Milk Is The New Prada: Where I Blog

Milk Is The New Prada: Where I Blog

Where I Blog

In response to a question by Latte Mommy.

This is how we do (what we do). At work. On our Lunch break***

The Other side of Thirty

This is so like my favorite topic. Because I live it, think about - am it. The thirty somethingish woman of today has quite the challenge on her hands, finding the delicate balance remaining fashionable without being 'trendy', youthful without trying to be too young. no mean feat indeed, in this day when two year olds wear low rise, boot cut jeans. Ha!

What this means is that your taste must - albeit reluctantly change. You can no longer get away with buying those camisoles from forever twenty one, urban outfitters, Bebe. those are for your children. Fictional or otherwise. You are still allowed in Banana Republic fortunately, and embrace staples from Brooks brothers, Ann Taylor and the White House, Black Market store. I personally will never stop getting stuff from Anthropologie. So sue me. but I have come to terms with the fact that I probably will never wear nine West shoes again, and not just because all the teenagers in church go there. The shoes are getting crappier and crappier and I am a bit of a shoe snob/label whore. I just know that the right pair of shoes can never be a bad thing. And it's the first thing the people that matter look at. And judge you by. Shallow, but oh-so true.

So I am more into the understated chic look. The accessories and or the 'interesting camisole, patent leather belt, SHOES are my passion now instead of the big statement bag. Not that I have anything against those, but I'm just in a 'keep em guessing' phase. more long Champ 'Le pliage' bag for work than Fendi B-buckle bag. More Kate Spade/Tory Burch flats than Gucci loafers. More age, more subtlety, I guess. Or maybe like I said, it's a phase...

peace, pp

Chictopia

It is always extremely gratifying when I find out that indeed there are folks just as nutty and quirky as myself. See, fashion is truly something I am passionate about. I love to wear nice things, attempt to design clothes, enjoy watching people's fashion choices. So I was overjoyed to discover chictopia.

Have you ever put together an outfit so clever or maybe so simple yet so utterly divine? Or maybe you just liked the way you looked that day? Well, there are fellow fashionistas on chictopia waiting to learn from you and admire you. And you can pick up quite a few tips yourself. In less than 15 minutes, I picked up three different ways to tie my scarf and an innovative way to wear a man's shirt(as a strapless dress!) Even if you just like to people watch, this site is worth it. And I am so adding it to my reader feed.

My Husband, The Rockstar

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My dear, dear man and I celebrated our 5th year anniversary yesterday. It makes me almost choke up now, when I remember who and where we both were in life, then. I was working full time at a Non-profit in Baltimore, while going to law school for my L.L.M, and interning for a Judge in Baltimore. Whew. He was no less busy, struggling to learn the ropes in real estate, under a mentor who unfortunately didn't pay that well. I remember us scrambling to get to the mall to buy his ring before 2pm - which was the time we were supposed to meet our four witnesses (family and friends) in our Pastor's office, for a small, legal marriage blessing. ( The 'Big Do' would follow the following year, but that is a story for another day. )

It just so happened that this year, five years later, we fought the day before our anniversary. A "not speaking to you like ever' tiff. And so I go off to work, sure my anniversary will be just another day, you know? When my darling man calls and asks where I want to go for dinner, still icy, I politely decline. I thaw after a few minutes and concede to a movie. We will go see 'The Dark Knight'. Hardly romantic, I know, but that's the mood I am in. Movie mood. We meet up there, me wearing the same Ann Taylor linen shift I wore at our wedding 5 years ago, (it still fits. 5 years and two kids later!) and he, a bleach stained (I kid you not) T-shirt and jeans. The movie is crappy and I scarf down a whole tub of bad movie popcorn, but at least we're friends again.

We get home at 10 pm and I head to the bedroom to rest my weary bones. And viola! I wouldn't go to dinner, so this darling, darling man that I married, brings dinner to me. In our bedroom. With the lights properly dimmed. From our favorite french restaurant that we usually go back to on nearly every anniversary, 'Tersugels'. And there is wine. And Salmon with butter infused shrimp 'cous cous'. And Lobster salad. And Peach Flan. And steak. And he changed into the white shirt he wore on our wedding day too. And... I'm just happy I chose this man to go through life with. I truly, truly am. Happy anniversary darling man. You Rock!

pradalicious

Buh-Bye...

...thirty-two, hello, thirty three! I'm not an 'ageist' - I know what it really means, but it's also my term for someone obsessed with their age or with being eternally young. On the contrary, I actually do revel in each year, because I truly believe that I do get better and more fab with time. But. Yes, there is a 'but'. Thirty-three just seems. So. Darned. Middle-aged. I mean, come on! I just embraced 'Thirty' it seems and now, all of a sudden, I'm in my 'mid-thirties'. Already???? Well, tell you what - we'll make it the most fabulous mid-thirties it could ever be. So 'Happy birthday to me!' and all that jazz. And bring on the 'middle agedness'...

(Last day of) Thirty Two...

(First day of) Thirty Three...

not bad, prada, not bad...

Room mates

Growing up in a house with five siblings has left me with an undeniable respect for privacy and personal space. Don't get me wrong - we were never on top of each other or anything like that, but there were long stretches of time where I invariably shared a room and thus could never really do with my space what I wanted. Thus, it has been somewhat of a priority for me, to give our little tenants as much space as they each can handle. But just here and now, with a live-in nanny and a guestroom that might as well have a revolving door, it ain't happening. So Monkeyboy and 'Numero Uno' Son are sharing a room {:-(}, albeit a large one. But with a Thomas the tank toddler bed, sleigh crib, armoire, dresser/changing table and rocking chair, not to mention architecturally impossible angles, it's a bit of a squeeze. I was at a loss as to how to decorate their room without each losing their own little personality. thank God they're both boys. I just went with allocation a side of the room to each, with the rocking chair area being a central spot and making MB's stuff a pale shade of green that wouldn't look too bad with NU's soft blue. And that has worked for us, until I got my latest issue of 'Cookie'. It is filled with so many tidbits about 'shared space' that I have been dreaming about headboards and beanbags. But alas MB is only 6 months old, so i will embrace patience as a virtue. :(

the decorating, pp

Juicy Butt

In my husband's mind, I am a size zero. I don't know if this is due to some kind of weird body dysmorphia thingy, (that is, if you can have body dysmorphia for other people?) or if because he is a lot bigger than me but he thinks I am (and refers to me on occasion as) a "wee thing."

While extremely flattering, it is also very frustrating, as my closet is now home to all kinds of junior- sized, teeny tiny items of clothing, that my hubby (with the best of intentions) has gone out of his way, mind you, to purchase for me. 'Barbie- doll' clothes I call them, these exquisite yet tiny jeans, dresses that come only up to my hip bone and more recently, this box of 'Juicy couture' underwear.

We will leave the discussion of whether a 30- something- year- old -mother- of- two has any business wearing 'day of the week' panties (or ANYTHING by Juicy for that matter) for another day. Let us focus for a mo', on the fact that the underwear can barely fit over my wrist, much less my bum. Sigh. I got your 'Juicy' right here, babe.

The Bootylicious, pp

'Gilty' Pleasure - by invitation only.

I'm just a regular Jo(sephina). As in, I put my Loubou(tins) on one foot at a time, just like y'all and there is something about a deal - any deal - that makes me want to spend copious amounts of money. This must be true for all of us, or Costco and BJ's would be out of business. But I am learning to recognise (and wait for) real deals. Ergo, the one shouldered Jay Godfrey dress from Neiman's (though aching cute) is not as much of a bargain as the one shouldered Cynthia Steffe dress from 'the Gilt groupe', (which costs $179 at both Neimans and Saks) where a deal is truly a deal. How much of deal, you ask? try $70 versus $300 and something? Plus, you never ever pay full price for a trend, because you'll ALWAYS regret it. Remember, celebs get this stuff for free. And we(non-celebs yet fabulous all the same) get our stuff from 'the Gilt Groupe', cause "our mama's didn't birth no fools...". Besides the 'handwritten' note from the owners was so classy, in all its 'black scratch paper and gold inked' glory. Nice touch, no? Exactly.

pp

Wanna Be Parisienne

I am planning a trip to Paris this summer, so naturally, I want to know what to wear and how to dress. I have heard way too many stories of the snobbery and quasi-judgmental outlook of the French (at least of the 'ugly American' or 'Americaine', as it were, not to know there is a basic dress code. Now I don't mind looking like a tourist, just as long as I look like an extremely stylish one.

No white sneakers of ANY sort. If you must wear sneakers, then dark colored Pumas or Converses. Absolutely NO shorts. Dark colored skinny jeans, dark pants even better. A lot of black is ALWAYS good. Oh, and scarves are a must. Hermes if you dare. Flats for the cobble stoned streets. No flip flops. Boots - though I really don't get that - not in the muggy summer weather. Flowing skirts and subdued print dresses work too. Good bag, nice shoes, stunning accessories. Looking effortlessly chic is exhausting, trust me.

So why do I care? Because I love fashion and it is my duty to pay homage to Paris - the debatably most fashionable city in the world- by at least, caring. And if you think I'm alone, try googling "what to wear in Paris' and discover the amount of cyber space devoted to that irrelevant question. Mais oui, we will be chic or die, n'est pas? :-)

Paris bound PP

Out of Africa...

Out of Africa comes beautiful things. Gorgeous fabrics, delicious food, beautiful people. And I want to celebrate just a few of them in this post - little things that I've found on the web that make me proud to be who I am.

Motherland Bites has everything I crave from my childhood days. Golden 'puff puffs', shiny 'meat pies', did someone say crunchy nuts? I am so there. Except they are based in the U.K. {Sigh} Oh well, here's a shout out to those wonderful women 'across the pond'. Your presentation alone (as I have not tasted their food) makes you noteworthy!

I fell in love with these little darling dolls when I spotted them last year on this site. (Bella Naija, by the way is another awesome Nigerian import and her blog keeps my nose firmly planted in the business of all the fabulous people in Nigeria) I mean, how adorable are these replicas of women from the three major ethnic groups in Nigeria? If you have been hunting for dolls that look more like your baby girl and ESPECIALLY if you are Nigerian. these barbies are a must have. I even ordered one for myself, and let's face it, I am hardly seven anymore.

And of course, this list would not be complete without something from Calista Clothiers. If you're looking for something to take you from office to evening or just to lounge in this summer, look no further! This Culotte jumpsuit is too cute and available in all kinds of fabulous colors. All kinds of delish, I tell ya!

The Returns

I didn't like the Chloe shades (referenced below) and the Ralph Lauren and Maggi London all-in-one shirt dresses, didn't seem quite as fabulous when they came in the mail. That is the downside of shopping online - it is well, not 'offline' and you must know both your body and the designer's cutting style really, really well. Sometimes, when you're flipping through the virtual catalog, it is easy to forget that you are not 6'8" with an impossibly oval face, so you actually begin to think that you can pull off those pants, and yes, those comically ROUND Chloe glasses! Years ago, I would have suffered in silence, letting the 'unwearables' grace my closet, until I finally give them away to some lucky girl with more modelesque proportions. But now, being older and wiser, whatever pathos I felt for the retailers is non-existent, time having taught me that I just will never be a size 2, barring osteoporosis or some other bone shrinking condition- I have learned to let it go. And feel no remorse in filling out the return form. The retailers expect it. And they know that out of ten returns may come ONE purchase. So it's all good.

fashionably yours, pp

Fierce Purple Lips

Lately, I have been obsessed with finding the perfect purple lip gloss. Well, not exactly purple , more like purplish. I must explain, I'm weird like that. i get caught up in the little things that I just have to have. You know like the perfect black briefcase (for going to court to do my pro bono case), The perfect diamond studs, the perfect purple- sorry purplish lip gloss.

Now, the good thing is I always know exactly what I want. First off, it must be a gloss and not a lipstick. Lipsticks are too old ladyish for me right now and certainly too much for these sunny summer days. It cannot be sticky, as there is nothing more annoying than hair stuck on your lips - so this disqualifies the Victoris Secret Beauty Rush gloss I got. It must not be too sheer - I have dark chocolate colored lips, so it has to stand up to and conquer my lip color, which brings me to my last point - without being overpowering. So, it can't be waxy or plastic looking - you know, overpowering. You do not want to be looking like you have purple plasticine on your lips.

So I have tested quite a few - one by MAC ( I didn't realise that this was also a 'plumper', so I was writhing in agony from the intense tingling and wondering why.), Sally Hansen - My usual go to gloss, not quite purple enough, Victorias Secret - too sticky and too sheer, Now I'm on to Dior Addict. Wr'll see how that goes. And I will be updating with pictures of my fierce pucker. Do with that information what you will.

the puckering prada principal...