It's retro chic and back to the '50s this winter, according to the looks from the Lanvin ♥ H&M collection runway show. I'm usually wary of wearing both a bright lip and accentuated eyes, but these are subtle enough that I think I could take the plunge. I think it's the fact that everything else is just so groomed and polished, from the perfectly arched eyebrows to the flawless complexions. I'm back in New York for Thanksgiving, and I'm so incredibly pleased to be going to get my eyebrows waxed in about two hours because well ... they need it. Plus, the timing is perfect to try out this new look for Thanksgiving dinner. With lips like these, no one will suspect that I'm the one swiping all of the cranberry sauce.
I had the most awful time getting home yesterday. The flight was ideal, particularly for Chicago — an hour and a half long, no layovers, no delays. My sister and I arrived with an hour to spare, and as we were checking our luggage, I realized that my ring was missing. This isn't just any ring. It's a silver snake thumb ring that I found for five Euros in Rome, and I'd worn it every single day since I was fifteen. My dad had mentioned that he thought thumb rings were the tackiest jewelry on the planet, so this was my own personal and very tame teenage rebellion. After going through security, I emptied my bag on a chair to search for this ring, which was nowhere to be found. I crumpled up on the floor of the airport, sobbing while my sister tried frantically to console me. I eventually collected myself, sulkily refused to wipe the trails of mascara running down my face, and left the terminal to go back to the curbside check-in, but the ring wasn't there either. I gave it up for lost, miserable and furious that I didn't take better care of it. Later that night, though, as I wriggled out of my jeans, my ring flew into the air. I've lost some weight (particularly in my hands, for some reason — is this not the most pointless place to lose weight from?) and as I was pulling my pants on yesterday morning, my ring had slipped off and settled comfortably in the pant leg of my Earnest Sewns. The moral of the story is to buy a reaaaaally awesome present for my little sister, who put up with the weepy, complaining, and utterly despicable me like a champ.
[Photo cred to French Vogue]
