• Gluttony,  Lust,  Sight,  Uncategorized

    Kaftans, always

    My lovely and talented friend, Sandria, recently alerted me to Veronique Hyland’s NY Mag article, “How to Get Your Body Caftan-Ready for Summer.” Although I disagree with the author about a few points, mainly that wearing a kaftan means you can skip your bra and neglect basic hygiene. WTF. I do agree with her enthusiasm for kaftans and her desire to extol their virtues. Here are a few of my own tips for wearing kaftans and some amazing ones that you can buy right now. Kaftans are the true definition of GLAAAAM-OOOUUUURRR. They are not shlub wear.  They are not for the tired. Find a muumuu for that foolishness. If your breasts…

  • Gluttony,  Restaurants,  Taste,  Uncategorized

    Farewell, old friend. I go with Champagne now.

    There comes a time in every woman’s life when she realizes that everything that’s good ain’t good for her. For me, that time came not so long ago. On a cold Thursday night, I met my girlfriend at our local watering hole as I often do. I ordered and consumed my two vodka neat cocktails. That’s it. I had only two cocktails. I woke up Friday morning so sick that I almost thought of missing my 9 a.m. conference call. I didn’t miss my call (because I’m a straight G and G’s don’t participate in that weak shit) and suffered through the day convinced that this was some sort of aberration.…

  • Restaurants,  Sight,  Taste,  Uncategorized,  Vacay

    Twelve Random Tips for Planning a Luxury Vacation

    Greetings! It’s been a long while and a lot has happened, so instead of explaining, I’ll just jump right in. Last year I took the first real vacation (no laptop, no phone calls) that I’ve had in years.  Because I’m Daphne, I know no other way than to go big, so I splurged on a whirlwind  ten days in Asia. My trip began in Bangkok, marinated in Phuket and then ended in Hong Kong.  To sum up the experience in a word or two: fairy tale. Some deets: In Bangkok, my sister and I took a private boat tour down the Chao Phraya, toured Chinatown by night and sampled a little street food (not nearly as much as…

  • Gluttony

    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…

  • Avarice,  Gluttony

    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…

  • Gluttony

    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…

  • Gluttony

    Drinking holidays make me happy. Le 14 de juillet. Bastille, baby.

    I think I’ve perfected many different cuisines, but I’ve stayed away from French because I always thought all that butter, cheese, etc. leaves too much room for error.  Can you say scorched to freakin’ death? But for Bastille Day, I thought I would man up and at least try something not so difficile.  When I consulted the net, the croque monsieur was repeatedly described as an easy French dish.  And face it, who doesn’t love a ham-n-cheese in any language? The difference between good ole ham-n-cheese made in the US of A  and the French variety is the addition of béchamel sauce.  I was apprehensive but soldiered on like G…