Simple Sexy. Stark Sexy. Smart Sexy.

Florida girls love to show skin. We go ga-ga over low-cut tops and halter tops and short dresses and Brazilian bikinis and camis and short shorts with platforms and plunging backless dresses that require specially-made bras. We wouldn't be caught dead in a button-up cotton shirt at night, in public. We probably would never wear sweater vests, unless our belly buttons were showing and we definitely are not interested in your plaid jumper, Ms. Connecticut, thank you very much - unless Mr. McQueen is designing it.

Bebe is practically the official state chain retailer. Even in the dead of winter (54 degrees) girls will forgo warmth in favor of hotness.

And Florida guys are not excluded from check-me-out flashiness. If the girls are all about short n' stretchy synthetics, then the dudes are equally addicted to painfully blinged-out (and overplayed) Ed Hardy-esque wear, too-tight shirts, 70s era chest exposure and slicked and spiked hair.

Not that showing off a hot bod is a bad thing - but there is something to be said for restrained sexiness. Funky sexiness without cleavage or a brand splattered across your chest. Interesting sexiness that hints at some mystery; some dark, exciting past; stories that will make people talk. The kind of sexiness that Prince was singing about in "Kiss."

Check out these on-the-street fashion finds and let me know if you feel me...or if it just leaves you cold.

September 2008, Tampa, Hyde Park:



Get her cute and quirky look:



Florida dude on van:



How to swipe his style:



Super Cute Scenester Lass With Awesome Hair & Legs in Ybor City:



Try This Elegantly Hip Style:



Structured, confident Florida bombshell:



Create your own suited and booted (and not-completely-stoic) look:

Who Let Fashion Loose???

Less is more. But more is fantastic.



This everything-goes, screw-the-rules era of fashion-ness is more than my free-wheeling Aquarius heart can take. And Florida is a friggin’ hotbed of fashion anarchy.



I absolutely adore all the piling on of the accessories, mismatched and mottled prints, Anthropologie-esque girliness mixed with sex-kitten sass, the gypsy-queen-meets-tennis-coach look, the homemade knits and scarves and bangles and costume jewelry and fringe and no-apologies tattoos and patent belts and knee-high socks and fedoras and vests and fingerless gloves and whatever the eff you want to wear! Except for white patent shoes. Please. Stop. No. Okay – only if you absolutely must.



I really, really love it.



And – I must say – even though the much-ballyhooed series Mad Men is informing some of the fashion this season, it’s going to be an uphill battle to turn back our creative little no-rules sensibilities and inspire people to spend hours contemplating a total look. The perfect ring. A sweet, uncomplicated silhouette. Smart bobs and pressed button-downs. We’ll have to see how much real estate those late-50s fashion cats can claim from the messy and mixed-up world of today’s delightfully scizho style. Until then, let’s enjoy the show from the Sunshine State.

Resorting to What We Do Best. Lounge, babies, lounge.

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“There is more color in Los Angeles, more resort in Florida, but Milan is a fast-paced city.”

– Michael Kors, on opening a store in Milan.

When I think of fashion categories, I think: summer, mid-summer, not-as-summer and freezing (because anything below 72 degrees is freezing in Florida).

And maybe I’ll break it down to office wear. Maybe. But not really – mostly because there’s no dress code at my office and I’m only inspired about three or four times per month to put more effort than necessary into my workdrobe. Jeans are my lovely crutch.

I’ll tell you what I definitely don’t think of when I think of my wardrobe: Resort Wear.

Who even refers to resorts as resorts? Is this for the Sandals crowd?

And – for the record – resort wear kind of resembles Malibu Barbie meets regular clothes.

The one thing that Resort Wear can offer Floridian fashionplates is its name. This is the stuff we wear all the friggin’ time. Sandals with conch shells. Flowy, strapless dresses. Bright t-shirts. Corals and florals and minis and tight, stretchy things.

With RESORT WEAR, we have something to call it – something people in NY can understand, something our friends will make fun of us for, something we can curl up with at night when we consider what will best show off our Florida tan, perfectly streaked tresses and newly bleached grill. Our “resort wear” outfit.

I already feel more fashionable as I contemplate tomorrow's outfit: open-toed wedges, tank top and J. Lo sunhat, i.e. my mid-September “resort wear.”

Who is the Ultimate Florida Fashionista?

Every Florida native is intimately familiar with the somewhat warranted Florida fashion cliche: tanned, peroxided, frosted-lipstick wearing, wrinkled beach (dumb) babes and their guys, who are - of course - pasty, flabby, tacky, Hawaiian-shirted dudes who drive ugly convertibles.

Sure, spend any amount of time on the West Coast (Clearwater Beach = Linda Hogan-lookalikes aplenty) and you will definitely see your fair share of Lycra, leopard print and pleather, but I assure you, this is a small sampling of the wide range of gaudiness and (yes) truly inspired fashion senisibilities Florida has to offer. Florida actually has a pretty cool style if you can get past the flip-flop formal wear and near-obsession with fake double-d cups.

Floridians - like their northern counterparts in NYC - are not afraid to get funky, look silly or be dramatic. After all, Tampa is the Goth Capital of the continental U.S.

And unlike SoCal, we're more than just our bronzed and buffed abs. We're pretty freakin' freaky. We have all kinds of cultures informing our style - so don't be surprised if you see a Pink Polo (popped collar and all) paired with shorts that bear the Dominican flag. Or if you spy a sluccer mom (slutty soccer mom - low-cut tank top paired with Old Navy jeans); a notsosexual (wannabe metrosexual who thinks Prada shades and Crocs are designer); Bumionairre (bum exterior, but owns "Hooters" restaurants, motels and a tractor rental company so is worth billions).

We're like fashion centaurs. We Floridians don't really care if our top halves and bottom halves match - as long as we look hot and manage to stay cool. We are essentially living in a big swamp, so we figure the rest of the world should be impressed that we have clothes on at all.

So all this leads to the question du jour: Who is the ultimate Florida fashionista?

Is it the Tampa goth/punk/dirt rocker? The Miami model/Latin lover/bronzed beauty? The Palm Beach debutante? The Gaineseville hippie/hipster? The Key West beach bum/sandal slut? The St. Augustine surfer/surferette?

Stay tuned...we're going to hit the streets to find an answer!