I've been told that sometimes when I write about women I love, that my posts become sapphic. That's okay with me. This post will be of the sapphic variety, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. No, I'm not trying to kiss-up, this is just how this post came together. And no, I don't care if it gets re-tweeted by @peoplesrev, but that would be fun.

When I went to fashion school at FIDM San Francisco (8 years ago now,) I was put into a little exclusive group of students and we stuck together through all our classes until we graduated. We were special because we had all already had college degrees and were working full time. Every Tuesday & Thursday night (and sometimes Wednesdays too) at 6 PM for 2 ½ years, we showed up with our assignments, got critiqued, got lectured, and got through the evening. We were a tired, stressed, underpaid little family of friends, but we kept each other together. Most of us worked in the fashion world by day during school, and continued on to even better companies and better jobs post-graduation.

We were vastly different from the rest of the girls who went to FIDM who weren’t in this group. Those girls were fresh out of high school, drove BMWs, had beautiful blown-out hair, wore skinny jeans and off-the-shoulder tops, and could barely fulfill their English requirement. Okay, so maybe that’s a generalization, but it’s pretty close to the truth.  

At the time I was working in the corporate offices of a major fashion luxury brand, and felt like I was ahead in this matter. The real world doesn’t hire fashion twiglets like these girls, right? They may be in school because their rich parents don’t know what to do with them, but beyond that? The real world wants people with a work ethic, who answer in complete sentences, not people who just sit there, look vacantly pretty, and leave at 4PM for happy hour. That’s how it works, despite what they may show you on TV. Still, the twiglets kept coming (and thriving) in the fashion world of my experience, and there's just no Twiglet-busters to call in dire circumstances.

This was why I was so surprised when Lauren Conrad got hired at Kelly Cutrone’s People’s Revolution in LA. True, she was at the time the anchor “character” of a white-hot MTV reality show, and while the hire was clearly scripted, I could sense that Kelly Cutrone wouldn’t have hired her if she thought the girl was pure fluff and nonsense. The same goes for Whitney Port. However, I could be the one who's wrong here; just based upon the talent and reputation of Ms. Cutrone, she obviously picks her favorites with a very discerning eye.

Like everyone, I wanted more Cutrone after The Hills and The City. She was the one balanced voice of rationality on those shows, consistently calling bullshit when appropriate, with a “fucking” for extra emphasis. A Twiglet-buster extraordinaire. It was refreshing to watch her work on these shows, but you could also tell that this effort was meant these girls to wise-up and get real about the working world.

With the debut of Bravo's Kell on Earth, you could see that this was indeed true. People’s Revolution serves as a nurturing microcosm of the fashion world, running on tough love and realistic expectations. If you’re smart and contribute, you stay. If you can’t hack it, you leave. Ms. Cutrone and her partners give more than a fair dose of chances to people, even to those who clearly won’t rise with the cream.

Olvia, Whitney, Roxy & Erin - Fashion Twiglet Convention (Erin excepted!)In one episode of The City, when Ms. Cutrone rightly expressed her disappointment to Roxy and Whitney for in-fighting during a fashion show. Roxy, in her style, responded with: “She didn’t even say one nice thing,” to which Kelly immediately let it rip. While this scene was especially gratifying since we all love a good Cutrone-style dressing-down, you could tell that Ms. Cutrone doesn’t need to justify herself to anyone. If Roxy can’t even figure that out after first-hand interaction, then she is the ultimate dippy fashion twiglet. Badly done Roxy, goodbye.

I spent this past weekend reading Ms. Cutrone’s new book If You Have to Cry, Go Outside from cover to cover, and found it just as refreshing, forthright, and exhilarating as the lady is on television. It’s a tale full of humor, wisdom, spirituality, and business-savvy, all of which make it equally engaging and practical. I’ve already recommended it to a few friends, especially those who’ve been in the fashion world for a few years. (For us, it's especially exciting to know someone in the industry IS doing something in the effort of twiglet extermination.)

My friend Lee & I talked about it the other night and she mentioned “I told my team that Kelly Cutrone was my hero, and that ‘if you have to cry, go outside’ was my new office rule.” And with a twinkling, wicked little smile she added: “ I think they’re all scared of me now.” We both agreed that we were this close to flying to New York and banging on the door of People’s Revolution to tell Kelly we wanted to work for her, even just to provide some Operations organization to get the printers up and working. Heck, I’d probably even do it for free.

I’m so happy that the industry I love - the fashion world of so much fluff and twiglet-dom, has someone like Kelly Cutrone to knock heads together and get the shit done. I love someone who doesn’t compromise on quality or expectations, who balances a cocktail of fear and love to get results, but who is inherently full of kindness and joie de vivre.

Kelly Cutrone is a teacher for all of us, in all types of business and life, and although I may never meet her she'll be one of my idols for years to come. Vive la Cutrone!

Oliver Peoples' Guiselle Sunglasses

However, I think a fantastic detriment to the habit of loss is to invest in a really great pair of sunglasses and tend to them like they're your baby. That's what I did when I first bought a pair of Oliver Peoples sunglasses way back in 2003. I had some money and really wanted to get a fantastic bit of eyewear. There comes a time in every girl's life when she needs to step it up in the accessories department, and 2003 was my year to do this.

The choice was perfect. A golden amber plastic frame, brown but not too dark lens, and while I knew the label was luxe, I loved that it wasn't flashed all over the place. Simple, understated, and flattering. What more could I ask for?

True, the price tag was quite a bit more than what I was used to, but I had resolved to make a strong investment in something I was going to be wearing a lot. I'm not sure what I paid, but I think it was around $300. Steep, but considering just how much wear I got out of them, the price really worked out!

Me in my Oliver Peoples (right) & my friend Genevieve (left) in Ensenada.See, I lost those very Oliver Peoples sunglasses this week. They've vanished into thin air. (Okay, there may be one additional place where I may have left them, but haven't had a chance to look into it yet.) This is my first meaningful sunglass loss, and I'm so very sad about it. These sunglasses were simply fantastic. I wore them almost every day for SEVEN YEARS. I wore them on my face, on my head, on long business trips, and short pleasure trips. They got sprayed with noxious liquor at Papas & Beer in Ensenada, Mexico and sauntered along the Champs-Élysées. They even rode (and ran) with me during both of my triathlons, and the weeks of training that went into those races.

2003 seems like such a long time ago. Thinking back I've thought of all that's happened over those years, good and bad, and while I've changed handbags, wallets, jobs, apartments, boyfriends, jeans, coats, haircuts, and even hair colors (strictly natural now,) the sunglasses have remained the same.

Since I've lost them, I've thought about the investment and I realize that those Oliver Peoples sunglasses were the best $300 I've ever spent. If you look at the cost per wear, it really gets amazing. Even if I wore them half-time, divided out over seven years that's 1278 days of wear. Divided by $300, that works out to..... $0.23 cents per wear. Yeah.

I can't see my exact frame on the Oliver Peoples website at the moment. I thought of looking inside my frames to check the name, but I had forgotten that they're gone. Le sigh. The closest thing I can find that they look like are the Guiselle, but without the metallic edge. To replace them, I'm thinking a great burgundy frame or a classic tortoise would be fantastic. It would match the mood I'm in these days, or at least the mood I aspire to these days.

Yes, times are tough and while I know it would be a sound investment, $390 is very much out of my league at the moment. The barely-surviving-on-freelance salary doesn't afford many luxuries like this any longer. But still, I'm okay to just moon over them from afar and know that if I had the money, these sunglasses would last me well into the next decade. Barring any unexpected losses!

But over the years I've found that the thing I love most is the character of Holly. Like the other much-adored New York Holly (Golightly), she's a kooky mixed-up mess and has a fashion sense to match. Even still, there are certain elements that are pure perfection simply because the character owns the look so completely. Like Annie, her style also incorporates menswear, but with some unexpected feminine elements that make the look much softer. Her look is sweet and airy, high and low, full of vintage, objet trouvé pieces that probably came from a boyfriend's closet or a local flea market. Even at her worst, Holly's sartorial mix shows the true New York bohemian that lies within.

When we first meet Holly at the beginning of the film, it's a family Thanksgiving at her sister Hannah's house. Although the sisters are close, it's clear that Holly is harboring a few issues deep down. Her black and white floral print dress is topped by a classic mens houndstooth blazer, cinched at the waist with a belt. A scattering of vintage brooches on the lapel softens the look, but this structured style manifests the nervous discomfort she has in the scene.

Holly is a bit of a mess, and we're shown that her frenetic self-destruction has been going on for a while. When we see Holly & Mickey's first date in a flashback, she's smoking incessantly with one hand, and snorting coke with the other. Her crisp white blazer is totally out of place at the punk show she chooses to take them too, and she is equally out of place later on during Bobby Short's show at The Carlysle. She's over-accessorized herself - a scarf here, big necklaces there, and wrists full of big bracelets - it's all too much. While Holly claims she's hip, chastising Mickey for not being fun, she's the one that's completely insecure.

While Holly makes continued attempts in the acting world, she and her friend April (played by Carrie Fisher) open the Stanislavski Catering Company to earn some money on the side. It's interesting to note that Holly asks her sister Hannah (already a successful actress) to help her to pick an outfit for her audition. Hannah (played by Mia Farrow) is a classic through and through, so it's no surprise that she would lead Holly toward this buttoned-up ensemble that resembles a suit from the 1940s. It's also no surprise that Holly bombs the audition. The vintage style does seem to suit Holly, but she's still uncomfortable in her own skin and seems small on the stage.

Immediately after her audition, April comes in and knocks her song out of the ballpark, effectively making Holly a footnote in the open call. As they walk down the street, the two friends have an argument about a man they've both been dating, and the friendship (as well as the Stanislavski Catering Company) soon comes to an end. I love this look because while April looks like the standard 1980s New Yorker, Holly shows her vintage ecclecticism to full effect. A man's topcoat is paired with a vintage cloche, bright scarves, brooches, a huge basket tote (de rigeur in the 1980s), and finally a charming pair of Fair Isle mittens.

At the next Thanksgiving, Holly has given up on acting and is trying her hand at writing. While this makes for some conflict with Hannah, you can see that she's beginning to pull herself together. Her spunky personality is beginning to come through and she seems much more relaxed and self-assured. Her kicky ensemble of trousers, baseball jacket, and dark green Jack Purcell sneakers is so fantastic that I'd wear it even today. When we see her arguing with Hannah in the next scene, she's beginning to mix her punk sensibility with her soft, vintage side. The 1940s-cut dress is perfectly embellished by another scattering of brooches (possibly the same group from the first Thanksgiving?) and a pair of punk chokers. In this scene it's clear that Holly is coming together while Hannah is coming apart.

My favorite Holly outfit (and one of my favorite film ensembles ever,) comes when Mickey and Holly reunite in a record store. Holly has clearly come into her own and is freely mixing her favorite pieces with confidence and charm. A vintage sailor's blouse is covered by a classic jean jacket and then a masculine top coat finished with her usual touch of sparkling brooches. A jaunty black beret is also given the brooch treatment, finishing the look to perfection. It's obvious that she's come full circle, is happy, ready for a real career, and even a real love.

When Holly reads Mickey her script in the next scene, she's wearing a breezy oversized plaid shirt and a black menswear vest; a pairing which is back in style again today, 24 years later. Her scarf is tied in a bow in her hair, bringing a sweet touch of femininity. She seems to have grown younger through the course of the film, even as years have passed. As we say goodbye to Holly & Mickey (for another year), they're seen in a long shot in the park, where Holly has covered this outfit with a vintage fur coat, bringing a self-assured and glamorous finish to her quirky look.

Every time I watch this film I want to go shop on Haight Street and find a vintage sailor's blouse and a few more brooches. Or, at the very least I want to find some Grandpa's closet and raid it for funky old coats and hats.

I think that Holly shows a great lesson of life: that you are what you wear, even if it takes you a long time to put together the right ensemble.