Brooklyn, We Go Hard.

After two incredibly conspicuous hints over the past two days (first, that my news involves a brownstone, and second, that it comes with far less space than my current abode in the Queens Palace), I'm ready to reveal my big and fabulous announcement: I, KR, Queen of Queens, am bouncing boroughs to my dream neighborhood. While I'll always look back fondly at my times in Middle Village (for few locations house such happy memories of spending time with my amazing Grandma who called the Palace home before me!), it's time to graduate to a new home in Brooklyn Heights. Aside from the fact that I’ll no longer have to take the Q11 just to get to the subway, freezing my tush off at the bus stop each morning and night (albeit stylishly in my furry pink earmuffs!), I’m no longer living alone!! AD, my new roommate extraordinaire, and I bonded instantly over our mutual love of Foley + Corinna bags, sweet potatoes, GLEE and Strongbow... could I have gotten any luckier?!

Well, yes, actually. Because you see, my friends, family and phantom readers alike (hi, JW), this view is my backyard. Who's in for a housewarming?! Naturally, this will play on repeat.

Entrepreneurial KR Rocks the Shoe Rack

Another hint about the big news I'm going to share soon: it involves much less space than I've got right now... (Have you guessed yet?!)

So, in an attempt to make peace with that, I'm cleaning out shop. If you're a size 8 in shoes (and if that's your dress size, me and my hips send our evil envy), strut on over to my eBay shop and color your closet with some Cole Haan that I no longer need! I promise, I have impeccable taste.

A Little Something for the Toms

Getting complimented on my shoes amongst a never-ending sea of ladies in Louboutins just may be the most glamorous accomplishment I’ve had yet in my month-long time at ELLE—though the hallway hello I had from our iconic style director tops the list, as well. Now these shoes that received a compliment—or maybe it was just elevator small talk, but I’ll be optimistic for optimism’s sake—were not a pair of my most ferocious flats, stylish stilettos or bank-breaking booties. They were a pair of Toms. Toms!

I wore my cushy and—gasp!—flat (oh, the horror!) Toms last Friday, after weeks of clacking around the 42^nd floor of the Time & Life Building turned my ankles and arches into aching excuses for some R&R. Honestly, Toms are more like slippers than anything else, hence my hesitation to rock them in public (let alone at ELLE!), but I think the gold sparkles made them worthy enough for the fashion den. Or at least worthy enough in the eyes of this recessionista!

Naturally, in a perfect world, I’d die for my love of leopard to collide with the comfort I find in Toms, but as perfect as these are, I just can’t justify a $100 pair of slippers when my heart’s already been stolen by these…and these…okay, and these, too…

But, alas, I have embraced self-control in the shopping sphere (aren't you proud, Mamadukes?) due to the major news I'll share with y'all tomorrow. Hint: it involves a brownstone...

Things That Didn't Happen This Weekend

No, JT and I certainly did not binge on a total of 26 dumplings on Friday night in preparation for our Stonehill reunion out on the town. (Just like we never ingested full bags of hint-of-lime Tostitos in single sittings on several Sundays during our Stonehill daze (pun intended), while procrastinating a week's worth of work by watching episode after episode of Law & Order: SVU.)

No, I also didn't befriend a pink and green decked Father Christmas in Christopher Square during Saturday's SANTACON, nor did I prove my Vixen the Reindeer-ness (hence the leathaaa jacket, thank you Tory Burch sample sale) by striking a pose on the 1 train platform.

No, ML and I did not skip down 34th St., hand in hand, while singing Frosty the Snowman, hopping across the crosswalk like Buddy the Elf. ML also didn't use a Chanel lipstick to paint on her red Rudolph nose.

No, eight (ish) reindeer and one Australian version of St. Nick himself did not visit Rockefeller Center for some touristy fun to see the twinkling tree after an afternoon of SANTACON-ing, nor did they spend upwards of an hour posing for pictures with precious cherubs who wanted up close and personal shots with the jolly old elf himself... and his antler-wearing chaffeurs, of course.

And no, those eight (ish) reindeer did not watch their fair Vixen befriend the three ten-year-old boys who are all up for the lead in Broadway's Billy Elliot, nor did the voluptuous reindeer-ess show those Broadway bounds her box step, dance-off style, outside Radio City Music Hall, only to be--quite literally--out stepped by their aerial cartwheels and triple pirouettes.

Ha. If only I just told the truth... Can your weekend top that?!

Ho Ho Ho,

KR

Do You Zumba!?

Well, as of 6:15 yesterday, at the underground 50^th St. den of the fit and fabulous otherwise known as “chic-quinox” (thank you, AC!), I do! And I am absolutely hooked! For 45 sweaty minutes, I shook my “hips” and shimmied my “shoulders” to the tune of salsa, meringue and hip hop beats, all for the famed “leaner, longer bod” that Zumba! promises. Now, as a lassie from the Emerald Isle, I should probably stick to the jig and nothing but the jig. My grooving grace is less than fabulous, despite what I might think at 2:59 AM on Friday and Saturday nights when, while approaching last call at whatever Lower East Side dive I tend to find myself in by that point in the evening, I dance my nights away, truly convinced that I have more rhythmic clout than a Rockette. Or a Knicks City Dancer, like my Zumba! instructor, Cindya. (Seriously, I don’t mess around.)

But did I care? No way! I had a blast, I burned mad calories and I didn’t even think twice about the sad but true fact that my krumping looked like a spasm straight out of The Exorcist.

Pumpkin Pie’s got nothing on this Zumba!-ing machine!

Holiday Parties Are Upon Us!

After seventeen-ish rounds of "second" helpings, I emerged from my Turkey Coma on Saturday morning, ready to kick off the season of holiday parties with my characteristic joviality! In honor of RJ's 23rd birthday, I trekked to Park Slope with my favorite posse of New Yorkers, pictured below, where we enjoyed the sprawling space of his Brooklyn abode, in between bites of appetizers and sips of spiked cider. As the first Christmas-themed gathering of the season, I found it the perfect occasion to rock some rocking red lips and my "holiday" scarf. It was an awesome night in the awesome borough!

Awwwwwwww!

Faux-ulous

Fur is fab! Faux or actual (I’m most definitely not a member of PETA), fur in the form of vests, stoles and capelets have been catching my eye as of late, most recently within the walls of ELLE, where the most fashionable of fashion rock their furs in unexpectedly alluring ways (i.e. over a black chiffon dress or as a compliment to a sequined sweater). In my own attempt to jump on the animal-inspired bandwagon, I spent my lazy Sunday scouring the e-commerce marketplace for some fur to add to my own, ever-growing wardrobe. This find from TopShop was my favorite, but I’m holding out for something of the leopard print variety that’s not $600 (but nice work nonetheless, Adrienne Landau).

Any ideas?

My World's Colliding

My shoe obsession is not new news. Neither is my particular love for Tory Burch's Reva, the ultimate adornment in the ballet flat universe. Gold metallic? Check. Black leather? Check. Leopard calf hair? Check (and faint in utter shoe love/obsession). Pink patent? Check.

But isn't something missing there? Not anymore! Purple, the color I once hated but now bleed with pride (thank you, Stonehill), is now the newest addition to my ever-growing collection of Revas. They were on sale! And I needed them for my new job at ELLE! And I just love them! (People are so freaking stylish here!)

I need to stop buying shoes...

Or not.

Putting on Your Pout

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made some poor make-up decisions in my past, including but not limited to white eye shadow (ugh), blue mascara (ew) and lip liner that didn’t match the rest of my pout (the ultimate faux pas). However, in making these mistakes, I’ve learned some tried and true make-up application tips and techniques that are my go-to looks for various occasions. As of late, I’m obsessed with lipstick. Literally. Good old fashioned lipstick. From a tube. Just call me Joan Holloway. I'm so old-fashioned.

I have three shades that I rotate, which I’m sharing with you on this lovely Friday evening! For your everyday pink, I love Clinique’s Watermelon, which adds a little extra oomph to your 9-5 routine. For kicking things up a notch (or seventeen) for weekend shenanigans, I always rock Schiap by NARS, a bright shocking pink that warrants you wearing it with the ultimate confidence. And, for a wild and crazy red, I turn to MAC’s Ruby Woo, which can be a bit drying, but I love it nonetheless for it's complete lack of an orangey undertone.

Next up, I’m looking for a pale pink to add to my beauty arsenal… Any favorites? I’m eyeing MAC’s Snob and NARS' Roman Holiday…

A Dollop of Daisy... Buchanan!

The day I am finally confident enough in taking care of my own self, I plan to buy a dog. A guard dog. A guard dog that can crawl into my Louis Vuitton Speedy for a nap, that is. I’m thinking a little apricot malitpoo, or something equally cutesy. Like a shih tzu that was the runt of the litter and is not expected to exceed 3 pounds in its adult life. Or maybe just a stuffed animal… Yeah, that’s probably best.

I’ve had my future guard dog’s name picked out for years, ever since I realized that naming a pending pet after my favorite book character is the perfect plan. As such, my precious pooch (or, precious stuffed pooch, rather) will be named Daisy, after the Long Island socialite who stole the heart of the illustrious ol’ chap known as Jay Gatsby.

Le sigh. If only I grew up in the ‘20s. I would die to live as lavishly as those East Eggers did on the posh North Shore of Long Island in the roaring decade. But if you can’t live like ‘em, watch ‘em! On the silver screen, sometime in 2012, the charismatic Carey Mulligan will take on the role of a lifetime, opposite Leo DiCaprio’s Gatsby and Tobey Maguire’s Nick Carraway, as Daisy Buchanan in Baz Lurhmann’s adaptation of Fitzgerald’s classic tale of love and murder. O. M. G!

Naturally, this obscenely nerdy bibliophile can barely contain her excitement. Thankfully, I’ll have the cinematic versions of Harry Potter and crew to keep me sane for the weekend!

Bolting

This weekend, I learned that there is no better way to jaunt between the Big Apple and Beantown than by Bolt Bussing. Friendly passengers and a driver who looked like she won the lottery when I thanked her by name (Karla with a K, for those of you wondering) made for an enjoyable trip up and down on the WiFi-equipped coach. God bless le iPad.

In a fit of spontaneity, fueled in part by my sister's encouragement and my own wishes to relive college a bit before beginning my job at ELLE tomorrow, I traveled back to the days when my weekends were a blur of beverages, brunch and bargain shopping. After a low-key Friday spent rooting the Skyhawks on at the basketball team's home opener, the sis and I hightailed to Wrentham for outlet shopping, where an outrageously purple printed Marc Jacobs dress from Off 5th topped my list of fabulous finds. We then resumed the rooting for another victorious basketball game before putting our primp on in honor of Mr. Stonehill 2010.

As you might remember, I was one of the illustrious hosts for Mr. Stonehill 2009, so I just had to see the boys shine on stage once more! While it pained me to not be up there on stage, bending and snapping for a crowd a la last year, the gentlemen shut it down, making me feel like a proud mama watching from the audience. Props to MG for a job well done! His crown was well deserved--and he was looking quite studly indeed, I must say!

But as with all shows, the after party is what matters most! Without skipping a beat, I was back to my old tricks, dancing the night away to the tunes of Willow Smith and Ke$ha. Hair whipping, cycloning, popping, locking and dropping... I have mad moves.

Stay tuned for some tales from an ELLE insider as I begin my first week at my new job...

Until next time,
KR

Do I like Louboutins and Leather?

As I said to Mamadukes just seconds after this story happened, the following is such a “me” type of event. Let’s recap: after 22 years as an extreme nail-biter, I reward myself for kicking the bad habit with weekly manicures at the NY Nature Spa in Times Square, a spot just a hop, skip and leap over the subway grates away from my current office—and conveniently just a few extra struts away from my new digs at ELLE. Anyhow, yesterday, while Sookie (yes, that’s really her name, but no, she does not resemble Anna Paquin’s vampire-lovin’ Ms. Stackhouse on True Blood) painted my nails an awesome shade of army green (Essie’s new Sew Psyched), I welcomed the smile of the woman next to me, who was rewarding herself with some navy blue acrylic tips.

So rather than wondering were she was from, I asked! (Why not, right?) I should have guessed by her suede boots and glamorous scarf that she’s fresh off the boat from Milano, living in New York for a few months to learn English. Daniella, as I learned, has been here a mere two weeks, and has picked up more English in her brief time here than I could ever dream of learning in fourteen days. (I took Spanish for seven years, and all that remains is a love of tapas and a knowledge of the question, “Donde esta la sangria?”)

We got to chatting—clearly my New York-style speedy chatter had to be slowed down to the basics, but we had a great discussion about our mutual love of leather and Louboutins. And when she said she’s desperate for some friends in New York, I of course took her under my wing! From my amazing week in Italy back in 2008, I know the Italians like their vino quite a bit—so what better way to welcome my new and exciting European pal to the states than with some shopping and wine? I’m determined to show her New Yorkers are as friendly and fabulous as those who welcomed me to Europe’s delicious boot way back when.

Salute!

You Know What Halloween Means...

During my time as crazy JT's college roommate, at the second the clock would strike midnight on All Hallow's Eve, while everyone else was out being spooky and such, the two of us had a far more important agenda. That agenda was welcoming the Christmas season to our dorm with lights, decorations and a tree that took up at least two-thirds of our charming room. And of course, all of this was done while blasting Christmas carols louder than necessary. Keeping with that tradition, I have already started listening to Christmas music like it's nobody's business!

Here are some things I'm psyched about this holiday season:

-watching this YouTube video, which makes me crack up every time, even after the 97th consecutive viewing

-working in Rockefeller Center where the tree will be my backyard

-eating stuffing, twice-baked potatoes, biscuits and basically any carbohydrate-packed treat my 80+ year-old super Grandma cranks out of the kitchen

-listening to this song, which I like more and more each season

-and of course, seeing friends and family!

ho ho ho!

Buying Into the Bargain

I have never really been “one” for the superstores known as Forever 21 and H&M. While my closet does indeed boast a few infamous “going out” tops from both locations, I’m a quality-over-quantity kind of gal who would rather score the racks of TJ MAXX for hours and hours and hours to find an awesome silk blouse that will take me through the seasons than to fill my drawers with ten tops that I know will probably rip before I can even debut the garment.

But after reading my dear NB’s odes to both the recent F21 Times Square flagship and Lanvin’s upcoming H&M line, I had to revisit the retailers whose attire colored my 11PM-2AM wardrobe throughout my years at Stonehill, when everyone was too “college” to care if a shirt had a slight tear.

And let me tell you a-something: I was SOLD! Leaving H&M with SEVERAL dresses (a little sparkly low-back number here, a girly little lace piece there), I’m well on my way to having a newly stocked wardrobe that’s ready to take on the fashionistas at ELLE...or at least the fashionistas of my old high school on the night before Thanksgiving! (No matter where you work, low-back is never approps. Never.) F21, all four underground floors of it, proved to have some awesome options as well—naturally, I flocked to anything animal print.

Now if only I could find a cheaper version of this… That, my friends, would be total and complete wardrobe perfection.

Story By Story

Dearest Readers,

On Thursday, November 18th, I am ascending 42 flights of stairs in a New York City skyscraper for “Story By Story,” a fundraising event to support new beginnings for battered women and their children. Your support is most appreciated as Team Thomson Reuters climbs 756 steps to honor this important cause.

If you are interested in donating, my personal page is accessible at the following link:

http://storybystory.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=435176&lis=1&kntae435176=36F861709EEE4D03B713572FDD53B854&supId=309004437

Any contribution is much appreciated. Thanks in advance for your support--which I'm really going to need, as my thighs still hurt from walking out of the subway!

A Real Life Elle Woods

It is with great excitement that I announce today, that my life-long quest of becoming the next Elle Woods (minus the blonde hair) is well on its way: I have decided to take employment at the publication whose namesake is the same as Harvard Law’s blondest graduate. That’s right, my friends, I, KR have decided to join the ranks at ELLE!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I. AM. EXCITED! After six months of glorified intern life on the Mobility Team at Thomson Reuters, I am taking my first official, full-time position in the Emerging Media division at Hachette Filipacchi Media, the entity that oversees brands such as ELLE, ELLE Décor, ELLEgirl, Woman’s Day, Car & Driver and more. In my position as a Junior Product Manager, I’ll help plan, execute and market ELLE’s iPhone, iPad and Android apps and mobile website. I applied on a whim via MediaBistro, and somehow, the stars aligned in my favor! I gained great experience in the mobile space this summer, and am pumped about foraying from financial to fashion-centric content.

With two weeks to go at Thomson Reuters, I’m sad to leave my team—I feel like I’ve found a family here, and will always look back on the firm as the place that really helped me get my feet wet in Corporate America. But this new role is an exciting one—one that will bring change, great experience and, most importantly, lots of trendy new shoes and belts and bags and dresses and jackets and………You get the idea. Who feels like celebrating?!

Oh, and, this was my 300th post. THREE HUNDRED POSTS. Pretty fitting for such a major announcement, right?

23 Candles

I'm really an incredible hostess. This Friday, after failing at "meeting each other on the subway platform" (honestly, trying to find someone in a no cell service zone makes me literally question the world's existence at a time when texting wasn't a communal crutch), SA and I made it back to Queens a few hours later than we planned. So, like the amazing boriqua that she is, my dear pal offered to cook me dinner while I got ready for our night on the town.

Like I said, I'm an incredible hostess: in the time it took for me to shower, dry my hair, apply make-up and pick out an outfit, SA had prepared penne a la vodka with a side of sauteed eggplant and snow peas. And a screwdriver cocktail. All in the name of getting to our destination on time!

In an evening that took us from an apartment party in Harlem, to Jay-Z's 4040 club (never, ever again) and to the Murrary Hill frat zone otherwise known as Mercury Bar, SA and I relished in the LIRR train stoppage which left Manhattan blissfully void of the bridge-and-tunnel crowd... which, alright, I guess we technically belong to deep-down. Oh well. Life begins with L.I.

Saturday brought birthday celebrations for the fabulous KA (pictured here from our senior formal)! We dined at Dos Caminos, drank at Continental and danced at Phebe's. Turning 23 on the 23rd, it was a golden night for her golden birthday, which I was pumped to be a part of. :-)

The M's of L&O: SVU

So I had this incredibly witty post all about the similarities between Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and M&Ms candy totally set to go, but technology took it away from me. Since I promised you Wednesday, this here is attempt number two. Here goes nothing!

A few days ago, while relishing in the amazingness that is USA's ability to somehow always have an episode of my favorite crime-fighting TV show on air, I couldn't help but think of how closely related L&O: SVU and M&Ms candy are. Seriously! I'll break it into three categories:

1. Quantity. Have you ever eaten just one M&M? (Thought not.) Have you ever watched just one episode during an L&O: SVU marathon? Don't respond. The answer is too obvious.

2. Category. Just as M&Ms can be grouped (i.e. red, blue, green, etc.), so too can episodes of L&O: SVU (i.e. "Clergy Who Kill," "Psycho Sibling Rivalry," ones where the flirtatious tension between Stabler and Benson is too hot to handle, etc.).

3. Likeability. Does anyone ever say no to eating M&Ms? Does anyone ever decline watching an L&O: SVU marathon?

I rest my case.

Idolizing Boots

The feelings I have for these boots are unlike any feelings I’ve ever had for footwear—and I’m not afraid to admit that I have had quite the lovey-dovey obsession with several pairs of shoes before (including but not limited to my Cole Haan Ambrose Air Pumps, my Tory Burch Leopard Print Reva Flats and my Sparkly Gold Toms—swoon!). These bowtied beauties, affectionately dubbed—you guessed it!—Bowtied Beauty Boots by Anthropologie, just might have to make it straight to the top of my gotta, gotta, gotta have list for Fall. Beacause I just gotta, gotta, gotta have ‘em!

Honestly, shoes this cute are as amazingly rare as those Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episodes where Stabler actually dons a policeman’s uniform. And you know how great those episodes are! Which reminds me: stay tuned for tomorrow’s post, in which I compare L&O: SVU to Halloween candy.

I’m not kidding—it’s a scarily accurate analysis. See ya then.

Bought Off the Street

While I'm torn if any city besides the Big Apple could ever truly be my permanent home, you can bet that no matter what zip code I settle in, I will decorate with some seriously New York inspired artwork.

And by inspired, I mean bought off the street. You can't duplicate that character-ridden grit while shopping indoors!

Last Sunday, while strolling around Union Square with SA, searching for a ledge on which to enjoy our Artichoke Pizza, we passed by an adorable couple who are the masterminds behind mixed media pieces that merge the magic of my two favorite artists. I'm not kidding: their work looks like something that could only be the offspring of an Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollack union... if that were biologically possible. Check them out here at Esteban Kremen Art, and in person on the weekends in Union Square. I was particularly mesmerized by any piece that featured the Brooklyn Bridge and definitely plan to splurge soon!