Though I'd been in denial for the last couple of weeks, I went to put on tights for the first time a few days ago and it hit home that it's really fall. I'm doing my best to try and embrace it, and I got to thinking that this is the year I'm finally going to pony up for wool stockings. I just placed an order for two pairs by Hansel From Basel (who also makes some really great over-the-knee socks—layering them under jeans is one of my favorite stay-warm tricks): one in charcoal and another in black. They're ribbed, which adds a nice bit of texture and will be a welcome break on days when I'm sick of my usual plain dark opaques. And at $36 apiece, they're about half the price of all the other identical-looking versions I've seen by ritzy European labels.

Even though I've never wanted to shell out $500 for a bag, for the past couple of years I have been completely obsessed with Foley + Corinna's City Tote. It's gotten to the point that when I see someone who has it, I say passive-aggressive things like "Oh, you have *that* bag. I know *that* bag." I love everything about it—the soft leather, the slouchy shape, the pockets, the convertibleness—and this season, in order to stop torturing myself and others, I'm going to buy one for myself. On eBay. (Why didn't I think of this before?) Now I just have to figure out the color: Should I go for one in soft gray? Goes-with-everything black? A warm amber brown?

I have no idea what compelled me to fish around on Delia's website just now, but it turns out they have some stuff that's totally applicable even for those of us who left behind their teenage years a long, long time ago. My favorite pieces are the ones that have a sort of bookish, preppy vibe, including this cozy shrunken sailor sweater ($59.50).

The thing that has been most interesting to me while planning this mini-wedding has been finding out the preconceived notions my boyfriend and I have about how something like this is supposed to go down. My soon-to-be husband has been surprisingly traditional about some elements. For example: As much as I'm dying to show him, he doesn't want to see my wedding dress for fear of the bad luck curse. Then last night he asked me: "So what are you doing about the old, new, borrowed, blue thing?" "Hmmm. I don't know. The shoes are new, I thought maybe I'd get some kind of glamorous blue clutch or maybe I'll carry a really pretty vintage blue hankie. And maybe I'll borrow a piece of jewelry from a friend." "What about the old? Will that be underwear?" "NO." This whole thing is insane.

"Why do we have so much shower gel?" my husband asked this morning, sticking his head out of the shower. "What do you use it for?" Amazingly—there have been at least five bottles of shower gel going on in our bathroom at any given moment for over a decade—this question never crossed his mind before. "Do you use it instead of soap, or with soap?" he asks. "Is it like moisturizer?"

—Jennifer Scruby, contributing writer, Miami

I have no good reason to carry a lighter around in my purse. But man, when I see something as cool and elegant as this fire stick, I have to have it. It looks like one of those fancy mints that are half-coated in chocolate, or an adult-like take on a Lego. I almost want to buy a handful and use them to create a mini sculpture installation in my apartment.

My feeling is no. I am an enthusiastic user—and I should be even more so, as I refuse all other oil-control technologies such as mattifying lotions, face powder, etc. This is because I find a matte face to look (a) aged and (b) overly made up. As long as it isn't causing breakouts (thanks to Tazorac), excess oil says "dewy" to me.

Except that when you look at pictures of celebs or socialites or otherwise prominent aging operatives, their faces are shiny, not dewy. Whether this is the result of plastic surgery/peels or it is the same "oiliness is godliness" philosophy that I practice, I do not know.

So I worry, and when I really worry, I re-embrace blotting papers. Which float, annoyingly and grimily, all over my makeup bag, eventually irking me so much that I get rid of them. I would look better if I could find a blotting paper that was clearly superior—easy to tear off from the bunch, yet not prone to dispensing themselves all over one's bag. And super-satisfyingly absorbent, of course. I should know of such an item, but I don't—perhaps because it doesn't yet exist?

—Jean Godfrey-June, beauty director

Our senior online editor Ami Pak just turned me on to my favorite new shopping destination. It's based out of Asia, and stocks various labels from countries like South Korea and Hong Kong that have charmingly eccentric names (Vackystyle, Ifrony, Scopy...). There are pages and pages of spot-on takes on Western trends (if you can move past the complicated sizing)—and nothing costs more than $100.

One of my favorite experiences on eBay is when I see pieces from expensive, insider-y lines that are deeply discounted because the brand is not very well known. This is the case with Lutz & Patmos, a New York-based company that turns out plush, gorgeous knitwear that usually costs about a zillion dollars. Normally, for new items like this cashmere dress,

I have a growing obsession with the shoe brand F-Troupe. I've seen lots of different styles, and everything I've encountered is wear-them-every-day simple but with a downtown twist. What's especially great is that the prices seem refreshingly fair. The most recent crop that's tempting me includes these modified motorcycle boots ($233), cut from a mix of leather and washed canvas. And these $188 round-toe almost-flats (there's a little wedge concealed under that gorgeous peacock blue suede) would be perfect for getting a boost in height without sacrificing comfort.