Monthly Archives: August 2012

Dining en Blanc

I participated in my first flash mob.  No, I was neither singing nor dancing.  I mobbed in the manner I mob best – by eating.  Le Dîner  en Blanc converged on the grounds of the Art Institute for its first dinner in Chicago last Friday.

As the name suggests, white was the theme.  All white everything from the tables, chairs and tablecloths to the picnic baskets, suits and frocks.  So since I love a theme almost as much as I love a surprise, I donned my first pair of white shoes since lace ruffle ankle socks and Easter speeches.

The way it works is that members are only told a neighborhood meeting/’harmonization’ point and what to wear and bring.  Normally, members bring everything, but I cheated a little and rented a table and chairs and purchased food and wine from the organizers and had them all waiting for me at the venue. As you can imagine, daphne does not schlep well.

Led by a table leader who was in on the secret, groups from all over Chicago met up, set up and ate and drank the night away. It was a lovely evening and a great flip on the overdone white party.  I can’t wait for next year’s le dîner .  I’ll know what to expect and although the outfit most definitely will change, the shoes will remain the same.  Decent looking white shoes are hard to come by.

Check out some of my pics and more professional ones from Chicago Magazine.

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Six White Dresses for All White Everything

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

slip dress | one shoulder stunner | this dress | anchor’s away | winged wonder | goddess maxi

So it is said that Monday, September 3 is the last day of this year that white can be worn unless maybe you’re a nurse stuck in a uniform time warp.  Although I normally won’t let anybody who’s not contributing to the daphne debauchee wardrobe fund tell me what to wear and when, I’ll play along.  You look kind of dumb in January wearing a white cotton eyelet mini-dress with your snow boots.

So as the official end of summer nears and that awesome three day weekend approaches, you might have been invited to a BBQ or two.  Oh and I absolutely mustn’t forget the oh-so-original white party.  Tangent time: I just don’t get the whole white party thing anymore.  I’m not against them.  I even attended a kind of white party last weekend.  However, if you really want to impress me, throw a grey party.  I love the color grey, but that is neither here nor there.

Anyhoo, it’s your last chance, so whiten up by taking a gander at this homage to all white everything.  If you order now, like right now and with express shipping, you can probably have these white dresses before you hit the harbor for that Labor Day ‘yacht’ party.

 

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fringe benefits / they jinglin’, baby

I really love fringe and I’m blaming 80’s Stevie Nicks.   Each strand of fringe waves hello as you approach and shimmies goodbye as you depart. There’s a look-at-me quality.  Fringe is very easily the spirit fingers of clothing detail. What’s not to love?

Since I’d prefer not to look like an automated car wash or a Hair extra, I have to choose my fringe wisely.    Judicious use of fringe is the hallmark of a person whose fashion sensibilities are firmly planted in the here and now.

So the fringe I choose and that I love most is attached to my handbags. However, all fringe handbags are not created equal.  Only a few are deemed beautiful enough to receive debauchee approval.

Fortunately, there is no reason to fret.  There are some truly inspired offerings available to right now.  The best of which are Barbara Boner creations.  I dub her the princess of fringe. This woman knows my heart and I think I love her.  Well, I KNOW I love her fringe bags.  Check out hers and some others that make me jingle.

Barbara Boner Fringed Calfskin Tote | Acne Laurie Black Fringed Shoulder Bag  | Barbara Boner Atlantis Fingers Textured Leather Clutch | B-Low The Belt Twiggy Handbag | Barbara Boner Ginger Multi Fringe Leather Clutch

 

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cheap trick / holy skincare

As you may have surmised, I enjoy my expense ish.  This enjoyment bleeds into every area of my life and that includes skincare and beauty items.  Hell no, I don’t want NYX.  I want Nars.  Aveeno!  Are you crazy?  I only use Perricone.

Of course, it’s cool to say that I use Creme de la Mer moisturizer and dr. brandt pore refiner. However, as I and my skin care needs have matured, I find that some beauty maladies can be remedied without throwing a ton of cash at them.  As a matter of fact, some lower-priced, drug store products work better.

Behold the holy trinity of beauty on a dime: Amlactin Lotion, Milk of Magnesia and Hydrogen Peroxide.

Are you ashy?  Does your pedicurist cringe when she sees you walk in the door?  After your next pedi, slather on some Amlactin.  This lotion contains lactic acid which apparently is like Kryptonite to calluses and dry skin.   I promise your pedicurist will think your feet haven’t touched the ground when you return.  No, it doesn’t smell like organic, farm-to-le bain incense and myrrh, but for a measly $20 or so, you, and your pedicurist, will be singing my praises.

I just don’t like…for my pores to appear so big in pics that I look like I’m wearing flesh toned swiss cheese on my face.   Seriously, I’ve tried it all in my quest to achieve the look of Christy Turlington’s pore less skin. The products just don’t work.  Milk of Magnesia does.  Dab a TINY, repeat TINY, amount over the problem area.  Apply foundation and voila! Your skin is like Meagan Good’s.  (Maybe an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.)

For an occasional break out, OTC acne creams are the equivalent of killing an ant with a sledgehammer.  Enter hydrogen peroxide.  It’s not just for cuts and scrapes anymore.  The next time you wake up to see a zit yelling ‘Surprise!’, dab some HP on that bish, give it a couple days and au revoir.  And another thing, if sleeping over at your man’s and you don’t want to slap him in the face with your morning breath, gargle with it the night before.  Your breath will be remarkably neutral and ready for dawn delight.

And there are more.  For example, I no longer buy commercial face cleansers, but that’s another day and another post.  With all the savings, you have more money for boutiques and booze.  Don’t say I never gave you nothin’.

What are some drug store diamonds in the rough that you swear by?

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the bigger the better

Giant bags as a fashion statement may be so eight years ago, but I am still captivated by their allure in 2012.  I don’t feel right unless my bag is knocking merchandise off the tables and hip checking passersby as I examine possible new bag purchases at Dose Market.  Hell, I gotta lotta stuff.

I love me some them.  What do you think?

Clockwise from the right: Reed Krakoff ‘Gym’ Leather Tote / M Z Wallace ‘Metro-Large’ Nylon Tote / Bottega Veneta Nero Patchwork Intrecciato Nappa Lido Bag / Bottega Veneta Shadow Intrecciato Nappa Convertible Bag / Cast of Vices Corner Store Leather Tote / Acne Piers Tan tote / YSL Cabas Chyc Leather Tote / Givenchy Antigona Tote

 

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closing ceremony / pimm’s cup

I love a celebration, so I tend to create excuses to celebrate.  Blame my mother for making me an only child for so long.  I had a shitload of imaginary friends, parties and conversations, but that’s another story.  The excuse du jour is the Olympics closing ceremony.

I’m not celebrating the culmination of weeks of international excellence in sport or the victory, agony and defeat.  I am celebrating the end because I am sick of it all.  After gymnastics, I’m pretty much done.  Ryan Lochte just isn’t my cup of Earl Grey.   So I had an evening planned that centered around toasting the end of the Olympic takeover of all NBC channels and the return of actual news to my local broadcast.

Then everything changedThe Spice Girls are performing during the closing!  A real, and decidedly less negative, reason to celebrate. The Spice Girls performance makes up for all the times I was forced to watch the Olympic swim girls ‘Call me, Maybe’ video and subsequently considered waterboarding myself.

Of course, every celebration requires a signature cocktail.  And what better cocktail to celebrate the end of the London Olympics and my beloved Spice Girls than the Pimm’s Cup.

Of course, me being daphne, I got all fancy with it.  It’s kind of a gin salad. Here’s the recipe (I got it from Bon Appétit with a few debauched tweaks of my own).  Think more gin.

Try it and tell me if you liked it.

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daphne debauchee gets schooled, part deux

In less than ten minutes, our instructor, I’ll call her Felicia, began rearranging our host’s furniture to create auditorium seating.  “Sweetie” began passing out three prong folders, condoms, paper plates, grapefruit and knives.  What the what? I thought we were sucking, not cutting.  I can’t imagine any man feeling very sexy if he sees you whip out a knife from your goody drawer.  Nobody’s feeling that Lorena B shit.  Anyhoo and sip.

She then set up her speaking area in the front of her makeshift classroom.  She arranged dildos, condoms, DVDs, t-shirts, jewelry, books and whatnot on the table where our host serves her children’s toaster streudel in the morning.  I turned my back to talk to my neighbor.  The nervous excitement had amplified since our instructor arrived.  Well, not just excitement.  There was an air of nervousness.  Something about showing your BJ game in front of an audience of women seemed to make the ladies a tad uncomfortable.  “Oh my god, isn’t this crazy?  Do you want me to bring you back a drink?”  Yes stranger, I do.  It’s Friday and that’s what I’m here for.

When I turned back to the front, I noticed that Felicia spread out a drop cloth beneath her.  A drop cloth from Home Depot that most of us use to protect our furniture from paint splatter had been spread over the floor and our fearless teacher was standing in the center.  What the what, part deux? Another sip and we get started.

Why the drop cloth?  Because of all the spit!  Apparently, mind-blowing fellatio requires saliva in disturbing volumes.  I’m not trying to give away all of her “secrets.”  I knock no one’s hustle, but I’ll give you the gist. There are 10 slobbery steps to the perfect blowjob.  Also, each step is so amazing that rarely have any of Felicia’s students ever had to get past step 4.  As a matter of fact, she guaranteed that any man would pop after 5 minutes.  She also guaranteed absolutely no mouth or neck strain if her steps are followed properly.  And how can I forget that she also regaled us with aspirational stories of former students who have sucked their ways into Bentley coupes.  She even told us what sounds to make.  The sound is a combination of a growl, a food processor and Darth Vader on a megaphone.  Eye roll and sip.  Thanks, nervous stranger.

Oh and you remember that grapefruit? Felicia completed her teaching by giving us the pièce de résistance –“Grapefruiting your man.”  Yes, cut a hole in your grapefruit, insert penis and manually pleasure.  Don’t forget to blindfold him.  Apparently, there is an element of surprise involved.  Ummmm.  The element of surprise is the burn that will take hold once it works its way to his balls.

I polled a man or two after I left this class inebriated and confused.  Do you like for women to re-enact Star Wars while blowing you?  Do you enjoy citrus burn in your nethers?  The consensus was no.  Oh wellsy and sip.  (I drink outside of fellatio class.  Not my fault, we were talking about balls, dammit.)

The moral of this story is if you have the opportunity to attend a fellatio workshop, attend. Yes, my instructor was as crazy as a road lizard, but intermingled in all that cuckoo were a few good tips.  Don’t suck on a full stomach.  Spit rules.  And bring your own damned bottle.

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summer sucks / i dream of fall

 

 

vBecks leather legging

1. sweet sweatercuffpussy platforms

2. best blouse evahphurry patchwork perfection , ringsuper ringblue suede bootscrossbody classic

3. jacketstripesnecklace/bow tieclutchshoes/spats

As the perspiration glistens on my skin while commuting downtown only to be greeted by indoor temperatures equivalent to those of the Arctic, I dream of fall.  Because I hate summer.  Yeah, I said it.  Hate may seem like a strong word even though there are a few things I enjoy about summer – al fresco dining, the giddiness on the faces of city dwellers, street festivals.  But none of those things make up for 90+ temps, not knowing how to dress appropriately for work and the ubiquity of flip flops.

I dream of layers, boots, hats, scarves, darker, richer colors. So as I dream, like a lot of you, I surf.  No, I do not surf the waves, I surf all of my favorite fashion sites  for fall clothes that inspire me whether I can afford or fit them or not.  During one of these dreams, I came across a fall item of clothing that made me calculate how many meals I would need to miss to squeeeeeeze myself into it and if selling my eggs was actually a viable option.

That dreamy item of clothing is the Victoria Beckham midrise leather legging.  It is perfection.  It gives you the comfort and easy wear of a legging while stepping it up several notches in luxury and kickassery.  And unlike other leather leggings that tend to be on the low rise side, the rise in these bad girls is high enough to be easily worn by those over 20 with several cans short of a six pack.

And since I’m dreaming, I thought of ALL the ways I would wear ‘em.  A debauchee can dream can’t she?

 

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