From Ninedee Three Till…

 **this entry is dedicated to all the victims of Hurricane Sandy; my parents being on the top of that list**


There comes a time in our lives that we forget who we were in the past because we are so in tune with our image of who we are in the present and consumed with planning who we want to be in the future.

I read through these past blog entries, as if they are not my own. I notice how life has changed from year to year. And with this year coming to a close, I get lost in thought of what will come of the next year. And I plan.

Planning has never been my strongest suit. I always lived for the moment and whisked through the days carelessly, yet happily. I always floated through my career, letting the wind take me to where I’d end up next. Maybe it’s a trait of being a Gemini; whimsical, precarious, flighty. I chose this life because the excitement of newness always kept my interest of wanting more change.

Nevertheless, I plan. I plan for the year ahead. I work on my entrepreneurial endeavors and ruminate on ideas of expanding. Corporate America is a place of my past. It taught me the best lessons in life. It sharpened my skills to be able to fix my real future. It also showed me exactly what I don’t want out of life and took my inspiration of ideas of one day owning my own business and executed those dreams into my current reality. And now here, I hold in my hands the tools, as I build my mini empire.

While I plan, my parents rebuild what was destroyed in their lives. They reconstruct the past 40 years of hard work and dedication. They sail down and emotional roller coaster of change. They have watched their lives get washed away with one wave. But I have no doubt in my mind that they will stay up and raise their sails. We all witness the evolution of storm, in one way or another. But we do not all take on the strength needed to come up from it. Some weaken, get defeated and end up drowning. Others press on and keep fighting until they get what they want. Luckily my creators are the best example of survival and success.

And although, time has lapsed since my last entry, I have never stopped thinking. I am reminded daily of the inspiration surrounding me in my life. It’s hard to be proud of the decisions that you make in life, if they do not bring you joy. The key to obtaining that joy is to first find your passions and loves in life. The rest will fall, like dominos. And although, history will make itself, just be mindful of precisely placing yourself in the right direction.


press play while you sift through the photos below::

A few photos from over the past few months:

My city has been turned upside down, but we’ll straighten up in no time…

securedownload-1The next pic was a textgram written during the wake (literally) of Hurricane Sandy…


The following pic is of my creators. It was taken during the time they were displaced from their south shore home. I was making them work out their issues while they were staying in my brother in law’s gym turned shelter, where they stayed for almost 2 weeks…#warriors


The next photo was taken at Astoria Park, Queens. Some borough love! This may just be the best view on the planet….

downloadThe next pic was taken going over the Queensboro Bridge. Some more borough love! Interesting how your perspective changes when you’re not in the driver’s seat…

securedownload-4The next pic was taken from my block at Northern Blvd…#qboroluv

download-4And the following pic is of a heart spotted right under my kitchen window! #stopfollowingme


This is the last photo of borough love. It was taken on my avenue. The stories are as mystical as the skies of 3205…


The next pic was taken on the Upper West Side. If you’re there early on a Sunday morning, the city possess a peacefulness that you cannot find during any other time…

securedownload-7The next photo was taken on the West Side Highway, going downtown, right before it turned into the FDR going uptown…the progress of our Freedom Tower..

securedownload-5And lastly, the next photo is just me…#justdee

securedownload-2xoxo my beauties!! I promise I’ll be back soon…


child’s play

“We’re flawed because we want so much. We’re ruined because when we get these things, we wish for what we had.” –don draper


As the Puerto Rican Day parade passes, the electricity of the summer of NYC sits heavy over our boroughs. This kickoff sparks memories of my adolescence.  While life was probably so much more dangerous as a young teen, we carried on as if we were growing up in the 50’s. In and out of unfamiliar subways and on a mission to wherever, we traveled in small groups. Not yet touched by bad friendships and unattached to the fear of getting too close to anyone, we remained together. The city was a freer place back then. This was before the Giuliani administration and cleanup of 42nd street.There was an element of unpredictable excitement in the air that can never be recreated or engineered. You could feel a deep connection to the street, somewhat reminiscent of the atmosphere in the movie “The Warriors”. Well, maybe not that bad! Or was it? It was fascinating and colorful and filled with surprises and dream.

As I ruminate on this idea, I speak of sample sales with my coworkers. I begin dreaming of the days of when Otto Tootsie Plohound was on Wooster Street and I would browse high end Italian shoes, dreaming of one days walking in them. My college friend and I would go in and out of Soho stores looking for inspiration and ideas on how to sprinkle couture into our wardrobe with accessories. It was more of a challenge then with our city absent from places like Forever 21 and H & M. I don’t even think Forever was opened yet and H & M had only one store, which was the flagship one on 5th Ave. My friends helped open this store and were sent to Sweden to train. We would sit on the steps of St. Patty’s Cathedral and plan our next purchase with their sweet discount.

Both the quality of life and the quality of fashion were more substantial then. Life and t-shirts weren’t paper thin or transparent. The island was lined with music and bookstores.
And the parks filled with a mix of skaters and baggy jeans. Biggie bumped through our car windows. There was no Weezy or dudes wearing skinny jeans that are one step away from leggings. The radio played more reality and not a tape of the same ten songs on repeat. There was real beef in our lyrics. Not like this Common/Drake nonsense, when they hug it out in the end like two chicks.

See, it’s not that I want to be young again. I’ve come to realize that I just want substance back. Now, it seems like these pavements are glossed with a corporate, flawless, colorless face. Every independently owned mom and pop shop has been replaced with just another cookie cutter, manufactured store front.

I ponder the slow evolution of this transformation, as I spin my niece around on a tire swing in Central Park. Her innocence, so appetizing. Her freedom, so pure. Her happiness, so easy. Being around kids has this overwhelming affect on me. It takes my mind to a place of softness. Their lives are so untouched, so clear from any poison and judge free.

I always secretly wish that I didn’t have to grow up. Or maybe that sentiment is not such a secret? And as I listen to my niece recite the 18 varieties of Cheerios in her high pitched cute chipmunky voice, I long the days of my head filled with simple knowledge and any care in the world existing far in my future ahead.


Below is a photo I found from a coffee table book when I stayed at The Le Parker Meridien. The book was entitled Full of Grace by Ray Merritt and this photo is entitled, “Street Child” by Lewis Hine.

Below is a photo I took of my baby niece in Central Park:

Below is a photo that I took of two of my favorite children. It’s entitled “my mou”

Below is a photo I took of my parents, who will remain forever young at heart. It is entitled, “Infinite War”

Below is a clip from the movie “Kids” which was is a scarily real interpretation during times of growing up. This is a little tribute to Casper…RIP Justin (sorry about the sub-titles)

Below is the video for Reminisce. Sorry but no one does it like it Mary! Have a great weekend, my little beauties…

When it rains, it pours…

This entry is dedicated to my parents who gave me the world but always taught me the value of money.


“money is just paper. it comes. and goes.”

The confidence money brings is remarkable. My mother always said that her mother told her that independence comes from having your own money. It’s cold and sterile to look at life this way but it’s basic and simple.
There are those people in life that we wonder about. How do they exude such confidence. How do they walk around not phased by others around them and emotionless about the nonsensical feelings that ordinary people possess. I’ve met some people along the path of life that make me question the way in which I see the world. Unattractive and no trace of personality, lacking charm and charisma these people take confident steps and approach the world free from doubt and clear minded. And I now realize after much discovery, that all this strength comes from the root of being financially stable.  It is that simple of a resolution.
I’d like to dive more into the root the evil of money but that might have to be reserved for a later date to keep my thoughts as uncluttered as possible.
Money can be the make or break of things. If we have too much of it we become spoiled in our ways and need more and more. If we have too little, we become ruthless and might just do anything to get that next dollar.
Both extremes cause ignorance. Unless we have felt both sides, we will never know the other end. We may very well not want to know that other end.
These thoughts come from a few comments I have heard people say around me, that has forced to me to unfortunately judge them as insensitive because of money. Totally untouched by the feeling of true struggle and possessing only leisurely problems of the rich, they look down upon anyone not at their level. I ponder theirs and others that I’ve known unmerited confidence. Or maybe I should call it cockiness. Sometimes the complete disconnection to the reality of poverty is a choice. Maybe the thought alone is not permitted in their brains.
I write this as I luckily sit comfortably in a corner seat on a Friday morning M train, while the rest of the straphangers stand limited of space and comfort. I wonder what they’re destinations are. I would bet that almost all are tied to money. I am almost positive that most are in route to chase the almighty dollar. They stand reading or glancing at their phones energized by the greed laying on the surface of their expressions. But luckily the quality of this commute humbles us all. No matter what designer bag or overpriced uncomfortable shoe we stand in, we wear it in a space free from status. Maybe that is one of the reasons I love this island.  Because while we all may be different as we sit in our corner offices or beside a register behind bulletproof glass, on the streets of this city we are all the same.


Below are two photos that I have taken from or close to the Ogilvy building…the building that puts money in my pocket!

Below was taken seconds before a thunderstorm, in route to watch The Blue Angels fly over the city in honor of Fleet Week.

Below is a pic of SJP in a timeless Chanel jacket, a piece that I would buy if I had the money! Pics on exhibit down on Wooster Street in honor of Mr. Lagerfeld. When I go take a peak, I will post more about it. Here is a sneak peak…

Below is the link to a great video/commentary by Bill Cunningham. It can’t be embedded…so just click it!

Below is my new FAVE song…luv to blast it in my new shiny car…;)


This entry is dedicated to my past. Without it, I would have no present and without that there is no future.

“look way deep inside yourself, from there you will find your wealth”


There are those days that we get on the train going the wrong way. Or those moments that we get on the highway going East instead of West. Our sense of direction may be off or we may simply be lost. I think about this as I sit on the gritty R train heading Queens bound from Brooklyn. I jumped on the R from the N at some stop along the way and completely forgot it was a local. I hit every unfamiliar Brooklyn stop. I learned a few years ago that the street names in downtown Brooklyn mirror the layout of lower Manhattan. That day I was lost on Jay St. in Brooklyn when I should have been on Jay St. in Manhattan. I was going in the wrong direction. I was in the wrong place.
So, now as I sit here years later, confused by each stop that I pass, I second guess myself. I sit uncomfortably, unsure of this choice that I’ve made in an attempt to shorten my trip back home.  So, when in doubt lost in the puzzle of the nyc subway and bus system, I always ask a teenager. Young people always know their way around the grid of the MTA map. I mentioned this once years ago on this blog and I’ll remain to stand by it. So as the young guide me, I sit in thought inspired by this mini journey. I dissect the idea of direction, in ever sense. And in an attempt to get these thoughts of mine on track, I scribble in this note pad.

In life, we all want to be headed in the right direction. It’s not easy, by any means, to stay on track. It’s a challenge to keep straight and then take all the right turns. There are times when we accidently take the wrong turn or maybe we intentional veer off.  Truthully, going the wrong way is sometimes just more fun. Getting lost is always an adventure. You discover things that you wouldn’t have otherwise.  A llittle detour is ok, as long as we find our way back home.
And that takes me to the next step that my thoughts took me in. I’m here in this ratchet R train headed home; home to my q-boro; to my car; my apartment. To the place that I made a home. We all need this feeling of knowing where we belong and having a base to return to. We sometimes spend years searching for that sense of fitting in a neighborhood or with a person or at a job. Some of us are luckier than others and get it right without a lot of effort. Or maybe the more particular we are, the harder it is to find the perfect fit.
My thoughts wander jumping from one idea to the next. And as each stop passes and I get closer to home, I think of the constants throughout my ever chainging world. I realize that while journeying through this life, we pick up people and things along the way that remain by our side throughout. People that we come to adore we grab onto and hold close, as we go through our own changes and watch them go in and out of thiers. We watch each other grow. We take so many different things with us along our own path. We take love for music. We pick up habits that we try to kick or embrace. We acquire new tastes for foods or style. We latch onto figures of speech and our grammar is affected by the company that we keep.
Sometimes, we change our jobs and we remain in touch  with the ones we have love for. We move but never move on. These additions to our lives help mold us into who we are. They affect our choices and opinions. And if you really examine the steps in which we take to get to the exact place we are in right now, we realize that any little difference in direction could change our life entirely. It’s a little overwhelming to anaylze. That’s why sometimes I just run through these days at high speed. Or maybe thats the way in which i find my life in this city of mine.  NYC has that effect on you. Were always rushing and every minute counts.

In my recent days, I’ve bypassed the idle while in the express lane. Anyone or anything that is not on board sadly gets left behind. Slowing down is just not an option. It’s either the highway with no speed limit or parked. There is no cruising. No medium. No pulling over.
So, with these circumstances, or any, we have no choice but to truly be mindful of every step we take and of each stop me make. Because in this race, there is no room for missteps; no trip ups; no detours. This lifestyle of being on the run has no room for wrong stops. Any misdirection will have us shut down and well end up no where but lost.


Sorry for the lengthy entry; it’s been a while!

Below are a series of photos that I took throughout my journeys in the MTA and such. Hearts have been popping up everywhere on the west side of Manhattan. Soon, I will write a an entry to add to my story of finding hearts.

This is entitled: “below 14th”

Below is entitled “signs west”…finding hearts as per usual

Below is entitled “Cracked”..another heart found in Woodside, Queens.

Below is untitled but found on the M train early in the morning. I wonder what made it..gross

Below is entitled “Temperature’s Risin”…the evolution of our new World Trade Center…the rebuilding of our empire

Below is untitled but just a shot of my view after a worthwhile commute:

Below is a sketch from my past entitled “ruins”

Below is entitled “stuntin”…best weekend!

Below is a new Nicki vid..enjoy! And have a beautiful weekend!!!!!!

Socialistic Style

**press play above while you read**

This entry is dedicated to my father; a man who could care less about fashion but will still give me an honest opinion about my outfit.

“I used to walk down the street like I was a fucking star… I want people to walk around delusional about how great they can be – and then to fight so hard for it every day that the lie becomes the truth.”
Lady Gaga

So, we all know that it’s become the recession trend for high end designers to showcase their work through the common folk stores. I haven’t decided yet if I’m fully for or against it. I’m all for helping the working class. I mean, I am the working class! But isn’t there something about admiring a designers work and then one day finally owning a piece? Those pieces that sit in your wardrobe are valued. I still adore my Helmut Lang belt that I bought in college. I love my Moschino Mare swimwear. And I will forever cherish my Vivienne Westwood dress that I pull out occasionally when the right time and mood calls for it. Over the years, you pick these pieces with precision and deep thought. And if you’re lucky enough to find it at Century 21 or Woodbury Commons, then it’s like a treasure!
Nowadays it seems so simple, almost too simple, to attain the unattainable. With all the designers creating for Target or Kmart and now even The Gap, it’s all right at our fingertips.  But can we compare this designer downgrade to, lets say, Marc by Marc Jacobs verses Marc Jacobs? No because it’s still Marc Jacobs. It’s not Marc for Conway.  Is that what’s next? What ever happen to a fashion class system? Is this the universal healthcare of the fashion industry? Is it, yet another, desperate attempt to make us all equal while slowly blurring the lines between the rich and the poor. If we’re all equal then what do we have to work for? Does our incentive to get more, make more and be more just disappear? Do we become satisfied..comfortable?
If were all rocking Diane Von Furstenberg, then where’s our inspiration to move forward, to be more successful or to make more money. I don’t know if I’m alone in this thought, but I don’t want to be on the same level as the rest of the world. I thrive on the diversity of my city. And I admire everyone’s different stories of success or failure. Were all working toward something. We want that X5 or those Louboutins or that vacation to Europe. Or maybe you’re just working toward providing for yourself or your family. We may even work to have our own little apartment, our pad, our peace. No matter which way you define it, this hunger is what makes our world go round.
Strangely, after I jotted these thoughts down in my notepad, I found myself in Gap Kids picking up DVF’s dresses in an attempt to get my niece a cute Floridian dress. Don’t get me wrong, the patterns were pretty and the colors bright but the stitching was poorly done and the quality was low. I hung them back on the messy rack in disgust. If was Diane, I don’t think I would have put my name on that label. But I guess money rules all in life and she surrendered to the almighty dollar. There’s nothing like having your clothes manufactured in a third world country and selling it for quadruple the price. It seems like a no brainer.
These thoughts of mine stem from the latest line by Alberta Ferritti in Macy’s.  I became enamored by the ads that are covering our cross-town busses and our subway platforms. I have a feeling the campaign was simply done but an outstanding photographer because it takes a lot to slow my speed walking down when I’m heading westbound early on a Monday morning. Italian designers have that affect on me, especially when the ads seem to be shot in Italy. Maybe it’s my natural magnetism toward my roots. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for beautiful images like anyone else.
Either way, I’m drawn to this line and started really questioning my approval of this integration of couture and ready to wear “affordable” clothing. I’m all for collaborations, but when they seem to have a deeper meaning I start dissecting. Maybe my political views are spilling over into my styling.  Hey, maybe I should just appreciate the efforts of the designers, rather than being so skeptical of their motives.
I hope once the “recession” is over, we can all back to the days where it was fun to walk down 5th Ave. and window shop, daydreaming about one day simply walking into Fendi and impulse shopping. Until then, I’ll continue to watch these two extreme worlds of retail melt into one and this reinvented industry of fashion evolve.

Below is the ad for Alberta Ferritti for Macy’s at Impulse. My curiosity will mostly likely kill me and I’ll end up on 34th Street..truth be told.
Below are a few sketches from the work of Alberta Ferriti that I found to be pretty cool.
Below is the DVF ad for Gap Kids.
Below is one of my fave ads from Dolce & Gabbana
and a lil vid for the moment♥♥♥don’t 4get 2 press stop if j is still playing!

lead by the hand

this entry is dedicated to all the nail and hair salons of NY who groom the women of our city–keep competing ladies–it makes our city the hottest one in the world

“Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting and modern.”-meditations in an emergency

I come from a family of extremely strong women. I was raised by female entrepreneurs, with visions and stories of success. My grandmother owned diners in the Hunts Point Market in the Bronx when women were still in the home cooking, cleaning and knitting. Women in the workplace were unheard of then. My mother was raising a child alone, getting a divorce and having a baby late in life (me) when it was not yet the norm or the trend. Now women wait to have a family. They choose their careers first. They succeed in their own personal lives before extending that success to a man or a child. I see now that the women in my family were all ahead of their time. I know now that I was lucky to have been influenced by such strength and positivity. And I feel now the root of it sprouting up through my own life.

Of course this behavior was innate in me as a child. But it’s only until you grow and change, do you see things in the right perspective enough to understand.  A few things have happened in the past week that has lead to my choice of topic of today’s blog.

I watch my sister raise her child so flawlessly. She dedicates her all to my niece’s education and her personal happiness. My niece is a naturally smart child. But she was born into the right hands and will one day be her own leader and lead others. Great parenting should never go unnoticed. It should always be praised because these children will one day helps us, cure us and guide us by the hand.

I read an article in Bazaar about a 66 year old fashion designer Norma Kamali. She would make most 20 year olds jealous. She’s beautiful and in great shape. She is so perfectly put together and shines! She’s successful and this inspired me.

I went to a poetry reading on Thursday. My new client is a poet and was having a small reading. Her work moved me when I read it from her book. But to hear it out loud was great! I admire when people get up and share their work. The actual act of sharing can sometimes be more moving than the work itself.

Strangely, it was women leadership week at my job. I got the chance to hear Shelly Lazarus speak about being a woman in a man’s world, her road to success and balancing her personal life with her career. She’s the chairman of Ogilvy. She has 3 children and 4 grandchildren. That alone impressed me. She manages to do it all and do it great!

So many things can inspire us but very few things hit home. Words can sometimes resonate so deeply that it makes a real difference in your own life. The stories I hear fascinate me. Maybe because they are so different than my own. Or maybe because they are so similar. Either way, inspiration is a chain. And it shines brightest when it naturally just links together.

Below are a few photos of Norma Kamali taken from her timeline on her website.

Below is Norma nowadays…

Below is one of her pieces on Nicki. How funny! So cute!

Below is one of her dresses…my fave!!

Below is a Nicki song that I’ve been playing over and over…sorry I know I’m on Young Money over load!!

tell me why you’re mad

“surround yourself with partners that are better than you are”-david ogilvy

With the new season of Mad Men starting this weekend, I have only made it through the first season of dvds. A friend reminded me how dark this show can be. And I began thinking about how I have become such a big fan. Is it because I now work in the field of advertising so I can relate? Or is it that I’m just naturally drawn to its depressing tone?

I’m only a newbie, in both advertising and to Mad Men, but I feel right at home. The secrets, the controversy, the playfulness is all tied into to a creative world. We all have so many different emotions running through us at different moments. It seems in life that the ones that are perceived as “sane” are very controlled and tamed individuals. They exemplify order and organization. But deep down inside, I am confident, that they are simply a mess.

At times, I see the world on the other side of the coin. Maybe the ones that have zero tolerance and, at the least, lack self editing skills are really the happiest and therefore the most sane. We can drive ourselves insane trying to control who we really are at our core. It deems harder for the less passionate of people. But if you feel deeply about something, you just can’t help but to act irrationally. We yell, we scream, we fight and we simply exhaust ourselves but solely trying to be ourselves. Is there any rhyme or reason to this?

I still haven’t figured out a few of the relationships in the show Mad Men. I wonder about Peggy and Pete’s connection. Do they hate each other? Or love each other? Or maybe they just love to hate each other? We’ve all been there. Confused in our own emotions and trying to understand our own present relationships. We chase the beast and shun the beauty. This is just nature of the animal that lives in our human souls. Remove all the fluff and we all thrive off the same uncivilized emotions. Love or lust or jealously or hate or any of the…well..sins.

Some connections can never be thoroughly understood no matter how much we dissect them. Some are just more complicated than others. And that is maybe the fascination I have with the characters in this show. I’m confused. They’re hard to read. And the mystery of them, sits thick like the smoke that hovers over the Sterling Cooper office.


There are times I feel like I have to apologize for being me

But maybe it’s just that people never take the time to see

That we all love the same

and we all feel pain

so before you judge and then talk behind my back

remember that the honesty you have with yourself is the only thing you lack


Below is an illustration by one of my faves, Tara McPherson entitled “Love Blows”

It’s been a long week, my beauties!!!!

So, ready to parlay for the weekend. Put this song on and BLAST IT! I (miggght just get me a new tattoo this wknd that says nyc♥) shh don’t tell

Gulp!! Yolo babyyyy!!