just a small little postie..

guys, i am seriously slammed right now at work, not sure WHEN i will leave tonight. BUT, i stumbled upon these babies during my 5 minutes of fun time while eating a piece of cake i stole from the gucci cafeteria (picture at bottom)...and i just HAD to post - just a short and sweet (just like me) little post about these amazinggggg little mocassin loafers. man that isabel sure knows WHAT'S UP. they're just calling my name..they're like "KIM! KIMMM!!" and i'm like "NOT NOW, CAN'T U SEE I'M CRANKING?!" though kim is not my real name. c'mon guys, obvi i use a pseudonym - can't have people knowing my real identity!! these little mocassin loafers just screaammmmm CAAAJJJ NATIVE AMERICANNNN!!! i am so obsessed. damn, my 5 minutes of fun time have gone into over-time - i am in the 7 minutes of fun time range now...you know me, made to live on the EDGE. thank GOD i type fast, guys. OKAY, cake is done, so gots to go. DON'TULOVETHEMTOO?!

the confessions of a cyber tryhard

i’m not going to lie, the cyberworld is really throwing my rules of tryhard and caajness into disarray and frankly, i’m just as confused as you are. i know that all you loyal readers look to me for advice on how to avoid looking like a tryhard and regard me as your caaj guru, but dearest readers, i must admit my limitations. i have not been able to figure out the rules of online caajness.

in my born-in-the-80s world, hashtags, check-ins, and constant photo sharing are seen as trying too hard. i mean why else would one check in at a cool, hip new restaurant other than to shout to the world – LOOK AT HOW COOL/SOCIAL/IN-THE-KNOW/VIP I AM!!!! if that’s not tryhard, then i don’t know what is. same with hashtags – the point of hashtags is to “subtly” say all the things to make yourself look cool that you can’t say without the pound sign in front. for example, a photo of a pair of nondescript shoes you’re wearing with an oversized shirt and torn jeans accompanied by a hashtag saying #manolos to let the world know those caaj non-logoed shoes are in fact designer afterall, so don’t think that just because you’re caajly dressed to resemble a hobo that you actually are a hobo. or a self-portrait where you make “sleepy eyes”, but otherwise look stunning and brilliantly-styled with a hashtag saying #sodeadtoday or #partiedtoohard is intended to show to the world how attractive, well-dressed, and cool you are. while most people born in the late 80s would admit that all of this aforementioned activity is extremely tryhard, especially on facebook, somehow all of this is A-OK on instagram where the rules of tryhardness just don’t seem to apply. anything flies on instagram. instagram is an alternate universe where being a tryhard is the norm – if you’re not a tryhard, then get off instagram.

so here it is – my grand admission. I AM AN INSTAGRAM TRYHARD – except such a thing does not seem to exist!! since the norm on instagram IS tryhard, does that in fact nullify my tryhardness? man, all these logic games are confusing me – THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T TAKE THE LSAT, PEOPLE!! yes, i am the girl who has posted a photo of my shoes with hashtag manolo. i am also the girl who has put locations on my photos telling people exactly which cool restaurant i am eating at. i am guilty of all this tryhard behavior you accuse me of. i know all of you are extremely disillusioned with me right now. you would have rather not known. you would have rather i had just kept it to myself. it was selfish of me to tell you – it was to ease my heavy heart but burden yours. i got to clear my conscience, but left you to pick up the pieces. NO, YOU’RE WRONG, YOU'RE TOTALLY WRONG – i told you because i CARE about you. i want you to know that IT’S OKAY. it’s okay if you’ve been acting like a tryhard on instagram – it is an alternate reality, IT DOESN’T COUNT!! as soon as you close your instagram app, you’re FREE - your tryhardness ends!! you are still the caaj queen that you know yourself to be, so don't be so hard on yourself. keep posting your photos, keep hashtagging. be free, my child. just keep the tryhardness to instagram. i can't help you if it spreads to facebook..

i dunno..

so i understand that this is THE new silhouette for chic flats (well, according to my daily saks emails, that is) - but i just don't feel it, guys.  I JUST DON'T FEEL IT IN MAH BONES.



while this view (above) certainly makes them look chic and wearable...THIS (below), MY FRIENDS, is what these actually look like:

there is something kind of dorky about them? like i wouldn't feel cool wearing them. or i'd feel cool (because i always feel cool), but they would give me a weird feeling. like they're kind of dorky and ugly so that makes them slightly off-beat and cool? the way i'm seeing them worn is as follows - boyfriend jeans rolled up, these flats in the luggage color (shown above), with a white tshirt, and boxy jacket on top. maybe a necklace? a long one...and luscious locks to top it all off of course.

but i dunno - i'm still not totally sold. i keep looking at them and oscillating between hate and a weird uncomfortable fondness for them..i dunno, guys, i just dunno - I'M SO CONFUSED!!

a caaj italian tale of living on the edge

I get dressed with extra care this morning. Not for any particular reason. Just feel like it. You know those days when you put in a little bit more time just because? Peruse Net-a-Porter’s styling suggestions. Am I in a skinny pants with loose top and sky-high heels mood or more of a maxi dress and flat Grecian sandals mood? Hmm, what is the weather like today? Is today going to be a mussed-up dry-shampooed wavy hair day or is it going to be a freshly-washed straightish-but-with-volume hair day?? Pink blush or coral blush?? Decisions, decisions. It’s not easy trying hard to not look like a tryhard, my friends, not easy at all.

9:15 am comes and goes. 9:20. 9:35 and I’m still not ready. I couldn’t seem to move this morning from the 5-inch radius on my bed that my single fan’s cool air touches. If you moved half an inch to either side, you were confronted with such a hot, sticky humidity that the prospect of getting out of bed and getting ready seemed nearly impossible. Finally, at 9:45, I am out the door. I walk down my windy, cobblestone street with that “omg, I’m going to get into trouble” nervousness you feel when you’re running late (I’ve been a conformist who is scared of authority my whole life, people). I essentially feel that nervousness every moment of every single day since I am always running late. I would like to take this moment to clear my name though – here and now. I run late not because I am one of those prima donnas who takes so long to get ready, but more because I don’t start getting ready until it’s very late. I bargain with  myself and (successfully) convince myself that I can watch 20 more minutes of an episode and I’ll just get ready in 3 minutes. Or I can extend my nap for another 15 minutes if I think up my outfit while I am still lying in bed. All of these methods usually fail and I end up perpetually late (if you’re friends with me, please tell me we are meeting 15 minutes before we actually are). Some people might take this to mean that I suffer from a condition called delusion. Instead, I call it being a dreamer. I like to set “reach the stars”, unrealistic goals for myself as a motivational tool – “I CAN eat a dozen cupcakes in one sitting”, “I WILL run for 20 minutes straight”, “I CAN grow two inches if I drink 1 gallon of milk everyday” (okay this one was my dad – he was very hopeful). 

Anyways, I am moving my little leggies as fast as I can now. I knew I shouldn’t have watched that extra episode last night, but I have no self control  when all the episodes from a season of my new favorite show are available to me! I get so addicted that I may or may not put down my diet coke with lime and lie about having to leave post-dinner drinks early due to a “last minute call that just popped up on my calendar” JUST so I can run home, get into my pjs, settle down on the couch, and watch an episode! Alas, I digress.

I walk briskly, my eyes searching for all my neighborhood friendies. The paunchy, tattooed barista from the café at the corner jokingly covers the eyes of the other barista so as to imply that only he should get to look at me – oh giacomo, you’re so silly (I have no idea what his name is actually…). Then my gypsy friend – let’s call her Anamaria -  hollers “ciao principessa! sei così bella oggi!!” as she approves of my caaj chic stylings for the day. I hand her the 2 euros that I give her every other day (I mean c’mon guys, I’m not made of money here) to basically be my friend. Actually, I regard the two euros as payment for services rendered – she serves as my sounding board every morning, a barometer of sorts, to determine how cute my outfit is that day and whether or not I get an A+ for effort. Anamaria is going to her homeland tomorrow though, so I don’t know what I will do for the next few weeks - the walks to work will be so uneventful. Where is her homeland anyway?? Actually, I don’t have time to find out – focus, Kim, focus. I bid her adieu and keep briskly moving my little leggies as fast as I can.

If I don’t hurry, not only will I be insanely late to work, but the bakery around the corner from the office will run out of my whole wheat croissants!! “posso avere un brioche integrale per favore?” that is the extent of the italian i have learned during my year in Italy, but it serves me very well. I find that I think of whole wheat croissants as health food – like how eating a serving of fruit or something is good for you. It’s a step up from the donut I used to eat every morning, so I really feel that I’m growing up, my palate becoming more sophisticated…  

AH I was right – they ran out!!! No more integrale brioches, my friends. This is going to be a sad day, I can feel it. I knew I shouldn’t have snoozed for those extra ten minutes!!! It’s okay, keep walking. Say Buongiorno!!! to the big friendly bodyguard (Karl Lagerfeld just cast his bodyguard as the face of his line…I better stay on this bodyguard’s good side, he could be the face of tomorrow) as I sheepishly and slyly try to slip into the building. Get in the elevator – 4^th floor? asks the chicly dressed woman as she presses the button for me. Sheesh, I wish I wasn’t so important (this is a joke) and people didn’t know me - makes getting in late even worse!! I arrive at my desk all flustered and stressed – but I wouldn’t have it any other way, some of us were born to live on the edge…

OK, so when is lunch?

a birthday post

i have a confession. i am a huge birthday tryhard – it’s my one of my (few) caaj shortcomings. i feel like a caaj birthday girl would be one of those really cool, understated people with a minimalist facebook profile with no birthday listed. the kind of girl who wants no attention on her birthday. in fact, the kind of girl who does not even remember it’s her birthday. the kind who is as annoyed about somebody knowing it’s her birthday as she is when someone asks “is that new?” about something that she’s wearing. damn, i wish i was that cool, but i’m not.

i love my birthday. since the day i was born into this great little world until now, my birthday has been treated as a national holiday within my family (for my parents -- because they want to, and for my brothers – because my parents force them to act like it’s a national holiday). it’s the one day of the year where i love being the center of attention (fine, i’m lying – i love being the center of attention always). i wake up feeling like a princess, I put on a special outfit, make my hair extra special, allow myself two donuts except one, and generally have a big special smile plastered on my face all day (until the end of the day, when i realize it’s over and it’s a huge letdown and i cry a little secretly…)

but i must say, birthdays are an event that brings out the ultimate tryhard behavior. i mean the entire point of your birthday is to scream to the world how much everyone loves you – the facebook posts, the non-stop texts, the presents, the pictures, the big party, the paparazzi – there is nothing caaj in there, my friends. birthdays are all about showcasing to the world how much you are loved and how many people are soooooooo glad that you were brought into this world and that, my dear readers, is not caaj, not caaj at all.

BUT, i have some gooooooooooooooood news. i think – actually, I BELIEVE – that if you are super caaj year-around, it is A-OK to act like a tryhard princess on your birthday. and guess what, guys!! this is MAH blog and i make the rules!!! so go ahead, celebrate your birthday as big as you want. And don’t forget to parcel over a couple cupcakes (or a dozen) to via caaj kim’s casa in milano. grazie mille!!!

monochromatic caaj

let me tell you - living in italy is great, except when you’re not really picking up much Italian and your English skills have stagnated (if not regressed, to be honest). in that vein, i don’t want to over-exert my little brainie and draft an entire post in english today (post-lunch lull does not help with the motivation) - so instead, my loyal little readers, i am posting my favorite all-black looks from my favorite inspiration bank, net-a-porter. i must warn you though that these looks are not so summer – why does that always happen? when it’s fall, you can’t wait to showcase your summer wardrobe and as soon as temperatures hit 80 degrees, you start longing for that crisp fall breeze so you can strut around in your booties and cape. maybe that’s just me though since i’m opting to rough it, third world-style, with only a fan this summer so that i can buy more shoes instead of getting an AC  (how was i supposed to know that ACs don’t come standard in italy (much like in Pakistan actually fyi…i’m just sayin)).

anyways, i guess that’s just human nature – always looking forward, excited for the next thing and never fully appreciating the present moment. sometimes i am so wise, it’s crazy. but don’t fret, my little pets - i will not abandon this amazing little style blog in favor of authoring a self-help “how to live a better life” column in the huffington post anytime soon (no matter how wise i might get). i will continue to inspire you by stealing pictures from other sites!! enjoy the looks below and get excited for fall!

croppity tops - resist the crop

you know what's really hard to act caaj in - a crop top.

every few years, things like crop tops come back into style, and it's a real problem. every average joe (or josephine rather) begins to think that showcasing her flabby little belly in a crop top is fashionable. just because gwyneth and miranda and rihanna do it DOES NOT mean that you, average joe(sephine), should do it. please trust me on this - after the five cupcakes you ate this weekend and the donut you may or may not have had this morning, do not even consider putting that cropped top on.

and beyond just who should or should not be wearing a crop top, a crop top is very difficult to look caaj in. you clearly think you've got a hot bod and you want to show it off in that crop top. the secret to caaj is to put on something that very surprisingly showcases one of your best features - like omg, this huge unattractive bag that i am wearing as a dress makes my legs look so skinny and long - OR - if i actually wear my boyfriend's jeans, my waist looks so tiny! a crop top is in no way a subtle showcasing of your best asset - it is more like wearing a big sign that says "HAAAYYY! look at how hot my flat stomach is!!" and we, at the styleruminative, are all about subtlety - never letting the observer know how much time, effort, or thought went into that look you "just threw on."

don't get me wrong - the crop top certainly looks cute - but caaj it is NOT. i have included some photos below to accomplish three objectives: (a) showcase the types of bodies that are allowed to wear crop tops (b) demonstrate that these people, despite being allowed to, still should not be wearing crop tops because they look like tryhards (gwyneth even looks kinda awkward if u ask me..) and (c) give myself motivation to go to the gym.

is caajkim maybe a little jealous of their physiques? perhaps, but who are you anyway, my therapist?!? let's just stick to the task at hand here and just take the advice. trust me on this - if u are not a celebrity, resist the crop.

editor's note - selena's take on the crop top styled with the high-waisted skirt below may hide many a flabby belly and only show the skinniest part of the torso, so i'd recommend this option for those of you who are insistent on donning a crop top - but please note, that she does not look caaj.