Lindsay Ferrier

Lately, my favorite fashion blogs fall into a category known as "street style." The authors of these blogs roam the sidewalks in some of the chicest cities in the world, snapping photos of women and men with inspiring style. I’ve begun using these blogs as a fashion reference far more than the online recaps of runway shows, because think about it. Are you more likely to take cues from a 90-pound woman wearing futuristic makeup and sewn into a leather/fur/chiffon creation as she struts down a catwalk?

Not long ago, one of my readers raved about the deals she finds at Goodwill. Oh, the designer handbags, the name brand dresses and jackets and tops and skirts! How fabulous it all was, and how CHEAP! And it occurred to me then that I hadn’t really gone thrifting since college.

When I saw them on sale at TJ Maxx for $4.99, I couldn’t resist.

They were Givenchy black fishnet stockings, made fabulous by ornate swirls and flowers. Although I technically was shopping for Christmas stocking stuffers, I put aside the tights for myself. I couldn’t wait to wear them with a simple black dress I already owned — I’d seen the patterned stockings/ little black dress look in a catalog and loved it. Once purchased, I wore them at the first opportunity — a trip to the grocery.

I spent a memorable Christmas break during college working at a mall lingerie store. Not only did I have to put up with men asking for my help in finding appropriately slutty sweet nothings for their sweethearts (miraculously, all of their S.O.s were “about my size”), but after Christmas, I also had to handle the exchanges of the all lingerie I’d sold, generally trading out the see-through stretch lace for comfy pairs of waffle-weave pajamas.

Atkins. 

The very word sends shivers down the spine of men and women everywhere. We’ve all heard about the controversial diet, and some of you might have even tried it. Friends told me it was rigid and difficult to follow, so I thought I’d steer clear of it, but after two weeks of dieting by simply counting calories, I’d hit a weight loss plateau. And since my husband was back on Atkins and had lost 15 pounds on it the first time around, I decided to bite the bullet and join him in hopes of giving my metabolism a little push.

I did a doubletake when I saw the ad, featuring a woman hanging from a fabric sling and contorted in some kind of transcendental pose. “Aerial Yoga,” it read. It looked weird. It looked … crazy.

I was so in.

As children, we believe that certain toys will give us the happiness we crave. The talking electronic dog will lessen the sting of the blows from the greasy-haired lunchroom bully. The video game console will help atone for our parents’ separation. The American Girl doll will plug the hole that opened in your soul after Arfy got hit by the UPS truck.
    Eventually, though, we grow up and realize that toys can’t really buy happiness. True joy can only be found in things like diamond necklaces, $150-per-ounce face cream, and 48-hour liquid diets.

As your beauty correspondent, I’ve been closely monitoring the fall fashions coming out of Paris right now, and I have some good news: the styles this season are remarkably easy to imitate!
    Yes, with a little imagination, a set of Bumpits, and an extra sharp hunting knife, you too can look as though Anna Wintour gave up her position at Vogue in order to become your personal shopper. Need proof? No problem!

Having spent the last five years as a work-at-home mom, I thought I had the appropriate uniform for the job pretty much down pat.
    What I wear each day consists mainly of jeans and the most stylish machine washable tops I can find, generally from Forever 21 or Ann Taylor Loft if I’m feeling nasty. I have nicer things, but since everything I put on ends up with some sort of stain on it within an hour or so, the more expensive dresses and tops get pushed to the back of my closet and saved for date nights.

Ladies, I have an announcement.
    THE EAGLE IS NOW … BALD.
    Yes, after years of flirting with the idea of getting a Brazilian wax, I finally did the deed and lived to tell you all about it.
    It couldn’t have come soon enough as far as my husband was concerned. When I began writing this column, I mentioned that I’d probably get a Brazilian at some point as part of the job. He’s been badgering me about it ever since.