بما أنّ [لكست] لعبة البولو تماما يلعبون كلّ فصل بما أنّ يتوقّع, التقى عرضه بشكل صحيح توقعات من أخرى [بيغ-نم] خيمة عمل: هو بدأ ثلاثة أوقات مثل متأخّرة بما أنّ طوله; بين دعوة وقت 7:00 بعد الظّهر وحقيقيّة [سترت تيم] 7:50 بعد الظّهر, [بوسد] بنفسي هبة المصورات مع [روور] أماميّة, مثل [لكست] مظهّر له و [إإكس-مر]. [مندي] مور, أندي [رودّيك].

أخيرا عتّم أضواء أن يرتفع ثانية ك يعمي أبيض; شاي حزب تخطّيت نغم كان بما أنّ قواطير ذهبوا مدنيّة مع المعتادة [ثروبّينغ], [برت-ميإكس] صوت جهير. لعب جوارب مقلّمة [ني-هي], [كنغل-ليك] أغطية, وقفاز وحيد [وهن-ميشل-وس-كول] فوق ساخرة شارع [شك] على [سومّر-ين-سوثمبتون] بسيطة. وبما أنّ [رترو] نظرات يعيدونبنفسي أكثر غالبا من [لكست] علامة تجاريّة لعبة البولو, هو ما من مفاجأة أنّ نظر [ا لوت] من نابض/فصل صيف 2006 [بك تو], جيّدا, فقط سنة [أغو]: نظر غلّل [شورت-شورتس] فقط طازجة كجزء ورك بزّة عمل, و [هيبستر] [أ-لين] [مينيس] عام حول الأوساط [تيني] [كتولكرس], مع يبسل أشرطة مماثلة إلى أنّ من [ا] جنس والمدينة هو يرتدي لا [إلّا] طحلب.

غير أنّ فيما بين [سسنس-غو] [شك] و [كش كو] كلاسيكيّة - مثل دائما [ألّيغتور-ستمبد] لعبة البولو و [ويندبركرس], رجال فضفاضة [بوتّون-دوونس] و [ف-نك] كنزات للبنات, [سكند-سكين] سترة صوفيّة للرجال - كان حدث هامّ قطعات أنّ يبدى ساطعة من [لكست] يتوهّج إستعمال من أحمر نيونيّ. [نف-] و [وهيت-ستريبد] كيمونو كان ثوب - يرتدى مثل [بلتد] ثوب مصغّرة - شرق كاملة يحيّي الغرب, [بلتد] خندقة - أو كان هو صغيرة لفاف ثوب? - سوفت كنت الطبقة لنابض, و[درووبي] [كول-نك] [هوودي] يمكن قدت إلى المقاطعة من سهله [جن] [زيب-وب] عرق ابن عمّ.

العلامة? في مكان ما بين بطلة وحالة حبّ, حالة حبّ. هو كان يستعصي أن يقول إن الاستماع أعطى إحتفاء ثابتة, أو كان صحيحة ييصفّي ك هو جمح من مقاعده إلى العرض تالية.

There are priceless necessities, the breathing of living — soy lattes, chocolate-covered espresso beans, mink caps — and there are luxe little splurges, the sugar-coating of living — a college education, three square meals a day, wearing less than 4″ of heels running around Manhattan.

And then there are indulgences earned, the dancing in life — watching 90210 reruns after cat-fighting with copywriting for 12 hours, enjoying a scalding hot shower after fueling a day on iced coffee, and decorating myself with luscious layers of gemstone-charms after a morning allowing hardly enough time for putting on my face.

“I hope that when a woman commits herself to a piece of Indulgems jewelry, she’s reminding herself that she deserves to be pampered. She’s earned it,” says designer Grace Chan. “When the purchase is a gift, the same philosophy applies to the gift recipient. The subtle sensuality in this word is only natural. Just think about the tone and look we often use when saying the word ‘Indulge.’ ”

Mmm…

“Indulge…”

… In swimming in a giant mug of foamy soy milk and chai tea and drying out on a bed of biscotti?

Hmm.

Maybe I should reconsider filing “three square meals a day” under “priceless necessities.

My mother always said I should remember that I’m a little flower, and I’d blossom into a beautiful woman.

Speeding 80 down the freeway, gracefully weaving in and out of lanes while sipping a scalding soy latte, between mentally — and under-my-breath’ly — cursing traffic, I thought: “Ah, that Mom. She said a lot of things.”

“A lot of things” also included a reminder to refrain from taking the Lawd’s name in vain. Years later, I still feel some guilt if an “Oh my gawwwd” rolls out (mostly because it hints at teenage-dom in the ‘burbs of Los Angeles).

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I remember when I was a three-year-old little lamb: putting on plastic heels and ridiculous dresses, I’d smear pots of pink blush onto my cheeks and lips while eyeing my mother’s jewelry.

And now, almost two decades later, I’m a short- and dark-haired sheep: wearing wooden platforms and dramatic frocks, everyday I smudge on piles of black eye shadow and mascara, finally wearing my mother’s bangles and earrings.

Forever darling, currently dull, somehow those precious pieces lost their mythological glitter over the years — once upon a time every ring and earring was magical and now these diamond studs are diamond duds.

And then my fairy godmom hooked it up — or I was cruising through Trunkt.com — and now I’ve De Mian Designs in my life.

Blooming necklaces of organza flowers and Swarovski crystals are enchanting, and a youthful dreaminess is channeled through grownup standards.

It’s fitting, then, that “many of our pieces are the combination of the work of two individuals,” say De Mian Designs cofounder Monika Peczeli. “Usually I pick a very ordinary material, like a fabric, and combine this with traditional jewelry material to transform a caterpillar into a butterfly.

“Eniko, on the other hand, is obsessed with geometrical forms and details. How to make things simpler. It’s like a logical game. Getting me back to reality, to put a point at the end. From the two of us comes this really unique, full of wit, but elegant jewelry.”

Full of wit and elegance. If only the jewelry came with a Prince Charming to match.

But if it’s between a boy and a bracelet, it’s clear what I’d rather have on my arm.

Call me a snob, but as far as I know, the land between the East and West coasts exists solely for the harvesting of soybeans and the manufacturing of those greens into precious non-dairy milk for my overpriced cappuccinos.

Yeah. I’m a snob.

I count three American cities as pals: there’s Manhattan, a lively cutthroat businessman, disinterested in deals not affecting him. And LA is a fabulous publicist, the best at buzzing, and its own finest client. And San Francisco?

A perfect, modern woman: all steely smarts while superbly gorgeous, solidly independent with a humanist heart, cosmo-worldly cultured but minutes away from Mother Earth roots.

And home accessories line RabLabs?

A clear-cut child of that city by the bay: using mostly polished, pure Brazilian agate — shiny, raw-edged discs for coasters, plates, napkin holders, and holiday ornaments — RabLabs highlights the dichotomy between inner and outer surfaces, between manmade and organic.

“My background is in designing consumer and medical products in the Silicon Valley,” says founder Anna Rabinowicz. “In doing this kind of work, I recognized a need in people for whom I was designing. They had houses full of mass-manufactured electronics and computers and seemed to be missing a fundamental connection with objects that had natural irregularity and individuality — objects that were made of materials that felt natural.”

And me?

A huge fan: resting happily on a perfect sliver of agate is many a mug of organic soy cappuccinos.

I’m afraid my wardrobe has never understood the difference between am or pm. I find myself hustling to the 86th and Lex stop, lacey tights and gold heels, bed-head hair and pounds of black eyeliner smudged around my eyes.

On my way to work, naturally.

Eight o’clock in the morning, of course.

It’s only swaying in the train, among the suits, I see a glance at my gilt sandals followed by a pointed look at a watch. I stare at his tie and see a plebian, Puritan pewter thing, and glance at my sandals — slices of gold, purple, and red leather make them royal.

Maybe it’s because I live million blocks north of Union Square in nanny-land, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon Aditee handbags I found a 24-hour-golden partner-in-crime, an accessory more than sympathetic to my wardrobe’s, er, timelessness. “The costumes of ancient India were very lavish and ornate. Even a simple day in the life of a king was opulent and elaborate,” says designer Aditee Modi. “I try to bring a little of ancient royal India into our modern technology crazed lives.”

Taking my Palm Pilot out of my handcrafted, embroidered and beaded, brocaded and tasseled Aditee, I get another glance. Only this time, the suit and its eyes look tinged with green, sparked by a gleam of gold.

Blending uptown artistry with downtown chic, fitting function to fashion, crafting strong leathers to curvy lines, Gida Bavari handbags are for women who never compromise brains for beauty, strength for femininity, or their personal style for passing trends.

Made of bold Italian leather and hardware, each Gida Bavari handbag is crafted in New York City and smartly tailored to the lifestyle of a metro girl-on-the-go. Fall 2005’s collection is highlighted with larger bags made to move from business meetings to martini bars — besides being packed with pockets for cell phones, PDAs, or MP3 players, slots for pens, and a key ring, the totes make space for an optional matching wristlet. An easy evening bag on the go, the same crackled leather and chrome of the larger totes fashion the little clutches.

Bridging office hours to cocktail parties, and work weeks to weekends, Gida Bavari’s sleek chic doesn’t slow a beat, just like the women the bags are built for. “Manhattan women inspire me every day,” says designer Gida Batista. “Their busy lifestyles and strong sense of style always inspire me to create something that will compliment them.”

Batista knows her Manhattanite muse well — born and raised in New York, she’s the exact confident, creative-professional she’s inspired by. Gida Bavari bags’ roots lie on the other coast, though, during Batista’s seven years in San Francisco’s radio and television industry. Between working alongside talents Johnny Depp, Bill Murry, and Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows, and shooting an independent music video for one of her own songs, Batista found herself sketching piles of handbag designs.

Creating her own collection of handbags proved too much to resist, and Batista returned to New York City in 2003 and shifted swiftly from entertainment and music into fashion. After enrolling at FIT and studying sourcing and production, in spring 2005 she debuted Gida Bavari’s first collection.

Perhaps Batista’s creative leap between music and fashion was quickly successful because she didn’t see a long distance between the two. “Fashion, like music, is so expressive. Both afford us the ability to be who we want to be and to make our individual statement, whatever that may be,” says Batista. “We can be vulnerable, playful, strong, sexy, powerful, depending on whichever mood strikes us on any given day.”

“I chose to design handbags in particular because of the obvious reason — they’re very personal to women and can really help women show off their personality,” continues Batista. “You pour your life into handbags. A great handbag carries you everywhere, much like you carry it.” And that Gida Bavari bags carry a woman everywhere expands beyond just toting her essentials from power lunches to dinner dates — Gida Bavari carries a woman from last year’s spring wardrobe to next season’s runway chic.

“My designs are classic, with elements of trend,” says Batista. “I don’t focus on solely trend because I believe that a well-designed handbag should withstand the test of time. I love design elements and details, so I prefer to keep the trends in the details and in the color choices, but not to the extent that dates the bag for seasons to come.”

Batista’s dedication to quality design over quick fads, to setting trends instead of running after them is obvious in Gida Bavari’s original spring 2005 collection. Composed of crackled Italian leather and statement hardware, the handbags are still more than fresh-like Gida Bavari’s present and future, past seasons’ bags are still the perfect accessory for a smart, take-all girl about town.

“The Gida Bavari brand stands for lifestyle,” sums up Batista. “It’s a brand that goes beyond fashion. Its functionality proves to be a girl’s best friend. It knows that you’re sexy, smart, funny, powerful, and feminine,” Gida Bavari knows that a woman never wants or warrants any less.

I drown desire to sleep in espresso, working, writing all night to have my laptop crash. I’m squashed between cattle on the express train as it apologizes for being perpetually delayed and I miss a meeting. I finally land home, finding my Matilda dead (she was an African violet; my favorite pet - besides my snakeskin clutch - as my building doesn’t allow furry things besides coats).

Three little pricks and plus a ton of pressure, and my little bubble of a world has burst. Give me prayers, send me organic chocolates, just give me –

– A hug.

Alas, while the arms of my beloved aren’t available — or, I’m single, whatever — I’ll sub with two boys’ band of ribbon wrapped tight around my waist. Alex & Lorenzo will embrace me, complement my outfits, and accompany me from breezy brunches in jeans to cinched-waist black-dress affairs.

And handmade and oft custom-designed, it’s unlikely I’ll see my Alex & Lorenzo hugging any other girl. We’ve got a true love affair, thanks to designer Kristen. “I spend lots of time searching for my fabrics so that they can be one-of-a-kind,” says Kristen. “I sew each and every belt with love and care and get such satisfaction from each piece.”

As do I. In fact, I think I’ll wipe my eyes –

– And even put away the chocolates.

Daily strolling in stilettos, usually skirting pants in favor of dresses, and beginning everyday putting on my face, sometimes I long for when the New Look was new, to walk out without a persimmon pout was bold, and to leave the house with a bare head left you a bit naked.

And then my brain wrinkles, nose in the air at the idea of housewifing, being bound by girdles, and handling the world with kid gloves.

Still, I wouldn’t mind men tipping hats when we greet on the street — so long as I could occasionally wear the slacks, too.

Happily, Hat Addicition has rescued me — at least momentarily — from my Damsel-in-Postfeminism-Distress-dom, offering its wearable and artful solution of old-greets-new fashion. Designer Reiko Tomita’s Japanese heritage is shaken with Brooklyn-street style, and blended smoothly through her traditional millinery training.

Smartly whimsical, it doesn’t take Brain Surgery to figure out the intelligence behind the hat of that same name: a subtly Lucy Ball-looking cap is made of pink velveteen arranged to look like gray matter.

Cerebral cortex caps make you nervous? “I do a lot of custom-made hats,” says Reiko. “I love finding the right styles and size for each customer. I have customers from babies to 80-year-olds, men to drag queens. Many of my customers are ‘hat people’ who are very confident with their style, but I also have plenty of clients that aren’t so comfortable wearing hats. I love to find the right one for them.”

Sounds like a perfect fit.

My heart aches for simpler, purer times: I remember playing in the kitchen when I was eight, making lattes, minimalist menages of milk mingling with espresso. Now, I find myself paying six bucks for eight-ounces of a half-caf-double-shot-extra-foam-vanilla-soy cappuccino. I remember costuming myself as a flapper one Halloween, teetering in my mom’s pumps and quickly ruining her heels. Now I run to the shoe repairman every other week, taking off a couple of insensible platforms for five seconds so I’ll be able to jog another twenty blocks without demolishing my beloveds’ soles. I remember –

– That I’ve got about a billion other things to do today besides reminisce. And who am I kidding? Like any transplant Manhattanite isn’t crazy in love with being crazy-busy. But one glance at the clean, organic lines of J.Mendicino’s functional sculpture, at the pure, white shapes, and I fondly remember naps in some postmodern cottage, enjoying easy sleep. I remember fresh sunshine and the bluest air, I remember –

– That I grew up in smoggy LA. There’s something subtly seductive about the Zen-like simplicity of J. Mendicino; maybe it has to do with “the white glaze on simple forms, which gives me a strong sense of focus,” says designer Joanna Mendicino, “which has really helped me in developing my line over the past few years.”

And J. Mendicino’s essence is what helps me when I need an escape from my Manhattan marathon of meetings and soy mochaccinos — when I remember I need to just forget for a couple of moments.