The Cult of St. John

In its heyday, St. John Knits was the uniform of a certain kind of woman: professional, polished, and (ahem) established. Its jackets featured 22k gold-plated and hand-enameled buttons. It hems were knit-in, not sewn.  Its fabrics were famously forgiving, and could be taken in or (more often) let out through a steaming process called blocking. It did Reagan Red like nobody's business.

When I was in high school, the company took out a full page color ad every Sunday in the L.A. Times Magazine featuring Kelly Gray, the daughter of the company's founder. Kelly Gray stretched out on a zebra-skin rug with shirtless male model. Kelly Gray standing by a limo with a bevy of handsome shirtless male models. Kelly Gray lounging poolside in Brazil with (you guessed it) even more shirtless male models.

Kelly Gray's world couldn't have been more different from mine, but I loved her, as did St. John's legions of rabidly loyal fans. Then, the unthinkable happened. The Grays were pushed out, and the new owners inexplicably chose Angelina Jolie as the brand's new face. Angelina Jolie, who promptly broke up Brad and Jennifer. Angelina Jolie, the embodiment of every O.C. trophy wife's greatest fear. The fans were not happy.

After some back-pedaling, St. John survived, and its multi-level store at the South Coast Plaza remains a haven for shoppers seeking gala-ready gowns and impeccable service. I was lucky enough to find a sequined gown just prior to the Jolie scandal at an outlet in Vegas. I'll show it to you in two weeks when I wear it to the Junior League's prom casino night. But with the exception of a couple of jackets bought on sale for my mom for Christmas gifts, I bought no other pieces of St. John's Santana knits.

So imagine my joy when I walked into Second Time Around in Torrance last weekend and found a stockpile of new-with-tags St. John. I walked out with this skirt, originally $300, but marked down to $50.

Knit-it hem

The Nordstrom tag is still attached!

I picture it with a low-slung gold chain belt. Perhaps an over-sized brooch. Nude hose, for a bit of Nancy R. camp.

In case you are feeling badly for the Ms. Gray, don't. She and her mom have just launched a new line, Grayse, which will no doubt have as solid a following as their old venture.

A Sweater Only a Mom Could Love



Oh, the humiliation.

I have a confession to make: I am a huge QVC fan.  At the end of excruciatingly bad weekdays, I flop onto the bed with the Merry Dog, down a dry martini, and watch the overly-animated QVC hosts talk up the pros of heat-treated topaz rings, 15" Dell laptop computers, and patent-pending cellulite creams.

It's all television gold, but my favorite segments are devoted to the Christmas sweaters created by the evil geniuses at Quacker Factory.  By any sartorial standard, these sweaters are just...awful.  In fact, they are so awful that, out of concern for your precious eyeballs, I'm not even going to provide a link to them, lest you be tempted to gaze upon their blinding glory.  Google at your own risk.   

But my reptile brain is entranced by these horrid little sweaters. Is it the gaudy flash of red and green rhinestones? (Sequined evergreen trees! Bedazzled candy canes! LED reindeer noses!) Or maybe the earnest testimonials of call-in guests who gush about their Quaker Factory sweaters of Christmases past and present? ("You won't see yourself coming and going in one of these sweaters!")

I don't know.  I do know, however, that I am not alone in this sick obsession with the Ugly Christmas Sweater.

Over the past several years, the U.C.S. competition has become a popular Yuletide event. In the beginning, it was easy fun.  Raid your mom's closet, grab at random one of the many, many (why, Lord, so many?) red scratchy cotton-acrylic blend crewnecks with seasonally-appropriate 3D appliques, and you were good for at least third place. 

But the competition this year is fierce. Several of my friends have remarked upon the difficulty of obtaining a truly ugly U.C.S.  Previously reliable sources (e.g. Aaardvark's in Redondo Beach) sold all the "good" ones weeks ago to hyper-prepared hipsters. Many a party-goer is resorting to embellishing a not-ugly-enough U.C.S with holiday pins or puffy-paint pens. Is this cheating, or at the very least, not in keeping with the found object spirit of the competition?  Purists say yes.   But you'd be surprised how low people will stoop when a bottle of Bailey's is on the line.    

Wardrobe Essentials: The Structured Handbag

Earlier this summer, the sight of a British royal carrying a particularly smashing bag caused such a spike in online traffic to its manufacturer's website that it crashed.  Since then, sales of the brand's bags have increased 58%.  Who is this trend-setting royal, you ask?  Kate?  Pippa?

 

Nope.

 

The Queen has been carrying Launer London bags for decades, but the rest of the world is only now feeling the love.  Why the sudden infatuation with the top-handled structured bag (a.k.a. the pocketbook, a.k.a the church purse)?  Try one on.  Go ahead, we'll wait.  Notice the chic-ifying effect.  Your newly improved posture (Mom would be proud).  The take-no-prisoners look on your face.

Yes, nothing says, "I am perfectly capable of running an entire empire, thank you very much," quite like a structured bag.  You may not want to drop $1,057 on a bag just like Lizzy's, or (Lord help us) several times that on the Grand Mammy of them all, the Kelly bag, but fortunately you don't have to.  You can find one at every price point. 

My personal favorite bag in this category is Louis Vuitton's (sadly) discontinued rendition, the Malesherbes. 

This bag was produced in several great colors (this bag looks particularly great in blue and yellow).  I picked up this one (below) a few weeks back for a song from a consignment shop.    

These bags look fantastic with Fall clothes, so stash your slouchy oversized hobos for a few months and embrace the lady-like look!