The quandary I find myself in as a fifth-year architecture student is a contagious middle-aged syndrome that has instigated a plague-like epidemic affecting both my fashion and manner. Though I still go out during my semester in New York City, I have recently begun to prefer soft Merlots over countless shots of vodka, Feist and my dear friend Fiona over loud Top 40 hits and sweaters and boots over skimpy tank tops and heels.

Okay so. You have all these clothes, some fabulous, some good ol’ reliable standards and some that you’re not quite sure how you ended up with them. Now, how are you supposed to figure out what to wear? I’m sure I’ve mentioned several of the following points in various other columns over the past year and a half, but today I’m going to try and give you a compressed version of how to put together an outfit.

My recent incursion into the workforce has rendered me confused as to what exactly constitutes business attire in architecture. With no enforced dress code, the firm I have been working for in the past months continues to surprise me each week, with its similarity to the casualness of a Silicon Valley start-up (though, with the unfortunate exclusion of the free beer, massages and laundry pickup).

One must be wary of buying hats. They are sneaky creatures that trick you in the store and so often lose their charm when pulled out of your closet. But a good hat, a perfect headband, a perky flower lovely enough people suggest you spray it with perfume … any of these good accessories on your head can make all the difference in the world.

As the leaves change color here in Manhattan and the winter coats emerge from storage, so do the ghostly costumes and memories from Hallows Eves past. Stashed away like contraband in the deep recesses of my storage boxes, the crinkled clumps of polyester and lace haunt me with past decisions to dress each October as sexualized versions of mice, ladybugs and various felines. Yet, as I regretfully admit to my annual patronage of sexy costume sites (try convincing your parents that the credit card statement of a $70 “smutty purchase” on 3wishes.com was for midterm study guides …), I find myself on the continuous mission to capitalize on the one holiday that allows a scantily clad self to prance the streets without judgment.

Talk in my last column of lace- and otherwise scantily-clad women on the Fall ’09 Runway generated conversation among some of my friends and my editor about Cornell students’ most frequent occasion for getting scandalous: going out. I was going to say: “Friday and Saturday nights,” and then I remembered how the weekend apparently starts on Wednesday. As if there were not enough to figure out, getting dressed to go out is complicated by our lovely fall / winter weather.

Despite news of rising employment rates and other positive economic indicators, the recession is still very much on everybody’s minds. The Fall 2009 collections that debuted last spring are interesting snapshots of the fashion community’s take on where we were then and where we would want to be this fall. The general consensus is that designers handled the gloom in one of two ways: through extravagance or a more staid conservatism. This, as with any binary system, is a gross over-simplification, and many designers mixed these two elements in one collection.

The start of the fall season marks the arrival of fall fashion — along with the “September Issues,” our go-to source for deciding whether Philip Lim or Marc Jacobs will be hanging in our closets for the next six months.

I remember anticipating the day when the weighty 300-plus-page editions showed up in my mailbox; I was eager to delve into the fantasy world of fashion I knew Vogue, Elle and Lucky promised each month. Flipping open to a photo spread by Mario Testino offered a quixotic getaway into the land of high fashion, rife with haute couture gowns and jewel encrusted baubles one could only dream of possessing.

Lauren Weisberger ’99 is probably my favorite Cornell alumna. She worked at Vogue, wrote a New York Times bestseller, and had her wildly successful novel The Devil Wears Prada turned into a hit movie.

In Weisberger’s book and movie, Miranda Priestly is a scary editor-in-chief of Runway magazine quick to berate her assistant Andy Sachs. Miranda sends Andy on the most ridiculous of tasks — my personal favorite being when Andy was instructed to get an advance copy of a Harry Potter book.

Yet despite Miranda’s bullying, it must be noted that she is a powerful, smart and decisive editor-in-chief.

News flash to any fashion fans who don’t know: Miranda is based off Anna Wintour (despite what Anna may say).

Two and a half years ago I was e-mailed asking if I wanted to write a fashion column for The Sun. After confirming that this was not, in fact, a joke — let me just say that I was incredibly flattered and excited. Visual aid for my reaction to the news; the moment when Kim MacAfee was chosen to kiss rock star Conrad Byrdie before he went off to war. If you didn’t have two sisters with “special” movie tastes growing up — that was from the 1963 film Bye Bye Birdie. For those of you who missed that classic film — think Cher, D and Murray “on the freeway,” but in a good way.