Da Fashionista.com

The Scene

Left Mr. Diabolina in bed this morning and headed down to Canal Street early for some cheap thrills. Gawd, I heart interlocking trinkets of deceit.










Checked out of the hotel and then took a stroll with Mr. Diabolina. Stopped by the NYC Library like big nerds.








Couldn't get thoughts of Carrie jilted at the altar out of my mind. Still haven't forgiven Big for that. F.











Checked out a little exhibit on the style of the 1920s.




Tres appropos given Saturday's party.

Fooled around in the subway.





Looooove how fashion is everywhere you turn in this city.












Met up with Jean Bean for lunch at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station.





She came bearing a gift for Mr. D. An issue of WWD. With Mischa his doppleganger hawking her new hippie headbands on the front page. I died laughing at the thought of making him wear the sparkly headpiece I rocked to the party.










[Recently I decided Mr. D also looks like Desperaux - that adorable, intrepid MOUSE. I mean the eyes, nose and lips... well, it's UNCANNY. He hates this comparison more than the Mischa one.]






Said a sad goodbye to Beans and then headed home to 60 degree weather and the Hills finale. Thank the diaper wearing, no word knowing baby Jesus.









The Outfit
Old Navy thermal
Bloomingdale's cashmere sweater
Forever 21 turtleneck and leggings
Rich and Skinny jeans
Vintage Camel coat

The Accessories
Fashion District scarf
BCBG boots
Stella McCartney bag
Banana Republic hat

The Grade
F for it got FREAKING colder today



The Commentary
Today was the coldest day of the trip. 25 degrees.

Hence more layers. More frump.




In town for the season finale, The Hills girls were similarly discombobulated by the NYC weather.















Over the course of the flight to L.A. I shed both sweaters, the scarf and the ski socks. And with every layer stripped, I began to feel more and more like myself.

More and more like the arm-&-leg-baring, Phillip-Lim- &-Manolo-wearing, L.A. fashionista I am ;)









Jean Bean on the other hand looked beyond fierce in layers of NYC amazing. The wedge furry boots and the long chains and the wrap sweater and the vinyl leggings. Adore, adore, adore, adore, ADORE. A symphony of sass.


Reeked glamazon fashion editor.

Well, until she put on her jacket.

Then she looked like Kenny.