Kelly Willis!

Thank you to everybody who entered, and check back soon for more giveaways. I have a few handy gadgets and gizmos in the works!

If I had more money (damn you, IRS and Citibank!), at least a quarter of my wardrobe would be Ted Baker – I love them! If you’re in Beverly Hills/WeHo tonight, stop by the Ted Baker store at 131 N. Robertson Boulevard from 6-9pm. My friend Sydne Summer of Sydne Style is hosting a cocktail party, and there will be a 20% discount to shop the new summer collection. Don’t forget to RSVP to event@tedbaker.com.

Sure, sure, free champagne is all well and good, but one guest who attends will get a $500 VIP shopping spree! So, go!

Here’s how to enter to win:

1. Go to www.tedbaker-london.com and pick out your fave item.
2. Tweet “I want to win $500 from @ted_bakerusa & @sydnesummer to buy [enter fave item here].”
3. Leave your Twitter handle in the comments section on Sydne’s website.

The winner will be announced at the event tonight. To win, you must be following @ted_bakerusa and @sydnesummer on Twitter. Good luck and I’ll see you there!

Here's a sneak preview of what we can expect from Brad Pitt with Chanel No. 5. YES, PLEASE.

Brad Pitt is the new face of Chanel No. 5, it was announced today. (Yes! The perfume!)

I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand…mmm…Brad Pitt.

On the other hand…eeewww…Chanel No. 5.

Chanel No. 5 was Coco Chanel’s first fragrance, created in 1921 as a revolutionary perfume designed to appeal to the modern, category-busting flappers of the day. Most scents were either single-note florals (very Edwardian) or hedonistic musks that whispered promises of “ladies of the night” and opium dens. Chanel No. 5 was neither: a modern synthetic heavily featuring chemical aldehydes. In short, a perfume for the Bachelor Girls and Garçonnes that were changing the world (and who we women today owe a grand debt to.)

So, no doubt, Chanel No. 5 is an iconic, important, earth-shattering perfume.

But still. In my opinion, iconic, important, earth-shattering Chanel No. 5 is also the worst kind of grandma perfume.

I mean, have you actually smelled this stuff? It’s gross! Yes, yes, to be fair, perfume is a highly personal thing, so my Thierry Mugler Alien Liqueur de Parfum is another woman’s French garbage can.

Normally, I stay silent about beauty products I dislike…particularly in the case of smaller brands. I never want to have a hand in some plucky mom-’n-pop start-up losing their life-savings. In the case of Chanel, however, with one bottle of Chanel No. 5 sold every 30 seconds–making it the world’s most popular perfume–I think they’ll do just fine.

Because one can never have enough Brad Pitt, here he is at the 2012 Oscars. Angelina Jolie's right leg was busy consulting with its publicist.

In any case, it’s only this perfume that I dislike from Chanel: I’m besotted by both Chanel Chance and Chanel Coco Mademoiselle, which is one of my all-time top perfumes and could not be more different from Chanel No. 5.

Chandler Burr famously called Chanel Coco Mademoiselle “lovely, flowery, a fresh-faced seventeen-year-old in a summer dress.”

Meanwhile, Coco Chanel said of No. 5: “A perfume like nothing else. A woman’s perfume, with the scent of a woman.”

So there you have it. Apparently I want to smell like a 17 year old.

There’s no denying, however, that Chanel No. 5’s ads are epic. This oldie but goodie with Estella Warren remains my favorite. It always makes me think of Christmas:

Nina Dobrev at the Met Costume Institute Gala - classic, elegant, stunning. One of my favorite looks of the night

During my post-college New York City years, I lived on 81st and Lex. I’m so much more an uptown girl than a downtown one, and my little corner of the city felt like the perfect location: safe, gorgeous, clean, close to Central Park, within 4 blocks of both an express train and a local train, crawling distance from some of the city’s best bars and restaurants–that’s not saying much in a city stocked with great bars and restaurants!–and, of course, only 3 blocks away from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

(Oh, random side note: I watched the “I Heart NY” episode of Sex and the City yesterday, with its 4th-season-finale 9/11 coda, and it made me CRY! What a beautiful love letter to the city.)

But back to the Met. I used to walk over there on the weekend, flash my student ID for free-entry (I know, I know…but I was on a minuscule Conde Nast assistant salary!) and wander its corridors, usually finding myself in the Impressionists wing or “Royal Furniture and Stately Rooms” section.

Danes! Well done - I LOVE the 60s French hair and makeup.

One night, I was taking a cab cross-town from the Upper West Side when, as we exited the park onto 5th Avenue, a cacophony of lights exploded to my right. I looked and realized it was the Costume Institute Met Gala, a yearly celebration of the history of fashion sponsored by Vogue which was nowhere near as uber-famous as it is now. (I’m telling you, social media…!) I hopped out of the cab, spent 20 minutes watching the arrivals, and then walked the five minutes home, hugging myself at my good fortune to be living in what felt like the center of the universe.

Everybody thinks their time with a person, place or thing is the most special, but I’m particularly stubborn on that point regarding my own New York years. I lived there from 1998 through 2006, just after Giuliani cleaned it up, but while there was still grime and crime on the Lower East Side, before the Meatpacking District became EuroDisney and while Brooklyn was so far away it might as well have been Boston. Then came the 9/11 years, and everybody was a New Yorker: no city was more beloved, no place was more mythic. The city felt like I imagine Paris in the 1920s to have been: it sparkled and dazzled with promise, gold dust, money, and affection. Of course, with that affection came more money, and more scrubbing, and more transplants, and more Americana. I left a couple years before the economy crashed, not long after they opened a Red Lobster in Times Square. For me, that was the beginning of the end.

Emma Stone wears Lanvin - adorable, no?

Now when I go back to the city for work, it feels different. I’m older, obviously, and the nature of cities–especially a city like New York–is change. I’m reminded of a line in You’ve Got Mail, of all movies, when Meg Ryan’s character says,

“People are always saying that change is a good thing. But all they’re really saying is that something you didn’t want to happen at all has happened. My store is closing this week. I own a store, did I ever tell you that? It’s a lovely store, and in a week it’ll be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon, it’ll be just a memory. In fact, someone–some foolish person–will probably think it’s a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it or something. I know because that’s the sort of thing I’m always saying. But the truth is, I’m heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died.”

Each year when the Met Gala rolls around, for some reason it’s one of those moments that pulls me back in and makes me remember, with both affection and pain, how much I miss “my” old New York. I’m happily ensconced here in LA, maybe forever, and trips back a few times a year are enough to satiate me.

Kate Bosworth in Prada, looking incredibly severe, and yet still beautiful. She's wearing NARS Volga Pure Matte Lipstick.

Still…with apologies to Ryan Adams, I’ll always love you though, New York.

Here, a few more of the Met Ball Costume Institute Gala looks that wet my whistle:

Gwyneth Paltrow goes for the pulled-back bun again, with super glowing skin

And here's a full-length shot of Gwyneth's Prada dress

Kirsten's makeup was by NARS and her outfit is Rodarte

Carey Mulligan's makeup is a master-class in the perfect smokey eye

I accidentally uploaded this photo to Instagram with a weird filter using Camera Awesome, which is why it's all grainy. Anyhow: hooray for good hair!

On the whole, I’m pretty jaded about beauty (I mean, how often can you write about a new lip gloss and make it feel fresh, amiright?), but every once in a while something happens to shock some life into me. I live for those beauty moments.

I had just such an experience a few days ago, when I went to the Paul Jean salon in Beverly Hills. Paul Jean Jouve is a stylist from France who’s appeared on TV shows like Shear Genius, but I mostly know him as the stylist behind the best hair cut I’d previously received in LA, a few years ago.

Post-haircut at Paul Jean salon

You’d think, if I’d already had such a great cut from somebody, that I’d stick with them. You’d be wrong. We beauty writers are a fickle lot, jumping from stylist to stylist and colorist to colorist, sampling all the wares in town. It had been so long since I’d seen Paul Jean, in fact (4+ years) that I’d all but forgotten just how obsessed I was with my previous haircut. (The last time Paul Jean cut my hair was also the day I met an ex-boyfriend—so that was a very lucky style, indeed.)

Anyhow, fast-forward four years, and there I am a few days ago visiting Paul Jean’s brand new salon, further up the block on Robertson. It’s a gorgeous, intimate space with only two incredibly warm assistants and a garden out back, where Paul Jean cuts hair practically outside. (In fact, for one guest that day—a little English boy there with his parents for his very first haircut—Paul Jean did indeed cut his hair in the garden while I was being blow-dried. So glamorous!)

The initial inspiration for my haircut, which we veered away from a bit - I might get up the nerve next time I see Paul Jean!

Paul Jean did that all-too-rare stylist thing I love, which is to sit me down and have a relaxed, lengthy chat about my lifestyle, the state of my hair and my expectations, all while showing me examples from his iPad of what would and would not work for me, in his opinion. We settled on a Catherine Deneuve-in-Belle de Jour vibe, with hints of Brigitte Bardot. (Paul Jean initially wanted to go the full Bardot, with more bangs, but also cautioned me to give him feedback as he worked, so I ended up stopping him before we got to the fringe.)

The end result? Voila.

The hair a few days later (post highlights with Kaz Amor at Warren-Tricomi, too!) at my Bath and Body Works event/book signing

I now have about 75 photos in my brand new iPhone of my hair. Narcissism! :Jazz hands:

PS: Apparently, I am not the only one who thinks Paul Jean totally rocks. I just checked out his Yelp reviews, and every single one is 5 stars. (They appear to be real reviews, rather than plants.) My own cut with Paul Jean was comped (I am not going to lie; being a beauty blogger is awesome!) but, as always, my opinions are not for sale.

Paul Jean Salon is at 458 N. Robertson Boulevard in Beverly Hills. Call 310-278-5607 for an appointment.