check THOSE pants out...

...Stringer Bell lives on at Pitti Uomo!...and how. 

I just finished watching the pivotal third season of "The Wire" and I burst into tears at Bell's assasination. I mean, a man that beautiful, that intelligent...McNulty was right: He had no idea who this guy was.

I wish I did, though.

ALL about TON

A hard (but cold) fact in street style photography? Seemingly newcomer, Tommy Ton, the man behind the blog Jak and Jil, has beat The Sartorialist's, Scott Schuman, at his own game.

Not to say there is no place for Schuman at the proverbial dinner table anymore--hardly--but how All About Eve of Ton to snag the honor of snapping pics for GQ and Style.com at the shows these past few seasons, no? Especially since Schuman essentially created the id of street style photographer celeb. I had the opportunity to be shot by Schuman and interview him a few years back, and I was so blown away by the man's openness and warmth. He's a mid-western boy who was inspired by Helmut Newton, and ironically shies from having his own picture taken. I told him it's probably because he's a Scorpio. 

I will say that Ton has such a great eye for details, however. He's drawn to the little touches, the small nuances that complete a look or a persona. He's into texture, colors, prints in such a fun and unexpected way, that it forces one to examine the whole picture. 

He'll zero in on the metal closure of a Celine satchel, the shine and luster of a Rolex oyster, the sheen from one's sunglasses, the whipping of a model's locks, the crisp fabric of a lapel. It's all very lush, all very glossy in its appeal, and in a way, narrative. Ton helps craft stories and identities, does he not? Even if they are short stories.

Ton (and street photography generally) is also very much apart of this larger discussion in fashion at the moment, what with the viral immediacy of fashion and trends due to social media, that it is so much about what you like rather than what you're like. In a way these photographs are sources of inspiration (just look at Julia Sarr Ramois in Christoper Kane and Prada, below), but also so much about crafting a brand (see Anna Della Russo, above). A street photography darling can be a muse within minutes. One's outfit can launch a proverbial thousand ships around an editor, a model, a blogger.

It's seemingly the stuff that makes Tom Ford shudder (and me to a certain extent), but even this too shall pass. We'll be on to the next style wave and phenom in no time. 

I just wonder who will be documenting it all??

**All photos courtesy of Tommy Ton**

HERIMONE GRANGER on my ALMA MATER

When news dropped that the lovely July 2011 Vogue covergirl Emma Watson was leaving Brown University due to reports of "bullying", I was a little shocked. In my heyday, celeb classmates were treated little less than demigods. A hush would fall over the crowd whenever one would roll up to the Rock library or to a houseparty, and a weird feeling of awe, respect, and resentment would boil up inside of you.

Leelee Sobieski was the celeb du jour at that time, and she ran that campus with her elusive, oddball nature. All the "New York kids" wanted to be her friends, she wanted to date my French boyfriend, and I was generally not amused. But after actually hanging with her a few times, I found she was really quite sweet, charming, quirky as f*ck, but ultimately lovely. She, like Emma, did not complete her studies at Brown--but that was too be expected. There were flops to be filmed, rock stars to date, missteps in her career to be made.

Emma is a different story, though.

After reading her Vogue article, I found her to be refreshingly sensitive: a young ingenue on the brink of self-discovery who should have easily found a home amidst the angst and reverie of my dear alma mater. I just find it hard to believe that Emma couldn't find a friend on that campus after saying things like this: "One of [Emma's] favorite classes at Brown was on the psychology of love. Far from being put off the idea, she remains an incurable romantic: 'I'm a feminist, but I think what people connect with in novels is the idea of an overpowering, encompassing love--and it being more important and special than anything and everything else."


I mean, for crying out loud, the girl is a self-declared feminist, her favorite class was the psychology of love, and she's complaining that she couldn't find a date on that campus?! Sounds like a typical Brown co-ed to me. She just needed an adorable but emotionally unavailable boyfriend in the MCM department, a class at R.I.S.D., and an invite to an electronic music show on a Friday night, and I think she would have been fine.

In my humble opinion, I think she should give Brown another college try.

The ARTS & LEISURE section

Blame it on my Ivy League education, but I'm a bookworm with the wardrobe of a fashion geek. Any day you can either find me with my nose stuck in a book, or my tail in a dressing room. I think it keeps me balanced this way.

The following is what I'm reading, listening to, and debating with my fellow bluestockings.

WHAT I'M READING...
"OPEN CITY" by TEJU COLE
Cole, a Nigerian born scribe and NYT darling, is responsible for one of this year's most celebrated books, and even more remarkably shares an uncanny resemblance to rapper, Mos Def, that makes you go "hmmmm". Following the solitary but incredibly introspective life and walks of Julius, a Nigerian-born psychologist, around the electrifying streets of New York, "Open City" unearths a locale that is often hidden even to its residents. Cole's poised, elegant, and almost hesitant language, tells a sprawling story of a man's life that stretches across two continents, several cities, and much unspoken pain.

"MALCOM X: A LIFE OF REINVENTION" by Manning Marable
The last work of my former mentor, I know all too well the significance this book has had on many lives. Malcolm X is a hero, and Manning Marable is a saving grace, so it's taken me a while to plow through. A devastating blow personally, but a triumph for history.

WHAT I'M LISTENING TO...
"Mama's Boyfriend" :: Kanye West
"The Birds (Part 1)" :: The Weeknd
"Marvin's Room" :: Drake
House of Balloons :: The Weeknd
"nature feels" :: Frank Ocean
"Glory Box" :: Portishead
"June" :: Van Hunt
"Say You Will | U R The One" :: Mos Def
"Do You Mind?" :: XX
"Dog Days Are Over" :: Florence + The Machine
"Tell Me Why" :: M.I.A.

WHAT I'M ATTENDING...
Kara Walker, "Fall Frum Grace, Miss Pipi's Blue Tale" :: Lehmann Maupin Gallery, NYC
A small and intimate affair, Walker again crafts an engaging, creative, and subversive world set against the backdrop of antebellum South. Puppets are her stars this go around in this seventeen minute video, and each character is entangled in a (sadly) historical conflation of sex, race, power, and violence. I watched it twice, mesmerized. 

Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty :: Metropolitan Museum, NYC
Everyday I wear a knuckleduster of a cocktail ring on my right index finger, its bedazzled gold skull gleaming out at the world, with a bumblebee askew on its head. It always incites questions and stares, and at this point is so much apart of my daily life, that I often forget its almost menacing but mostly comical appearance. It's McQueen and therefore, it makes sense (at least to me): that dark beauty and glamour mixed with the everyday. I will traverse through the crowds, the lines, and the out-of-towners pushing up on me to simply take a look at this man's legacy.

Rooftop bars :: NYC metropolitan area
Any one will do, as the relentless New York summer heat makes me none too particular, but I did like the view from Jimmy, the James Hotel's spot, and I definitely want to see what the Dream Downtown is looking like. It's always a wonderful thing to gaze upon this fair city, as if you're above it all.

WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT...
* Brooklyn rent. It's often higher than you think, but no: I won't be revealing how much I actually pay.
* Andrew Weiner's wife, Huma Abedin, who in 2008 was voted one of Vogue's Best Dressed. Perhaps one of the most impossibly elegant women I have ever seen, it's a shame her man was besieged by his own insecurities.
*NBA World Champions, the Dallas Mavericks. As a Dallas-native, the week has had a certain auspicious air about it, like I could tell anyone to essentially suck it.
*Hermes bags and the culture that surrounds them. It's thick with tradition, codes, and insider knowledge: the stuff that fashion is made of.

LADYPANTS, I Like THOSE pants!

What? Isn't this like the second pair of bells that Solange has rocked in a mere week that I have coveted?! I believe so. Love the jewel-toned color palette, and my long-torso self is a sucker for high-waisted anything. My former client should be sharing her style secrets.

LaNVIN Resort 2012

Those pesky turbans aside, Alber has captivated my heart yet again. My clients (and especially me) will be needing the following for romps in Capri, St. Tropez, and Bed Stuy, respectively. I love a good jumpsuit, and each piece seems to tell a story of glamour, gloss, texture, and movement.

I immediately see myself emerging at daybreak from an all-night party, a champers magnum in one hand, and my dancing partner in the other. As my creme jersey jumpsuit ripples in the morning breeze, I giggle towards an awaiting cab, the driver disgruntled he's gotta drive to Brooklyn. "It's the law!" I scream at him, as I wave good-night to my hostess and slip into the back. Off I go....

Where do I pre-order?

this is LUXURY?!: the fall of customer service

...When I say I had a "Pretty Woman" moment yesterday at an UES luxury boutique that nearly knocked me on my feet, I do so without a hint of irony. Save for the fact that I'm no hooker, just a personal shopper with a heart of gold, who is just trying to do her hustle, I was essentially shown the door.

So imagine it: me in my finest duds, my hair coiffed, giving off an edgy, stylish, but young spirit, all whilst keeping balance on my six-inch platform pumps. The doors to the tony boutique fly open with the help of a strapping Dominican male youth, who smirks just a little too hard at your girl, and I begin my search for a customer care rep. Any rep will do.

Well, no one emerges. No one barely looks in my direction for that matter and considering I came all the way from Brooklyn, and my client wants this bag like NOW, someone's gonna have to give. Finally, I spot a fellow "sister from another mister" who may just do me the kindness of talking to me. She does...but with total resignation and resentment.

I ask her about the style of bag my client is dying for, and she basically tells me to keep dreaming. It ain't happening. No. Nada. Ever. And no, she won't call me to tell if it comes back into stock...and no I can't call other stores to see if this style is available. Special orders? Forget it. Reserved for the best clients, and management would hardly consider the style my customer is after "special." Ugh!

INNER MONOLOGUE:
Ladypants, listen here: I have worked for (and still do!) for some of the flyest women in the world, and I can tell you I did so with a smile, a real sense of urgency, pride, and passion you simply didn't deign to bring to this conversation. Luxury service is dying, and essentially at the hands of hapless "fashion professionals" like yourself! And how backwards of me to think that another woman of color would help me specifically because we share an inherited racial legacy. How silly of me to think I could bring you business, and vice versa. Tsk, tsk.

So after I gave her a good Bed Stuy eye-roll, I exited swiftly and called my Brazilian contact. She puts me in touch with a close confidant at a West Coast location of the same boutique. Within 20 minutes, I am having a fun and lovely conversation with a customer sales rep who is more than willing to go the extra mile for me, and help me with this Special Order.

Well, well, well...the difference 20 minutes can make? As Christian Louboutin said himself in Dana Thomas' masterpiece, Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster, "Luxury is the possibility to stay to close to your customers, and do things that you know they will love. It's about subtlety and details. It's about service. I cannot accept a place where people are badly received. I can't imagine spending several thousand dollars on something and the salesclerk gets annoyed because you take fifteen minutes to look. Luxury is not consumerism. It is educating the eyes to see that special quality."

Of course Christian gets it. That's why the man rules designer footwear. For me, luxury customer service has meant working hard, yes, but also being proactive. You become almost intuitive to the wants and needs of your clients, and think about the endless scenarios and the productive solutions to them all. You're willing to make the effort to ensure your clients don't lift a finger. And the best part? You develop friendships with them: you become a close confidant, you gain their trust, and wind up knowing things about their lives perhaps their closest friends don't (I mean, you do know their true shoe size).

So yes, I'll be taking my business elsewhere, but dang, I wish I could come upon that woman soon and say, "Do you remember me from the other day? Do you work on commission? Huge mistake...HUGE!"