chillow

I snapped this photo of a--gasp!--Ugg Cloak the other day at Loehmann's. I mean, the fact that it's already at my favorite (though I realize, often misguided and for some reason also sweat-inducing due to lack of air con) discount retailer says a lot. But who the hell EVER came up with the idea? The very notion that the herds of Australian sheep who previously gave up their woolly hides for the sake of boot-loving fashionistas (and high school seniors scrimping and saving their babysitting money) nationwide should now give up their goods so Mr. and Ms. Ugg could weave together an over-the-shoulder garment? So, so sad. I mean, warm boots to tuck $200 jeans into during the harsh winter months are one thing. (God knows getting the too-long hems of such jeans raggedy from snow and slush and seamy city sidewalks would just suck.) They were definitely cute for a while, definitely A Look. And one, unlike most Looks, that the everyday girl could pull off just fine, thank you, no matter that she's 5'6" and a Gap size 6 and not 6' and a Gap size -00000. This shawl thing has no chance. None! A heavy pink or purple animal hanging over one's body is hardly flattering, and hardly the Next Big Thing. What's next--a practical Ugg sportsbra?

Adam and I have been UglyDoll lovers for quite some time now. Wage is our favorite (sorry UglyDog and Ox!) He's orange with a denim smock, as you can see, and usually appears to be about a foot tall. (We came across SuperWage in a storefront in Soho.) He works at the local Wal-Mart knock off, though they don't know he works there. He just goes, and he helps people. Of course he does this while we're at work so he's in and out before we even miss him. (Duh!) The last time I felt such an affinity for an inanimate play object was during the Cabbage Patch Kid craze of 1985. What the heck did I do with myself in those intervening 20 years!?

Yep, brilliantly left the digital at home and wound up buying a half-dozen cameras clad in denim or Barbie-themed cases. So we're just glad that a few good pics came out. This selves-portrait was taken on the beach in Sintra, about a half hour from Lisbon. We rode this little trolley down tracks along the road from the center of the town (which, in European fashion, features an imposing castle atop a massive hill) to its last stop and lo and behold, hello beach! (We didn't know where it was headed, you see.) We bought a bottle of $5 wine, had the kind shopkeeper uncork it for us, and swigged while enjoying quite a blustery beach experience. Isn't my husband snackable?! Yum...lucky me. =)

Sigh! Our wedding ceremony was held on the beach in Ocean City, NJ on September 25, with about 120 guests in attendance (many barefoot). It couldn't possibly have been more lovely!

Here I am moments before taking my dad's arm and walking--rather, shlepping--down the sandy aisle in my sparkly silver sandals. I have to put in a plug here for Kimera (kimeradesign.com), a dress shop in Brooklyn. Yvonne Chu, the owner, made my dress from shantung silk fabric I bought in India four years ago. My sash (not sewn into the dress) was sewn from fabric I ordered online from Japan. Yvonne is amazing--and literally 1/10 the price of another dressmaker I'd consulted with. The florist, Manic Botanic in Ocean City, NJ, took a swatch of my sash fabric for inspiration. I was blown away by how gorgeous the flowers were. Thank you, thank you!

Aren't they a good-looking pair!?

We prepare to say "I Do!"

I love this photo: reminds me of how laidback and free-spirited the ceremony (and our friends & family) were.

Here we're dancing to Eva Cassidy's "Songbird" at the Flanders Hotel in Ocean City, NJ. Thanks to a great dance instructor in NYC--we took all of two lessons--we didn't look like we were at the high school prom, as I'd feared. I lip-synced the words and looked right into Adam's eyes the whole time so I wouldn't screw up...I'm definitely not about to star on one of my favorite TV shows--"So You Think You Can Dance?" anytime soon! Adam was awesome.

When our friend Marc, the DJ, announced that it was time for us to cut the cake, I ran over to him to ask where the cake table was. Whoops! That's how busy we both were mingling, dancing and enjoying the occasional sip of wine. Adam found it, too, and it's a good thing--apart from a swab of pink cotton candy on a paper stick, that bite of chocolate cake was the only food I ate all night! My mom later said, "I'm so glad you two didn't smush the cake into one another's faces." Darn--if only we'd taken two minutes prior to consider how we'd deal with the cake-cutting part of our celebration. Could've had some fun with it...