Feel that vague, niggling sense of panic yet? I’m guessing it’s related to those yet-to-be-bought presents—and, trust me, you’re not alone. This time of year is a fuzzy, fast-paced frolic of a month when everyone is behind on one thing or another. Work mornings rush into cocktail nights, and the days until Christmas almost seem to evaporate.

After all, they don’t call it “Decemblur” for nothing.

But between final deadlines, party prepping, and those must-attend affairs every other day, a girl’s got to hustle when it comes to her gift-shopping. Eventually (somehow, some way), we all find the time—and that’s half the battle won already. But straight away you’re thrust into your next predicament: the arduous task of choosing what to get for all your people. For the men, it’s pretty much straightforward—gadgets (or anything gadget-related), comics (or anything comic), dress shoes and dressy shirts. But for the women—oh, my!—what a challenge.

At least, that’s what it seems like when you don’t have a game plan.

In just two short weeks, the always stylish, ever scandalous Gossip Girl is coming to a close. Does anybody else feel like their youth is now officially over?

I kid, I kid. It’s been six long seasons, after all—and the last two have seemed the absolute longest for me. All these winding plot points, meddlesome new love interests, and the fact that the show seems bent on keeping Chuck and Blair apart against reason have caused a wane in my once-avid interest. Truth be told, I’m hardly caught up on what’s going on in season six, save for the bare bones. (B is trying to win C back, once and for all, before GG pulls the plug—am I right?)

But while I may not keep close tabs on the plot, I still have my eye on Queen B, who will always and forever be my favorite character. She plots and plans while dressed to the nines, pulls off sexy and confident without showing too much boob (sorry Serena!), and has one of the best vocabularies (and taste in lipstick) on TV. There’s also the fact that I have a girl-crush on Leighton Meester—love her—but that’s beside the point.

In this 10-episode wrap-up, Blair (and everybody else) is looking chicer than ever, and I suppose that’s part of the hook for this last hurrah. The show’s stylists have slid her into adorable dresses and skirts, luxurious tops, eye-catching heels—and yes, those headbands are back with a vengeance. No bows here, though—the queen’s new hair bling is grown-up and glam.

Holy countdown—Christmas is almost here!

As in every year before, December is about to creep in like a deceptive mist, and now all of us procrastinators who thought we still had time to shop and plan have hardly enough time left at all. Hope you’re ready for the madness—because I’m betting today is the starting point of your Christmas party marathon.

Tell me—have you got all your outfits lined up in a row? Here’s a confession: I don’t. Not one!

Every season, as we brace ourselves for a glut of party-going, reuniting, and all-around merrymaking, we fashion-lovers find ourselves in what I call a “dressing deficit.” In other words, we peer into our wardrobes, rifle through every piece of clothing that lines it, and find we have absolutely nothing to wear (at least, that we want to). Then we go into panic mode.

Only a few unruffled girls can stare a series of nonstop shindigs in the face and shrug it off like it’s no biggie. You can pinpoint who they are at any event, because they seem to be dressed the simplest and yet appear to be the chicest. I imagine their thought process goes something like this: LBD, check. Pumps, check. Lipstick, check. Clutch, check. Done, done, and done. It makes a lot of sense, any which way you look at it. If I could streamline every fashion problem so that it could be solved by this four-piece formula, I’d be a much less frazzled woman.

Every year, the day after Thanksgiving, the US observes Black Friday—also known as the busiest shopping day in America. Here in the Philippines, that would probably be the day before Christmas, so we still have a month to go before the mayhem. I think it pays to make your list and check it twice way before the eleventh hour, don’t you? So let me just put this out there: I need a new jacket!

Lately, I’ve been captivated by Emmanuelle Alt, the editor-in-chief of French Vogue who has always done the opposite of what most fashion editors are known for—she wears the same thing over and over and over again! I call it her “uniform,” and it’s chic and straightforward: T-shirt, cigarette pants, high heels, barely-there makeup, and a rotating collection of timeless blazers which I am dying to have for myself.

As you may have already guessed, the jackets are my favorite part of her outfits. She favors them in the mainstay colors that you would come across in any closet (click!): black, white, charcoal, and navy; leather when it’s the right season. Her coats are classic and versatile, made for every day-to-night affair ever. But above all, they’re tailored to perfection—slim-fitting and effortlessly sleek—and that’s what’s got me hooked.

In a sea of exaggerated outfits and not-quite-appropriate skin-show, Emmanuelle Alt’s never-changing look seems so fresh to me—because, in a word, she simplifies. I know I told everyone I prefer dresses to pants and that still holds true, even though I think she looks fabulous in hers. But as for those coats? I would wear them every day for the rest of my life (if the rest of my life could be lived out in the –ber months!).

So, can anyone tell me where to get myself an Emmanuelle Alt-ish jacket? Somewhere in the world, it’s Black Friday, after all—there’s no better day to get cracking on my wish list!

Deep, deep down, underneath my dark brown curls and exposed black roots, I was born to be a redhead. At least, that’s what I tell myself every time I see a gorgeous crop of scarlet, strawberry, or carrot-colored hair. Redheads, as you can infer, make me green with envy.

It all started when I saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit for the first time on TV. Instantly, my tween-aged self fell head over heels for Veronica Rabbit’s flaming waves. She was only a cartoon, which made it seem a bit funny to consider her a muse. But it was the ‘90s: the heyday of Renee Russo, Geena Davis, and Geri Halliwell; the time when Julia Roberts, Nicole Kidman, and Debra Messing really came into the limelight. Everywhere I turned, there were beautiful, confident women with this incredible fiery hair—and it looked so good on them that I couldn’t help but want it for myself, and want it badly.

Still, I was never one to experiment with my locks (save an ill-advised, much-lamented pixie cut in sixth grade). The first time I ever dyed my hair, I was 23—so behind the curve, if you think of how teenagers nowadays are tinting their tresses to look like pop stars. In any case, on my first try, I went one measly shade lighter than my natural color. Afterward, my hair looked exactly the same. So on my 24th birthday, I decided to try again—two shades lighter this time, with caramel highlights. Not exactly wild and crazy.

As a kid, I thought I would dye my hair like Tori Amos the first chance I got when I grew up. But I’m a big girl now—and, oh, how things have changed. My obsession with red hair is stronger than ever—to this day, I still don’t understand why Anne of Green Gables hated hers. But I know I will probably never “go ginge,” like I thought I would—simply because I know what suits me.