What to Give Your 14-Year-Old Cousin This Holiday Season

The best thing about this Fred Flare ad for Le Tigre is that it is an ad for Le Tigre the clothing line, and not Le Tigre the band (below).


Seriously: Someone at Fred Flare is totally making a reference here.

Anyway, Fred Flare: cheap, cheap, cheap, and now that we have to give all these ridiculous presents, we find we have fewer funds on hand for our own greedy pursuits, like diamond showers and emerald rings. Doesn't it sound like "diamond showers" should be that kind of phrase you don't know is actually a term for some pornographic maneuver until you blurt it out at some terrible office meeting?

Anyway: Our shopping list gets longer, and we get poorer. And then we always forget to buy presents for our cousins, though we quite enjoy them, and then we don't have any money. This all is cheap enough to buy everything in twos, so we can keep a set for ourselves, possibly the happiest outcome of any holiday shopping excursion.


We saw this bag in our personal porn magazine, Domino, so we take no credit for bringing it to anyone's attention. But: adorable. Horses! When we were 14, we hated horses, but we can accept that we were in the minority. $40


There is a 14-year-old girl, in all of our lives, who would be rendered mutely ecstatic to discover this set of Harajuku Lover panties, produced by her idol, Gwen Stefani. $44


Nancy Drew's Guide to Life: Oh, Nancy Drew. Why do we live in a world without you, and with Paris Hilton? $5


This Le Tigre rainbow stripe sweater is hysterical. $75


Our Holiday Survival Kit would include some sort of mouth-paralyzing device for the sort of relatives who say things like, "So when are you going to have a kid?" To which we can only say, "When we go to Africa and buy one just like Angelina Jolie." Whatever. Ugh. This lacks the paralyzing agent but includes mints and earplugs. $12

Look of the Day: Alexander McQueen

At the rate we're breezing through the fall collections, we'll be lucky to finish up by fall ... 2009. Let's see, it's almost December, and we're not even through the As. That is a masterwork of corporate planning. This is why we keep getting fired from office jobs.

Anyway: Alexander McQueen! We include this photo not because it so neatly encapsulates his F\W trends, though it does, but because of the use of gloves. Someone e-mailed us looking for our position on and advice re: the wearing of gloves, and we were like, no fucking idea. We wear mittens. But these gloves look just right, in the sense that even though they look costume-y (our problem with gloves), the entire look is costume-y, so who cares. It's kind of like when two people you hate get into a fistfight: Either way, it's cool.


We saw this on Angelina Jolie, with jeans and a basic black top. Can you believe this coat is 100% polyester? We're sure we must be reading this wrong, and yet: There it is. $2480. Surely H&M must have something similar for like $16.99, no?

Tara Subkoff for Easy Spirit

We've put a temporary hold on our Us Weekly Home Companions because they've been so tragically boring lately—of course, that will change with this week's issue, which should reach some sort of Kennedy-assasination level of journalistic breast-beating drama. (Seriously: Who releases their separation statement to a gossip magazine? Who does that? This, this is the price we pay for listening to stupid people.) This did not, of course, stop us from purchasing the current issue, featuring Angelina Jolie in an excellent trench and bizarrely skin-colored heels, and discovering that Reese Witherspoon has purchased the entire Tara Subkoff collection for Easy Spirit.

First, let us say, that we like these. These remind us of a story our old boss told us, about this day he saw Lisa Ling in a coffee shop, and she was wearing thigh-high boots, and how he wanted to marry her. Then he couldn't figure out if he'd actually seen Lisa Ling or Lucy Liu. "The View," we kept saying, "or Charlie's Angels?" But he'd never seen either. Conundrum. For him, anyway. Wedge boot, $595


And we just hate, we just absolutely could not detest more, these. They would be worn by a serial killer. A male serial killer. Or a club kid. Seriously, we can admit that we just aren't fashion forward enough for them. We just hate them so much. We feel like there should be little men living inside of them. Little men who would kill you, given the chance. Tall wedge covered boot, $695.

The Twentysomething Days of Christmas Shopping

So in the first installment of our hopefully, approximately month-long collection of our small community's heart-y-iest hopes and wishes, here is a note from our friend Laurel Ann:

"Dear Bunnyshop:

What I really want for Christmas is this lynx pillow from Salvor. I used to be obsessed with lynxes (lynxs? lynx?). I kind of still am. How fun would it be to walk into your house and see a lynx pillow there? Pretty fun.

And for the thing I can't have, I would really like a puppy, or a new friend to discuss this book Atonement with me, because I am obsessed with it.

Love,
Laurel Ann"



Salvor Mini Lynx Pillow, $36
Atonement, $13.45

Do you, too, have a couple Christmas wishes, both possible and impossible? E-mail us with them at bunnyshop@mac.com.

Our Own, True Plea for Behavior at the Mall

Don't change your baby's diaper in the Food Court. No one will stop you, but that doesn't mean it's right.

At the Mall

We're at the mall. How do you possibly explain Thanksgiving to a non-American: "First, it's all about family and food and bestowing good tidings etc., and then it's three days of sifting through $7.99 bras at Victoria's Secret and getting into fights with your sister about the proper degree of aggression to be used when procuring a parking spot"? Er, maybe that's just us, and everyone else is at church. No idea. But see you very soon.

And please, please: We believe that everyone wants things, both material and immaterial, for Christmas, or the holiday season in general. (For example: "I want you to get your ass in the car right now so we can go to the fucking mall!" That would be an example of immaterial.) So please, we would like to known yours: your Xmas wish for the material (sweater) and immaterial (true love, etc.) E-mail us at bunnyshop@mac.com.

The BS Christmas List

Because we anticipate doing nothing this weekend except (a) sitting on a plane; (b) shivering violently due to lack of East Coast-appropriate clothing and \ or reluctance to actually wear the Abercrombie coat we purchased prior to their production of "Baghdad Ass Up" t-shirts; and (c) gaining weight, we present our official Christmas list. For ourselves, of course. And if anyone else would like to comment with their own choices: We would be interested in what people want, when those people are not (a) kids, because seriously, they get enough attention this time of year, or (b) gamers, who all want that xbox or xBox or XboX or whatever.

1. We'd start with a Saab convertible, but that perhaps that goes too far. Nothing says "gift that keeps on giving" like some magazine subscriptions, and these are our favorites: Vogues (UK and FR), Domino (house porn), Elle (US), W, and Nylon. And, if we could, the Sunday Times (UK) Style section, which is possibly our favorite fashion publication in the entire world.


1a. And then we'd them all in maybe a dozen of these delightful magazine files from Anthropologie.

You know, seriously, we wouldn't mind if nobody gave any gifts at Christmas. Wouldn't it be nice, maybe? Just carols and holiday-appropriate Muppet movies?

Shoes for the Airport: Lacking Any Straps, Ties, Laces, or Zippers

It's not like we have such severe anger-management problems, but we can safely say that every time we go through a security gate at an airport we are about 30 seconds from committing a murder so bloody and heinous and ritualistic that it belongs in an episode of The X Files. And when we're called over for that special women's-prison prodding: Let us just say that we. Want. To. Kill. We remember when it was reported that airport screeners make less than cashiers at McDonald's. We have no idea whether this is true or not, but all we can say is: Motherfuckers, give them the money. Whatever it costs. Surely Halliburton can skim off some of that oil money they're so excited about and buy the country some competent airport screeners. Because if we have to fucking hop barefoot through one more goddamn airport, we are seriously going to lose our shit.

Once, we were at Newark Airport, going on a trip that would take us out of the country for several months, and we were told, along with everyone else, to remove our shoes. And this confused looking man in front of us, with a British passport, looks at us and goes, "I forgot what a crazy country I was in." And the thing was, if he hadn't been British, we would have been, like, "This totally sucks," all friendly-like, but instead we got all weird and depressed and patriotic and just said, "U. S.-motherfucking-A, motherfucker." Or, actually, "Excuse me?" Either way, we're not wearing any shoes with straps tomorrow, when we enjoy our five-hour transcontinental flight back to, thank God, Brooklyn, USA.

We always feel quite smart, actually, when we wear our Havianas to the airport, even if it's 15 degrees outside. Love these. These actually make me a littel nervous, what with the white sole, because they end up looking tatty if, for some reason we cannot possibly come up with, your feet are muddy. But love, love, love the brown, especially in Havaiana form. Here is our favorite Havaiana story: We went to yoga, like usual. Two days later, we looked down at our feet, and realized we were wearing black Havaianas. We owned black Havaianas. But with a little Brazilian flag on them. So we'd been walking around in somebody else's shoes, and vice versa, for two days. Excellent!


These look like there are little gold taffeta hummingbirds on them, but we still love them: Moschino Cheap + Chic Metallic Bow Flat. And the little heel! Divine. $395.


Sigerson Morrison. They're like Saabs for us: We just dream of owning as many as we'd like. Also available in black if the red is a little too Dutch whore. Not that these are Dutch-whore at all. Maybe Dutch call-girl. Also $395.


Twelfth Street by Cynthia Vincent. We like these because they are totally gold ballet flats without being too metallic about, and also because they're not too non-metallic (read: tan) about it. Rather a nice balance, we think. $359.


We're not sure if we got around to the point about this column being about flats, in addition to shoes without straps, ties, laces, etc., because no one needs to be running around an airport in heels. This Roberto Del Carlo has a tiny heel, and a very nice yellow color, and we would wear them all the time. $202.30

Hermione's Gown

It was not, sad to say, the fashion highlight of the movie, the movie that we are apparently still a tiny bit obsessed with. We leave thinking: Well, seriously, if we all tried very hard, could there not be some sort of institute of magic? That we could attend? Our ex-roommate says he often feels the same way, only about the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters \\ Mutants.

Sigh. Anyway: Hermione's gown. We do not know why she is standing in tadasana. The film's fashion highlight was actually, of course, the Beauxbatons uniforms, all v. Victorian \\ Florence Nightingale-y, and quite nice when they wore the matching gloves - not exemplary, but quite nice. Hermione's gown, however, we did not enjoy as much as we wish we had. In fact, we sort of prefer the $35 Harry Potter Replica Hermione Gown, available at your local Marks & Spencer. Apparently the original version required "12 metres of chiffon and took three months" to make. That is a fucking lot of chiffon. For a little bit of an unfortunate Jessica McClintock c. 1992-prom vibe, no?

Our Favorite New T-Shirt

We were going through our closet (read: pile of clothes on the bathroom floor) and we realized that (a) we own one, single bra, because we just have no idea where they get to on their own, and (b) we have no t-shirts, except for one from Old Navy which reads "Just a Waitress Until I'm Discovered" — and which, we have been advised, is classist, and we should not wear to restaurants in case we hurt the wait staff's feelings. We were well aware of the bra situation (seriously, we just can't be bothered, and that's why God invented tank tops with their own little shelf bras), but the t-shirt situation was problematic.

This was until we found this Rebecca Beeson "Rara Avis Ruched Top," whatever that means, and despite the annoying name, it may actually be the best t-shirt we have ever owned (a not-uncalled-for expectation considering the $58 pricetag.) The only potential problem is the collarbone-level ruching, which somehow emphasizes the space between the boob and the shoulders, possibly aggravating for anyone who can't find a bra or the funding for silicone breasts. You can probably tell that this was a significant issue for us this morning. The bra problem. Then we found it. And now, all is well.

This Is Truly Horrifying But:

We've been searching for gold shoes exactly like this, and then we found them, and they only cost $17.99. Now, this should be a miracle of Jesus-on-toast proportions (we like to get the sacrilege in before Advent, you know), but: They are from Payless. It's not like we're snobs, or even, more troublingly, reverse-snob snobs, but: Star Jones endorses Payless. You know all those wedding things Star Jones got for free in exchange for plugging them on that TV show? Yeah. We don't want any of them. It's like a reverse-psychology endorsement: If Star's endorsing it ... seriously, we'll pass. But, once more: These shoes are really cute, and they cost $17.99. We are just going to completely ignore everything else. Like how the View is like the televised equivalent of public menstruation. Ooh, now that we've been all bitchy we feel better now.

Oh, Carine!

Oh, and we do dream of Carine! What a marvelously marvelous t-shirt. It's sort of like the post-Devil \\ Prada world needed a new international style icon without the rage issues, and we have found Carine. Lovely. Sublime. The percentage of the world's population interested in an American Apparel ringer tee with a tribute to Carine Roitfeld has got to be something less than .00000041%, but how lovely to see their interests served. AA Carine tee, $29

Speaking of Vogue Editors....

Anna Wintour = Madame Maxime?

An All-Media Salute to Harry Potter

Oh, we wish we could be a wizard's wizarding girlfriend. We won't go as far as this Harry Potter Legal Age Countdown Clock, because we're willing to rob the cradle but 16-year-olds ... that's like robbing the womb. But we. Love. Him. Tss. And tonight we, and the rest of preadolescent America\Europe\etc., will enjoy Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Oh, Cedric! And Sirius. As far as fictional, magical boyfriends go, Sirius Black (but not Gary Oldman-ly; more like Matthew MacFayden-ly) is it.

What we would really like is to go to some sort of wizarding school, but as this appears to be increasingly less likely, we offer instead our tribute to our very favorite British-y things. We only want to be as much of a bad-ass as J.K. Rowling, possibly the only woman on the planet with the bank account to tell Steven Spielberg and his absolutely cracker Haley-Joel-Osment-should-play-Harry idea to fuck off.

Anyway, clothing is not exactly a medium, but it sort of is, so here goes:


1. Alice Temperley. If we were a member of the Bloomsbury Circle, and all our friends were sleeping with each others' husbands, we'd wear this dress while we stood in the meadow crying about it, but we'd really just be crying for dramatic effect, because it would be impossible to be wearing this dress and be truly unhappy. Sigh. The Rosa silk dress, $1492


2. The Washed Black Baxter Skinny Jeans are like Stella McCartney without the annoying Stella McCartney-ness. See? We loved her last weekend, and now we are fatigued. We are such fickle cranks, really. About $70


3. This is like the nine millionth time we've mentioned Jocasi, but we adore them, and they just opened an online store, and we don't get how repetitive we get, because they are so bizarrely wonderful. The Kepis medium, about $125


4. Love the Paul Smith stripes. Love bikinis. Love everything about it, except the fact that it is winter and we have nowhere to go swimming. Paul Smith bikini, about $100


5. We are not proud of our adoration for personalized Smythson stationary anymore than we're proud of our adoration for Cedric Diggory, but there it is.


II. Music. No Kelly Clarkson.

1. "5 More Minutes," Mull Historical Society. Please, please, please listen to this song, because you will love it more than you can even imagine.
2. "Do You Want To," Franz Ferdinand. We tire of the ambiguous sexuality but we adore the Dior Homme.
3. "Fit But You Know It," The Streets. This song is like the "Ignition" of last summer, but British, and sort of funnier, though "Ignition" was pretty funny, because doesn't R. Kelly, like, piss on people?
4. "Apocalypse Please," Muse. Oh, we wish we could be this sincerely operatic.
5. "I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor," Arctic Monkeys. We hate to dance. This makes us think we might like to dance.


III. TV
All we will say is: Season. Finale. Extras. Funniest ever. Not The Office Xmas special, but excellent, and when Maggie finally cleans her apartment, we wept for her. And us. And our own bedraggled apartment.

What The Fuck Is In the Water At J. Crew?

J. Crew. That's where we go for sweaters, and jeans, and little tweed handbags, or when we're feeling very nostalgic for the New England prep-school life we never had, with Jeeves and Pinky. Hrm. Jeeves and Pinky. We even tried with that one, and it's one part Internet start-up, one part junior Mafioso.

The point is that until now, J. Crew has not been the place where we would go for, say, ocelot-print calfskin coats. That cost $2500. We mean, seriously, it just gets more ridiculous with each sentence, right? It is, by the way, "exclusive" to J. Crew. That's like saying "herpes" are "exclusive" to, say, Paris Hilton. Just because she's got it doesn't mean we want it.


And seriously, it's not like we're so anti-fur or something — we mean really, tell it to the cow who donated the hamburger we just ate for dinner — but really, the fox that gave its life for this was seriously wronged. Seriously. Apparently it's called a "trapper," and it is meant to be worn on the head. Whatever. ($450.) It's like, What the fuck could that possibly be? This is just the craziest looking thing we've ever seen.


Except, perhaps, for the cashmere sweater with the elephant on it ($148).


Still, though, we have love, mad, mad love, for J. Crew, when they are doing nice, non-elephant-involving basics, like this cashmere t-shirt-styled sweater ($138). In fact, we had this exact sweater, and we wore it every day, like a toddler, and only stopped when we accidentally dribbled toothpaste down the front, like a toddler. And even then we just sort of wiped it off and wore it on the plane home, because it was that perfect weight, and we loved it until some ass at the Avis counter stole it from us. Or we left it on the plane. No idea. Still miss it.


And honestly, we can't account for the model's stance here, but we're totally into the idea of a puffer with a furry collar ($248), even if we like Vince's better.

And PS: It's not available on the website anymore, but they have a gorgeous green knee-length coat in the stores that's absolutely swoon-worthy. Lovely silk lining.


PPS: What the fuck is this?

Look of the Day: Alessandro Dell'Acqua

If we were an anorexic, trust-funding 14-year-old, we'd be all over Alessandro Dell'Acqua. Seriously, this is what the girls are wearing when we have nightmares about being trapped in some neverending Halloween party, with, like, Nicole Richie popping out of a cake in a negligee and autographing a copy of her book. It's worse than that eye-slitting scene from Un Chien Andalou. It's worse than stuffing your head in a toilet. Or an oven. Nicole Richie and the book, we mean. Not Alessandro Dell'Acqua. It's just so expensive and cut so much like lingerie that it's sort of off our radar, except for the purposes of this post.


Seriously, if we had enough money to afford this limited-edition sequin jacket, we'd buy a nice little used Saab convertible. If we had enough money to afford this, and then actually purchased it, we'd get our heads examined, because it is just that gaudy, that Vegas, that circus show (for $4700). You know what we really hate? We hate those commercials for Vegas where the couple's like "We totally fucked each other, all weekend, and now we're going to be all nauseating about it." Ugh, barf. It's like, er, we're vacationing in Maine, where they do not use extended food metaphors for sex. Bleccch.

Uggs: The Psychological Assault

The only thing wrong with this Paul Frank t-shirt, suggested to us by a marvelously astute friend of Bunnyshop, is that it actually replicates the hated Ugg in that line drawing, but perhaps there was no other way of successfully making the point of how hideously ugly they are.


Now. Okay. We are just so ashamed to mention this, but we are going to say that we would, possibly, and with deep, endless regrets, consider wearing their Adirondack Boot II, in a blizzard or similar. It is hideously ugly, and no one could make the mistake of thinking it was adorable, unlike the regular Ugg. This would be a purely functional decision. They are warm. Sigh.

Sale at Scoop

We don't know what's in the water over at Scoop, because they have all these wonderful things on sale. So wonderful, in fact, that this was supposed to be one of those situations where we wouldn't actually write about them until we'd safely purchased them, because we are just that greedy. We really are. And then we dropped our wallet down, we swear to God, the one-inch space where there's a gap when the elevator doors are open. The elevator shaft ate our wallet, and if that's not a divine suggestion to lay off the spending, we don't know what is. At least until Friday, when our new credit cards show up.

But moving on from our psychological deficiencies. These are Chip & Pepper, and they're almost half off. Half! The thing about saving money on clothing is that we always feel like the money we've saved can, and should, be properly reinvested in additional items of clothing. It's a win-win situation, really.


And these "Mulberry Street" Salt jeans are — wait for it — $25. Twenty-five dollars. That's $100 off. However, this is possibly because of the high rise, which, on second thought ... there's no two ways about it, they just make you look a little bit fatter than lower ones. So, whatever. But still. $100 off! We admit we would get excited about, say, poo, if it was 80% off. Problematic.


We have been obsessed with this Diab'less tunic since it first showed up last spring: It's so brilliantly ’80s, so perfectly Flashdance. It is made for knee-slides across high school gyms.


Seriously, if there's one thing we hate (and there isn't; there are so many things we hate, like those guys in yoga class who moan as loudly as possibly for 90 minutes and sweat all over the floor), it's girls who are like, "That bag is so last season." OK, we've said and thought that, but we wouldn't mean it. This Marin bag is Fall 2004, so it is officially out of season, but so is salmon, and we're having that for dinner. And we'll love it, just like we'd love this bag. And it's half off. $600 is a lot of money, but it's also a lot less than $1200.


We're generally opposed to this shape — it's sort of designed to make even normal boobs look droopy — but the sheer amount of fabric here might assuage. Eh. We're actually not super enthused about this top. This is the kind of top we see on girls we hate, the kind who wait behind ropes at bars we hate. But then sometimes we like their tops. We're not sure how much love-hate class-warfare we can invest in this shirt. Daslu halter top, $365 down to $73.


These Michael Kors boots are $370 down to $69 and even if they came with a free ice cream sandwich, we wouldn't buy them.

Metallic Bags: Better When Small

Precious metals: best in small packages. From jewelry stores. We don't like bars on streets frequented by pseudo-hipster junior-yuppies where there are prostitutes on the corners of said streets. But driving past both the bar and the corner this weekend, we realized that the one thing women on both (a) the corner and (b) the line to the bar had in common was a large metallic bag. This is just one more reason why we will continue to prefer our metallic bag in small doses.

Like this Lauren Merkin clutch. Subtle. And bronze. In bag form, if not in Olympics, often preferable to gold.


And then this gold Lorelei snakeskin clutch is very bling — oh, God, what a terrible word. But it is very bright, isn't it? And sometimes bright is just what you're looking for, and in those cases, this may be precisely right. Silver and gold, etc. It's not metallic and therefore remains outside the scope of this discussion, but Lorelei's black eelskin clutch is de-lovely.


Hobos can also be pleasingly small, in their handbag, if not human, forms. This is a BCBGirls "Boogie Night" hobo. They define its carrying capacity as "holds at least a magazine, a wallet, and water bottle." Is that the official standard for bag capacity? Not a book, a sandwich, and a Dr. Pepper? It's weird. Also, this bag is, we believe correctly, described as "bronze." However, there's another called "titanium," but it's black. Titanium isn't black. It's not like we think we're so smart because we know titanium isn't black, but seriously, could no one there look this up? We did. Titanium is "a strong, low-density, highly corrosion-resistant, lustrous white metallic element." Not black. Not to be nerds about it. Which we are.


Kooba. If it's good enough for Sienna Miller, it's good enough for us. Except Jude Law. He may be good enough for Sienna Miller, but he's not good enough for us.


This Marc Jacobs quilted bag is so rich it makes us think of that saying "You can never be too rich or too thin," which is like saying "You can never be too much of an asshole or spend too much of your time puking up your lunch in the office bathroom." In other words, it's a lifestyle we're in no particular rush to emulate. But ... sparkle. Honestly, we'd buy it, wear it once, feel like an ass, admire it as some sort of art object once or twice, and then be pissed that we spent $775 on this bag and not on a small car or something.

Friday's Perfect Thing

Coats. So much better than jackets, and infinitely better than blazers. This one, from J&M Davidson, is the coat version of Holly Golightly, all elegance and grace, but without the prostitution. That was the deal, right, that she was a prostitute? We have no idea. But they share, clearly, a certain princess-y retro charm. We don't love the buttons, and the pockets are a little patchwork, but the color is so nice, and the faux fur collar is probably warm. Okay, this is possibly Friday's Semi-Perfect Thing, but we're still exhausted from being angry all day about our lack of a local H&M. Friday's really perfect thing, in fact, is quite likely the last episode of the first season of Extras, which we just managed to see several months after everyone else, courtesy of Comcast On Demand. We beg you to watch it if you are as remedial as we are. Please. Right now if at all possible.

The coat is still really good. But not as perfect as that episode.

Next Year, We Would Like Nicolas Ghesquiere

This is the link that will get you all the Stella McCartney \\ H&M on eBay. Fashion profiteering. Love it.

Coats, Part 1: The Long Puffer Coat, Such As It Is

The woman in the photo above is quite possibly a 14-year-old Estonian model, and yet she looks like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man: This, in short, is the problem with puffer coats, particularly with long puffer coats. With short puffer coats, at least you've got the lower half of your body to prove Stay-Puft-freedom; with longer ones, you're one step away from being held aloft over a campfire.

For years we have resisted the siren call of the long puffer. But now, we are cold. And they are warm, and so, we imagine, some sort of arrangement must be worked out. It may involve tights. Anything to prove the lack of actual marshmallow filling. Above, the Theory quilted puffer, $400


The best thing about this coat is the way they were nice enough to add in that fitted-y quilting to suggest that the wearer might have been born with human, rather than marshmallow, form. The worst thing about this coat is that there is a bizarre notation informing us that the "fur is brown on coat not black as shown." Honestly, we're not sure if we need to be wearing a raccoon around our neck. It's just that there were so few puffers that even began to make the cut. Raccoon. Sigh. Andrew Marc Kara puffer, $575


This is as sleek as it's going to get. In fact, this may be our favorite of the lot, even if it means we're defining "puffer" a bit loosely. Like, without the raccoon collar. So be it. Miss Sixty Hue jacket, $289


This is really more like a blanket with a belt than an actual coat, but it has a certain lost-in-Tibet-ness about it that's somehow charming. Like, you'd be walking down the street, lost in your own little world of blizzards and the invading Chinese, which would all be quite disturbing, but you'd know you'd be impervious to it all because you were lost in your humungous coat cocoon. This would likely be less effective on the subway, where your coat might suffocate whoever had the misfortune of sitting next to you. Win some, lose some, etc. Diesel Slamanytos jacket, $250


This is the one, and absolutely only, time we are going to feature a "JLO by Jennifer Lopez" piece "unless and until" (Dr. Phil, yum) she actually starts sketching out designs and you know, makes her own clothing. Fashion lines: They're like the vanity license plate for megalomaniac pop singers. But if you're going to buy a white puffer, $126.99 is really the price to pay. JLO Faux-fur-trim long down puffer coat, $126.99

Stella McCartney Hearts H+M

Stella McCartney at H&M tomorrow. Of course, the city in which we are currently confined, like a beaten dog in a palace full of trust funders in Jimmy Choo heels, clutching to their hearts their own copies of the six-season DVD Sex and the City spectacular, we have no H&M, so we will have to live vicariously through other, more advanced civilizations. Not that, to be thoroughly honest, Stella McCartney is so on our radar: It's just as expensive as Balenciaga, but not Balenciaga, and there, in so many ways, the story ends.

However, the H&M situation briefly ameliorates the $$$ situation, so if we could, we would, but we can't, so here we are. If we were in London, we'd do exactly what we did last year, which was go to the Brent Cross mall, a similarly suburb, NW11 version of Roosevelt Fields if you can work with us, transatlantically, and choose from a selection of Karl Lagerfeld pieces, without any line, wait, or crowding, and then go home and put three shirts up on eBay for people too isolated from the goodness of modern life to have their own H&M. Then we'd sell two and lose one, and come out with a profit of -£4.00. Oh, 2004, how we dream of you.

It is surprisingly difficult to purchase Stella McCartney online, which, in a way, we like, sort of this pre-Internet world where it made sense to get all excited about going on a shopping trip to the big city. So eBay, once more, it is.


These sandals make us think of that "Priceless" MasterCard ad where the girl's all annoyed because her friend made her buy a seaform bridesmaid's dress. Ugly wedding party dresses are the most passive-aggressive form of punishment, aren't they? These shoes, however, may go nicely with that dress, if you could get past the ecologic leather and plastic materials. We wouldn't argue with her animal-loving stance, but maybe enough with the plastic. They're just so stripper-y. Tss.


This NEW WOMAN STELLA MCCARTNEY PALE PINK DRESS 6 apparently, reportedly, originally retailed for $6291. Did they pick that number out of a hat? Honestly, it looks so Zac Posen-y to us, we can't really get around it. But fair enough.


Hoenstly, we're not so sure we love this bag. At all. Sort of like that George Clooney movie, which we swore was going on its third hour until we checked our watch and realized it'd only been on for 55 minutes. We know we are supposed to, but we just don't, and that holds for this bag, as well. At least the movie only cost us $11.


All summer in yoga, we sat behind this girl who had these Stella McCartney for Adidas yoga pants. They were this Crayola flesh-color, with little pits in the the fabric. They were like cellulite tights, they were so horrible. But in general, the Adidas line is our favorite of SMcC's, and this jacket ... well, it's fine. The wide ribbing is nice. And see, none of this is so exciting, but we'll still shed a little tear tomorrow when everyone else is at H&M and we're stuck elsewhere. Oh, to want what you cannot have. Even when you don't really want it. Tss.

The Us Weekly Home Companion

Part 1, wherein Tori Spelling's dog captures a significant portion of an audience asked to choose between it and an actual child.

Part 2, wherein Jessica Simpson spends some time with the baby animals.

Part 3, wherein Britney takes the scissors to her "I [Heart] Kevin" t-shirt.

Election Day 2005

This is a sentiment best expressed in a voting booth, but since the fucking crackheads at the New York Board of Elections lost our absentee ballot request form, we can only say it here: Mayor Bloomberg is the only politician we actually believe when he speaks. This has had unfortunate applications, as when he said we were about to be bombed by terrorists and we ended up walking four miles, through Brooklyn, over the Manhattan Bridge, and across four different Manhattan neighborhoods, to a meeting we could not, for the life of us, come up with a lie sufficient to cancel, except admitting to the fact that we were successfully terrorized pussies. Here's to voting Republican. Once. And enjoying the novelty.

Look of the Day: Alberta Ferretti

Apparently we're never going to get out of the As in our little designer tour, but we love Alberta Ferretti so much we don't really mind. Whenever we hear "Alberta Ferretti" we think of Alberto V05, which is a tragedy, because there should be no negative implications.


Is this not the most adorable handbag? Indeed, it may. All the velvet currently being used to produce those naff blazers should be immediately (a) or destroyed or (b) put into production making these bags. Velvet with satin trim, $440


This necklace is that kind of purchase that you make and then you're like, well, hmm, I guess I can just admire it or something, since I have no idea what I would wear with it. Which is an exaggeration, since you could wear so many dresses with it; it's just that this is one part necklace and two parts Museum of Natural History exhibit. Or something. You know what we mean. It's just so shiny. $324


Alberta Ferretti is from an Italian town called Cattolica, which is near Rimini on the Adriatic coast. We once to an Ani DiFranco concert in Rimini. But the best part about that trip was the next morning, when the hotel we stayed at gave us free Cocoa Krispies. Delightful! Anyway, check out how nice that chiffon top is. Delightful! $1060


And since we can't quite imagine the day we'll be spending $1060 on a tank top, we bring you a sample from Philsophy di Alberta Ferretti, the second line. There is a whole hell of a lot going on in that wool tank, including but not limited to cabling, a bobble, and some ruching, but we still like it. We like the blouse even more, even if it does succumb to usually-horrific sheer sleeves. $395

Get Thee To An H+M-ery

Generally we are so distrustful when we are exhorted to accept one thing as the common good. It's like when some girl in the office has a new boyfriend, and she's all, "He's so perfect," etc., etc., and we are like, "Well, he may be perfect for you, but we're not interested in prostitute-frequenting jackass investment bankers." Tss. But this bag ... this bag is perfect. If:

A) You require a bag to contain numerous things, including but not limited to library books, a sweater, a wallet, a selection of magazines, a number of electronic devices, yoga pants, lip gloss, a box of Wheat Thins and an orange you put in there three weeks ago and completely forgot about;

B) and you drink Diet Coke, because that side pocket, which we have measured to ... er, measure four inches by ten inches, is the absolute perfect space to carry a 20 oz. Diet Coke. It is like a custom-made Diet Coke holder. It keeps it nice and straight so that it doesn't get all flat. It is genius. It is $19.99 and available from your local H&M (pick it up as you survey the post-Stella McCartney remains, perhaps.) It is the height of Swedish innovation. Even better than the dynamite.

Friday's Perfect Thing

It is: Catherine Malandrino ruched top
It costs: $320
It can be purchased at: Neiman Marcus
Good God, we just love this shirt. There's so little else to say. Maybe we could discuss how the hour we spent watching E.R. last night was practically an act of theft. The theft of our lifespirit. People, when doctors are operating on a chimpanzee in the E.R., let's just say the fucking shark has been jumped. And we really liked that show, for so long, and now they're putting the paddles on the chimpanzee and charging it to 10 joules and giving the chimp a little shot of morphine. Tss.

Anyway, Catherine Malandrino: ruched. So pretty we couldn't even suffocate it under a blazer. It must breathe, freely. Though not with that hein skirt. We'd be using it as a kitchen rag next year — that giant bow in the front guarantees a limited-use problem; it's like adopting a rabbit with a heart condition, the good times just aren't going to last. But while it jumped around our apartment, flopping its way to the garden, we'd love it like nobody's business.

Okay, we hate the sheer sleeves. But we love everything else.

Look of the Day: Akris

And so we continue our journey of the fall shows from AF Vandevorst to Zero Maria Cornejo. Actually, we are continuing quite slowly, as we are only at Akris, which has got to be the most boring brand we have ever seen in our lives. If we were running for president, if we were maybe Hilary Clinton, maybe we'd be peeing in our pants over this shit, but we're not, and we're not. It makes us a little sleepy. It makes us reach for our little stuffed rabbit. Actually, who'd like to hear why this site is called bunnyshop? Once upon a time, we were a contestant on a version of the Dating Game on the Fox News Channel (pre-psycho-propaganda channel)'s morning show. This was because our best friend was a producer there, and being our best friend, she slipped us the questions before the show. We didn't prepare answers or anything, and for some reason, when we did the actual show, everything that came out of our mouths was close to an obscenity as possible. It was like we were playing the Catskills, or something. And for our very last question, after we'd admitted to enjoying playing with balls in the shower — ba dum dum! — they asked us which kind of animal we most resembled. "Bunnies," we said. "Of course," Bill McCuddy said. We were, we will add, the clip of the day.

The tragic part is that we are absolutely sure that anecdote was more exciting than Akris. Buy it at their Madison Avenue boutique, or at Bergdorf Goodman.


Here's a diffusion line blazer from Akris Punto. But we ask you: $990 for a velvet blazer? Not happening. So not happening.

The Halloween Contest Winner

We'll blame this on our own late-in-the-game marketing strategy, but this, tragically, is the winner of our Halloween costume contest. As you can see, this entrant failed to follow the rules (no celebrities) or, indeed, include a Halloween costume in the photo, which was, of course, the point. Tss. But since we have literally no one else to choose from, we also have a winner, apparently an embittered Philadelphia Eagles fan. The caption: "These guys are dressed up as a winning football team."

This means that absolutely any single other person who sent us a picture would have won. And so concludes the least successful Bunnyshop contest ever. Though we'll say that we're still taking bets on the date of the upcoming Simpson-Lachey divorce.

Holiday Cards, The Return

Holy shit, it's November. When did that happen? Seriously, yesterday it was beautiful and warm and summery. Now it's not. Grarhghggh.

In addition to the crap weather, endless air travel trips (have we mentioned our Sudoku friend on our last flight ("That's not an 8, that's not an 8, that's not an 8," X six hours) who made us want to commit some seppuku, which is way more Japanese than we ever expected to encounter today), and bizarre extended family members asking us what we do for a living, November means that it's time to buy holiday cards. We will buy two dozen, write one, mail none, and that will be it, and it will be January, and we can go back to dreaming about summer. In the meantime, holiday cards.

Pop-up. Celebrate the season, indeed. Celebrate, tss. We'll celebrate when there's a season for buying ourselves as many things as possible. It's like Toys R Us and all these corporate stores somehow found this way to enact this God-mandated commandment that we buy all this shit from their stores. Seriously, it's fucked up. These cards cost more than $2 each, btw. And we still want them. It's like we don't mind we're being brainwashed. It's like we're ... Katie Cruise! $18.95 for 8.


Ha! These are awesome. Reindeer! $11 for 20.


These are also awesome, because they have that whole barely-English-speaking "Happy Merry Christmas" vibe, and for ass-y trend addicts, you can match to your Murakami Louis Vuitton. The super-best thing is that this page also offers the opportunity to "click to Japanese cute explosion!" $15.95 for 8.


Stickers! Making holiday cards attractively interactive. Stickers! This whole holiday thing, it's kind of like dating that guy you're supposed to be in love with, but you're not, exactly, but you're not not, either, so you're just sort of like ... stickers! Irritating. $15.95 for 6.


Green stripes, very mod. Not as exciting as Jarhead, which we are so excited about, but much more exciting than, say, The Hulk coming to TNT. The ribbon is a nice touch. $36 for 20


This picture is tiny, but those blue designs there should clearly be snowflakes. Snowflakes, so appropriately non-denominational. Seriously, one of these days we're just going to get gilt-edged Jesus cards. So we can be just like our evangelical extended family members, who like to ask what we do for a living and then try to figure out if they make more or less then we do. $16, tho, bizarrely, they do not note how many those sixteen dollars gets you.

Halloween Contest Update

Seeing as how we think getting up before 9 a.m. is a ridiculous practice best avoided at all costs, we have delayed our Halloween contest deadline until 5 p.m., a normal time. Please enter. Win! We never win. If we were you, we'd totally enter. And then we wouldn't win, but we're sure you'll do better than we ever could.

Store of the Week: Lucky

We know: fucking Lucky! It's not like so super couture, exactly. But we are from New Jersey, and we shop at the mall from time to time—gleefully, we will add—and when we do, we require places to shop that are neither "PacSun" nor that asshole frat-boy shop with the delightful cashmere sweaters we would be thrilled to link to if they weren't all asshole frat boys there. So: Lucky it is.

The good thing is that no matter how deeply skeptical we are about 75% of what they offer, there are some perfectly reasonable options in that other 25%.

This cowboy shirt is nearly as good as the Blumarine one that costs like $400. There's sort of a trend here, right? It's not exactly what you want, but it costs much less, so it might do. This theory is so dangerously extrapolated to serious relationships every single day, but it's okay for clothes. $84


This scarf looks like some kind of bleached-out intestinal tract here, but once you put it on, it looks a lot less digestive. Particularly alluring with a dark coat beneath it. And even less digestive. Hand-braided scarf, $58


This belt is like half as cool as a Hollywood Trading Company belt, yet it is only 25% of the price, so we're thinking the math works to our advantage here. Studded western belt, $48


This denim jacket isn't as cheap as we'd like it to be, but it is fitted nicely, and apparently that costs extra. Annoying. $98


Somtimes it's like for every good thing, they have to have one heinous thing. For example, this sweater is not heinous. This one is — it's the sweater equivalent of that Halle Berry Catwoman movie, which could totally be projected on to an art gallery wall as some sort of conceptual art piece about self-satire. Is this what people mean by "zero-sum game"? We think this one here is adorable, tho, v. just-back-from-vintage-shopping-in-Stockholm or something. $148