This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

The Calvin Klein ruby shoes continue to hold their sartorial sway over my imagination, and I am obsessed with touches of any and all shades of red . . .

How bad-ass is this hat?



I need a loose knit cap. It needs to be red. (I resist calling it a Rasta hat, because of this kerfuffle. I am not sure how I myself feel about the young traveling heiresses--though I do love the snarky term, "trustfundafarian"--but I think it's hilarious that New York Magazine responded by putting a "real" Rasta man in the Look Book this week.)

How fabulous is this conspiratorial pair?



This next outfit reminds me of something I might have worn when I was 7 or 8 years old, probably because of the white tight/black shoe combo. Still, she somehow pulls it off for a stunning ensemble. (I think I might be quoting Duckie from Pretty in Pink with the phrase, "stunning ensemble.") I do not tend to wear cardigans, but a scarlet cardigan . . .


It's about the time of year when my inner Tyler Durden wants to come out to play. No, I don't want to burn a kiss mark into my hand with lye or have sex with Helena Bonham Carter** or fistfight boys in bar basements or start armies or anything. I do, however, start to feel a bit of a fevah that puts a certain strut in my step and makes me want to wear the best evah item of fantasy clothing in red . . .



. . .the Durden jacket. (It doesn't look red in this photo, but trust me, it's Tyler Durden red.) I actually have a red jacket with sort of the same cut but it is made out of some cheap chemical leather-like substance. Someday I will find the Durden jacket, perfect in fabric, style, and girl-friendly cut. It really is the holy grail of clothing for me.


**Note: This is not entirely true. I think that everyone sort of wants to have sex with Helena Bonham Carter or be her for a day or be Marla Singer for a day or to be Tim Burton, who actually does have sex with Helena Bonham Carter.