My Spirit Animal is Plump and British

No, I am not talking about Prince George.

If you know me well, you are fully aware of my love of Bridget Jones. I have only read half of the first book, so my admiration is solely based on Renée Zellweger’s portrayal in the two movies (Bridget Jones's Diary, and Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason). Full disclosure: I am not Zellweger’s biggest fan, to say the least, which is why I am surprised that I love this character so much. In fact, I feel as if I am watching a documentary of a lovelorn, plump British woman trying to come to turns with her lack of self-esteem.

Without throwing a pity party, I deeply relate to Jones and her misgivings. I, too, have issues with my weight, addiction to cigarettes, relationships, and inability to realize that world is not against me. We are cut from the same cloth, so to speak, even though I am not British or a white female. Actually, her circumstances are much better than mine. She has her own apartment, her parents are reasonably supportive and she has Colin Firth and Hugh Grant pining over her (sigh). Basically, she is a more successful version of me, or at least me in 10 years (fingers crossed).

We all have a little bit of Bridget Jones in us. You know, that feeling of intense insecurity followed by the realization that you are “perfect just the way you are” (a quote from film). And if you don’t this, you do now.


More Is More At Verdura

I always get a euphoric feeling after leaving the 12th floor of 745 5th Avenue, the address of the Verdura showroom. With shelves of baroque pearls, gilded tiaras and more gemstones than a pirate’s booty (hehe!), it is truly a jewelry lovers delight. And being a magpie myself, I would one day hope to have a piece from this venerable maison. To be exact, I would love to have a Maltese Cross Cuff in ivory with red rubies, but anything will suffice.

Ever since I was intern at Vogue’s jewelry department, I have been in awe of the brand. And with names like Coco Chanel, Marlene Dietrich and the Duchess of Windsor as clients, I am determined to be part of this rather distinguished roster. (Seeing as pockets are empty at the moment, I would like you to know that my birthday is April 12th and I celebrate Christmas).  

This year, Verdura is celebrating 75 years in the business with a limited-edition collection, which includes a gorgeous amber bracelet and the stunning Theodora Cuff (a close rival to my baby, the Maltese). Though there are many things to be said about the house that Falco de Verdura built, just know this: If anyone ever gifts you Verdura, marry him/her immediately because a) he/she has money, b) he/she knows that jewelry is the only acceptable present, and most importantly c) he/she has taste! 

20 Dollars Or Less

My brother said it best: “God made you big so you don’t spend all your money on clothes.” Sure, this statement hurt when I first heard it, but I have to agree with him—and so does my bank account. Ever since I was a munchkin, shopping with my mom at both thrift stores (she did love a bargain) and Saks Fifth Avenue (she also loved Gucci handbags), I have enjoyed the thrill of scrounging for that gem, that one item I wore so often that it became unrecognizable in a few years. And because I was on the heavier side, finding that great sweater or jacket in my size was rare.  

Now that I am older, I still shop with the same gimlet-eyed precision. Luckily for me, one of the best thrift stores so happens to be in my neighborhood. Unique, as the name suggest, houses racks and racks of the chicest, yet most peculiar pieces. My leopard print booties and Daisy Duke-esque overalls (don’t worry, I don’t wear these often) all come from this, well, unique destination. And aside from Loehmann’s and Target, it is the only store within walking distance. That said, I still venture to the Saks and Barney’s sale more often than I wish to. But when it comes to my wardrobe, expect most things to be 20 dollars or less. And I still look like a million bucks—even with a size 36 waist.

The Glass Half Full

As a recovering pessimist, I try to look at the glass half full. And seeing as I will be sharing my thoughts to you, the general public, I'll spare you my rants. I save that for my family, who I think get a kick out of it. Rather, I will take this outlet to express what I love, what inspires me, and what make those sour days seem sweet.

Though I may never garner the same pedigree as, say, Leandra Medine, Scott Schuman or Taylor Davies, I am tacking a crack at blogging. I hear it can be lucrative.

The Glass Half Full