Being fairly short of both time and funds, I just went to the mall. Exotic, I know. I'll write a proper, non-grab bag post one of these days, but for the moment:
I covet fancy boutique-y clothes, but I don't live in them; they tend to require too much care. Since junior high, I've bought a lot -- perhaps most -- of my basics from Jacob, a Montreal-based Canadian chain whose prices and quality put it roughly in league with the Gap. (Jacob even has its own Old Navy-ish offshoot, Jacob Connexion.) Jacob only put up a website quite recently, and unfortunately, it's one of those annoying websites that display garments in outfits (often hidden by a big scarf or something; how useful!) and not individually. But perhaps this selection of outfits will give you an idea of the aesthetic, or at least of how Jacob differs from the Gap: slightly more urban, a little more dressed up (except for the Connexion mannequin on the right), with a lot (a LOT) of black, always.
Over the years, I've probably owned a dozen pieces in Jacob's never-varying red, a rich-looking and almost universally flattering deep cherry. It amused me to discover that Jacob's website refers to this colour as "perfect red". My latest acquisition is the plaid shirt from Jacob Connexion (in red), faintly seventies, surprisingly soft, perhaps a little baggy (story of my life) but not unacceptably so. For the price ($38 CAD) one doesn't expect great quality, but some things I've bought at Jacob have lasted me years.
Dain suggested I look for a plum-toned eyeliner or mascara, and I have found one: MAC Fluidline in Macroviolet. Like all Fluidlines, this looks much brighter and more shimmery in the pot than it does on my face; also like other Fluidlines, it is easy to work with and stays put. Macroviolet is dark enough not to look teenage or clubby, but plummy enough to bring out green eyes: perfect.
I went to Sephora to try Shalimar again; I felt I should know what it smelled like, and the last time I sprayed it on in a department store, my immediate response was "Oh my god, this is evil." I believe that bottle had turned, because the Shalimar I smelled this weekend was the deep, mysterious lemon-and-vanilla oriental I had been led to expect. I can see why Luca Turin describes Shalimar's sillage as "black"; it's dark and smoky and, unlike many modern vanilla scents, not particularly sweet. For a smoky dark fragrance, I think I prefer the Tabac Blond extrait I got from The Perfumed Court, but Shalimar is cheaper, more consistent (word is Tabac Blond is constantly being tampered with -- bah!), and easier to find.
I have Lolita Lempicka on my other wrist as I write this and cannot make up my mind about it. Is it a marvellous, autumnal mix of roasted apples, licorice and vanilla with a warm, musky drydown, or is it just an awful, boring, cloying thing like the hundreds of other awful, boring, cloying things on the market? It appears in different guises at different moments. I may have to get another sample.
Happy thanksgiving! So glad to hear that plummy tones work so well with you—it's so easy to pair flattering shadow shades with it, too (bronze, greens, gold, peach, rose, amber, etc.)—so think of it only as a jumping off point.
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