Around this time last year, I interviewed the amazing Nikki Redcliffe. And she was everything I want to be when I grow up – confident, brilliant, and unapologetically fabulous. Whenever I feature a fellow vintage-loving lady, I get the fun part of trolling through their blogs or IG feeds for some of my favorite outfits they’ve shared. And Nikki’s feed is chock full of 1950’s swoon-worthy finery. I need to pause for a minute to wipe the drool…
As most of you guys know by now, as a little girl I had dreams of one day becoming a marine biologist. I know this is a common career goal for many-a-five year old, to later make way for other paths. But, I was one of those little girls for whom the dream stuck. From little girl to PhD Candidate to a fully fledged professor running my own lab. And to this day, I still can’t believe I get paid to do what I love…
I think sometimes we tend to find comfort in what we know – a certain vibe, a certain pace. And going outside of that comfort zone can be pretty jarring. Deep down, I think I always considered myself a city girl. You know, wise and worldly and all that. Even though the reality is, I’ve lived in a lot of different places, with varying degrees of cosmopolitan. Everything from a huge, bustling metropolis, with 8 million people crowding its streets, to a tiny fishing village, with little more than 500 people and a dairy. We’ve lived in the most isolated city…
Have you ever had an idea that you immediately scoffed at? You know the one: Where, as soon as the thought forms in your head, you laugh at the absurdity… Despite the pie-in-the-sky nature of it all, you share it with your husband anyway, with the first words out of your mouth being, “I know this sounds nuts, but…” And then what if you just went and did it anyway?? If this kind of story sounds intriguing, read on….
And just like that, we’ve bid farewell to 2019 (and the 2010’s) and started a new decade. When I was a kid, time would never move fast enough – I simply couldn’t wait for the next milestone. For my birthday, for summer vacation, for the single of sleigh bells signaling Santa was on his way. Nowadays, time moves so quickly I practically get whiplash, and all I want to do is slow it down. It’s crazy to think another year has passed.
Truth be told, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. Christmas cookies are kind of wasted on me and I’m not a fan of egg nog (it’s a wonder Santa didn’t just pass by me for my rejection of Christmas staples). Even as a kid, I could hoard my Halloween candy for months, much to my sister’s chagrin. I’m the weird girl who goes to a restaurant and says she’ll just have one bite of her husband’s dessert, and actually means it. But, if I ever do hedge away from the garlic bread and towards the dessert tray (rare,…
I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve been binging on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel ever since the new season aired. And while swooning over the costumes and reveling in the glitz and the glam, I particularly appreciate how sassy Midge always has the perfect comeback. She has an uncanny knack for getting on stage and going off the cuff. Always ready with the appropriate one liner to zing the hecklers. Now, I’m sure having a screen writer doesn’t hurt, but there are way too many moments in life where I think of the perfect thing to say far too…
It’s that time of year again, when all of the turkey leftovers have dwindled and Christmas is in full swing! Although most stores here in NC have had Christmas decorations up before Halloween, the holiday spirit doesn’t kick in for me until after Thanksgiving. Mr. Dressed and I spent last Friday in our pajamas, chomping on leftovers and starting to get cracking on our Christmas shopping!
The other week I met with an industrious, charming group of freshman who were assigned to interview a faculty member whose research aligned with their career interests. We arranged a time to meet and they sat around the table, smiling politely in my direction, pens poised. One assumed the role of the scribe, another the interviewer, the others fiddled with their notebooks. And I remembered so poignantly being them, nervously shaking hands with a professor and seeing nothing but the space between where I was and where they sat.
This is that very magical time of year where the trees take on a certain sparkle and tinsel starts to grace shop windows. Autumnal tones start to give way to winter whites, forest greens, and cranberry reds. So, I do as any normal vintage-loving girl would do: Fight back hard with the brightest hues I can find in my closet…