Kilos of leather

Graffiti: Buenos Aires, Argentina

Argentinean leather treasures: Ecel Shop

It’s true that Argentinean leather is silky smooth and too good to pass up on when visiting Argentina. If you want the leather goods, but the plane ticket is getting in the way don’t hesitate to order from Ecel’s online shop. Their philosophy is sweet and simple, and is ideal for the traveler (leather passport covers), and perfect for anyone who loves to complement their days with soft leather (even in the shade watermelon). I’m eyeing the canvas/leather bag pack. Just waiting for them to launch their store front in two weeks to make my commitment official!


Piso Veinte

What better way to spend a Sunday evening than with friends eating platters of cheese, and devouring bowls of pasta accompanied with delicious bottles of Argentine malbec. The view from my friend’s apartment was more than aesthetic. It was a reminder as to where I live, or shall I say, in what I live in. This massive city dense with activity and structures swallows up what your eyes can encompass. Looking into the city from up above made a calm sensation take over the anxiety produced by the traffic and the noise down below. How lucky we are to get to see the chaos mapped out in a grid of golden lines and shadowed walls. Buenos Aires is massive, but wonderful. So was dessert on the balcony, and our conversation filled with planning dates, and the plane ticket purchases in our futures to meet up at all the music and film festivals this coming new year. But first, October is a beautiful month to fill up.



Conjuring Tigre

I would not have woken up at 7:00a.m. for no other reason than to taxi to meet my three friends to catch a morning train headed to a magical place called Tigre. Locals of Buenos Aires refer to it as a paradise an hour away from the city. Paradise began on a rugged train with my three girlfriends: Arie, Ana, and Jesi. We huddled around each other and partook in sharing the traditional maté and cookies while laughing at each other’s exhausted faces. We continued our route via water taxi once in Tigre. What we were headed to was a river bed and breakfast with a magical essence. The woman who greeted us at the pier to our earthy bed and breakfast, Teresa, could not have been more perfect. Not only did she tend to our weekend long sleepover by making us special teas, and generously refilling our wine glasses, but she also read our tarot cards, and arranged for me to have a hot oil/rock massage. Our walk down the river was an adventure accompanied by a river kitten, which I have the theory was a witch who turned 100 years and then turned into a feline. You have to meet this kitten to understand. Crossing creek bridges, hills of grass, walking narrow brick paths shaded by the willowing branches of the river bed trees we began our group soul searching therapy. A fire place kept us warm during our conversations inside, and electric heated blankets when we turned in at night. The meals that Teresa prepared us were rich with earthly magic; that woman does not play around. Our weekend could have been more perfect, unlike what most people say to summarize a getaway to paradise. That is, if the plumbing would have worked well enough for us to have taken showers. I was already greasy with humidity from the city and lucidly day dreamed of showering upon arriving at Teresa’s house. My hot oil massage inevitably was an hour’s worth of marinating my body in excess oils that I (at the moment didn’t know) would not get to shower away until two days after returning back to Buenos Aires. My water heater at my house broke for two days upon arriving. I lived in my bath robe, and refused human interaction until it was fixed. I lasted a five day dirty hair challenge against my will. Despite the absence of showering in Tigre, I wouldn’t mind conjuring up another visit when the jasmine vines start to bloom. Won’t neglect to pack my dry shampoo this time.


This drips Donald

Lost in Shadows–Restricted in binding and constricting garments, Fusion model Joseph Culp appears before the lens of Christopher Hench for the new edition in Fiasco. Featured in a monochromatic wardrobe accented by accessories, Joseph is styled by Donald Hicks in labels from the likes of Louis Vuitton, Calvin Klein and 3.1 Phillip Lim.

Stylist Donald Hicks is a fabulous old friend who now resides in New York City where he is flourishing in the fashion scene with his fierce styling skills. I remember the day when he packed up his black leather, metal chain garments, and all his fierceness into his designer luggage and left Austin, TX for the city he was meant for. I’m so proud of Donald, and I do miss his fashion mood swings where he would take off his perfectly styled outfit and put on a tight, red, mid-drif cut t-shirt that had, “Santa’s Bitch,” printed on the front and metallic booty shorts. He looked amazing in them, perhaps because he has a body of a professional dancer. Alright, he was a professional dancer who formerly danced for Ballet Austin among a few ballet companies, and it was obvious when he wore that naughty number. I miss having Donald physically in my life, and I would love to have him here with me in Buenos Aires, but I’m happy to see him popping up in NYC fashion editorials I browse through. Donald Hicks – Fierce.

Venti para Chally

black tank: Cheap Monday,   sweater: James Perse

pants: American Apparel,   boots: Salvatore Ferragamo

shawl: vintage from a Texan grandma,   leather bag pack: Frye

My go to coffee spot has changed for the last time. I used to sit at a few other cafes and eye the beautiful pastries on display, and order round after round of cafe con leches or cafe dobles. But now, I found a spot that I never thought I would frequent. It’s not for their quality, but for their quantity. I get so much coffee for the amount of Argentine pesos I pay. What is my go to coffee spot? It’s Starbucks, I know, I’m from Austin, TX where homegrown coffee shops grow faster than our grass. Places like Caffe Medici and Houndstooth used to be my go to places, but now that I’m in the land of small servings of coffee, Starbucks is the only place that recognizes my north American needs. I order a Venti cafe americano, which explains my dehydration, and I add a small amount of steamed milk to it. A coffee half the size of my arm for 14 Argentine pesos has changed my life. What’s funny is how many times I go to the same Starbucks in my neighborhood, Palermo Soho, and I order from the same cashiers, but they never get my name right. I even emphasize the “r” in my name by putting the latin style on the pronunciation and sounding it out as, “Charrrrrrrlie.” Then I made a second attempt by making a cultural reference that they could relate to and tied my name to the name of a living rock star legend in Argentina, Charlie Garcia, who is a crazy drug addict and quite the performer. They give me faces of confusion more so as to why I’m named after a drug addicted rock star and not as to why there is a girl in front of them with an english boy’s name. I’ve given up, and I’m fine with the name written on my Venti cup being, “CHALLY.” As long as the waterfalls are actually coffee, I’m fine with being Chally. Thank you Starbucks for satisfying my northern American needs. Hugs and kisses, Chally.

Plume and ink

hooded dress: Alexander Wang

amethyst necklace: Damselfly

bracelet: vintage Mexican Taxco silver

model: Arie Saint

photographer/stylist: Savage Souls

The best thing about this Alexander Wang dress is the sheer split back that is joined by a silk hood/scarf that makes for the easiest way to get some shade when a parasol isn’t nearby. Throw on a jacket and it’s an unplanned accessory. There is no wrong time to wear this dress. Ohhh Alexander, you make us ladies so happy.