Blogger's Favorites -- Anne of The City Sage

Anne Sage is a seriously cool chic. She's funny (evident in her awesome list below), she fantastically lovely and stylish (evident in those photos above) and she's got killer taste (evident in her equally killer blog, The City Sage.)

Meeting her at Alt (albeit) briefly was one of the highlights of my trip, and I can't wait to hang out again...preferably this time in her next of the woods (one of my all time fave cities, S.F.)

So without further ado, herewith Anne's favorites. Enjoy and have a splendid weekend!


Fruit Bats: No, not the creepy, hairy flying creatures. A super cool band that my genius Huz recently discovered. We like to rock out to their music in the car. Their lyrics are right up my alley (herd of unicorns, anyone?) and it seems like they'd be cool guys to hang with, to boot. Check out their sweetly hilarious Hall and Oates cover.

Other People's Wedding Photos: Not since tiny babies and fuzzy kittens has any single force of nature been so guaranteed to put me in a good mood. I stalk the wedding blogs for hours on end; Green Wedding Shoes is tops. I used to be all about the heavily styled detail shots, but lately I'm feeling.the fleetingly captured emotional moments. Getting sentimental in my old age, perhaps? (Image Credits: Feather Love Photography and Blue Window Photo.)

Brochu Walker: If my depression-era great-grandparents knew how much I spend on a single tee shirt, they'd hogtie me and haul me back to Iowa. But in the process they'd brush against the incredibly soft, swingy linen of my little cropped number, and they'd see how gracefully it drapes beneath the cattle restraints they'd wrapped me in, and all would be forgiven.

Solar Recover: Not to drop names or anything, but I got the heads up on this brand from a former beauty editor of Elle Magazine. She was gorgeous, her kids were gorgeous, presumably her friends in the Hamptons--who all swear by the stuff--were also gorgeous. It smells herbal, like a batty old lady brewed it in her basement. It feels divine--cooling and soothing and toning and moisturizing--for skin like the batty old lady's nubile young granddaughter.

Jamie Oliver: He swears like a sailor and tears up at the thought of kids eating badly. His recipes have never steered me wrong and his accent sets my juices to flowing. Plus he actually looks hot in a trucker cap. In lieu of having a torrid affair with Jamie, I'm trying to convince the Huz to start using British slang words like 'massive' and 'lad'. So far no luck--so I drown my sorrows in Jamie's Beef Wellington instead. Mmmm...beefy.