The Right Stuff

New Kids On The Block. In gold heart earrings. For $9. I am so happy right now.

fredflare.com (the greatest website in the world, by the way)

Not Your Daughter's Fashion

It is time to acknowledge and celebrate my readers who are past the sequined minidress stage of their life. Not everyone who reads this blog is a fashion-crazy teen or twenty-year-old, and therefore this post (and many others to come in the future) goes out to all the lovely ladies who maybe don't share Martin's taste for all sequins all the time (or just want to see something they can realistically wear to the grocery store).

Today we shall focus on jeans. I hate shopping for jeans more than I hate getting my foot stuck in the steering wheel while driving in heavy traffic, not that that's ever happened to me. I think most women feel this way, as there are so many choices, not much guidance, and trying on the wrong fit or size can make you look like a muffin and that's not good for anyone's self esteem.

Before we talk about good jeans, let's talk about the bad. Ladies, it seems that every generation before mine has a troubling fixation with tapered jeans (lord knows my generation has its vices too--anyone want to talk about short shorts and velour trackpants with "Juicy" or "Hottie" written across the ass? No? Okay). Maybe you've seen the makeover shows where normal women are instantly transformed into Elle Macpherson lookalikes solely by switching their tapered jeans to bootcut. Maybe you've remained in denial, as my own mother did for way too long until she finally saw the light, threw out her massive cache of tapered Calvin Kleins and became a happy, passionate, and totally hot convert to the Good News that is bootcut. As I noted before in my own cautionary tale about skinny jeans, this is the horror of the tapered "mom jeans":


If you think you're ready to make the conversion, you'll need to be turned away by a rabbi three times (just kidding! Finding hot jeans is way easier than becoming a Jew), and then go to the store and look for bootcut jeans. My mom had no idea how to identify bootcut jeans when she first entered the brave new world of non-1980's denim, but usually it will say the cut somewhere on the tag, and if not, you're looking for a bit of a flare at the bottom. You can find this style everywhere in every brand, from Levi's to Calvin to Gloria Vanderbilt, but if you want to make a bit of an investment that you won't regret, allow me to introduce the succinctly named Not Your Daughter's Jeans:

These are "mom jeans" in the long-forgotten good sense of the word. They're made of premium denim, with a higher rise to avoid the muffin effect, and have a "Tummy Tuck" feature: "an exclusive crisscross weave to slim the tummy and shape the rear." Who can refuse an offer like that?
Not Your Daughter's Jeans Tummy Tuck Stretch Jeans (also in petite and plus and many different colors and styles), $88, Nordstrom

For a more casual ensemble, just add one of the few things from J. Crew that normal people can still afford:

Perfect-fit long-sleeve crewneck tee, 22.50

And an amazing necklace:

Eliza necklace, Agapantha, $108, girlshop.com

Or for a little dressier look, try this shirt:

God it's pretty, isn't it? It's perfect for any age. Even if you just like it a little, go to the website and check out a bigger picture for the details, and then I swear you'll love it.
BCBGirls "Jennifer" shirt, $58, nordstrom.com

And finally, these shoes are the fabulous, comfy, and amazingly cheap grand finale to both casual and dressy outfits:

Don't they look expensive?
Jeri flats, $29, delias.com

More to come!

Maybe just don't read this if you haven't seen The Little Mermaid

So, remember a few posts back when I made that little jab about the $1000 Gucci boots that Saks had to put a monthly limit on because apparently women were buying more than three pairs every thirty days instead of using the money to end world hunger? Well, these are them. And they're on sale (Saks' idea of a pat-ourselves-on-the-back-because-we've-finally-made-our-
wares-available-to-the-peasants sale is dropping the price from $1100 to $800, but still.)

These boots are so incredible that if I were in the ocean sitting on a rock crying after my dad said I could never have them and destroyed my giant sculpture dedicated to them with his electrified triton and then two scary eels came in and lead me to the Sea Witch who sang me a really persuasive song and said I could totally have the incredible Gucci boots if I just gave up my voice forever, I would definitely say "fuck yeah!" in a fit of impulsiveness. And then I wouldn't say anything else. Forever. Yeah, big oops there.

After that spiel, I probably need to apologize to anyone who hasn't seen The Little Mermaid (I warned you), and anyone who appreciates appropriate comma usage (I should have had a run-on sentence alert up there as well). I'm so sorry for your confusion/migraine. Go have some tea. I'm going to continue yearning.

p.s. I've gotten some fantastic entries for the Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza so far, but if you haven't entered yet, there's still time. Hit me with your best shot: daddylikeyblog@gmail.com

Well, I'm back.

I put in my two weeks notice awhile ago after I saw that fur post (I happen to be Team Britney), but then we had a talk and Winona let me eat this big spider she found in her bathtub and, long story short, Martin is back in town and better than ever, baby!

Even raccoons know it's the season of holiday parties, and if I were to go to one instead of eating garbage in an alley next to one, I would wear this:


XOXO,
Martin


serpent dress, french connection, fcusbuymail.com, $198

Almost Subtle

When I first saw these necklaces, I was so proud of myself for finally being attracted to something subtle, but then I looked at the picture of them on a model, and they're actually kind of huge, and I guess I haven't changed. Still, these necklaces are fabulous. They have random little engravings on the front--an owl, or swords, or a coyote--and a mirror on the back for applying lip gloss or pretending to apply lip gloss but actually holding the mirror up to confirm your enemy's position if you're an assassin. Now that's what I look for in a necklace.

Pretty Little Thing Large Mirrored Heart Pendant, Ravinstyle.com, $104.

Fashion Humane Society: Adopt This Dress

Ambika over at one of my favorite blogs, The Fray, just mentioned an online store called Posh Girl Vintage in one of her posts. Being a lover of vintage who has been unable to go thrift or vintage shopping for nearly four months now (there is one questionable-smelling Salvation Army near me and that's it), suffering daily without the aid of a Nicorette-style patch for thrift shopping withdrawals (by the way, if someone finally decides to invent that, it should be Pucci print), I visited the site and immediately fell in love with basically everything they carry.

I fell most in love with this dress, a Gay Gibson from the 1940's:

When I saw it, I gasped with glee and enjoyed an instant mental montage of all the amazing outfits it could create: wear it with opaque black tights and black platforms, wear it as a jumper with a long-sleeve shirt underneath, wear it to a party with a big black fur swing coat, wear it with dainty high-heeled sandals and a killer up-do. It's just glorious, isn't it? The picture here doesn't even do it justice; look at it here.

This dress is both so perfect and so not my size that it has sparked a new feature here at Daddy Likey: the Fashion Humane Society. Every once in a while, when I come across an amazing, one-of-a-kind vintage item that I can't adopt myself, I will advertise it here and hopefully someone will take it in and give it the love it deserves.

If any of you lovely readers are a size 0-2 and have an extra $165 laying around or a glaring void in your Christmas list, I urge you to buy this dress. For holiday parties or just looking hot in general, it is perfection and must be given a good, stylish home as soon as possible. Open your heart. Adopt.

J. Crew Clothes at M. Kors Prices

I love J. Crew. I've loved J. Crew for a long time, long enough to remember the time, a couple years ago, that they suddenly and unexpectedly and inexplicably got really expensive.

Think back with me, my friends. The setting: two or so years ago. You were probably wearing uggs, and if anyone but Kate Moss had come up to you and said "Skinny jeans are the next big thing!", you would have nodded politely and walked away as fast as possible, much like you do when that twitchy guy on the bus comes up to you and says "I am Jesus."

It was a day like any other: you'd received your J. Crew catalog in the mail and made time in your favorite chair to go through it, excited to once again pretend that these clothes will be absolutely perfect for imagined retreats to your family's new england estate, when you come across a $200 beaded tanktop. "Hmm...that's odd," you think, but dismiss it as a fluke and read on. You notice that most of the cute little jackets have doubled in price, and are now around $200. "Ah well," you justify, "You have to pay for quality." Soon you come to the shoe section, usually filled with $50 deals but suddenly populated with $170 flats and $250 heels. Then, a $595 blazer. "This is no fluke..." you whisper, and put the catalog down, keeping your eye on it and slowly stepping away like in a movie scene where the main character realizes that their best friend may not be their best friend at all, but a robot sent by their mortal enemy to destroy them. "I don't even know you anymore!" you yell through the tears as you get to the doorway, and turn and run out of the house.

So that was my experience. Maybe you are a little less dramatic, but you've gotta admit, with the rise in their regular prices and the addition of the J. Crew Collection (which should be called Pay Top Designer Prices And Get Only a J. Crew Tag To Show For It), the average price of a J. Crew item is much more than it used to be. Yes, they still have some of the best and most affordable t-shirts and sweaters around, but come on, J. Crew is not M. Jacobs, or C. Klein, or M. Kors. I mean, look at this:

This coat is $2,200. A two-thousand dollar coat from the store next to the Gap in the mall. To me, that's just not right. If I'm going to pay over $2000 for a coat, it better be lined in gold leaf, have buttons made of truffles, a big designer label to remind me I'm a proud American materialist, and come with a butler.

Ah, a $500 blazer. I'm so thoroughly confused as to why this jacket costs $500 that I can't even make a joke. My head hurts.

Now that I've ranted sufficiently (actually I just got a migraine from the mustard yellow bank account-drainer above), I have to include a pair of shoes that are so amazingly cute I don't care that they're part of the pricey new guard:

They make me feel like sayin' I'm mad for plaid. But I won't. $170.

And finally, the reason I still love J. Crew:

The perfect long sleeve t-shirt in the perfect fit in a million perfect colors at the perfect price (2 for $35!). If they mess with their basics section, we shall march on their headquarters and make them feel the ire of thousands of women scorned.

You might want to skip the $2000 jacket and invest in a torch and a pitchfork, just in case.

If Turkey, Then Muu Muu

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY!
I plan to eat so much food that I'll have to wear this for the rest of my life:


Wow. I have now posted a fez and a muu muu in two consecutive posts. I'm going to get my fashion blogger license taken away.

The first and only time you'll see a leering, unshaven, unibrowed man wearing a $5.95 fez on a fashion blog. Enjoy.

The lovely lasses over at Kingdom of Style wrote a post a while ago about their (and the fashion world's) current obsession with quilting. No, not the crafty pastime, silly, the Chanel-pioneered design feature showing up everywhere from flats to bags to coats. I have to say that I am equally enamored.

In fact, if this man came up to me in his $5.95 fez (it actually is $5.95, and no, I'm not telling you where to get one) and told me that it was all the rage and I simply must have one, I would probably mace him.

But if this were a quilted fez, and this man came up to me and told me it was all the rage and I simply must have one, I would fall into a familiar quilting-induced trance and hand him $6.00 for sure. He could even keep the change.

But you know, this bag really is quilted and way better than a cheap fez sold by a sexual predator:

It's from Jane's Closet for $95. But wait! If you'll recall, because you are smart and stylish and hip enough to read this site, you get a special 15% discount! Just enter "daddylikey" anytime during check out (til the end of November) and this bag becomes almost as affordable as the scary guy's fez. Go ahead, get yourself a quilted Christmas present.

Puff Piece

I found this jacket when scouring the Nordstrom under $30 finds yesterday (actually, I found it what seems like years ago when it was full price and loved it and then re-found it and re-loved it yesterday at its new tiny price). I adore it. It's so fun and carefree and smart and unique--everything I look for in a friend.

There's only one problem: I'm pretty sure it would look horrible on me. It's a balloon jacket so it puffs out at the waist and sleeves, and it has some rouching at the chest. Basically, it's an amalgam of everything someone with big boobs and a less than tiny stomach should avoid. But it's 70% off ($28.90 down from $98.00!) and I get so happy whenever I look at it--all puffy and bouncy and cheery! Should I just be wild and throw all caution and fit guides and do's and don'ts to the wind and add it to my Christmas list and be happy and puffy for years to come? Maybe buy it and have it mounted in a shadow box so it can still make me happy without the unflattering side effects?

Please advise.

This one goes out to all my neat and tidy ladies

Contest Update!

The lovely Carissa's comment about not being able to enter because she keeps her purse neurotically neat made me realize the Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza may need a bit of clarification. You don't have to be a slob with dirty socks and old cheese in her purse (not that I know or am anyone like that) to enter this contest. Even if you clean and shine your purse everyday, there's probably something in it that is a little random, something that might trigger your friend to look twice while searching for gum, something the general public wouldn't guess is in there. It doesn't have to be a fermenting surprise (although those are welcome too). Maybe it's something completely mundane that serves a different function or has a weird story or behind it. Get creative! Doesn't have to be weird, people. Just unique. So enter! Carissa, I will be awaiting your neurotically neat email.

Also, I won't use your name or broadcast your purse find to the world unless you win, and even then, if you'd rather be an anonymous winner, that's totally cool. Shed your inhibitions, dig in your handbag, and send me an email!

daddylikeyblog@gmail.com

Oops, I got expensive.

I feel like, at least in my blogging life, I've been getting dangerously close to becoming one of those women whose taste in clothing is purely three- and four-digit decadent, one of those women who are the reason that Saks must institute a three-pairs-of-boots-per-person-per-month limit on a $1000 pair of leather Gucci's. There's nothing wrong with having luxurious taste (although no matter how cute the Gucci boots, maybe just go for two pairs and spend the extra $1000 on a vacation or ending world hunger or something?), but realizing that I can't afford anything I've posted on my own site in the past week or two was a sad blogging epiphany indeed. I already did a post on my warped sense of value, so hopefully that earns me some points, but allow me to turn to a trusted friend, the Nordstrom half-yearly sale, for my formal mea culpa, some fabulous under $30 finds:

Mblem, $17.90 (down from $60)

Nadri, $29.90 (down from $45.00)

Cosabella, $6.90, (down from $18.00)

Lulu, $15.90 (down from $24.00)

Ella Moss (for the warm weather girls), $28.90 (down from $98.00!)

Anne Klein, $21.90 (down from $75.00)

At Nordstrom stores or Nordstrom.com

Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza!

Alright, Daddy Likey fans, have I got a deal for you. This happens to be my 100th post (I'm a centenapostian! Wow, that was the worst pun ever), which is so super exciting that I am going to hold a contest to celebrate. A Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza to be exact!

Perhaps you heard that I recently won a Coutorture/Lucky Shops VIP giftbag. The winner of the Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza will receive something cool out of said giftbag, to be determined on December 15th when I finally get to see the damn thing for the first time myself (I had to have it shipped to my house in Oregon but I have a month of school left here--and yes, I did consider dropping out for the sole reason of getting to my giftbag sooner). I can't tell you exactly what you will win, but I can assure you it will be cool and it will be semi-expensive. You might win something in this very picture (but not the tic tacs; my friend Rachel already called those).


Here's what you've gotta do. I did a post a while back describing the somewhat embarrassing and perplexing contents of my purse. If you would like a chance at a free piece of swag of your very own, go through your purse/handbag/backpack and send me an email describing the ONE wierdest/grossest/most illegal thing you found. Okay, I'm kidding about the illegal part. Any and all bloody knife emails will be forwarded to the authorities, no matter how hilarious. A panel of judges and I will choose the item we find most entertaining and send you some sweet swag!

Send your crazy purse finds (and the story behind it if you'd like to explain yourself, but that's totally optional) to daddylikeyblog@gmail.com with something along the lines of "Daddy Likey 100th Post Contest Extravaganza!" in the title.

p.s. To my close friends--sadly, you are ineligible for this contest, because we both know you are going to pillage and plunder that giftbag, contest or not (Carolyn, I'm so talking to you. Step away from the bag!).

Update: NeoNaturalizer, NeoMother

Thanks to your urging, my mom, as my brothers would say, "manned up" and bought the shoes. Guess what? They fit perfectly, they're super-comfy, and she immediately ordered another pair. Good work ladies. And way to man up, mom.

Speaking of NeoNaturalizer, I was on their site the other day trying to find some cute flat boots for less than, you know, a thousand dollars (so far my search has gone on for weeks and been completely unsuccessful), and I came across their new Signature Collection. This is NeoNaturalizer at its best. This is UberNeoNaturalizer. Sure, the shoes in this collection bumped up into the next price range, but they're amazing (and comfy!). I mean, look at these heels:

Aren't they fabulous? I was reading Real Simple yesterday and there was a huge section on how to throw a formal holiday dinner party with a strict seating arrangement (they even had a little chart to write down your friends' good and bad qualities in order to better determine who sits by who, which kinda creeped me out. I mean, what if you accidentally left it somewhere and a party guest saw, like, "still thinks Austin Powers catchphrases are funny" next to their name?) and it sounded so horrible and awkward but if it meant an occassion to wear these shoes, I would RSVP in a second.

And then there's my personal favorites:

Ah, I could stare at these all day (which probably means I shouldn't buy them--that could get dangerous near busy streets). Think of these with just jeans and a black t-shirt--tres chic without even trying! And you could easily put them with tights and a party dress as well. God I'm in love.

Both: $125, naturalizer.com

It's Martin!

Guest blogger/raccoon Martin Sheen describes his lust for a shiny bolero:

The other day I found an entire tuna sandwich in the trash. It was delicious. And this bolero is shiny.

cashmere and silk sequin cardigan, $29.99 (down from $168!), here.


Thanks Nicky!

Unrealistic Style Guide: Chapter 1

My dear cousin Marcella just made her debut as the lead in her high school play, which means, without a doubt, she will find success on Broadway soon. You know what that means! It's time for the Daddy Likey Style Guide: How to Dress Like a Broadway Star (in clothes that a real broadway star probably couldn't afford).

Start with an impossibly glamorous fur coat (shush now, it's faux!):

Rebecca Taylor, $570, shopbop.com

Pair with the cutest high-waisted pencil skirt ever made:

Parameter, $215, girlshop.com

Tuck in an embellished corset camisole ("Isn't that too much with the coat and the skirt? Shouldn't I keep the camisole simple?" you say? Helllooo you're on broadway! You're supposed to be dramatic!):Nannette Lepore, $300 (jesus christ that's expensive for a camisole!), nordstrom.com

Add black tights and some hot red heels:

Fornarina, $144.40, Asos.com

Top off the look with some big sunglasses, so everyone knows you're a famous broadway star, duh.

Giorgio Armani, $265, saks.com

Congratulations Marci!

Furmongering.

I'm passionate about pretty much everything else in the world, but fur drama just isn't my thing. I'm fur-neutral. I probably wouldn't wear it myself, mainly because I don't like to wear things that exponentially increase the chances of getting buckets of red paint hurled at me by bands of protesters in animal masks (a preference that also keeps my Team K-Fed shirt in the closet, damnit).

Like I do almost every night, I was browsing the Saks Fifth Avenue website wondering what it would be like to be able to afford one thing, just one thing, anything, from there, when I stumbled upon their fur coat section. Some of the shearling vests were really cute, so I kept clicking deeper and deeper into the site, encouraged by Saks' savvy marketing and the motto of my great grandfather 800 times removed--"fur. warm. good."--until I was abruptly shocked out of my J.Loesque fantasy by this:

So, yeah, it looks really comfy, but it's just taking the concept a little too far. First of all, what the hell do you wear a giant hooded fur vest with? Second of all, what if you found yourself in a really cliche cartoon and a bear saw you wearing that and tried to mate with you and hilarity ensued?

And then I saw this:
This is when I started getting uncomfortable pangs of "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore...in fact, I think somehow we've wandered into Cruella DeVille's storehouse...Toto? Oh god!"

And then came this:
Apparently Saks has only one model who will wear fur, and apparently she is a fembot. Now I'm a little concerned about being assassinated by PETA or sued for libel or shot by machine gun breasts because of this post. Tell the world my story (but leave out the Team K-Fed part).

Saw you at Daddy Likey on Wednesday. You smiled. Coat shopping sometime?

I realized the other day that I get the same fuzzy feeling reading fashion blog comments as I do when I read missed connections. Just in case you're not familiar with missed connections (I wasn't until a few years ago), allow me to explain. So, say you're a hipster in the big city, and you go to an alternative coffee shop and order your organic fat-free latte, and you look over at one of the tables and there's a totally hot hipster girl wearing owl-rimmed glasses reading Sartre, and she looks at you and smiles, but you're too scared to go talk to her, so you kick yourself in the ass for the rest of the day until finally you go home and submit a missed connections ad to craigslist or your local hipster paper, and here's what you write:

M4W, OrganiCoffee, Saturday morning
You: dark hair, glasses, hemp pants, thoughtful, reading Sartre.
Me: dark hair, glasses, tight jeans, ordered organic fat free latte, clutching Kafka paperback.
You smiled at me; intrigued, but I didn't follow through. Discuss existentialism over dinner?

Anyway, back to my long-forgotten point: if you read the missed connections section of a paper or website you'll see the vast variation of types of people that others think are beautiful. You'll see people wanting everyone from "brunette plus-sized beauty at the grocery store" to "dreadlocked street dancer" to "Ben Stein lookalike." I love looking through them because it underscores how different we all are and how there's someone for everyone (which totally disproves my junior high thesis that I would die cold and alone since I didn't look like Britney Spears) and how even Ben Stein can spark a passionate tingling in the loins.

I get the same tingly (not Ben Stein tingly, that's different) there's-something-for-everyone feeling when I look at fashion blogs and see the wide variety of love and hate comments for all the items featured. Someone will say "Oh my god that blue dress is so ugly it should be burned and its ashes buried even though another ugly dress would probably sprout from the soil in its place" and then someone else will say "Ooohh that blue dress is so pretty!"

So today, to celebrate individuality, missed connections, fashion blogs, and Ben Stein loin tingles, here are some coats I would never pick out for myself (I'm so not hatin', they're just not for me) that might totally be your thing:

Mike & Chris, $322, girlshop.com

Mackage, $495, girlshop.com

Coffee Shop, $68, nordstrom.com

Searle, waaaayy expensive, nordstrom.com

$78.50 on sale, Delias.com

Meet Martin.

So, after I wrote the post below I got to thinking, "I'm constantly posting pictures of shiny sparkly things. Raccoons are attracted to shiny sparkly things. What if I have my brother photoshop me an amazingly cool and totally real-looking raccoon fashion blogger, who can then become a recurring character on Daddy Likey and a scapegoat (scaperaccoon, maybe?) for my shameful weakness for anything sequined, sparkly or shiny?" And so it was.

Meet Martin Sheen (hahahaha get it? Sheen!), raccoon fashion blogger extraordinaire and new Daddy Likey contributor. Anytime you see his cuddly little face, get ready for shiny accessories and astounding wit. Here's a sample:

This bee ring is so sparkly I could eat it! Like, literally, I would try to eat it.

Bee ring, girlshop.com, $69.

Not again!

I should probably think about renaming this blog "Things that raccoons would be attracted to if they went shopping online," but until then, here's another shiny sequined object of my affection.


clutch, wetseal.com, $14.50

I dare you to find a blog post anywhere that says "doodle" more than this one.

Rachel and I were superstar doodlers in our high school. We would take doodle orders and make personalized doodle pages that were always big hits on birthdays and Christmas; we would amaze the people sitting around us with our teacher-caricaturing talent and amuse ourselves with endless inside doodle jokes. We both had doodle specialties and recurring doodle characters. Rachel was the master of spastic cats and funny old men, and I often drew different types of food with human faces...


And now my doodle is a felt cosmetics pouch on fredflare.com. I'm not sure if I should sue them for hiring a precog (oh wait in this situation it would be a postcog, right?) and stealing my idea, or just buy it.

Vogue warped.

Do you ever read too many fashion magazines or websites and your sense of rationality gets completely warped (I believe "Vogue warped" is the medical term), whether you start thinking that four-hundred pounds of layered chunky cardigans would totally work on you and be totally flaterring, or that $700 is a perfectly reasonable price for shoes when you usually think twice about a $70 pair from Nine West? This phenomenon became disturbingly clear to me when I saw this bag on a website. It's a Fendi, and it costs $1000.


Now, normally I spend about $50 on my handbags, and normally this bag would trigger a little mental rant in me about how canvas and leather should never cost so damn much, Fendi Shmendi, but instead I found myself thinking, "Wow. $1000. That's really not so bad." I caught myself mid-thought, but the damage is done. I'm warped. I looked at one too many $3000 dollar handbags and suddenly a $1000 Fendi is like a sensible purchase from the accessories clearance rack at Sears. Damnit.