Bonus Holiday Gift Guide: Buying Gifts For The Men Folk

I liked to give gifts when I was a kid, but I had no money. My weekly allowance would net me about $2.00 IF I did ALL my chores. But I was a slacker, so I was really only netting a $1.00/week. Which bought bupkis. So I was a resourceful little git. Gifts for my mom were easy. I could always count on my elementary school to have some sort of Christmas ornament craft involving popsicle sticks and silver glitter. Every year, she would carefully store those school-made ornaments and drag them out and decorate our tree. She ate those ornaments up. She loved them. Check that box off, Mom was done. 

Now for Dad.....Dad stumped me. Men in general stumped me. I knew nothing of their ways and habits and likes....nor did I care. Commercials in the eighties educated me on what made good gifts. Perfume for women, cologne for men, or Swatches for everyone. So I went straight for the re-gift cupboard where my Mom put perfectly good things, still in their original packaging. There were never any swatches in the re-gift cupboard. But this curated collection of un-wanted gifts...it was a godsend for indigent kids with buck a week, Now and Later habits. So, every year, on Christmas morning my poor father unwrapped the same, un-opened wooden box of English Leather cologne that I found in the re-gift closet. His initial, enthusiastic "Aww, thanks!" when I was 7, grew less and less, until finally, after an embarrassing number of years of Christmas deja vu later, nothing more could be said. He silently set good ole English Leather on the lamp table in our living room and got up to re-fill his coffee. I put English Leather back in the re-gift closet that year.

Not long after that Christmas, I became aware of men and boys and threw myself into a life-long pursuit of understanding their likes, hopes, dreams and desires. The male species fascinated me, intrigued me, excited me. I've been accepted into their social circles, been treated as one of their own, participated in various mating rituals...and can say with certainty that the male species is simultaneously complex and simple. Through rigorous study, I know that there are few gifts that guys receive that will give you the excited reaction you want from them. Guys simply do not gush over gifts like women folk do, well....they would, if you bought them a chrome Maserati, but you know, I'm sure there's a waiting list or something for that. Guys are just weird about gifts.

So, without further ado, here is a non-exhaustive and realistic list of gift-giving ideas for guys.

Gifts that never excite men: cologne. I learned this the hard way.They'd prefer not to wear cologne, but they feel obligated now that you got it for them. They'd really appreciate it if, for Christmas, next year, you developed a love for the smell of soap and water and deodorant.

Gifts that don't excite men, but they will use and use and use: underwear. Make it black. Clean underwear is a gift that keeps on giving. Make it designer and black and they will feel extra special and loved.

Gifts that don't excite men, but they need because they hate shopping: clothes. Scroll through my pictures above. Keep the words, cool, rugged, tough, slick and classic in mind when selecting clothing. If, after they open your gift, and they have a blank, and unimpressed expression on their face, just say, "for some reason, I thought of you and I thought of a porsche....so I got this pair of jeans-this sweater- this jacket-this backpack (whatever)- for you," they'll put it on and like it, but only if it really looks design-y like a Porsche.

Gifts that men don't realize they like until it shows up at their doorstep repeatedly: Pretty much any awesome "Of-the-Month" program. Bourbon of the month, Beer of the month, Wine of the month, Rootbeer of the month. Hot sauce of the month. Cheese of the month. Whatever they're into, if they get a sampling of it once a month for a stretch of time, pretty much, best gift ever. 

Gifts that men like pretty alright: books with beautiful pictures of things that they like. Furniture, meat, architecture, cars, tasteful pictures that Helmet Newton took of nude women....The book itself should look like a work of art.

Gifts that men love: doing things. Men like to do and see, as long as they don't have to plan it. Concerts, food, history, drinks, road tripping. Plan a weekend road trip to Bourbon country or your favorite music festival. Shared memories and experiences are some of the best gifts (for either sex).

Gifts that always excites any guy, any time, any where (Use this knowledge wisely and don't abuse it...because it's the ace in the hole): Kitchen knives. The nicer, the better. They will literally, rip it out of it's packaging and find something to chop, whether or not they're hungry or the thing needs chopping. Also on the subject of gifts that make guy's pupils dilate, flying drones with go-pro's on them. But let's just pretend I didn't say that. Shun and Wustof make great knives.

Your Bosom Friend In Pittsburgh, 

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Bonus Holiday Gift Guide: The Best Gifts Are The One's You LOVE, But Don't Buy For Yourself

I often page through magazines and LOVE certain things. "I LOVE those gold leather driving gloves," she said, "But, I'd NEVER buy them." Do you ever do this? Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding!!! Listen up. This is what gift-giving should be about. Give the gifts you are too scared, too reserved, too whatever your hang-up is to buy for yourself, and never look back. I mean, think about it. Why won't you buy it for yourself? Too decadent, too crazy, too lilac for your all black closet, too....too? Just give it instead. 

Gloves and scarves are one of those things that I LOVE. I love them, but I hate buying them for myself. I don't know. *Shrug* Anyway, I picked out a bunch of really cool scarves that I'd love to receive as gifts, therefore by my theory of relative giftability equation = great gifts to give. 

What is your "I LOVE those_________________, but I'd never buy them for myself"? Share it with me in the comments below and how about this year, you try giving it to those deserving of your self-denying tastes.

Your Bosom Friend In Pittsburgh, 

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Whirl Magazine 'Style File' Interview

photo courtesy of WHIRL Magazine. photo credit: Michael Fornataro

You know what feels good? A little validation. A little nod that says, people really like what you're doing. Keep it up. Atta Girl. WHIRL, Western Pennsylvania's premier lifestyle magazine (print and web) did just that. They featured me and my little blog in the November issue of WHIRL. (SQUEE!)  It was an incredible honor to be invited to the WHIRL head quarters for a photo shoot and interview for their November "Style File," where they highlight stylish Pittsburghers that caught their editorial eye. I met a lot of kind and talented people that day.  Anyway, it was a blogging milestone that makes me feel really, really good and I wanted to share my good news. You can read my quirky, WHIRL Style File interview, here.

I had a lot of fun trying to get to the bottom of my personal style philsophy with my interviewer, style editor, Liz Petoniak, but I think that's why I need fashion psychoanalysis here on the blog....because I just can't sum it up into a nice elevator pitch...but I want to.The outfit I wore for the photoshoot might be the closest I've ever come to defining my style. I added a Free People vegan leather jacket (machine washable!) and my favorite Sam Edelman corset ankle boots to my already featured summer sarong song outfit, here.  It's easy, effortless and I can wear it in spring, summer and fall. What is your feel good, punched up, go-to, YOU outfit? 

I am thankful for so many things, but blog specifically, I am thankful for the doors it has opened for me and the new people Mr. Franzos and I get to meet because of it. May the doors continue to open and old and new friends continue to linger in the thresholds.

What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving? 

Your Bosom Friend From Pittsburgh,

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The World's End Trench

"Velkommen. Bienvenue....Welcome."

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

This week's post was inspired by Simon Pegg's character, Gary King, in the movie The World's End. Yes, the charismatic alcoholic, ne'er-do-well, anti-hero. Gary King is one of the most robustly written and acted characters I've seen in a long time.Though he'd aged, Gary hadn't changed at all. Same music, same clothes.....same old Gary. The fact that he still drives the same car he drove in highschool, "the beast," further illustrates the depth of his Peter Panhood. He's a deeply flawed, seemingly tragic figure and yet, he's very, very likeable. So likeable, he talks (deftly manipulates) all his well-adjusted high school chums into a pub crawl reunion that goes very, very hysterically, awry. Honestly, the movie made my top ten the second they played Whisky Bar by The Doors. If you haven't seen it, you must. I promise you a good time, and that is something Gary King and I both agree upon: we both just want to have a good time. 

Horatio Caine pose by Me. photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Gary King and I also have similar tastes in trench coats. I have been quietly obsessing about Gary King's trench coat since the movie's release (August 2013). During the course of my research, I discovered, so have a lot of other people. Start typing, "Gary King's" and google will auto-fill for you, "Gary King's Coat." Voila. Instant icon. I decided to NOT go the authentic route, with the "German-Army-Bundeswehr-AIR-FORCE-LUFTWAFFE-sergeant-uniform-coat" (it's available on eBay), because men's clothing is too big on me and I'm *trying* to be more feminine, so that means wearing things that are tailored and fitted. I don't know how I stumbled upon the amazing coat that I'm wearing, but when I saw the jaunty collar on this Yohji Yamamoto cutaway number, I knew my search for Gary King's charisma cloak +1 was over. 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Mr. Franzos and I shot this along the bike trail in Pittsburgh, colloquially known as "the jail trail," because of its proximity to the county jail, and afterward, we grabbed some beers in the strip district. I stood amongst a picturesque grove of ginkgo trees and found myself really getting into character for this shoot. I blame the coat. It brought out my high school glory days, the inner party animal, the wannabe rock star and, er, the drunken master in me. What, don't you do karate kicks in the air after you've had a few? Well, then, you haven't truly LIVED (or partied with me).

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

The funny thing is, this coat and The World's End also made me a bit nostalgic. I miss my childhood pals. I live so far away from them. I keep up with them on facebook, but some of them, I haven't seen the whites of their eyes for fifteen years or more. We came of age and left the nest of our small hometown together. We've all entered adulthood, some of us less peacefully than others. Some of them are beautiful writers, talented artists and/or hilarious jokesters. In highschool, we were precocious little punks with civil disobedience in our blood. We had vast vocabularies that we peppered with colorful swears. We spent many a night around a campfire, up to no good, drinking gasoline booze out of plastic bottles. We solved the world's problems, and forgot all of our solutions the next day. My heart often longs to sit across the table from them and talk about wherever the mad-cap river of conversation takes us. Lately, we've been throwing around the idea of meeting up...somewhere in the middle of the mid-west, somewhere between there and Pittsburgh. We've been talking about spending our nights getting completely snockered, blotto drunk and then during the day, working through some writing workshops with epic hangovers. Why do we circle back around to the milestones we've already past? Are we hoping to pull up those markers and underneath, find a treasure trove of purpose and direction for the rest our lives? Do you revisit things and places? Is this a documented anthropological ritual? Anyway, there's something beautifully human about it all and I hope we do meet up. I know exactly what I'll wear.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
-F. Scott Fiztgerald, The Great Gatsby. 


What I wore: Trench: Yohji Yamamoto, here. Asymmetric tunic: Mossimo, here. Riding pant/tights: past season Lululemon. Boots: Palladium, here. Rock necklace: vintage. Dogtags: family heirloom. Sterling chain bracelet: vintage. Rings: vintage. Sunnies: past season, Diesel. 





Your Bosom Friend in Pittsburgh,

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Gothic Mementos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I'm the opposite of a moth; I'm attracted to darkness, it holds many mysteries, unknown. I'm a curious sort and have been as far back as I can remember. In order to keep my nose out of places it didn't belong, my mother always threatened me with the adage, "curiosity killed the cat." As a child, that just made me imagine that a giant monster killed the cat. I demanded to know more about the monster, so I could learn how to beat it, but she wouldn't tell me. (Age old wisdom parallels were clearly lost on dumb kids). All my life I've been exhilarated by fictional, supernatural terrors only to collapse back into the lightness and safety of laughter. Sometimes, supernatural terror is simply more palatable than the horrors of our personal lives. It is an escape. Everyone has their escapes from reality. For a long, long time I wanted nothing more than to escape my own life.  

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

 And so I escaped through literature. My reading preferences....predominantly dark. I adored the Byronic heroes of 18th and 19th century Gothic fiction.  Particularly, those proud, brooding, defiant characters that lingered at the precipice of self-destruction, but were capable of deep love and loyalty....if given a chance...if only they were understood and loved....Ann Radcliffe, Mary Shelley, Horace Walpole, Matthew Gregory Lewis, Bram Stoker, Charlotte Bronte, even Jane Austen, of the old ladies and gentlemen authors that have delighted me with crumbling castles, ancestral curses and secret passageways. (I just love a decaying literary setting). But my literary friends pleaded with me to read the works of living authors. So I picked up Bukowski and Thompson. But it wasn't long before they were dead too. I dug deep, I knew I'd read some living authors at some point, albeit few and far between. But you could probably guess, right?  Stephen King and Anne Rice.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I read Interview With a Vampire by Anne Rice, when I was a teenager. Oh, how I loved it and identified with Louis, the vampire. He was a lonely and immortal philosopher, doomed to walk the earth without a companion rather than keep the insufferable sadist, Lestat, by his side. (Sounds like stuff a teenager would identify with, right?) A couple years ago, when the "you should read living authors" prodding started, I picked up another Anne Rice novel, The Witching Hour, and was immediately entranced with the setting of New Orleans, specifically, the garden district with it's decaying, shuttered mansions, old ironwork, mossy trees and cryptic cemeteries....it's about as Old World as you can find without leaving the US. I had to see it, experience it...so I did. Twice in two years. This most recent visit was a family visit, where our goal was to share the New Orleans experience of gulf oysters and Preservation Jazz Hall with Mr. Franzos' father. In the early morning, before the rest of our traveling companions woke, Mr. Franzos and I did a shoot in Lafayette Cemetary No. 1. It was inspired by my love for Gothic anti-heroes and Anne Rice's vampires and witches of New Orleans. Rice has a new vampire book out, Prince Lestat, just released this week. I can't wait to check it out. 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

This post was supposed to be light and easy. I just was going to talk about fashion and literature. But life and death happens. Thanks in large part to my family and my writing outlets, I'm not nearly the dark soul I used to be, but I still have my moments. These past couple weeks for instance, they have been difficult for Mr. Franzos and I. We lost someone very important to us, Josh's Dad, (my father-in-law), Stan Franzos. He had an amazing, fascinating and rich life with a beautiful companion that he shared all but the last two years with. Stan and his muse, Dolly, were my inspiration behind this blog, because I see shades of Josh and I in their love story. But here's one of the most beautiful things about this sad event....Stan died on the 2nd anniversary of his wife's death. The. Very. Same. Day. With the same romance and pentameter as a 19th century poet. 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

 It is a long-standing, New Orleans tradition to honor the dead and revere their resting places on November 1st, All Saints Day, when according to the liturgical calendar, their souls ascend to Heaven. I don't know what happens after we die, but I know this much, the loved ones we lost do live on in us, if we let them come marching in. 

          Oh, when the stars fall from the sky
          Oh, when the stars fall from the sky
          I want to be in that number
          When the saints go marching in.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

What I wore: White blouse: past season, Anne Fontaine. Waistcoat: past season, Masnada. One of my new, favorite brands! Earrings: Baublebar, here. Skirt: vintage, Thierry Mugler. Shoes: past season, Casedei.

Your Bosom Friend From Pittsburgh,

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How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Start Loving Elastic Waistband Pants, Which Are The Bomb

 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I've lived in Pittsburgh for eleven years now. Although I've developed an acute case of civic pride, I can never be a real Pittsburgher, as I'm indifferent to televised sports. Good for the Steelers, the Pirates and the Penguins, but my blood runs red, not black and gold. As a child, I hated airplanes and flying, but I loved airports and watching the people in them. My brain worked over time as I tried to make out a person's character based on how they dressed and presented themselves to the world. Short stories cropped up in my mind and entertained me through many a flight delay. With my little face perched on my hands and my legs swinging from my gate side seat, I observed the hustle and bustle of airport terminals like a tennis match. Business men and women dressed in suits. Europeans wore black leather jackets and fancy sunglasses. Flight attendants were called stewardesses back then; they wore lots of make-up and fussy silk scarves. I miss the days when people dressed up for travel, but I understand. Air travel is a sordid business now. My stomach lurches every time I forget socks and have to shuffle through the security line barefoot, positive I'll contract plantar warts, or worse.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Traveling in the 21st century has neutered our sense of style in favor of comfort (on the plane) and function (of getting through security lines). What is the point of dressing up to travel? We have to take our shoes, belts, jackets, watches and jewelry off. We worry about leaving something behind. Sometimes we do. Sometimes we have to assist the other younger, older, sicker people we are traveling with. It's just easier to wear less and forgo belts and extraneous accessories. Yes, we understand these precautionary measures are in place to secure our safety, but it's still stressful. There is an internal countdown for when the plane leaves. The seats on the plane are narrower, the rows are cramped, closer together than ever before. It is uncomfortable. Babies just do what we all wish we could do, scream at the top of our lungs for being massively inconvenienced. Though I long for the romantic Humphrey Bogart steamer-trunk era of travel, when men and women wore suits and chapeaus, I understand the threats of terrorism and the airline's struggle for viability. Here in lies the reason why elastic waist band pants and socks with sandals have become de rigueur. There's a saying while traveling, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." I'd like to amend that with, When in an airport, wear stretch pants. Fashion blogger. Stretch pants. Fatal system error, right? No, seriously, I'm not talking about your Grandma's stretch pants. I've developed my own version of an air travel uniform that includes elastic waistband pants and I think it looks so cool, I want to wear it all the time. I want to be this cool, world-wise traveler all the time!

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

 In his essay, The Philosophy of Travel, George Santayana wrote, "We need sometimes to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard, in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what." Perhaps we travel to experience new and interesting things or to revisit something we once knew. We  might  travel to feel a sense of wonder and bigness of the world but are often reminded just how small it really is. We travel for that personally significant moment and we will accept the massive inconvenience and discomforts of air travel as a matter of course. The important thing is we are moving and as an object in motion, we will gather no moss. 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

 Mr. Franzos and I got off the plane and checked in to the Sully Mansion Bed and Breakfast, in the gorgeous garden district of New Orleans. Instead of taking off our shoes and socks, walking barefoot on the carpet of our room and making fists with our toes (I hear it's better than a shower and cup of coffee after a flight. Thanks Die Hard!), we immediately headed to the New Orleans Botanical Gardens. We checked our mental baggage at the Japanese garden and got into the vacation mindset for a long, oyster-y, bourbon-y weekend in the Big Easy. There is an uncanny duality between the idealized, natural space of a garden and the act of travel. When we travel, we long for the comforts of home, but also want for things that are not home at all. Serenella Iovino writes, "the garden most of all represents the human aspiration to harmoniously live inside nature and, at the same time, to morally and culturally step outside her."* We are humans, we want it all and yet we don't. So in the tradition of the never-ending human dichotomy, we morally and culturally, stepped out of the zen garden to see what debauchery we could find on Bourbon Street. Follow my blog with Bloglovin


*Iovino, Serenella. Universita di Torino. "Redeeming Nature? The Garden As A Moral Space." Awesome article. Read it here.

What I wore: Vest and Tank: past season, Angelos Frentzos. Crop Pants: past season, Free People. Boots: past season Jeffrey Campbell, roscoe cut-out boot. Necklace: 1976 Magic Pyramid Talisman Guild Necklace, vintage. Bracelet: vintage.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Your bosom friend from Pittsburgh,

...In Bed with Mrs. Franzos

Photo credit: Joshua Franzos

It is a popular American custom to eat Chinese take-out and end our fortune cookie parchments of wisdom with the phrase, "in bed." Hilarity ensues when a state-the-obvious fortune would normally leave us unfulfilled or rolling our eyes. This week on Mrs. Franzos blog, I've been challenged by the lovely Melody Sours of Blingaholic88 Blog, to give up thirty random, hilarious and freaky facts about myself. Yes, thirty. So to make this less tedious. I urge you dear reader, to mentally add the phrase "in leather pants" at the end of every fact I proffer.

1. The last thing I googled was, "why do my ice cubes taste like old people ice cubes?"
2. I used to collect Victorian post-mortem photos. Don't judge me.
3. A donkey tied me to a tree once. He was evil donkey with a mustache. If there had been a train track, he would've tied me to that. Just kidding, he didn't have a mustache.
4. I had my first raw oyster at age 30 and haven't stopped since.
5. I used to be an improv comedian.
6. I can drink a man under the table.
7. I consider myself a feminist.
8. I talk like a sailor.
9. I collect books. I have one old tome from the 1600's, It's called the Book of Martyrs and it has some crazy etchings of people burning on stakes.
10. I was born in California, but like the Johnny Cash song goes, I've been everywhere man.

    

    photo credit: Joshua Franzos

11. I am writing my first novel.
12. Karoake terrifies me. Literally. But I have one song I could do, if a life depended on it and no one will ever know it because that scenario will never happen.
13. I have been in one fist fight. 
14. I can appraise antiques, jewelry, fine art, furniture. I have made a lot of money on the ignorance of stand-up organizations like Goodwill and Salvation Army. I am a jerk.
15. Oxford commas bother me.
16. I have been gluten free for four years.
17. Cops and security guards love me for some reason.
18. I detest books written in the present tense, unless they're Choose Your Own Adventure.
19. I have played Dungeons and Dragons and liked it.
20. I made a pregnant woman cry this week. On purpose. She dared me to. Don't judge me.

    

    photo credit: Joshua Franzos

21. I have a jack ass terrier. No, I didn't mean Jack Russell. I meant jack ass. He's a Jack Ass Terrier named Lando and I love him.
22. I have actually used an algebraic equation in an office setting, twice.
23. I am obsessed with finding white rabbits in the world. They're rare, but not so rare.
24. The longest time I've gone without vomiting, 10 years. I hope to beat that record.
25. I was raised by Born Again Christians that forced me to watch The Thief In The Night Series, ala A Clockwork Orange Style....when I was 9. Sort of not kidding.
26. I learned how to play the piano out of a Liberace piano playbook. Beautiful Dreamer was my go-to song when I was 10.
27. I have completely forgotten how to play the piano and Beautiful Dreamer.
28. I was on 29th street during 9/11.
29. If you like something that I own, I'm talking like, A LOT.  And you tell me this, on multiple occasions, I'll probably just give it to you. To date, I've given away one amazing grommet purse and one taxidermied albino Cobra.
30. And lastly, I still love and don leather pants even though my tenth grade algebra teacher said, "Those leather pants you wear really turn me on" and an old boss said, "You can't wear leather pants around dirty old men like me!" Never let anyone ruin a good thing.
    

    

    photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Mr. Franzos and I traveled to Swissvale, an east end borough of Pittsburgh to try out a new ring flash. We are both pleased with it, but I didn't know that until later. I was dancing (including the sprinkler) because I love my new leather pants. Actually, here's the coolest thing about the leather pants. They're not leather. They're "Vegan Leather." They look and feel like leather and, wait for it......they're completely machine washable! I styled the Free People "quilted vegan skinnies" pretty simply because I wanted the pants to do all the talking. I paired it with an Old Navy t-shirt, Yves Saint Laurent gunmetal heels and a cheap gunmetal chain bracelet. That's it.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I want to take this opportunity to thank Melody for tagging me in the 30 facts challenge, read her 30 facts here. In classic chain letter fashion, I'd like to tag a couple of other bloggers that have caught my attention in my brief time in the fashion blogosphere. They are seriously great and you should check them out. Caroline of Pardon My Obsession and Carelia of My Small Wardrobe. Ladies, if you are reading you can accept the challenge or not. No pressure. Just a shout out that I enjoy reading your blogs and look forward to your outfits. Follow my blog with Bloglovin

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

What I wore: T-shirt: Old Navy, On Sale Here. Motorcycle pants: Free People, Here. Heels: Yves Saint Laurent, vintage. Similar $ and here $. Bracelet: vintage. Similar.

 

Your bosom friend from Pittsburgh,

Invisibility Jeans

 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Slowly, but surely the crisp and unmistakable smell of autumn grows stronger every day. The excitement of a new semester and budding, young minds is palpable. There's harvest moons, fashion collections, Pumpkin Juice, Butter Beer...September is a month ripe with anticipation and magic. 
 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Hot days, cool nights, amorous crickets...the imminence of fall is positively burgeoning, but it's not quite here yet. So we wait like happy children enjoying the remains of the summer before the cold, harsh reality of that season,we dare not speak its name, returns. But that's later and I, for one, am living in the now. I'm also living in these things called, boyfriend jeans. They've been here for at least three years and the trend shows no signs of letting up. Women be loving their boyfriend jeans. Since I consider myself something of a fashion anthropologist, do you mind if we dissect boyfriend jeans a bit? 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Boyfriend jeans. 

Awwww! He thinks I look so cute when I cover up my nubile body with his shapeless clothing! Yeah, those boyfriend jeans. But of course, they aren't his jeans. It's just a cutesy marketing term that invokes male approval to sell short, easy-fit jeans to women. For the record, he doesn't approve of them. In fact, he doesn't even know they exist.

"Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

 "It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is--try it on."

Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell. "It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him. Just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the Cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely" (201, Rowling, J.K., Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone).

Boyfriend jeans are the muggle term for invisibility jeans. Yes. Ladies, your boyfriend jeans are in fact cleverly disguised magical artifacts. I did some research. They are woven with the hair of a female demiguise which renders the wearer invisible to the opposite sex. Isn't that cool? Just think of the things we can accomplish without the male gaze. Like...we can sneak around Hogwarts at night and look at the books in the restricted section. Or walk down the street without getting harassed and catcalled by complete strangers.The possibilities are endless really. 

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Mr. Franzos and I went down to the Point State Park portal bridge to shoot these photos. He pointed the camera in the direction of my voice. I think they turned out pretty well considering he couldn't see me in my magic jeans. I wore a cross hatch print cardigan over a cool shirt from Mossimo, which I like because it looks like a rusty old garage rag. I topped off the Ann Taylor Loft invisibility jeans with a ponyhair leopard print belt because I love to complicate things by mixing prints and patterns together. This look is a variation of my weekend writing uniform. I added these gamine Chanel mary jane flats, these fantastic two-tone Ray-Ban sunnies and my every single day Prada purse. I like this purse because it's small yet my kindle fits inside, it's easy to clean if it gets dirty, and it also fits in my laptop backpack like a jettison pack. If you've been following this blog, you may have noticed that most of my outfit posts don't include handbags. This is because I have commitment issues with handbags in general, but I also take my Timbuk2 laptop backpack where ever I go. I chip away at my novel during any two spare moments that I can string together. My back pack and jettison purse combo ruins my outfits on a daily basis, but that's okay because I'm really more of shoe person anyway. Tell me about your adventures in invisibility jeans in the comments below!

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

What I wore: Cardigan: Ann Taylor Loft, past season. Top: Mossimo, past season. Boyfriend Jeans: Ann Taylor Loft, here. Leopard Belt: Express, here. Flats: Chanel, past season. Bag: Prada, here. Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Your Bosom Friend From Pittsburgh,