Dear Uggs,

Are you familiar with the Beatles’ song “Hello Goodbye?” Well, it’s like you keep saying “Hello” and I keep saying “Goodbye” but you never seem to be going anywhere. In short, you’ve over stayed your welcome five years too long and caused me unnecessary bouts of anger along the way.

When I first saw you, on a stand in the shoe section of Nordstroms, I don’t think I minded your presence entirely that much. I touched you, and you were soft and luxurious and I wondered how you were mean to to be worn. “Where does this fit into life?” I pondered to myself.

The day I met you, is the day I let you go. I walked past you and knew, even back then, that you and I were not a perfect fit, so to speak. I prayed however, that you would find your way back to Australia again, back with the residents of rural areas you have been popular with. You see, I understand why you were popular during World War I and II, when aviators needed you to keep warm in non-pressurized planes at high altitudes. I even understand why people living in cold climates today might wear you, as the sheepskin you’re made from keeps feet at body temperature. I get it, believe me.

But Ugg boots, please explain one thing to me if you can. Why must hoards of fashionably-challenged women and girls in this wonderful city tout you around like they’ve discovered the arch of the covenant? Why must I be forced to stare at women who think fashion-forward means wearing black leggings tucked in Ugg boots with a big flowy sweater on top? Why God why? What has the city of Los Angeles done to you to deserve such an injustice?

You see Ugg boots, people think this city is a terrible place to be already. We don’t need your influence in the matter. The people who have worked hard to make this city somewhat of a fashionable place don’t deserve this. Please pack up your belongings and go away. If not for my sake, for the sake and reputation of this city. We don’t have proper winters here, we know this. We are not suited for your presence. The sooner you go away, the sooner the delusional women in this city will realize what a horribly un-stylish mistake they were committing.

I long for the days when the letters “U” “G” “G” stood for “United Grain Growers” not a fashion disaster that has spread like the bubonic plague.

Kindly,

Liana

If you didn’t know, I love shoes. I’d like to think that I’m unique in that aspect, but who are we kidding, every warm blooded woman and their mother would kill for the perfect pair of shoes. Let’s face it, I most likely cannot afford more than half the shoes below, but that can’t stop me from admiring their beauty. And it’s not only about the money, because unlike Victoria Beckham, I would rarely have a place to wear such fabulous creations to. Between those Miss Sixty Anklestraps, to those Ruffle Back Prada Pumps, I really could just melt. Interestingly enough the “pump” has been around since the 1500s, when it was known as “pompe.” Every woman should have a couple pairs, as their timeless class and understated beauty will never go out of style.

Urban Outfitters - $68, Miss Sixty - $189

J.Crew - $289, Faryl Robin, $189

Prada - $650, Chie Mihara - $409

I’m a firm believer in quality versus quantity, in most aspects of life. The one area where this isn’t stressed enough is fashion and style. There was a period in recent years when I though the newly vamped and redesigned Forever 21 was the end all be all of clothing. I could walk in, get three shirts, five pairs of earrings, a bag and a dress for $50. Could it get any better than this? I thought. Little did I know, it could. In about six months time, all of those items either broke, came apart or disappeared into trend hell. That’s when I realized that the cheap and disposable route to fashion was a dead end.

I was never into Forever 21, to be honest. When classmates in high school would rant and rave about it, I would call it “Polyester Emporium.” I remember taking shopping trips to United Colors of Benetton and Nordstrom with my mom. When I was a toddler in Tehran, she would dress me in the best that European fashion had to offer. I had never even stepped foot in a Walmart until a couple of years ago.

My mom taught me a valuable lesson when it came to clothing: when shopping, quality always overrules quantity. You have to think of clothing as an investment, not something you can wear for a couple months and then throw away. Of course, disposable basics are always permitted, but when it comes to big things (wool coat, boots, dress shirts), the best thing to dispose of are idealogies that allow you to grab items feverishly until you can’t walk anymore just because everything is $20 or under.

I made a decision a couple months ago that as long as I could, I would buy myself one quality item a month - this would stop me from overspending in stores like Forever 21 or H&M and also leave me with pieces in my closet that can be worn again and again for years to come.

So every month, I’ve been sneaking out of the office and using one day’s lunch time to enhance my closet. My location: Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. My targets: J.Crew, occasionally Banana Republic and the heavenly paradise that is Anthropologie.

While J.Crew has been a long time favorite and on the top of my list for many years, Anthropologie has been slowly looking to take its place for quite a while. Putting the luxurious, one-of-a-kind clothing and accessories aside for a second, when I walk into an Anthropologie store, all of my troubles just melt away. It’s as if, I’ve walked into my dream living quarters. The marketing geniuses of anthropologie rummaged through my brain while I slept and intercepted my dreams and then came back and created the inner workings of their stores. I’m convinced that this is what took place.

Part of the reason I probably feel that way, is that Anthropologie is not only selling clothes, its selling a lifestyle. A lifestyle that I am gobbling up like there’s no tomorrow. Established in 1992, Anthropologie has managed to bring in 50 percent of Urban Outfitters, Inc., their parent companie’s revenue, without the use of advertising. And I like that.

It just goes to show you that there is quality in their product. It’s the same with dog food. You can either go buy some Iams from the supermarket, or you can do your research, and find kibble from healthy and organic companies like Innova or California Natural.

I ventured over to Anthropologie on Monday and thought about never leaving. The smell of the candles, the colors of the clothes, the light shining through the second floor on dark brown parquet, the calm atmosphere, the not-so-many people, the way the sales people just leave you alone to shop and breathe, I cannot find one bad thing to say about this store. Except the prices, but those aren’t necessarily bad, they just come with the territory.

I left with Frenchy-looking perfume that smelled delicious and some grey cotton linen pants that fit me so perfectly, you would not believe. As I’m sure any woman knows, shopping for pants and jeans is a full day marathon that is likely to end in disappointment, tears and possibly ice cream. So imagine my excitement as these wonderful pants, that were on sale might I add, fit me as if they belonged to my body. Do you know how amazing it is to go shopping for pants and look at yourself in the mirror, all alone in your dressing room, with clothes scattered everywhere, under the most horribly unflattering lights ever and realize that you actually like how you look? It is a revelation beyond compare. An amazing moment, where all of society’s rules and regulations about body and image are thrown out the window and what remains is an incredible feeling of self-satisfaction. Thank you, Anthropologie. See you soon.

Photo via Anthropologie

This weekend I did a major rehaul of my room. This included getting rid of school papers that I had kept since I was a freshman in high school. Yes, I’m nostalgic like that. I also wanted to get rid of the big hunk of wood in my room, otherwise known as the oversized desk that took up too much space. I spent all of Sunday afternoon with his task at hand and by the time I was finished, I had filled up three garbage bags full of paper, notebooks and old scantrons. I managed to get the desk out of my room on my own, but not without scratching up the opposite side of my door. Oh well. I was left with more space than I had bargained for! Oh space, how I love space. As a journalist, we’re trained to abhor white space. Fill every corner with text or graphics, no matter what the cost, I used to be told in school. But oh, how I love space. It compliments design real well, especially home design.

I was left with a desk half of the size of my previous one and to be honest, I was ok with this. I still am. In fact, I’m glad it’s small, because it’s forced me to get rid of more crap. I also bought myself a new duvet and pillow cover from Ikea.

The redesign of my room is far from complete. I still have to paint the walls, get rid of more unnecessary junk and find a place to store the obscene amount of books and magazines I have. This DIY project is far from over. In addition to the room redecorating, I did some wardrobe restocking as well. I wandered over to Anthropologie, quite possibly my favorite store on my lunch break and picked up a few things.

I’ve never owned a lingerie bag in my life, but it was so dainty and delicate, that I had to get it. Plus it was half off. You get what you can at Anthropologie. I also splurged and got a wool shrug by Moth.

From now on, I’ve decided to shop a different way. I’m going to pricier pieces, that will last me a long time, instead of getting a lot for less. So this was my splurge of the month. Although, let me just say, I could spend my life savings at Anthropologie in one go. I’m not even kidding.

I am a mug collector. Some people collect stamps or pens. Not me. I collect mugs. I think it stems down to the fact that I not only love the various designs on mugs, but they’re something I use in my daily life, unlike stamps that you hide away in a scrapbook. Since tea is so important to me, collecting mugs are just natural. Whenever Keeg and I travel, I can’t resist buying a mug.

The one on the left, if you didn’t already know is a quote from The Smith’s “Reel Around the Fountain,” courtesy of Keeg. The one on the right is a standard Ikea mug I bought for 69 cents on which I drew a matryoshka doll on with ceramic paints. It was my first attempt, so it doesn’t look all that great. You really need a steady hand to be able to draw on mugs with paint.

That’s my Democrat mug from Urban Outfitters. It’s a great size and it’s got people I like on it. The second one was bought at I believe TJ Maxx. If you’re into mugs, Marshall’s and TJ Maxx are great places to find quirky and unique ones. It came with a tea bag holder in the shape of a bee.

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To be beautiful, all a woman needs is a black pullover and a black skirt and to be arm in arm with a man she loves.

It’s a lovely name isn’t it, Yves Saint Laurent. Some names are just destined to be known all over the world. Yves Saint Laurent was one of those people. Yesterday news broke of his passing and for the first time in a really long time, I was affected by the death of someone I personally did not know. I can’t remember the last time I felt so strongly about the passing of someone who was not my own. Maybe Heath Ledger, but most of that was shock. When I heard YSL had died, at the age of 71 from brain cancer, I was truly upset. While I was driving to work this morning, I listened to an NPR report about him and how he revolutionized the fashion world. How he popularized “ready-to-wear” in an attempt to democratize fashion and was the first designer to use black models in his shows and created “Le Smoking” suit, a tuxedo suit for women that created a lot of buzz in the fashion industry. Be became the first living fashion designer to be honored by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1983.

I was reading that after he was put in charge of running Christian Dior, he had to serve in the French Army during the Algerian War of Independence and after 20 days of hazing, he had to be institutionalized in a French mental hospital for a nervous breakdown. This is really upsetting and disturbing.

How could anyone do this to the man that once said “A woman who has not found her style, who does not feel at ease in her clothes, who does not live in harmony with them, is a sick woman.” Truer words have never been spoken. Or that “fashion isn’t just to decorate women, but to reassure them, give them confidence.”

In 2002, Saint-Laurent retired from the world of fashion and became reclusive. I don’t blame him really. From what I’ve read and heard, he was quite a gentle soul.

After his hospital stay, Saint Laurent launched his YSL fashion label with former partner Pierre Bergé. The house was sold to pharmaceutical company Sanofi in 1993 for $600,000,000. Try to just imagine that amount of money. Then in 1999, Gucci bought the brand

It’s Thursday night in Los Angeles. The weather is a bit on the hot side and I’m trying to recover from a very long and stressful week. So, let’s talk about my new found fascination for country music - something I never ever ever thought I would ever grow fond of in my life.

I think it boils down to one of my favorite people in the world: Dolly Parton. I love this woman. She can do no wrong in my eyes, no matter how big her breasts get, or if she teases her blond hair up until they reach the high heavens. She’s fantastic.

I think I’ve listened to “Jolene” and “When I Sing For Him” a million times in the last two weeks. And she was on American Idol as a mentor a couple weeks ago. God I love her.

I’ve also been listening to some of Tim McGraw’s stuff. I can’t believe I just wrote that sentence. It’s like a guilty pleasure or something. I mean, I shouldn’t feel too bad about it, after all, Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash had their roots in Country music, and I loved them while I disliked most of Country music.

And let me just say, I do love me some “Urban Cowboy.” I remember seeing it the first time in my cousin’s cramped room. There must have been about 8 of us at some kind of family gathering or another, trying to escape adult conversation. So we watch Urban Cowboy instead. I must have been no more than 14. I’ve also been to Barona Resort and Casino when I was 18, which is endorsed by Country star Kenny Rogers. It was my first taste in gambling and it didn’t hurt that Kenny Rogers was the face of Barona, I don’t particularly like his music, but his kitschy qualities and squinty eyes were enough to win me over.

Even the guy on the right can’t resist his white bearded charm.

I also do love watching “Reba” starring Reba McEntire. She’s not only hilarious, but I can’t get over her thick accent and the fact that no one else on the show ( except her ex-husband’s wife) has the same southern drawl. God knows how many times I’ve sang along to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” and I totally stood up for the Dixie Chicks when the Bible belt was crucifying them for saying they were ashamed of our President. When will it be 2009? The comments they made should have been enough to get him impeached.

But anyway, I digress. What I’m trying to say is, I guess in some form or another, Country music has always been subliminally a part of my life, whether I like to admit it or not. I’ve always loved snippets of it, but this year I realize I’ve come full circle. So now, If I meet someone who scoffs at mere idea of country music, I can explain that Dolly Parton is perhaps the greatest woman in the world and that I’m sure they totally love the Dixie Chick’s cover of Stevie Nick’s “Landslide.” I’d dare them to listen to “Suspicions” without singing along. It’s impossible. Also, if you listen to it once, you won’t be able to stop. Fair warning. In the end, I am just a city girl with a country heart.

Summer is most definitely here, at least in Los Angeles any way, then again when is it not here? Shoes, in my opinion are the most important part of any outfit. So here, I present my top picks for all the Summer shoes that I want and many that I most probably can’t have.

Smoke Tree Sandals: Anthropologie : $88

Matika Filigree Thong: Urban Outfitters: $98

Jeffrey Campbell ‘Roman Beads’ Sandal: Nordstrom: $70

Ever since I can remember, I have had a fascination with Russian Matryoshka dolls. I first came across them when a relative of my Russian-born grandmother’s brought them when he came to visit from Moscow. At 10 years old, I thought they were the greatest thing since sliced bread. I still have my first Matryoshka set on display in my room.

There’s been a recent trend that’s reintroduced the Matryoshka into mainstream products. They’ve cropped up everywhere, from bed spreads to pillows and even as jewelry. Here are some of my favorite Matryoshka products.

Russian Dolls coin purse Matryoshka purse

Matryoshka bedspread, $32                      The Littlest Matryoshka, $10.33

“Matryoshka” actually derived from the Russian female first name “Matryona”, which is traditionally associated with a fat and robust Russian woman. The first ones date to about 1890 and are said to be have been inspired from Japan.

Folk dessert plate set, $28                                         Nestina doll bank