Purple Haze

I’m on the verge of putting a bumper sticker on my car that says “slap me: I’m obsessed with purple.”  Purple shoes, purple sweaters, purple leather gloves with cashmere lining.  I’ve got it all.  I love it all!  I recently had to call a friend while I was standing in Lord & Taylor and demand an intervention on a purple pocketbook that was dangling on my arm.  It was begging me to take it home. “No more

purple!!!” Kate demanded.  “But...but...” I stammered, turning this way and that in front of the mirror, cell phone pressed to my ear.

“If you are thinking that this bag will look great with your new purple flats, you are seriously misguided.  That would be a fashion disaster.”  

I sort of heard her through the purple haze in my brain. Then my mom beeped in.  “Hold on, Kate.”  I switched over and immediately started talking.  “Mom, I know I just called you before and didn’t leave a message.  I’m having a purple problem, but Kate’s on it.”


“Just say no!”  I heard her say as I hung up and switched back to an awaiting Kate, thinking that everyone sounded a bit too drug-era Nancy Reagan for me.  Because I was thinking just say yes.


What is it with trends?  How do I fall into every trap every season?  My friend Andie thinks it’s because of the trend reports we receive from magazines and department stores, telling us what’s on this year’s “hot list” and “must haves.”  It’s sad but true.  I read those things and, suddenly, I find myself looking for accessories with studded hardware, or tops with cutouts at the shoulders (which, by the way look incredibly ridiculous on me).  It’s hot!  It’s a must-have, so I must have it…right?


Grey nail polish?  Awesome.  Just walk me to the counter and give them my credit card.  I’m like a fashion lemming.
When I go shopping, I try really hard to drown out the sound of the little voice telling me what’s hot, cool and new.  And I know that, as I get older, most of these trends are not meant for me, at least not in their purest and hippest form.  I’m fine with a watered-down, suburban mom version of leggings, for example.  I have them, but I wear them with ballet flats and a long sweater instead of with heels, a micro-mini skirt, and a tank top that looks like it has been mauled by a rabid cat.  

Just, you know, for example.

By telling you about my recent color addiction, I like to think that I’m in the first steps of recovery.  The picture accompanying this proves that I’m not exaggerating.  Unfortunately.  

What’s next?  I’m thinking rose gold jewelry.  It’s so pretty.  And it looks great with purple.

Columnist and blogger Julie Gerstenblatt is always "on the verge" of something.  She writes with humor and candor about her life in Scarsdale, her friends and family, and the particular demands of motherhood and wifedom in modern-day suburbia.  This week, she's in a "Purple Haze."  Read what she has to say here, and then follow her online at: http://julie-ontheverge.blogspot.com/