Mrs. Franzos: December 2015

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

It's probably about time on this blog that I fessed up on a few things. I've been holding out on you and I'm sorry. Confession number 1. I'm just not feeling it this Christmas season. Confession number 2. I've had a secret style icon #wcw since last Christmas. Confession Number 3. I've entered into my first style blogger collaboration with local Pittsburgh, online boutique The Black Pussycat.

Confession number 3 is less of a confession and more of an exciting honor, but still there is some responsibility on my part. Responsibility to not deceive my readers that I would do or say anything just to receive a free dress and responsibility to the good will and faith entrusted in me by this company. The Black Pussycat is a great company, so it's not difficult. But responsibility makes me uneasy because I never want to let anyone down, but this opportunity happened to catch me at a weird point where I'm associating things, as in personal property with responsibility.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

This Holly Jolly season finds me in an ambivalent mood. I'm tired. I'm throwing out the 2nd half of my book outline and starting over. (This stresses me out). I'm burnt out. I need a vacation. Sue me. But hey, if by chance you feel like me and Peter Frampton do, it's okay. But I will tell you a little secret I've learned over the years -- Sometimes if you smile when you don't feel like smiling, you fool yourself into a good mood in the process. So here's me wearing a mask with a subdued Christmas grin on. Which brings me to my timeless, effortless and rugged Christmas style icon, my "#wcw"--that's wraith crush wednesday, thank you. And by golly, yes, How did you know? It IS the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, as Charles Dickens brought to after-life in the classic tale of A Christmas Carol:

"The phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came near hm [sic], Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form and left nothing of it visible safe one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded....But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him."

We've all seen the various incarnations and adaptations of the Christmas Carol. And the ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is always outfitted the same. I honestly can't think of a fictional character that's even more timelessly dressed than Coco Chanel. Can you? (let me know in the comments). Anyway, I too want to inspire mystery and thrill people.

I've been quietly cultivating an increasingly "rugged" aesthetic. I like imperfect things. Things that already come to me looking tattered and scuffed. Things that have holes, pulled threads and weird stains...It takes the responsibility of keeping it pristine off of me. I don't like responsibility. I already mentioned that. I bought, pretty much, the entire collection of H&M Divided Gray in August because it looks like it was inspired by guttersnipes and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Italian brand Mas Nada also gives me that warm, cozy, rugged, less responsibility feeling. This makes me something of an anomoly in the glossy fashion blogosphere. If you couldn't tell, sometimes this carefully curated fantasy world of selling the latest, newest, shiniest stuff just doesn't sit so well with me, and yet I am very much a part of it. But like Andy Warhol, I too, like to watch. There's a garishness to fashion and Christmas that delights the eyes. Being a voyeur is hardly concerning, it's when you start to exhibit that a conscious develops. Which brings me back to my third confession. I've been offered collaborations before and they didn't feel right. But this felt different, even with my growing fashion conscious.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Denise Edwards, the owner of The Black Pussycat boutique reached out to me and I happily agreed to meet her for a drink.While her online boutique is a fledgling with limited stock at this point, I'd like to say that I saw an earnestness and a carefully curated selection with thoughtfulness through out. I could read deliberate consideration between the lines and knew that I wanted in on the ground floor. When I met her in person, I already knew that I would like her immediately, and I was not disappointed. We talked about our respective times in Manhattan, fashion, life, marketing, red wine, art, film, capsule wardrobes, sustainability--we could've talked for hours. I look forward to talking and sharing a bottle of red with her in the future. But the dress. I chose a pencil dress from her boutique because I knew it would flatter my athletic frame. It was also grey and I knew that I would wear it often. She called it the "Eyes Wide Shut" dress and talked about how she saw it relating to the 1999 Stanley Kubrick movie of the same name. The dress being prim and business like up front, but giving a glimpse of a woman's sexuality at the back. Denise understands perfectly, the powerful and subtle nature of the clothes we wear.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

The last time I saw Eyes Wide Shut was 1999. I was 19 and clueless, so I felt compelled to re-watch the film. (It's on netflix btw.) So I re-watched it. I was surprised to see Christmas trees and decorations everywhere through out. I didn't remember that. I remembered the quasi-religious orgy in a beautiful mansion. The beautiful, bare breasts of sex workers in Venetian masks and black G-strings. I remember Nicole Kidman being stunning to look at. I didn't remember the subtle nuances of the marriage or the annoying dialogue. It is a beautiful film, but it is painful to hear both Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman repeat back any question that is asked them--that reason alone is enough to inspire ultra violence in me. I would watch it again for the cinematography, but I would mute it and put on Dark Side of the Moon.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

The film disturbed me. I wasn't bothered by the voyeurism, exhibition, the sexuality or almost infidelities. Instead, I find my thoughts always going back to Kubrick's usage of Christmas symbolism. I didn't have to dig too deep within myself to undercover why. The lighting was garish and there was no mirth. The decorations only seemed to be a way to break up the long months of winter and were another reason to put yet another gilt framed painting on the already crowded wall of the couple's Manhattan apartment. Christmas and desire, were so closely intertwined in the film. Always, mechanically, promising more than they can deliver. Nothing is without responsibility, without consequence. Choose wisely.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I'm a bad blogger. I didn't make a gift guide. I didn't participate in Black Friday, or Shop Local Saturday, or even Cyber Monday. I did participate in Giving Tuesday. I'll probably pay full price for a handful of small token gifts at the liquor store at the last minute. On the morning of December 25th, I'll be helping my husband take photos of hundreds of Christmas day volunteers around the city of Pittsburgh. I'll hand Mr. Franzos different lenses when he needs them, give a hand as a volunteer when needed, but mostly I'll be watching. I like to watch people and entire families give of themselves and their time. I won't be wearing my Christmas grin mask then, I'll be smiling for real.