Fourth of July weekend has officially come to a close. For those of us prone to reflection, this primarily means two things: One, summer has reached its halfway mark. And two, the hottest days are yet to come.
Now, of course, if you stop the chicest girl in the corridor and inquire as to where she found her perky pleats, her fringed fandangos, she fairly shouts out the 29th-floor windows that she got them in the most plebian shop on the high street, or fished them out of a bottom of a thrift shop bin. Even those among us blessed with a fat purse extol the virtues of mastering the mix, popping a Zara blouse over a Chanel dirndl or marrying a Topshop topper to Céline trousers.