A Julie Andrews Favorite Things Moment

First really Springy day of Spring. Perfect time for a nice, lazy list.
Lists are the "in" thing on blogs these days, nu? (That's Yiddish for "right?" or as Wisconsinites would say "Yah, hey?") So while I'm watching the sun wait for turn-down service--a chocolate sun-spot on its pillow, maybe--my mind is lazily turning over some of the clothes that I either love owning or wish I could afford to love owning. Spoiler Alert: Nowhere is there mention of a Little Black Dress.

1. Ralph Lauren when he isn't being horsy, as in the black cashmere sweater with the huge embroidered gold dragon on it that my husband bought me for Christmas/Chanukah one year.
2. My yellow woven Francesco Biasia handbag. Do I care it isn't real raffia? Do I care it cost more than I should spend on, well, on anything in a year? No. Because I only drag it out when the persistent, rotten, icy, snowy Wisconsin winter seems to have diddled with us for the last time, so it says WARM in double caps. Unfortunately, this year we got six inches of snow three days after I started carrying it. Damn Wisconsin.
3. Boots. Now this seems like a contradiction since I just cursed winter but, call me a little hypocrite if you will or simply too mad, but when it comes to clothing, winter wins hands down. I am never happier than when I can shimmy into a pair of tight, narrow jeans; a soft, figure-hiding--who me, muffin tops?--sweater; and a pair of high, funky boots. My favorites this year were faux-suede, buckled and very Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean by Naughty Monkey, possibly the best shoe brand-name out there.
4. And speaking of tight jeans, I swore, absolutely-force-me-to-drink-only-vodka swore, that I would never pay an obscene amount for a pair of jeans. Who in the entire universe would need to spend over a hundred dollars on a pair of jeans--they were invented, after all, for grubby, smelly miners. (Long pause.) I bought a pair of 7 For All Mankind. Love them. Hardly took them off all winter. Looked better than any pair I've ever owned. Crap.
5. Something designed by Christian Siriano. No, I don't own anything by him (and don't try to claim you don't remember who he is--if you really don't, well, that's what Google is for). I wrote him off as a bratty little twerp early in the fourth season of Project Runway and ended up concluding that he's a friggin' 20 year old genius. A co-design by him and Chris March would be even better.
And finally, no I'm not going for an even ten; I'm too lazy today even for that:
6. Quiet now. I live in Madison, WI. Land of the "I'm more PC than you." But I can't walk near the fur salon at Nordstrom in Chicago without going over to run my fingers over some lovely, soft, elegantly draped, outrageously priced--especially in this tawdry little recession--fur jacket. I could never get past the ethics--would always be sure my cats were eyeing me suspiciously and putting the Humane Society on speed dial. But it is beautiful and it does feel good. And just saying that makes me need to go do penance. Wait, I'm Jewish. I'll take care of it on Yom Kippur next year.