Thursday, November 25, 2010

Kim Kardashian for Bebe Jewelry Collection

This is my favorite piece from Kim Kardashian's jewelry collection for Bebe. I have a penchant for double (and triple) rings and I can never seem to find any that do it for me. This one does. I actually love several pieces from her new collection at Bebe and I have to say that I'm impressed. I mean, I never expect less from KK, but I do expect less from Bebe. Back in the day, about five years ago, I absolutely l o v e d Bebe. It was my favorite brand, hands down. I would pour through the pages of the catalogs that I got in the mail daily, never getting tired of the editorials. I used to create outfits in my own wardrobe based on them—I would have worn the Bebe clothes, but I was a broke high school student with no job. 

But then the editorials got cheap looking to me. It was noticeably less and less creative, less imaginative, less appealing to me. The clothes became too high fashion and not enough quality. They just looked nice. But they weren't comfortable, or able to survive the washer—they weren't wearable anymore. I even stopped cruising in the stores—of course, wishing I could actually afford the stuff—when I made my weekly trips to the mall. 

But then Kim came. First, with the collection she collaborated with Kourtney and Khloe.

And now the jewelry.

ASB,
xoxxo

What Makes You Feel Sexy?

I feel the sexiest when...

  • Wearing black + lace or sheer
  • I'm wet, with clothes on
  • I'm not wearing bra or panties under my dress
  • I'm sweating
  • I'm listening to Usher croon
  • I'm swinging my hips to Beyonce 
  • I smell good 
  • My feet are slipped inside a pair of six-inch heels 
  • Driving 

    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Wednesday, November 24, 2010

    I'm A Closet Freak...

    Not that kind...

    Well, maybe.

    But I have an enduring, sordid love affair with closets.

    A closet should not be just a tiny cramped space with a door. No, darling it should be a room, a private boudoir dedicated to inspiring you, motivating you.

    It should be comfortable, relaxing, rejuvenating—your ultimate retreat and expression of yourself, your style, your values.

    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Sunday, November 21, 2010

    Enraptured


    Matiko "Yumie" Wedges

    I'm currently obsessing over these taupe lace-up wedges by Matiko. I would usually require that the heels (especially on a wedge!) be higher than three and a half inches...

    Matiko "Yumie" Wedges

    ...But the exquisite detailing on these shoes are remarkable. I die for the atypical cutouts and concealed platform—these have the look of booties and the essence of sandals, the best of both worlds, season-less. And I love that they come with a padded sole. Perfect for wearing all day long, class to class, meeting to meeting, building to building, staircase after staircase, you get the idea. Totally worth the $172.00 that they cost. Now if I only had that cash lying around somewhere...

    Matiko "Yumie" Wedges

    Gorgeous front view. Ah, platforms from the frontal view make me shiver—so impolitely sexy.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Saturday, November 20, 2010

    An Alternative


    As universally flattering (and satisfying) as they are, I am not a fan of pencil skirts (or dresses).

    I think they look classic, classy and elegant on most women, but they're just not for me.

    I don't know if it's the constant riding up on my tummy that gets me the most or if it's the riding up my thighs from the bottom. I've got curvy thighs, undeniably results of three years of athletic running and lifting weights and too many squats, that unfortunately just don't work with skin-tightness! Also, I have dimples in the side of my hips, consequences of too many squats and lunges, that are highlighted by pencil skirts that I don't dig. Do you see how hard it is for us athletically built girls to be feminine without being pink?

    Thus, I greatly value and fully embrace a great pair of tailored pants, skinny or straight-legged because wide-legged and flared makes me cringe. Currently lusting these by Chloe.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Friday, November 19, 2010

    Don't Get Too Comfortable

    Courtesy of Refinery 29
    Wow, you all have got to take five minutes out and check out the rest of this funny diagram that Refinery 29 did on "How To Become A Star Style blogger." It is absolutely hilarious—the great Muhamad Ali said it best that the funniest jokes are the truth. Ain't that the truth.

    After every level of the graph, as I kept going down further and further, more and more comments like, "Exactly!", and "Amen" kept seeping from my lips.

    I've said it before, (again here) and I have no problem saying it again—I hate imitators, mimics, people without originality who do and wear the same things other people do and wear because...just because. It makes me sick. 

    I can't tell you how disgusted I get when witness the depth of the homogeny that the top fashion bloggers possess—you know the ones who are in the ad campaigns, who have front row seats during fashion week, who have personal photographers nine times out of ten are their boyfriend. I'm tired of seeing these bloggers with the same poses in the same basic places with the same mother-effing Alexander Wang bag and Jeffery Campbell shoes! (No offense to these designers by the way.)

    I mean, I have to be honest. When my interest in blogging and bloggers bloomed from a curious bud and into a healthily obsessive flower, I followed these kinds of bloggers. Mainly because their names and faces were the principle names and faces I saw. Because they were the ones with the most followers and the ones doing interviews with official magazines, print and online, I immaturely thought that that meant these people hosted the best blogs out there.

    Then, the infatuation stage faded and I started realizing that they didn't update as frequently in juxtaposition to some of the other bloggers with less popularity did. Next, I started to notice that their pictures all looked the same, they didn't have quality text in their posts and they didn't respond to emails or the hundreds of (generous) comments on their posts. At this point I was baffled because now I one, didn't know who to look up to anymore, and two, didn't want to leave, but couldn't bare to stay.

    I've been careful and sure to not become one of those fashion bloggers. I mean, the fact that I'm not famous and not getting personal invitations to sit in the front row of runway shows and not being sent personal gifts from major designers kinda helps, but in the case that I ever do, I've trained myself to always know why I blog in the first place. I don't blog for followers. Likewise, I don't blog for fame. I would blog if the only person who read my posts were my mother (she gushes at anything I write). My goals are to deliver content that is real, and that is of good quality. To have posts not just with artwork or photographs, but with delicious words strung together like a jazzy candy necklace. Yes, those perks I've mentioned earlier are wonderful but they're not my driving force.

    Now I understand that the best bloggers are the underdogs, the ones without the fame, without the name, without the glory. Why? Because these 'top fashion bloggers' don't have the same hunger as those who are underdogs, which are typically the novice, do. They don't have the same drive to be creative, to be fresh, to be innovative. They're comfortable.

    And you know what happens when you get comfortable, don't ya?

    Hell yeah.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Thursday, November 18, 2010

    You Are Your Best You

    I have an ongoing love affair with originality. 

    I remember how much I envied (still envy) this one girl's style who I went to high school with and it was (is) because of how original she was. It was because she wasn't afraid to express herself and her true personality through the garments she chose to wear. She never dressed the way anyone else dressed. Nothing she wore ever matched. If she had a pink zebra stripped shirt then she had to throw a brightly hued turquoise cardigan over it and slide her feet into a pair of pointed-toe leopard flats. This kind of outfit, vision—imagination blogged my mind. Her audacity, her freedom, her ability to think independently was astounding to me. 

    I always wanted to dress like her but I never wanted or even attempted to look like her. Why? Because I wasn't her. No, I was Amber S. Brown. If I threw on an outfit like that I would just look like some crazy girl who doesn't match! I took a lot of inspiration from her and the way she (subconsciously) put (remarkably) stylishly fashionable outfits together, but I never tried to imitate her.

    You have to remain true to yourself when it comes to style, when it comes to life. You don't have to dress a certain way to stand out to be different. If you dress like you, then you will stand out and look different.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Things Are Things & Stuff Is Stuff

    For one, I am a perfectionist yet I know that perfection does not exist and when it tries to, it's annoyingly boring! Two, I am a workaholic, but incredibly lazy. See, I am made up of contradictions. And I fully accept and embrace them.



    One of the contradictions that I know is evident on this blog is the fact that I love fashion, live and breathe style, lust after luxury garments—but I am not a consumerist or an (subconscious) aspiring consumerist or materialistic person.

    I love the question, "If you could only bring three things with you on a stranded island, what would you bring?" I love this questions because unlike others who get stumped with a dumb look plastered on their faces, I always know my answer.

    Nothing. Nope, since (my twin sister) Danielle doesn't count as something, there's nothing that I feel is necessary to bring with me. Yeah, I (generally, which means when I don't have a day packed with meetings and class) stay on my MacBook for probably sixty-percent of my day (of course working, darlings!) but I could let it go in an instant—of course, going on a stranded island would make me much less tempted. 

    I have no attachment to material things. Honestly, I (often!) use the word, "obsess" very loosely. Truly, I don't obsess over things, people or places that I will never obtain. I don't live in a fanatical world. I am optimistic, but I always remember that "you never know". Because you don't. My obsessions are with nonphysical, intangible things. Like time. By no means is this an obsession that I am proud of, I am simply being strictly honest with you right now.

    Some people just want "things". And they just want "stuff". And they just want to say that they have "things". And just want to say that they have "stuff". That is not me. I learned early that (outside) beauty fades. Likewise, I learned that some stuff is just stuff. Stuff that doesn't mean anything when you close your eyes at night and begin to dream.

    That's only the skin-deep, human nature part of me. See, I don't care about what you have in your wallet (or bank account). I don't care about what you have in your house. I appreciate the artistry, the craftsmanship, the beauty of a luxurious pair of classic red soled Christian Louboutins and a posh Donna Karan column gown but don't be mislead—but I know that at the end of the day, it's still a shoe, a dress, a pair of pants. Some people emotionally attach themselves and their minds to material things and to me that is a sickness.

    Oh, by the way...if I had to pick something to bring it would be a pen pencil and paper. I'd h a v e to write. If I had a photo album as thick as "Queens of Crime" (the world's thickest book according to the Guinness Book of World Records), which is a future dream of mine, I would definitely bring that as well.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Some Things You Just Know


    I used to be foolish and naive. I used to believe that everyone reached some point of ultimate happiness before they died. Before the lights shut off and it was over forever.

    I used to believe that everyone's dreams eventually came true.

    Childish, right?

    Now I know that those are merely hopeful, innocent figments of my imagination. Finding happiness and living out your dreams isn't certain. It isn't assured. It isn't destined to everyone. To anyone. True happiness is a state of the mind that only the strong have the ability to possess. When I am around happy people, I get overwhelmingly sad because it is only then that I realize how truly unhappy I am.

    But there is one thing that hasn't changed. There is one thing I still know and I still believe. I know that one day I will find happiness. I know that one day I will be living out my dreams. And it won't be because I'm one of the 'lucky' ones. Not because I'm one of the 'chosen' ones.

    It will be because I believe it.

    I don't know when, and I don't know how, but one day it's gonna happen for me. I can see it. I can feel it. I know it.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Wednesday, November 17, 2010

    Incomprehensible Love...

    This is my favorite look that Rihanna has done since she's colored her hair red.

    I have to admit, I was not a fan at first. I thought it had good intentions, but just was too much. I was tired of her constantly changing her hair every time I finally got adjusted to a new look. But I get it now. Aside from the business perspective, it's just her way of expressing how she's feeling—and that I will always support, no doubt. I mean, seriously, what Rihanna does with fashion, how committed she is to expressing her own true style, is nothing shy of incredible to me.

    Just this one outfit says so much. It may look simple or plain, but it's so much more than that. I mean, how many of you would have woke up and decided to pair a long sleeved mint green fishnet blouse with a pair of leggings in a faintly lighter shade of mint green with a cream colored pump? Exactly. It's very abstract and incomprehensible—and that's what I l o v e about it. About her. About Fashion. About style. About life.

    The cherry red lipstick with the candy red bone straight hair vividly contrasting to the soft greens and deep nail color (I can't believe she finally chopped her nails down!) is absolutely gorgeous. I love her jewelry choices, especially those rings on her left hand and of course, the best part of her ensemble, and this picture in general, is her smile. Magnifique. 
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Monday, November 15, 2010

    White Fever



    Anyone who knows me knows that I loathe white shoes...


    ...Even under a wedding gown.


    But these Brian Atwood babies are almost making me change my mind.


    Almost.

    Saturday, November 13, 2010

    To Know Fashion...To Have Style

    Style is an art, not a science. You can't learn style. Fashion is a way to see things whereas style is how you interpret those things that you see. It irritates me when people dress a certain way that looks manufactured and/or too put together. Style should be abstract. Abstract does not mean wacky, outlandish or crazy. Just not concrete. Concrete is nice...it's stable but it's safe. I don't waste energy on safe things. The problem with things that are too concrete is that it becomes predictable. Then laughable.

    It bothers me when people think that because they know a couple of designers' names, know how to coordinate a top with a bottom and call themselves fashionistas—by the way, that's a word I can't stand because of how overused it is—think that they're stylish.

    Knowing fashion isn't having stye. Likewise, having good taste isn't having style. Being able to point out what matches what isn't being stylish. It's a combination of all these things with sparkles of originality, splatters of creativity and above all, the ability to see things that others don't.

    It's like a talent...

    And I thoroughly admire those who master it.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Thursday, November 11, 2010

    I See Things...

    I will cherish the day we finally meet...
    Do photographs count as material things?


    Well, if they do, they're the most valued material possession to me. I have an uncanny attachment to the art and beauty of photographs that keeps me high strung with lust to press the capture button. 


    With the click of a button, the sound of a shutter, the spark of a flash I can make a moment in time last forever, and that is what makes photos so incredibly special to me. In fact, I like to think that I have this special talent where I can stare at photos for hours nonstop, run away with my thoughts and never get bored.


    If I could have it my way, on my lazy days or days off I would do nothing but take pictures all day. Beautiful pictures. Organic pictures. Pictures that tell stories. Immortalize feelings. I'd set up my tripod and pose for pictures for hours. If I had the digital camera of my dreams I would literally take thousands and thousands. 


    I want my future home (and before that, apartment) to be filled with my own artwork. I want photos everywhere. I'm not into 'stuff'. Acquiring and consuming 'stuff' isn't what I live for. Some people do.


    I am no model, nor do I aspire or ever see myself being one. But I do have to confess that I have this wild fantasy of having a book of photos—with me as the subject—one day.


    Images of myself in my underwear staring out my bedroom mirror. Images of me sitting at a dinette table eating tantalizing fruits for breakfast. Images of me going hard at the gym with sweat dripping down my neck. Images of me walking down the street, laughing with my sister. Images of me submerged inside a black old fashioned freestanding tub with white bubbles covering the top like a curly mane.
    ASB,
    xoxxo


    Don't get this twisted. It's not that I am some self-absorbed, narcissistic girl who wants a book of pictures just to stare and marvel at. It's just that I'm a visualizer. I see things. I see things in pictures. It may sound odd, but almost everything I do I imagine it being a photo. Do you do that? My mind is pictorial and very cinematic. 

    Wednesday, November 10, 2010

    A Little Boyish Charm...

    I don't like wearing cocktail dresses...

    To cocktail parties.

    I don't like the stale concept of wearing a brightly hued or black polyester, tight, strapless and above-the-knee dresses with metallic or black strappy sandals. It's just too clichéd, expected and uncomfortable.

    I'd much rather run to a classic, a favorite of mine—a sharply tailored tuxedo jacket, minus a tail because that is taking it too literally, too far. Of course it would be worn with an exquisitely louche blouse, preferably sheer, or a dainty, vintage-inspired corset underneath and without a doubt chancy platform heels.
    ASB,
    xoxxxo

    Tuesday, November 9, 2010

    The Lust Fest Continues...

    Ah! Here are the six-inch Christian Louboutin black suede and leather gold rivet-embellished sandals I was lusting over in the 3.1 Phillip Lim Fall RTW collection last week!

    These shoes exemplify what my stye for statement heels are. Pairing these haute runway shoes off is a challenge though. I would never wear them with a flashy LBD or cocktail dress—that's too cliche and predictable. I'd mix them with some much more casual.

    Can you believe that these babies cost nearly $1,500! I would call it absurd, but there are people who would actually pay that much for it...
    ASB,
    xoxxo





    Sunday, November 7, 2010

    For All The 'Tomboys'...

    Why must you think because I like the feeling of baggy jeans and a worn-in tank top more than a tight bondage dress that squeezes my ass and shows off the dimples in the side of my hips mean that I like the feeling of p***y juice dripping on my tongue too?

    Just because I like to spread my legs when I sit instead of crossing them at the knees don't mean I like to spread 'em for a strapped on tube of plastic inside me, close my eyes and pretend that it's a d**k.

    I don't have a drawer filled with thongs or lacy lingerie but why does that have to mean that I like the smell of wet pu**y in my face?

    Why is a strong woman, with biceps that can knock out single-handed push-ups a paradox, an oxymoron and not a role model? Are you saying that the only strong muscles I can have in my body can be behind my panties?


    Just because I'm not confined to the brick walls of femininity don't mean my skin ain't soft, I don't smell good—I ain't a woman.


    I am.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Fall/Winter Looks I'm Looking To Recreate...

    Alice + Olivia Fall 2010 RTW
    The  bold shoulder of this primal print jacket is absolutely stunning over this drapy flesh tone blouse, both such contrasts to the black harem pants and I love that. Well, I already have my Topshop wedge ankle booties...
    Alice + Olivia Fall 2010 RTW
    The same qualities are evident in this ensemble...the strong shoulder, the black wedge (minus the peep-toe), black harem pants—easy enough to make my own adaptation of it. Well at least I hope so.
    BCBG Max Azria Fall 2010 RTW
    I just want these loose fitting pants. Perfect for swiftly cruising from building to building, class to class, meeting to meeting. And the simple winter white sweater, genius.
    BCBG Max Azria Fall 2010 RTW
    I can't say enough about this garb. You already know my sentiment of maxi dresses, flowing materials, and neutrals...but what I love about this is the contrast between the volume of the skirt and the fit of the belted cardigan with those sheer sleeves (e x q u i s i t e much). For a while I hated belts, now I'm in love with what they can do to an outfit, taking it from anticipated to unpredictable.
    BCBG Max Azria Fall 2010 RTW
    Again the belt adds that je ne sais quoi element to the outfit. The sparkle is just enough glam for the look to still be sophisticated and not cheap. (BTW, I would lose the white tights with both looks and swap it with black ones for the previous and knee highs and a garter belt for this one.)
    3.1 Phillip Lim Fall 2010 RTW


    Well, I'd flip the X to the back, and wouldn't wear a shirt with such a high neckline—I'd much rather opt for a blouse with a bit of side cleavage. 
    3.1 Phillip Lim Fall 2010 RTW
    The trademark red sole give these babes away—I had to post these from the same collection because they are nothing short of g o r g e o u s. The platform is tall enough, the hardware is prominent enough without being overpowering—simply lustful.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Friday, November 5, 2010

    Iconic Comes From Iconic...

    Who is your fashion icon?

    Do you have one? I think it is important. You should have someone you look up to. Someone who influences you. Great comes from great. Iconic comes from iconic. Someone who inspires you. To be b o l d. To be a u d a c i o u s. To be d a n g e r o u s. Male. Female. Unknown. Whoever—they should stimulate that creative juice inside you, get it bubbling. Maybe to be gutsy enough to wear color on color and stop drowning yourself in black threads. Maybe to wear that mid-drft crop-top that you've been admiring in the mirror but too coy to walk out in public with it on. Or to finally get inked and stop fearing that you'll regret it.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Can You Find It?

    I love blogs. I love blogging. I love bloggers.
    I hate it when I go on to various fashion blogs and I see numerous bloggers carrying the same exact bag over their shoulders or strolling around the city wearing the same exact shoes on their feet. Come on. What happened to originality, guys ladies? (There are few exceptions, and please do excuse yourself if you know yourself to be one of those rare cases.) And I do understand that many of the notorious bloggers get gifts sent to them that they have to wear—by all mean, rock that. I'm just tired of the same 'ol, same 'ol. I mean, I thought the whole point of a fashion blog with personal "street fashion" photos was to be unique? Pioneering? Groundbreaking? Cutting-edge?
    Guess not.
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    But What About Me...

    Me and my twin sister, Danielle.
    It might be easy for you to say, "I was born into this world alone, so I am prepared to leave it alone,"—but what about me?

    I wasn't.


    I've never been alone.

    Just Be...

    You know those characters from movies that you remember maybe for a line they said or how the way they dressed was so recognizably different from everyone else's? The people who can pull this off in real life—those are the people who inspire me, who I look up to, who I aspire to be. 

    Fundamentally, your style, from the way you put together outfits to the fabrics you chose to buy, should be solid reflections of your individual character. People that exude this theory of mine are the people who impress d a z z l e me. Not people who pull off runway looks or look perfect on the red carpet. I dig unconscious character, when it is at its most organic state.

    I believe everyone should be a character but the key is not to be a scripted or manufactured character or a character constructed from imitation—for imitation is death—but to be the character of yourself. It doesn't have to be as wacky as Lady Gaga because in truth, you are not Lady Gaga and trying to be her character is like stuffing a knife down your throat (please forgive the graphic description). When you blast someone else's character to its maximum volume, it will never be as loud as your muted character. 

    Stop wearing your clothes that way because everyone else is. Stop acting that way because you see all your peers acting like that. Stop sexing them (him) (her) because you see other people doing the same thing. Stop lying because they do. Stop pretending because they do. Just s.t.o.p. 

    Don't think your life is boring. Don't underestimate the strength of your intelligence. Don't think your personality isn't flavored enough. Don't think your character isn't g r e a t enough because it is!
    ASB,
    xoxxo

    Footwear Or Jokes?


    I'd shave my head before I slipped my feet into these mohawk shoes. Tsk, tsk, I know. YSL is one of my favorite accessories designers but this is just a joke to me—minus the funny part...
    A creative masterpiece, genius...just trying to figure out where and when would these Alberto Guardiani lipstick heels ever be appropriate?
    I want to glide my feet into these Kobi Levi gum heels and try them on...just to see how they would feel. I imagine as yucky as it looks.
    ASB,
    xoxxo
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