Many years ago, I took a trip to Woodbury Commons—the fabled outlet center that's about an hour and a half from NYC—with a beloved but very sartorially conservative friend. There, I found a pair of teetering royal blue stilettos by Marc Jacobs that were marked down to $100. But for whatever reason—perhaps because I had yet to find a post-college job—my friend convinced me they were too crazy to buy. She's a lawyer and quite persuasive, and so I let some other, clearly very sensible shopper pull them from my hands. Two weeks later, after my second day at Lucky, I was standing outside of the Condé Nast Building, when I saw my favorite Vogue editor exit the building in the very same Marc Jacobs stilettos. I still think about them, probably at least once a month. They were a little bit like this Charles by Charles David pair. Someday, I'll find them—and someday I'll fully forgive my friend. Is there anything that you ever failed to buy that you still pine for?

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I stand firm against hand creams. Ew. Who wants to type/eat/tuck hair behind an ear after smearing grease all over their fingers? That said, I cannot tell you how many people have come past my desk demanding hand cream ... and I'm willing to concede that maybe I'm anti because my hands just don't get that dry in the first place. Anyway: I want to know what you guys use. Here are the parameters:

1. No noxious odor. It cannot smell like melons, gardenias, cucumbers, or "cherry blossoms"—which, PS, barely smell at all in real life.

2. No stickiness IN ANY WAY. I will give a hand cream a 60-second grace period to become unsticky—after that, I rinse it off.

3. Drugstore prices.

... and I actually have a lead already from a famously picky friend: the Neutrogena Norwegian Hand Cream. Has anyone tried it? Thoughts? Other favorites?

—Cristina Mueller, senior beauty editor

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Earlier this week, Devon C. asked, "I have a conference coming up where the dress is strictly business attire. I'm a college student and I just can't make myself buy another button-down shirt with a traditional collar. Any advice on alternatives?"

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After years working on the print side of magazines, my main job these days is that of a Web writer, or, if you prefer, "blogger." It's a position I'm completely crazy about—I love how creative, immediate, and interactive it is, and I'm the type of person who reads every comment on any story I ever write. Sometimes this experience is horrible (there are more "U Suk"'s than you can imagine). But sometimes, reading comments is the best part of my day. For example, yesterday I wrote a post about having new red hair and, among the comments, an older woman named Betty shared that her hair was now white, but years ago she'd enjoyed being experimental. Then she said, "Have fun with being young." The sweetness of this comment really struck me. It made me think, "Wait, I am young! I should be having fun!" Then I remembered how there are a million things I want to do in my life: risks I don't take—style and otherwise—that I totally should before I'm what some might consider old (I don't even know what that is anymore). For example, I've always wanted to wear really severe, sculptural, high-end pieces by Belgian designers. The kinds of clothes one could wear with really dark lipstick and it wouldn't be weird (am I about to enter my goth phase at 35? Let's hope not.) Today I found this outstanding coat

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What I want more than anything is a small cottage-esque country house in upstate New York that has enough land to keep a horse, or two. In said country house I would have a whole wardrobe of Barbour jackets and riding boots (even though I grew up doing endurance rides—I'm from Montana, remember—and not dressage and have never worn riding boots while on a horse), and chic-yet-cozy striped sweaters and wide-legged jeans. I think I would take a cue from our executive editor, Meredith Rollins, who has become, she says, "weirdly enamored with Boden." I don't think this love is weird at all, since they have awesome, nautical-themed tops and preppy little shoes. And yes, I said country house, not beach house, but whatever, right? So chic! Do you guys have any style fixations?

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A shower feels good. A person looks and feels infinitely better after taking a shower. My shower features new and delightful products I might not normally take a chance (a.k.a. spend) on; it is in fact chock-a-block with such items. My shower is the Disney World, the Fantasia, the acid trip of scrubs and conditioners and washes and shampoos and oils. A delight to the senses, most would agree.

And yet. If I don't have to go to work (say, there's a Martin Luther King, Jr. Day included in the weekend), getting myself to take a shower is next to impossible. "Damn," I think, "the people coming over are going to be kind of shocked at how grungy I am."

"I really look worse than usual, don't I?" I note when I chance by a mirror. Never mind the Library of Congress' worth of books advising women to doll themselves up for their husbands.

No, only if I am getting paid can I bring myself to make the effort. Is there a DSM-V designation for this particular pathology? A non-drug-related cure?

If I were a celeb I could mention how eco I was, not taking so many showers: "I really try to keep it to a minimum, you know, for the planet." But in real life, it's just not going to wash, is it?

—Jean Godfrey-June, beauty editor

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I recently dyed my hair red (you can see pictures here), and man, it's a BIG change. It's the kind of transformation that makes you reexamine everything in your closet and often say, "Uh-oh, not anymore, yuck." Truthfully, I haven't quite figured out what looks good with this hair yet (does anybody know?), but in the meantime, I've been wearing lots of black. Which leads me to the point of this post: I want to find the perfect black heels. I want a pair that's

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I've been very much in a stay-at-home mood lately. It's lame, but most evenings it's all I can do to muster up the motivation to drag myself away from my newly acquired DVR (I know I'm embarrassingly late on this one—especially for someone who's been covering the electronics market for who-knows-how-many years—and that saying the following is really cliché, but it really has completely transformed the way I watch TV!). My shopping desires have adjusted accordingly, with my recent cravings for new bed linens and pretty but comfy pieces I can lounge around in around my apartment. This tissue-thin chemise, cut from pima cotton, looks blissfully soft and drapey. It's made by Skin, a company I'm already loyal to because of the truly excellent robe I have from them—and like said robe, it seems the type of thing that's incredibly comfortable and feminine and flattering. It's also massively reduced in price, from $132 to $39, and though it's shown here in black, it's actually being offered in white and blush.

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Awesome high-heel sandals for under $30.

Definitely going to check out the Pantone/Gap pop-up shop on Fifth Avenue this weekend.

A Valentine's Day round-up of pretty rings (though that's an easy way to send the wrong idea, right?)—prices start at $100.

Mad Men costume designer might create his own clothing line, which would be great for those of us who love a '50s silhouette.

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My new beauty icon is Gucci creative director Frida Giannini, who is so wildly glamorous it's unreal. I met her, unsurprisingly, at the launch of the new Gucci perfume ("met" here means another quick, Dolce-or-Gabbana-like handshake). She could easily star in her own campaign: not only is she very tall, she's my favorite kind of hot: all tousled hair and loads of black eyeliner, wearing a slinky-hot minidress to end all slinky-hot minidresses and the highest heels I've ever seen. (The photo here is from a different party, but you get the idea.)

Frida spoke in sexily almost-indecipherable English about her new fragrance, Flora, which is gorgeous (they gave us scented ribbons to tie around our wrists; I sniffed compulsively for two days) and launches this spring—at which time it will be described by me in detail. In the meantime, I keep the ribbon on my desk to occasionally sniff longingly.

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

Photo by Venturelli/WireImage

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