Author: Christy DeSmith

What’s the next featured designer for Target’s Go International line? Alice f#@king Temperley! Eek! I love this designer. And if the sample image at right is any indication, this line won’t be the disappointment that Libertine is/was. It’s supposed to hit stores September 16. But if past experience is any indication, you can look for it late morning on the 17th.

While we’re on the topic of Target, I see that one of the scribes at Elle magazine recently got her hands on some samples of the Loeffler Randall for Target collection, which will debut early next year. (Hot damn, I love me these loafers at left!) So proud we can feel about our hometown discount megachain. But, much as I love fawning over (and anticipating, and scrutinizing) Target’s Design For All items, I’m curious to know how many of you actually wear these clothes. Me, I continue to adore the Proenza Schouler for Target jacket I picked up at the Salvation Army last year. But all the other stuff – the Tara Jamon cotton tee, the Patrick Robinson cotton dress – has found its way into my running wardrobe or sleepwear collection.

Two great events to be aware of this week:

Soo Visual Arts hosts +/- (or “plusminus”) Thursday evening, an event at which locally hand-made clothing, jewelry, and household items will be available for sale and show. My picks of the lot are Labrador, a collective of local clothes-makers, and Milkypop, the pseudonym of a brilliant jewelry and clothing designer named Megan. This is the girl who stitched the white dress at left, which I own; and I am forever thankful to her for it. Although, uh, remember when I said I overcooked my Glamorama getup? I cropped out as much of the atrocity as I could. Sorry to have ruined your dress, if only for one evening, Megan …

Second: Stephanie Lake of the Minneapolis-based Bonnie Cashin Foundation just emailed to announce a weekend rummage sale by her and her well-heeled friends Coco Iverson and Pam Mondale (that’s Ted’s wifey, I believe.) Will there be a selection of vintage Cashin, preferably that long, lime-green coat with toggle enclosures? Ms. Lake promises clothing, accessories, and decor with price tags ranging between $5 and $500. Here’s the address: 3800 France Avenue. The sale is open Friday, August 24 from 9 a.m. to noon and then 4 to 7 p.m.; on Saturday August 25, check in between 9 a.m. and noon.

Oh, and p.s. To the chump who stole my wallet yesterday and thereby made it difficult to shop at the aforementioned events: May the commerce gods (and the fraud alert on my credit report) strike down upon thee. May bad karma pour from the heavens and land atop your kepi. May your finger get severed by the industrial zipper of my go-go-gadget CK wallet, circa 1993. Jerk!

I’m afraid I was overcooked for Glamorama on Friday night. I arrived to find a throng of ladies in gowns and cowboy boots, which struck me as a tasteful way to celebrate the year’s theme. Barb Heinrich (above), owner of the fabulous Uptown shop Local Motion, represented this look. Me, I was dudded out in boots, western belt, ginormous buckle, and a dress that can only be described as appropriate square-dance attire.

I was seated next to Jahna Peloquin (below), a local stylist and, as of late, freelance scribe. She found this dress in a San Francisco thrift store and thought to herself … Loretta Lynn.

Anyhoo: There were also plenty of folks who’d come to see the Muzik Mafia–they gave themselves away by wearing concert tees and (gasp!) jeans. And, I’m afraid these people were probably much confused, as were the folks who’d come to see touches of western fashion. I didn’t spy an overwhelming current of country amidst the Michael Kors, Temperley, and Marc Jacobs collections. But there were the related coon hats, Bordello dresses, and Big Daddy Kane fur coats. As for the folks who’d come to see the Mafia, they were likely scratching their heads at the unrelated pencil skirts, English riding clothes, and high-waisted pants.

It was your typical fashion show: lush, indulgent, a little bit pointless, very much exciting. The lighting struck me as being a bit dim for these purposes (note: my Elph couldn’t quite capture the shirtless male models prancing about in stage fog), but the image was sure pretty while it lasted.

Thursday, sigh. Hell week persists. And, worst of all, these scrumptious little teasers keep cropping up in my inbox. First it was the Jeffery Cambell “Mabel” Bootie at left (from Nordstrom – thanks to Alexis at Lola Red for pointing it out – this might be appropriate footwear for Glamorama). And, then it was a promotional email from Net-a-porter proclaiming: The skirt is back! “Whether the mini or the swing.” Well, hallelujah.

It’s a busy week here at Rake Media Worldwide as we put finishing touches on a September issue. But here’s the light at the end of my tunnel: Countdown to Friday’s Glamorama event, in case you missed my little preview over the weekend. So excited am I that I carved out some time to pull together my own glamorama getup: cowl-neck Tracy Reese dress (it’s turquoise!) paired with leather belt, pewter-n-mother of pearl belt buckle with a lil’ horsey’s head painted at the center – formerly owned by my father (d’OH – why didn’t I take of picture of THAT last night), simple hoop earrings, and my loose-fitting, Jim Barnier white boots (above) with the floppy straps.

Notice: There is actually a respectable fashion event going down tonight. However, in my dual roles as theater and fashion writer (and a triple as a full-time employee), I’m afraid I’ll be missing Commingle in favor of catching one, maybe two Fringe Festival shows this evening. Nevertheless, my fashionable friends, this Commingle show was a fine piece of entertainment when last year I saw the thing. The clothes weren’t all that, as I recall (at least for the likes of an old lady like me). But the music was topnotch.

I was knee-deep in the September issue, folks, when this intriguing press photo came across my desk. Oh, dear, how I love to eliminate pantylines. (I like to think there isn’t yet a cellulite problem back there.) But let this be known to the marketers of these products: No pantylines equals unwanted attention for adult, professional ladies (such as me). Why, just last week I was walking home from work in lovely a cotton summer dress when two fellas pulled up in their pickup truck to inquire as to whether I was wearing underthings. Needless to say, this isn’t the sort of attention I’m after when I take good care to smooth out backside cinch. Just thought you should know.

This is perhaps not an appropriate time to talk fashion, but here goes: First off, I noticed the fall “trend report” was recently posted at Style.com. And get this: “winged migration”–as in feathers, friends–gets an honorable mention. Doubtful that this trend will make its way to Minnesota. Heh.

Also, thanks to Jezebel and Valley Wag for making fun of blue shirts, the new standard issue of male office workers everywhere. Earlier this week, I found myself in an elevator with two men–both wearing blue button-ups and khakis. Next time you’re staring into the chasm that is your closets, fellas, do us all a favor and pass by the blues and the vertically-stripped button-ups. In any case, the mockery brightened my Friday. And this Friday is a dark, dark place.