'Good Girl' Don't Cry

What makes the storm engulfing Rihanna and Chris Brown (who's now something of a fallen prince), all the more tempestuous is that so many among their fans had percieved Brown as a force for good in her life, a playful (age-appropriate) presence. From where I sit, just about five feet from my window is a kiosk whose display case is lined with celebrity tabloids carrying pictures of a forlorn looking Rihanna. The record-label conceit that the black leather-clad pop&B chanteuse was a "Good Girl Gone Bad" had been challenged by photographs in the aforementioned weeklies that showed the couple frolicking at an amusement park, munching on french fries - all the sweet, ordinary things you do with your BF. Of course, these were chart-topping, platinum-selling etoiles. Was Rihanna out there "Livin a Lie," as she sang on The-Dream's Love Hate record? While we all wait for the verifiable truths to emerge, I'm keeping the Def Jam princess in my thoughts.

Chanel No. 1

Back when I barely had a notion that I might one day find my name and affiliation taped to a front row seat at Fashion Week in New York, I used to watch the shows on the local cable channels, daydreaming, wishing I were there. So much of the thrill of the shows to me was about the (black) models, whom we knew then by name: Naomi, Veronica, and later, Alek, Liya. At the top of the current crop of generously pigmented beauties is Sessilee Lopez, Arlenis Sosa, Jourdan Dunn, and Chanel Iman (pictured). Chanel happens to be one of my favorite posers right now. A rash of commercial and editorial work has followed her, from GAP campaigns to coveted spreads in Vogue and Teen Vogue. The girl can do Neutrogena-scrubbed clean as effortlessly as high fashion Marc Jacobs. The 20-year-old biracial model has been tabloid fodder for her dating choices (Ryan Leslie, Kanye), both real and imagined, but it's the strut that got my attention. She's gangly and almost equine (impossibly long limbs) off the runway, but under the flashing lights, playing dress up, she does her dual namesakes proud.

Pitching a Tent at Fashion Week

Fashion Week kicked off on Friday the 13th and appropriately so: With magazines folding, editors and reporters bidding adieu to corporate cubicles, and the well of invites and pre-recession freebies running dry for some, the mood has been a bit somber at Bryant Park. On this sunny Tuesday morning, I ducked (sans notebook) under the great white tents to catch a glimpse of the Fall 2009 presentations, beginning with the Badgley Mischka show. The front row was decidedly light on star-wattage- I mean Kim and Khloe Kardashian and a country-singing American Idol also-ran were the most recognizable bold-faces, which I found utterly depressing. But the fashions were notable, particularly since I'm not typically a fan of the red-carpet staples that are the stock-in-trade of BM. But these gowns and frocks were heavy on black in a variety of textures, including boucle, georgette, and satin chiffon. It model Sessilee Lopez was here (and everywhere) showing floor-sweeping evening numbers paired with, in many cases, opaque black tights and chunky, open-toe jeweled platform stillettos. It was unusual but I warmed to it- a little grunge at the gala.

Love of My Life

Met a guy a few months ago on a New Jersey Transit platform. Asked whether I was a Delta, and did I like long walks, jazz clubs, Barack Obama. Said I seemed like the kind of girl who could only be with a guy who was visionary, ambitious, creative. I've often been drawn to the dude with the most eclectic record (see Mp3) collection; with the obscure, imported comic books preserved in a box; with his notebooks full of charts, prose, and rhymes; the one slinging his guitar like an ax, his camera like a gun. In a city like Gotham though, it can be hard to distinguish the humble, thinking, creative type in a sea of pencil jean-wearing boys who can shop like a m'uu'r but whose minds are hollow. connecting can be confusing. If you swab the relationship trajectory of someone such as Erykah Badu, you'll of course turn up a predilection for MCs -Andre 3000, Common, the D.O.C., and most recently Jay Electronica (pictured) - sweeping aside for a moment her grasp on family values. Lady clearly has a yen for men who commit. To the art that is. And I can understand it.

Tools of the Trade

When the dust from the media layoffs, downsizings and closures has finally settled, this year might well be remembered as the one in which the print landscape confronted its future. The Web has encroached upon traditional media, leaving newspapers on life support and magazines reeling from the sharp decline in advertising revenue. Still, through it all, I find myself going back to why wanted to be in this business in the first place. After graduating from college, I talked my mom into buying me a laptop. Like a carpenter with his tool belt, I thought any writer worth her salt should first invest in the tools of her trade. She acquiesced and got me a PC - not the citrus-colored iMac I had seen the fictional Carrie Bradshaw writing her relationship articles on for her New York Star column, in early episodes of Sex & the City. But I was thrilled to have the clunky book; took some turns in publishing and eventually learned the gratification of reporting, the dignity of honest work, chasing stories, and the quiet satisfaction of a page 1 byline. "Don't you just love the newspaper life?" our editor-in-chief would ask. Still do.

Blue Magic

I'm not the first to fall hard for a pair of blue suede shoes. A certain peanut butter-and-banana sandwich-loving rock 'n' roll icon famously warned that you could do just about anything but step on his beloved footwear. For spring/summer 2009, Christian Louboutin's Ron Ron shoe in turquoise suede (blue pump, above) is an instant pick me-up. The powdery hue plays off the signature red soles to perfection. Walk hard.