Shop in Style: Be That Hostess

What: Be That Hostess

Why: Because Joyce is That Mom, and can can help you be one, too (or non-mom, whichever you prefer, she's just a fabulous stylist)

When: 14 November, 2 - 5 pm

Where: Saks Fifth Avenue, Tysons (Shoes on Two)

Described as an "artful holiday party" where you'll "learn holiday hostessing tricks of the trade," swing by and snatch up some of Joyce's expertise...it'll be worth it!

Thank Goodness for Knit and Jersey

Normally, I'm a structured silouhette girl...creases, form, bring it on.



But obviously, in my "condition" I have to rely on things that are a little more forgiving. The problem is, of course, for "forgiving" to not be "schlumpy." How does one look put together and professional without a) looking huge, b) forgoing comfort (increasingly important), or c) putting some sort of big, unflattering bow on one's chest, like they used to do when our mamas were growing us?

[Update: How the heck did this grammar girl not notice the apostrophed plural in the last sentence?! I'm mortified my fingers typed it, and sorry to anyone offended. Sigh.]

First, I'm a very lucky pregnant gal. My Beans like, apparently, to grow compactly. I suppose I have height to thank for this, but both bumps (so far) have been of the basketball variety. Which means that pants and skirts can stay slim (even though I do need those ridiculous panels now), affording me some leeway for volume up top.



The same rules of proportion apply for those of us wearing M clothes as "regular" garb:



1) Volume up top? Fitted on the bottom - and vice versa.

2) Well-fitting, if not fitted = always better than something that looks like it was made for someone else

3) Adapt, adapt, adapt with accessories.



A friend of ours "announced" her pregnancy at our wedding several years ago. She'd bought a relatively plain black dress with pretty pleats, just graceful enough to compliment her bump. And added a lime green ribbon at the bodice. Charming and pretty.



Today, I'm sporting a favorite BCBG black and white jersey dress with a pop-arty print (non-M). It's supposed to be a shirt dress. I simply belted it at the bodice instead. Minimizes my bump much more than any M-designed clothes in my closet.



I have about 5 other dresses in my closet - all some sort of knit or jersey - some M, some not, but they all fit me without bagginess. They hug the curves H loves so much (I'm blessed to have an H that thinks I'm the most beautiful pregnant girl in the world) and keep me happy in the style-department.



Oh, and then I throw on my beloved patent leather peeptoe lillybee pumps with my biker chick leather jacket, and oilá! I'm the hippest Mama at pre-school drop off.

Boo! to You

In the midst of Halloween preparations, I thought I'd check in with the Infintessimal Readership.

What makes the best Halloween costume for you?

Do you want to be scary? Eye-catching? Clever? Puzzling? Current?

Do you want it to be flattering? If you want to stand out, in what way? Va-va-voom, or EEEEEW!

Personally, I've apparently entered the phase of life where "family" Halloween garb is of the moment. I've only got one party on the calendar this year, and it's a kid's birthday party. So since The Bean requested "Thomas" (of Tom and Jerry), H and I are going to be Tom's owners: a 50s-era pipe-wielding and apron donning couple (it was beyond my energy to make more than one set of ears for us). I happen to have a polka-dot shirt-dressy M dress in the closet, and we'll figure H's out on the fly.

*Pics courtesy of Tom and Jerry Online, an unofficial fan site

I gave in to trend...

I hit Tyson's on Saturday afternoon, hoping beyond all hopes to add some roomy but stylish garb to my wardrobe (I'm in a terrible between phase, where most M clothes look huge and cow-like on me, but "regular" stuff is iffy. Even my new beloved Phillies jersey won't button over my bump. Sigh.).

I did shop, and I did find a few things, including today's Pretty-Woman-polo-scene-inspired dress. Granted, it's navy & white rather than brown & cream, but it's shapely and sweet, and I can wear my Modern Vintage riding boots (score from the spring DSS) with it.

H yelled at me when I got home, because I'd bought bags of things for The Bean, Original Version. She needed things, daggoneit. Thin cotton pants won't do for an October playground, and sunhats are only good for so long...a pumpkin beret and two courdory caps were necessities.

The big purchase, though?

Booties.

Sigh. Never thought I'd go there. I couldn't stand them in high school, the first time around. They've been wearing me down this time around, unlike their blue/black plaid lumbershirt counterparts (shudder, seriously). BlueSuitGirl and I were both coveting a particular military-inspired grey pair on a pitstop to our Girls Weekend a while back.

So I bought them Saturday (on sale, too!). If my back weren't killing me today (sigh again), I'd be wearing them, paired with tights and a skirt. Can't wait to show them off.

Shop in Style: Tiger-Striped Memories

For those of you willing to forgo sustinance for a pair of those red soles, a chance to meet THE Mr. Louboutin...

What: Christian Louboutin in the store. Purchase a pair of shoes which Mr Louboutin will sign(shoe must be new and purchase at Neiman Marcus Tysons Galleria, one pair only will be signed). Accessory Fashion Editor for Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman Roopal Patel
will have a Q&A with Mr Louboutin.

Why: Because red is always chic

When: Saturday October 24 from 1:00-4:00 (Q&A at 1:00pm)

Where: Neiman MarcusTysons Galleria (only)

If I didn't have a child's party and mama duty that day, I might just go and blow our mortgage payment on this pair of boots that reminds me of Ms. Howell. The first "Ms." I knew, she was probably 70+ at the time, with short dyed strawberry blonde hair, zebra-striped stillettos, and had come in on the train from New York City. She was our cotillion dance instructor, leading us mercilessly through the niceties of elegant society (white gloves, receiving lines, and the boys finding the girls seats before offering to get them punch and cookies). She ruled the ballroom at the Kennett Country Club (where my grandparents, avid golfers, were members) with a set of castinets, starting and stopping Sam Tavoni's ivory tickling at whim. In my prized Laura Ashley dress and gloves, I glowed with pride (and probably still have the trophy, somewhere) from winning the end-of-season dance contest with Matt, the trumpet-playing cutie from "the other school" who eventually went on to play trumpet at my BabySis' wedding, a break from his daily life as a father and respected community member owning a group of local funeral homes.

But whenever I see tiger stripes, I fondly remember Ms. Howell. I can still hear them clicking across the floor when she walked - but not when she danced...even at 70, her feet never touched the floor...