Rachel Rachel Roy

So inexplicably, I started receiving Teen Vogue. Far be it from me to dismiss a magazine just because I'm light years out of its demographic, so I started flipping through it.
And you know what? I liked it.
Really, the photos and trends pointed out in the magazine didn't skew too young. Sure, there was an article on battling acne (an awful, awful condition that strikes all ages), but mostly it seemed — to me — like it might be geared toward college-age women.
I have to thank Teen Vogue for making me aware of designer Rachel Roy's lower-priced line, which is available at Macy's. Rachel Rachel Roy is fresh, fun, and I MUST find the cute white T-shirt featured in Teen Vogue that has a built-in rhinestone necklace. So cool. Try as I might, I couldn't find a photo of it online.
The good news is that starting Aug. 26, you can buy her entire line on her Web site, www.rachelroy.com. Here's hoping that T-shirt shows up there.

Identity Crisis

I'm so confused.
One day I'm an InStyle Trendsetter assigned to try out an old-lady moisturizer, and another day Teen Vogue arrives in the mail. With my name on it.
According to the label, my subscription just started.
Huh?
I've been anxiously awaiting the September Vogue, so I'm not sure what this is all about. But, I have to say, I am happy to skew younger.

A new product review

My e-mail inbox overfloweth.
I can't turn down any free offer — I sign up for newsletters, alerts, everything. So naturally I signed on to be an InStyle trendsetter since I can't resist the opportunity to try new beauty products (my jampacked medicine cabinet will attest to that).
When my chance to test-drive a new moisturizer arrived, I was tickled.
Until the full-size product sample came in the mail.
InStyle thinks I'm old — it was Olay Definity Color Recapture, which "perfects skin tone layer by layer, helping you recapture youthful luminosity."
Translation: It hides your nasty brown age spots and Sharpei-like wrinkles.
I never felt so dejected after picking up the mail.
Still, a deal's a deal, so I dutifully applied the old fart cream to my face daily.
It's not a bad moisturizer, actually. The formula is very light and does leave skin dewy looking, which is a must when you're an elderly woman like myself.
Matte is only for the young.
My only beef is the limited colors — there are only three. So the moisturizer — which looks enticingly like chocolate and vanilla soft serve swirled together — can look like a mask if it doesn't match your skin tone. This was my problem. I ended up applying it very lightly and only in those areas where I needed a boost, and it did just fine.
Did it "recapture youthful luminosity"?
Meh. Plus, I now need to recapture my self-esteem.

Selling myself for fashion

Oh, the things I will do for money.
On vacation, I allowed myself to be pulled in an innertube behind a motorboat at an ungodly rate of speed — it had to have been at least 65 mph although my husband insisted it was more like 35 mph — because the spousal unit promised me a $250 spending spree.
Who wouldn't do it for that?
Minor whiplash and butt burn (dude, hitting the water is like slamming into concrete at high rates of speed) are small prices to pay for some yummy, ruffled, zipper-edged Pour La Victoire flats, among other goodies.
And then, I did something else undignified. I completely pimped myself for the chance at winning something free from chickdowntown.com. Ever visit that Web site? It's pretty fab. Lots of great designers, very slick-looking photo shoots. I enjoy it quite a bit. Awhile back, I fell in love with a rosette bolero jacket — that cost more than $200 — so what did I do? Started making inane comments on the blog for the chance to win a $500 spending spree.
Well, chickdowntown.com got me again. This time I allowed photos of myself (gulp) to be posted and I talked about fashion....All for the chance at a free goodie.
It's a contest, and the more people who comment, the more likely you are to win. Check it out: http://blog.chickdowntown.com/my-favorite-pleasure-doing-business-band-skirt/
Please don't laugh. But, you could say something nice. :)
In the posting, I blathered about this super-cool Pleasure Doing Business bondage skirt. It's in the same vein as the Herve Leger skin-tight dresses. With its wide bands and rubberized fabric, that sucker would complete obliterate muffin top. But, who am I kidding? That is a date night skirt. I don't have date nights. I'm usually quasi-comatose by 9 p.m. In fact, on those very rare occasions when the hub and I go out, I fantasize about going to one of those by-the-hour motels — just to catch a nap. But the thought of those bedsheets skeeves me out.
Yuck.
So instead of the Pleasure Doing Business hot mamacita skirt, I opted for this Current/Elliott denim skirt. It's got that same vibe. But, with the longer length and tempered hoochiness, it's work appropriate.
Well worth the motorboat whiplash, I say.

A refreshing treat

It's hot.
Crazy hot — triple digit.
Now, I've endured these seventh-circle of hell summers every year since I was 6. So what makes it so hard to stand now? I just got back from San Diego. The thermometer never rose above 75. Seriously, if it weren't for the insanely tight and in short supply parking, I could do S.D. But, I failed the parallel part of my driving test. And, many, many years later, I haven't improved.
But, at least we can visit. And when we can't, we make watermelon juice. It's simple, delish and might actually be more refreshing than the fruit itself. Really.
You basically whir up watermelon cubes with water and add sugar to taste. The drink packs the taste of a heavy nectar but is thin, like juice. The top gets foamy and pulpy, and you can easily strain it, but I like the little bits. Sprinkle a touch of salt on top, and it's even better.
Try it.

Watermelon Juice
4-5 cups of cubed watermelon
5 cups of cold water
3 tablespoons (or more) sugar

First, put 2 cups of water in the blender. Add the watermelon. Whir it all up. Sprinkle the sugar; taste. I've added up to 1/4 cup of sugar — it just all depends on the sweetness of the melon.
Pour the puree into a pitcher along with the rest of the water. Serve with a light dusting of salt and enjoy. Pretend you're on vacation somewhere cool.

You know you're getting old when.....

....you see a commercial for a MINI VAN on TV and say aloud, "Ooooooh" the way you used to appreciate Porsches.
....you utter — more than once — "BECAUSE I SAID SO!"
....you're on vacation by the beach and people are partying and you just want to shout at them to shut up.....and it's 10 p.m.
....the arrival of the new, 60-gallon recycling bin makes you giddy.
....you can no longer decipher song lyrics to the music the kids are listening to. But, in my defense, the Jonas brothers do kinda slur their words.
....granny panties start looking pretty darn comfortable.

I *don't* DIE

Ah, Rachel Zoe. She's kind of like the Omarosa of Fashion Apprentice. Or, the Richard of Fashion Survivor.
You get my drift — you don't really like her, yet you're still drawn to her. You have to appreciate her talent — Rachel does know how to put an outfit together. But I think I would hurt myself if I had to listen to her every day. Which is the hangup I have with her new e-mail newsletter — I hear her in my head as I read it.
Talk about bananas.
So, anyway, the newsletter. I started subscribing when I heard she had it, and she recently highlighted designer Raquel Allegra, who takes recycling to a whole new, weird level. I'm all for recycling — canvas bags litter my car, so I don't have to kill any plastic trees when I shop. I love Vy & Elle, a Tucson-based company that creates chic bags and totes and accessories from recycled vinyl billboards. But, I can't get onboard with Allegra's recycling. You see, she uses cast-off shirts from the L.A. county jail.
Ew.
I don't care if it's been dyed and shredded and completely unrecognizable as jailwear, I would always be wondering if some suspected killer or rapist had just been wearing the very shirt I had paid more than $200. Naturally, I'm speaking in the hypothetical because I would never own something that had come out of the prison system OR that cost that much and was only a T-shirt.
Now, if a portion of the proceeds benefited victims' families, that might be a different story. But, it would still skeeve me out.