I have and will always have a weakness for novelty prints. Their quirkiness and whimsy, what’s not to love? I am particularly enamored with prints that look like polka dots from afar, but reveal their true colors the closer you get. When I first spied this particular dress, it looked like a series of black, brown and blue swirls…but upon closer inspection I nearly squawked with the cuteness of it all. I mean, ROOSTERS? Now there’s something to crow about…
There’s nothing that makes my heartbeat quicken with quite as much commitment as the word Tulle. Tulle dresses, tulle skirts, tulle trim… Floaty and feminine, speaking to sun drenched fantasy and candlelit dinners and twirling around a twinkling ballroom. Also speaking to, you know, Fridays. Cause I haven’t met a Friday yet that didn’t require a bit of whimsy…
When I was young, I remember very vividly the dresses that were saved for a special occasion. The dresses that lay tucked towards the back of the wardrobe, to brought out on holidays, when the day took on a certain reverence. My favorites were always my Easter dresses. Usually some combination of velvet and tulle, those dresses really epitomized the concept of Sunday Best.
Although I’m still relatively new to this whole blogging malarky, one of my favorite things about starting and maintaining a vintage style blog thus far has been the incredible community of people I’ve tapped into and the ability to connect with like-minded people all around the world. When you think about it, it’s kind of remarkable how far technology has taken us and how quickly you can feel close to people you’ve never actually met. If you told me 20 years ago all of this was possible, I’m not sure I would have believed you. here really is comfort in this idea of…
Given the amount of traveling I’ve done in my life, I realized I’ve spent nearly a decade in the Southern Hemisphere. The majority of my time has been in Australia and New Zealand, and while they are both thankfully English speaking countries, I swear they need to come complete with a translation guide. My recent trip to New Zealand this past week had me reaching into the recesses of my brain for the kiwi colloquialisms I once knew so well, even though it had been nearly a decade since I’d lived there.
I have finally returned from my travels around Middle Earth! It was an absolutely amazing trip and I’m brimming over with the things we saw and the places we visited. As fun as traveling is though, it’s always nice to come home and see our furry dudes and hug the entirety of my closet like an old friend. It’s also nice to get back to a regular blogging schedule again, which I was surprised by how much I missed.
As many of you are probably aware, we’ve just completed Shark Week back in the States. Now, amongst the scientific community, Shark Week tends to be a bit controversial, a bit sensationalized, and a bit of a stretch from what we shark biologists actually find ourselves doing on a daily basis. Though everyone assumes Shark Week is Christmas Morning meets Mardi Gras meets an 80% off shoe sale at Nordstrom for me, it truly isn’t so…
By the time you read this, I will be up up and away somewhere over the blue-green ocean, on my way to one of my favorite places in the world. For the next two weeks, I’m combining business and pleasure in New Zealand. The first week revolves around a conference, full of sharky discussions and serious brow furrowing over complex scientific topics. For the second half, Mr. Dressed Aesthetic is joining me and we’ll be adventuring all around the North Island, full of good beer, beautiful scenery, and way more meat pies than I care to admit. I lived in New Zealand…
More and more, I find myself reaching for cardigans and boleros, sweaters and swing coats, as autumn starts to slowly give up her fight. I can’t deny it any longer: Winter has arrived in Australia. Now, to be fair, winter in Perth is not like winter in Boston (where I grew up) – no snow to contend with or icy wings whipping across the streets. Mostly there is rain. And gloom. So, I really can’t be blamed for wanting to inject a bit of color into the grey streets…
A few weeks back, I clicked my Dorothy heels twice and hit the town for a Girl’s Night at Soda Sun Lounge. One of our friends is moving to the East Coast and it would potentially be the last time we could all get together before the move. Let me tell you, my friends are Very. Busy. Women. It took us three months to find a night when we were all in the country or not otherwise engaged. Luckily, my friends are also very organized and the night was locked into the diary back in April. We are nothing if not…