Main·te·nant, adverb. Of the French language, meaning “now,” “at the moment,” and perfectly suitable for a[n American] culture which thrives upon this idea of instant gratification and living for now, for better or for worse. Live for the present and appreciate everything of the moment! Welcome to my lists of whatever ramblings and updates on my life, my current obsessions, things I love, stuff I dub noteworthy. Here’s to the now, maintenant. Feel free to share yours!
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Buying
I’ll be honest: slicing up my at-the-moment doings into a section titled “Buying” has me suddenly uncomfortable because it makes me think of my finances. Gulp!
I preach the value in being fiscally responsible—inancial independence has always been key in a woman’s success and independence—but it’s not to say I don’t make the occasional splurge… or two. I’m a huge believer in investing in the things you love so long as its within budget; otherwise, keep your little plastic cards at an arm’s length away!
Besides the usual trips into Victoria’s Secret (shh!), my latest investment is this Jessica Rabbit of a dress from ASOS. If she ever wandered out of the nightclub during the day, this dress would be it. No doubts about it. I know a well-made dress when I see it, and I most definitely know a well-fitting dress once it slips over my head.
I think I audibly gasped when, after a few minutes of strategic positioning (the woes of being alone in a fitting, but thank goodness for yoga), the back was fully zipped. Purrr-fect. Not a single curve lost in sight and yet tailored with integrity for elegance.
Hourglass-shaped ladies: I implore you to get this. You will not regret it.
Eating
Being on bedrest with the flu (a result of exhaustion and overexertion, more so than anything else, to be honest) meant that food was not—for once—this girl’s best friend. What did save me, however, was a daily dose of Jamba Juice’s finest: the Acai Super-Antioxidant Smoothie (an absolute dream for the body and the taste buds!) and Berry Up-Beet Smoothie.
I am a caffeine addict first; a fruit-and-veggie smoothie lover second, but as of late, my weekly Starbucks has been slowly replaced by JJ. My favorite barista (-o?) would keel over if he knew of this betrayal, but as he doesn’t read ABC, it’s safe to say that smoothies are the stuff a girl could live on.
Doing
You naughty kittens—minds out of the gutter, please! I wish I could tell you that I’ve been jet-setting from New York to Paris for Fashion Week, but alas, I was (a) home with the flu (see above), (b) at school (a insignificant thing, really), (c) not so lucky. I did, however, was so lucky to have received an invitation to attend The Lingerie Collective, an exclusive, London-based trade show featuring luxury, independent designers, for its first opening in New York City. I’m sick and tired (really, though) of missing out on amazing opportunities because of said flu.
I wouldn’t trade my life for the world though. I’m perfectly content where I am: and as of now, that being as studious as I can possibly be (ha!) during the day, and getting salsa routines drilled into my head by night. Latin nights at little lounges are intoxicating, the atmosphere and people are incredible. Let’s just say that I’ve already wore through my first pair of (real!) salsa shoes.
Listening
Salsa and bachata are two genres I have to be in the mood for to listen to, and once said mood is right, entire playlists are set on infinite loops of repeat for my morning and late-night commutes. It’s in part influenced by the influx of rehearsals and performances (for the dance groups I’m in), and in part by a re-spark in my love affair with the Latin culture.
On a different note: Rihanna’s album “Unapologetic” is everything. Specifically “What Now.” Listen. Maintenant.
Loving
High-waisted everything. Jeans, trousers, skirts—it’s only taken me two decades to realize that low-rise bottoms are the bane of the petite girl and hourglass’ existence. Long gone are the days of not-so-discreet shimmies and shakes to adjust the ever-shifting waistband, hurrah! I’m only counting down the days until it’s appropriate for me to wear little tops tucked into high-rise, wide-leg trousers everyday. It’s too bad your early twenties (20 is the age to blame, specifically) are dictated by tightest of blue jeans. Until then, I tell myself. Until then.
Lingerie. It’s a topic that warrants a post of its own, but cannot go without even the briefest of mentions. Lingerie is a love letter to self, a whisper of a proclamation (and announced witha coy smile) that I am woman, hear me roar. It’s our armor and our shield; our indulgence and our second skin. It’s not just about support (literally speaking) or propriety, but a means of self-appreciation. Love how you look in lingerie, and you begin to love your body; anything that is capable of doing such a thing is certainly worth the while.
Pencil dresses, of the RM by Roland Mouret variety. Again, I’m wishing for the day when I can wear these endlessly without a sideways glance from my peers. It’s a fact: I’m a thirty-something soul in a 20-something’s body.
Lusting
I’m not that salacious, really. But if you must know…
I dream of silk blouses and sooty leather jackets; drool over Bordelle’s Angela dress and Chromat’s harnesses; die over Oscar de la Renta separates and Calvin Klein’s negligee-inspired evening gowns. I sleep in satin charmeuse shorts by American Apparel, but wish to wake up in Olivia von Halle’s Coco pyjama set; only polish my nails but want to see them accessorized with the most delicate of silver rings; shabbily photograph things in my life with my iPhone, but want to shoot with an SLR…
Reading
I won’t bore you with my coursework readings (though some are fascinating for the nerds like me), but I’m still working my way through Gael Greene’s Insatiable and reading Monocle between classes. Both are food for the soul. (Or mine, at least.)
Wearing
I’ve been living in some combination of a heattech legging with some sort of pretty blouse or open-knit sweater—it looks better than it sounds, promise—and doing everything in my Topshop Mighty boots. And I mean everything: walking on ice, running to catch dreaded forms of public transportation, trekking across campus, and dancing all in between. These boots are God’s gift to women, I’m convinced. They take a bit of breaking into, but after that, it’s gravy, baby!
When I’m not being studious, however, I’m taking every advantage of this season for opaque tight and how they can turn any dress into something polished and feminine in a heartbeat. As tired as I am of wearing pants, to go bare-legged is forget all sanity, so fleece-lined pantyhose have been my savior. I actually picked up a pair by Ellen Tracy for less than $6 at Marshall’s and have been wearing it to death under my fitted, print dresses. When worn with the usual black ankle booties, it gives the illusion of legs for days—a little boost every girl could always use!
Watching
Smash. Is Katharine McPhee a babe or what?! When it comes to it, I’m a sucker for beautiful bodies and talent (and I’m not ashamed to admit it): this cast is all sorts of incredible. Currently still processing the scene where the girls turn into maneaters with slicked ponytails, slinky LBD’s and neon pink stilettos—it reminds me of that classic Natalie Portman character in The Closer. Watch me recreate that ensemble for a night out; just you wait.
Yes-ing (!)
I promised myself that I would say yes to more things. Yes to doing, living, being, going—yes to life!
. . .
x
pretemoiparis says
Love those low boots. And I totally agree with what you say about lingerie!
Wendy says
where is the pretty lingerie from? it’s gorgeous!
Kimberly says
Victoria’s Secret’s new (-ish) Very Sexy unlined collection! x
jonathanochart says
How risqué :p Looks great, and I love your writing!
-Jonathan
Bena says
Carpe diem! Not French, but pretty close to maintenant 🙂 Oh how these Romance languages inspire us! I absolutely agree with you; but, I am guilty of saying that I should live in the moment, and instead dwell on the past or worry about the future. It’s best to realize the beauty of the current moment because it won’t come again. Here’s to yes-ing!