Monday, January 16, 2006

Of Kors, My Dear

Michael Kors.

Utter his name and visions of the rich and shameless, jet-setting St. Barts/St.Tropez/Palm-and-South-Beach/Hamptons trustafarians and social elite come to mind. Golden tans, va-va-voom hair, private jets, yacht parties, white Eres bikinis, jewelled wedges, and an obscenely high limit credit card -- maybe even an AmEx Black Centurion to boot.

Last spring and summer seasons, I burned up the internet trying to score either an authentic pair of MK (not Olsen, kids) turquoise-jewelled wedges or a really, really, really great knock-off set. The closest I came to was a design by Michael Antonio, but truth was I wanted the real thing. And couldn't find it. Now Kors' jewelled wedge idea is everywhere, thus devaluing the style and making me glad I saved the dinero. Besides, only Carmen Kass has the bronzed gams to make the shoes look THAT freakin' hot.

But good, old Michael has a couple gems from his Spring/Summer 2006 ready-to-wear collection that make up for my shoe search blues:

Ah, the life of modern day jet-setters. Think Liz Hurley and Fabian Basabe, except more of them. And minus the Estee Lauder modelling contract and La Perla heiress wifey.

I'm Lovin' it: Flipping out my hair ends, seventies-style. But don't become all flip-Nazi like Madonna is these days. Think Farrah Fawcett. And Jackie Burkhart from That 70s Show.

I'm Over it: Cowboy boots. Los Angeles is not Dallas, y'all.

Track of the Day: "Cash Machine" by Hard Fi. There's a little reference to that old nursery rhyme about dear Liza and a hole in someone's pocket. Hard Fi's version is not as sing song-y, but is still majorly catchy.

* photos credited to and


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