Category Archives: Fashion

Red or Yellow?

I love red. It’s always been a powerful totem color for me. Usually, I wear it on my underwear for a hidden jolt of self-confidence. In this case, however, I find myself leaning toward the yellow of this amazing bag from Burberry. The actual shade is called ‘Dark Marigold’ and the bag itself has been christened ‘Ormond’ (at a price point of $1225 on sale at BlueFly, it merits the name.) I’ve been looking for a yellow-hello bag for a while…

Failing that sunny shade of leather, I’d settle for this red Prada number. At $2249.50, however (also on sale at BlueFly), I stand as much chance at procuring that as I do these Tom Ford loafers. Still, a guy can dream… and make up birthday wish lists with a lead-time ample enough to allow for savings…

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A Sigh That Only Tom Ford Could Elicit

These are Tom Ford‘s Chesterfield Floral Embroidered Silk Tassel Jacquard Evening Slippers. They merit such a lengthy moniker because they are priced at $4120. [Gulp.] That’s a bit much for evening slippers, even if you are Tom Ford. But if I had that kind of money, I’d totally get them because they are, quite simply, perfection.

And even if I didn’t have the money, I would toy with the idea of finding a way to get them (selling an organ?) because they are so pretty it would be like investing in a work of art.

PS – They also come in blue, for a fraction of the price of the pink ($3770.) But I do prefer pink…

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Classic Shots: 70’s Porn

While not as bad as my pornstache moment (it’s coming back, suckers), this look was all about the slinky polyester shirt straight from the 70’s and rust-colored pants that accompany it. This Classic Shot series, from the winter of 2005, was a shoot that took place mainly in the hallway that leads to our bedroom – a haphazard whim that resulted in moody lighting and contemplative poses. In other words, it was the stuff of winter. And cheesy 70’s porn.

 

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Is This The Trashiest Thing I’ve Ever Worn?

In public, perhaps. In private, far from it. Yet for all the nudity I post here, in person and in public I’m usually rather demure, or at the very least fully-clothed. This was the most exposed I’ve ever been, but for an event like The Gay Soiree, where gender-bending and over-the-top decadence were the order of the evening, I felt the need to step-up and represent. Hence the fishnets and the lace, the corset and the guy-liner, and, of course, the butt-for-lace glimpse of my derriere.

While not the most ideal ensemble for a chilly night in February, it was fun as hell (if a little tight – that corset is over ten years old, and unlike my waist it has not expanded over time). And the stockings? They don’t stay up without garters, which, hard to believe, I did not have on hand. No matter, the motion of having to constantly pull them up all night added to the sleazy look.

Accompanied by my friend Josie (who donned a wig, and that amazing coat from my own private collection – later given to her because she looked so much better in it than me), we made a somewhat amusing scene to Andy, who’s used to such shenanigans.

By the way, while I’ve always appreciated women, and what society demands of them, I have even more empathy now. Having seen the cost of eyeliner ($10 for a pencil? I can get two hundred #2’s for that!) having felt the tight tug of a corset (there’s a bugle bead still embedded in my back, I just know it) and having wobbled around in high heels (there’s a bloody toe somewhere in one of those shoes) my hat (clipped torturously into my hair) goes off to the ladies, and anyone who has the balls to dress like a lady. That takes a lot of work, a lot of time, and a lot of money. Here’s to the ladies!

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What Price, Beauty?

When confronted with a collection of kimono before me – in a dazzling array of colors and fabrics, from the subtlest gray to the brightest poppy red, from the softest of silks to the starchiest of cottons – there are always three questions that pop into my head:

Do I need another kimono?

Do I have the money to pay for it?

Do I have the self-deluding manipulative ability to justify such a purchase?

Usually, the answer to all these questions is, at least in my crazy mind, a resounding yes. But the real question behind those concerns has always boiled down to this: what price, beauty? And for that – for the balm of beauty – no price is too high, no sacrifice too great, no other outcome than that most happy of words: YES.

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A Frigid Pilgrimage to Neiman Marcus

Thursday opened with a shudder. A 25 degree shudder. If I’d wanted temperatures like that, I’d never have left upstate New York. But I came prepared with a winter coat, and a pair of scarves I wrapped tightly around my neck as I ventured forth to the main destination: the Neiman Marcus flagship store located a few long blocks from my hotel. It was the original location, the place where it all began. While small by today’s gargantuan standards, it retained the charm and luxury of long ago, with its golden escalators and charming exterior.

Fighting a brutal wind, I arrived just as it opened, taking in the splendor of its Christmas decorations, walking slowly down a red carpet soft to the footfalls and bright to the eyes. A large glass tree stood in the front window, illuminated by an ever-changing double-row of LED lights, changing through every shade of the spectrum. A small café was just opening up as I rode the first escalator to the second floor, and then again to the men’s floor, where a small cologne stand stood before me. I held off, containing my Tom Ford-inspired excitement, perusing the rest of the floor and picking up some gifts for Andy. I took my time, for once luxuriating in the act of shopping, not focused and intent as is my usual stance. This was a moment to savor and enjoy. I listened to some local weather talk by some of the sales staff, then inquired as to a good lunch spot in the area. I asked specifically about a Vietnamese place I’d passed on the way that was featuring pho. Two gentlemen highly recommended it, so I thanked them and moved on to the cologne counter.

It was smaller than expected, and I only saw two of Mr. Ford’s mainstream bottles, and one Private Blend. Upon further inquiry, it turns out that the downtown location didn’t get all the Private Blends, and the two sales women hadn’t even heard of the new Oud Wood additions. They said it was probably the other NM location that had the line. No matter, I was not in the mood, or financial condition, to buy any more – I really just wanted to try them on.

As it was still a little early for lunch, I took the escalator back to the second floor, where I marveled over a rack of Oscar de la Renta dresses, and other holiday garb. Sparkling crystals, shimmering satin, and tons of tulle comprised fashion that doubled as art. In my next life, I shall be a designer, and I shall be fabulous at it.

Back on the first floor, I sat on a bench for a few minutes, taking in the scene at hand. The café had opened, and a few shoppers sat at tall tables for two, sipping their coffee drinks. A jewelry designer was hosting a trunk sale. Sales associates walked briskly by, but always with a smile and a Hello. Christmas lights twinkled in the distance, and my time at Neiman Marcus had come to a happy close. I picked up my shopping bag and braved the wind again, shuffling next door to the lobby of the Joule Hotel, to spend a little more time before the lunch hour…

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The Beaujolais Nouveau Outfit 2013 (Or, It’s Not Easy Being Green)

Loosely inspired by Cate Blanchett’s 2011 Oscar dress and the Lucky Charms leprechaun, this year’s outfit for the AIDS Council’s Beaujolais Nouveau Wine Celebration was all about the green. After thinking over previous ensembles, I realized that many were heavy on black or red, with little to no green – so I went lime-balls-to-the-wall and came up with this grassy pom-pom encrusted concoction. It came together at the last minute, but it’s one of my favorites. While I thought of sticking to Tom Ford and his Private Blends with a few spritzes of ‘Azure Lime’, I decided to try something by Jo Malone instead, and the fragrance of the evening ended up being the Lime, Basil & Mandarin cologne. It worked well with the outfit – and the hat. Because it all comes down to the hat.

As for next year’s outfit, I’m already on it. Planning ahead is what a Virgo does best.

 

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The Most Important Outfit of the Year

Tomorrow marks the Beaujolais Nouveau Wine Festival, in support of the AIDS Council of New York. It’s probably the biggest social event Andy and I attend, and I’ve been going for over ten years. Arriving at this time (the week before Thanksgiving), it’s come to embody the kick-off of the holiday season. As such, I tend to put a little more effort into my outfit.

There was the time I went in a Swarovski-encrusted corset, black lace shirt, black pants, and black cowboy boots. There was the time I went in equestrian pants, Burberry tie, and thigh-high shiny black vinyl lace-up boots. There was the time I went in fuchsia pants, Pee Wee Herman platform shoes, and a red cape (one of my favorites). There was the time I went in orange silk Indian pajamas. There was the time I went in a mirrored jacket (the only time the Times Union actually published a photo of me, despite taking my picture and name EVERY SINGLE YEAR). There was the time I went in a white tuxedo jacket, black velvet page-boy breeches, and black-and-white striped stockings.

There were casual years as well – and for a while I alternated between a fancy extravagant wardrobe, and a jeans and t-shirt outfit. Obviously, those in-between years were easier to pull off, and I may go that route this year, but I may not. If not, this hint of green will be part of the extravaganza. Otherwise, look for me in peasant gear.

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My Most-Complimented Coat Ever

Previously, that title belonged to a dark green alpaca coat in a subtle plaid pattern, lined with chartreuse – which managed to be both warm but light-weight. After this weekend in Washington, however, the light rusty orange coat pictured here (from H&M of all places) now takes that title, and by quite a bit. When I wear this while walking the streets of Downtown Albany, it elicits stares and puzzled looks (and one bout of snickering by a woman who should not have been wearing leggings – at least according to the poor, over-strained leggings).

In Washington I got at least fifteen compliments in my first few hours of walking around that city. More amusing was the woman who gave me one compliment, then approached me again, in the same store, ten minutes later to reiterate how much she liked it and how good they looked with the shoes I had on. The first double-compliment I’ve ever received. I’m not saying that makes Washington better than Albany, but… well, it does.

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When A Bow Tie Makes All The Difference

Tom Ford claims that whenever he is down he puts on his fanciest tuxedo and he instantly feels better. While this is far from a Tom Ford tuxedo, a jacket, dress shirt, and bow-tie can go quite a distance in repairing frayed nerves and insecure moments. Something happens when you dress up, even if you’ve been doing it all your life. You carry yourself differently, you feel a little better, and it translates to everything else around you. People sometimes ask why I bother getting decked out on days when I only have to go into work. Well, it comes with being named the Best Dressed Man in the Capital Region (even if it was back in 2008 – and until they crown another I’m holding onto the title with cold, dead hands), but I’d do it anyway as it’s always given me the extra push it sometimes takes to walk out of the house. It’s not always easy to be me, just as I’m sure there are days when it’s tough to be you – and occasionally it takes a little more than I have to live up to all of that. On those days, a bow tie and jacket are the necessary talismans to ward off the weariness.

Style is not the man; it is something better. It is a dizzy, dazzling structure that he erects about himself, using as building materials selected elements from his own character. Style is the way in which man can, by taking thought, add to his stature. It is the only way… Style is not fashion; style is not wealth; style is not learning; style is not beauty. ~ Quentin Crisp

I’m talking about flair, style, élan. Even the most wretched of us can do something about them. ~ Terrence McNally

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A Day & Night with My Two Favorite Ladies

New York City is not my favorite place in the world, not by a long shot, but with two of my favorite people in the world, it suddenly becomes something quite wonderful. This past weekend, my Mom and I went into the city to see a couple of shows and take Suzie out for a belated birthday dinner. Staying at a hotel on the upper East side (not quite worth mentioning), we were a few long blocks from Bloomingdale’s, and though most of that is beyond my means, it’s always a thrill to look. (And given that I’d forgotten to pack pajamas and an outfit for the return trip, it was a thrill to buy too.) Fittingly, it was my Mom who first taught me how to shop – not just to buy, but to look and stroll, to enjoy the time alone, to be inspired and feel pretty and get lifted, if only for a moment, out of the mundane.

I spent some time at the fragrance counter, talking over the upcoming changes to Tom Ford’s Private Blends line (pssst, the recent quartet of florals, which never quite grabbed me, is being discontinued by three). Perusing the periphery of Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and Prada, I was able to resist looking too closely at the price tags (far too monumental given my last credit card bill), but almost gave in to temptation by the likes of Marc Jacobs and Ted Baker.

Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and I escaped with the bare necessities before we had to get ready for dinner. I asked Suzie to pick the spot, and she has never let me down in that regard. This was no exception, in that it was nothing short of exceptional.

Park Avenue designs its menu based on the seasons, and since it is moving next year, they had a ‘best-of’ menu featuring the finest selections from the previous years’ menus. From the elegant atmosphere to the flawless service (a slightly wrinkled menu was immediately replaced with a crisp new one before I even noted the difference), it’s really the food that shines. And what impeccable food it was.

I chose the salmon, with a taro root salad, and I didn’t care or look to see what anyone else had because it was so good. (Actually, I did – both Mom and Suzie chose the scallops, for which they both offered excessive praise). The salmon was tender, almost-melt-in-your-mouth tender, flavored wonderfully, but not too much to detract from the excellent cuts. Its taro root salad accompaniment was a jolt of effervescent brightness and texture, dancing a delectable two-step with the fish and lending a freshness perfect for the summer season.

In the end, though, no matter how delicious the food, a good dinner depends on the company, and in that I was fortunate. There was none better.

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A Scent for Spring (In the Orange Bag)

Aside from my rather minor obsession with Tom Ford’s Private Blends, I do most of my day-to-day cologne shopping at Sephora. (Mr. Ford’s Blends are only found at the hoity-toity spots like Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue.) So when seeking out a new spring fragrance, I perused the offerings of Hermés while at Sephora, and came upon their Eau de gentiane blanche. It was similar to Frederic Malle’s Angéliques Sous La Pluie, with slightly longer staying power, and though I thought long and hard over the Eau de pamplemousse rose, (I do love grapefruit), I decided this was a little more unique.

When Andy and I were making our anniversary stroll across the street at the Public Garden, I made sure to take the Boylston way home and stop in the Hermés store to see if they offered the gentiane blanche. They did, and for the same cost as the bottle at Sephora. We also saw a horse’s saddle for $6700, but without a horse it seemed a terrible waste. A lime green suit jacket would have been perfect, but when I saw that the accompanying sweater was going for a cool $1950, I didn’t bother asking about the jacket. I’d be lucky to wrangle the cologne off as an anniversary gift. And lucky I was. Thank you, Andy!

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Madonna at the Met Gala 2013

[We interrupt the anniversary proceedings for this breaking bit of news.]

As I predicted on FaceBook yesterday, Madonna’s latest big-moment was her appearance at this year’s Met Gala. The theme was punk, and she delivered in this clever ensemble that made genius use of fishnet tights (a Madonna staple going back three decades), and a lot of studding. The hair is dramatic, the fit is stellar, and the pink heels give it that bit of Little Edie rebellion that sets it soaring. As with some of her severe looks, I wasn’t sure about this upon first, grainy-photo Instagram inspection, but when the better shots came in, I was convinced, and once again left befuddled at ever having doubted. Nobody does it better. No one ever will.

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Bitchy, Blunt, Braze Oscar Commentary

This is how this post is going to work: I’m going to put all my random thoughts and musings up here as we go from Red Carpet to the interminable last minutes of this evening’s Oscar Awards. That means it’s going to be intermittently updated throughout the night (which is the polite way of telling you to bookmark this bitch now). I’ve been put in a foul mood by the weather and other events, so the same catty cruelty you saw at work during the Grammys is in effect ten-fold tonight, and I’m joining force with a martini to make it all the more offensive. Move over Joan Rivers, I can still move my mouth…

(If you want to join in the fun, put it on E! and their red carpet show from 5:30 to 7:00 PM, at which point I’ll switch over to ABC’s arrival coverage.)

  •  The bigger the hair, the gayer the Red Carpet host. Oh, hi Ryan Seacrest.
  • Giuliana Rancic took a risk and got her hair chopped off the morning of the Oscars, and it paid off beautifully. Once again, though, her structural dress works against her gorgeous body.
  • Eddie Redmayne – look out, there’s a cockatoo on your head! Oh, wait…
  • Jessica Chastain – digging the Lana vibe, but the dress doesn’t impress. PS – Apologies for the balding comment a few award shows ago. The hair looks good.
  • Channeling a bun from the 1800’s, it’s Amy Adams!
  • Samantha Barks ~ the walking ad for double-sided tape.
  • Channing Tatum – serviceable in a tux, more easily serviceable out of it.
  • Little Q ~ Your cuteness and puppy purse are beyond my reach. My powers are no match for this…
  • Reese Witherspoon in Louis Vuitton – perfection, and I love the bold color.
  • I am trying to be bitchy, but Octavia Spencer looks good from the breasts up.
  • Kerry Washington – the dress is a bit of a situation. Not in the best way. Do you want the curve there?
  • Daniel Radcliffe is shorter than Ryan Seacrest. You know Ryan wants to marry him.
  • Jacki Weaver – Drag queens got nothing on you.
  • If a guy is in a black tux, there’s not much I’m going to say. Hoping they mess it up with bad hair or a heinous tie…
  • Melissa McCarthy – big hair, big dress, big, big, BIG.
  • Zoe Seldana – I love that dress, best so far…
  • Amanda Seyfried in Alexander McQueen – not sure about the neck area…
  • Oh look, Jennifer Lawrence is here for the prom… err, her wedding… but regardless she looks good.
  • Please tell me Joseph Gordon Levitt is not dating Sally Field… and Sally, while red is your color, that dress is not your friend.
  • Switching from E! to ABC… and already dismayed by Kristin Chenoweth, whom I love almost always. The ‘almost’ refers to tonight.
  • Jennifer Hudson & Roberto Cavalli – you work better apart than together.
  • Catherine Zeta Jones – I want your hyperbolic sleeping chamber, a.k.a. time machine. So does Ryan Seacrest – bitch was so jealous he wouldn’t let you do the Manicam.
  • So far I stand by Zoe Seldana as my fave dress of the evening. Reminds me of the divisive Cate Blanchett Givenchy dress a few years ago, which I  adored.
  • At least Charlize Theron was completely consistent: unflattering in every way.
  • I’m torn about Naomi Watts… not unlike her dress.
  • Good God – I’m dressed like Bradley Cooper’s mother. (Hey, if I can give it I can take it.)
  • Anne Hathaway – glorified bib.
  • Nicole Kidman I adore thee.
  • Ben Affleck – bringing the beard back! And I don’t mean Jennifer (she looks fine!)
  • Hugh Jackman’s wife – finally confirmed as a man. I knew it!! (And I’m referring only to the mannish tux.)
  • So what’s the protocol, is it wrong to critique the mothers that hot guys bring as dates? UPDATE: According to someone on FB, mothers are off-limits. I will say only this: my mother would know better. At least, I would tell her better.
  • Salma Hayek – please don’t masturbate in that. No way to go…
  • Jennifer Garner – Love the color, love the back, love the necklace… but the torso is… not right… and sorry about the beard comment.
  • Is it another promo for Jack & the Beanstalk? No, it’s Kristin Chenoweth & Adele.
  • When my beard comes in more white than black, I won’t grow it out. Talking to you George Clooney.
  • I was sure I’d seen Sandra Bullock’s hairclip somewhere before… oh yeah, any mall kiosk since 1983.
  • So.. the producers of the Oscars are gay. [Faints from shock.]
  • Remind me again who Seth MacFarlane is? And what is he doing on the Phantom of the Opera set?
  • I think it was better before I knew who Seth MacFarlane was…. this already sucks.
  • Oh good – a Disney tune to remind of the Snow White debacle. Smart move, Seth.
  • Incidentally, and no offense, but out of curiosity, did Charlize Theron put on weight for an upcoming role? I mean, I did too…
  • Bored by the flippant tone of the Oscars already. For people who supposedly know how to make movies, WTF?
  • Samuel Jackson – you have me rethinking my love of a velvet jacket.
  • Why can’t the cast of ‘The Avengers host the Oscars?
  • Did Gandalf the White just win an Oscar?
  • Jennifer Aniston – classy, elegant, and radiant. Loving the red!
  • Makeup & Hairstyling clearly don’t translate to wardrobe.
  • Halle Berry – let’s be honest: this is the only job you’ve had since ‘Monster’s Ball’, right?
  • Dame Shirley Bassey may have single-handedly saved the show… for the moment.
  • At times like this I wish I wasn’t gay, so I could shut this crap off. But it’s in the handbook.
  • John Travolta introducing the musicals. It wrote itself.
  • Catherine Zeta Jones just killed it. About damn time.
  • And Jennifer Hudson just brought it back to life.
  • Helena Bonham Carter – you slay me! And I love that we can’t tell if you were in character, or if that’s what you actually wore to the Oscars!
  • And now we have Gandalf the Red…
  • Followed immediately by Gandalf the Blonde.
  • Will Anne start singing along to the Jaws theme?
  • Adele always has amazing hair. I will give her that. And what an amazing performance.
  • I take back my early praise for Nicole Kidman’s dress.
  • Kristen Stewart – there’s really no make-up for that bruise? Not that you care at this moment, as you are clearly feeling no pain.
  • They haven’t even done the ‘In Memoriam’ part yet – is it too soon to add this broadcast to that list?
  • Barbra Streisand – over-accessorized to the max. Revoke my gay card once and for all.
  • Peace out Quentin!
  • Jane Fonda has turned back time. Nice color too -even if the style is a bit ‘Dynasty’…
  • Is Seth MacFarlane starting to look like Peter Brady to anyone else? Is it time to change? Porkchops & applesauce?
  • Jennifer Lawrence’s fall WAS her acceptance speech, and it was the best one of the night.
  • The FLOTUS at the Oscars? Good night.
  • Did Ben Affleck just have a nervous breakdown on stage? Riveting.
  • A closing musical number? Here’s to the losers… dedicated to this damn show.

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Tom Ford, Naked (With Tan Lines)

Andy was kind enough to give me the gift of fragrance for Valentine’s Day, and I narrowed my selection down to two of Tom Ford‘s Private Blend scents: Ombre de Hyacinth and Oud Wood. This past weekend in Boston I made the final decision, and chose the Oud Wood, filling in the seasonal fragrance gap I’ve had in Mr. Ford’s line.

Here are the Private Blends I currently have, and when I like to wear them, more or less:

  • Arabian Night ~ September
  • Amber Absolute ~ October
  • Japon Noir ~ November
  • Santal Blush ~ December/Holidays
  • Oud Wood ~ February/March
  • Neroli Portofino ~ May/June/July
  • Lavender Palm ~ July/August

Obviously there is bound to be some overlapping, and these are not strict guidelines, just general ones, as my cologne choices tend to be dictated by weather and season more than name. Additionally, the beauty of the Private Blends is that many are designed to work well in combination with each other, and it is the only cologne line that I’ve found in which this is true. (I’ve never mixed or matched anything else because it gets overpowering – which is sometimes the over-the-top point of Mr. Ford.)

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