently housing three of my four stolen pool balls).  And yes, I know this is only my second IFVP and once again I am lolling about in my underwear, but can’t you see I have lingerie on the brain?  Besides—Carine would completely understand.  She understands the need for nipples to make a veiled appearance every once in a while.


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