One of the greatest things in my life is being able to watch my niece grow up – granted, much of this observing has to be done from afar via FaceTime, but every time I get to spend time with her I’m in awe of the person she is becoming. The amazing person she already is. My second greatest thing is probably the fact that, for every dress I make myself, I can make her a miniature version and marvel in the unending cuteness.
I’m the kind of person who doesn’t shy away from whimsy. Romantic and dreamy? Sign me up. Quirky and eye catching? I’m so in. Due to my penchant for quirk, I have a collection starting to reach critical mass of handbags approximating food items and shoes with ears and a dress (or 12) in a novelty whimsical print. I’m not sorry….
I come from a long line of lead-footed women. What I mean to say is that speedy driving runs in my blood. I learned to drive on the streets of Boston, where people don’t mess around. Where speed limits are merely suggestions and using your blinker is a sign of fear. So, after moving to Perth 5 years ago I really had to acclimate to an entirely different driving culture. One of politeness, of obeying traffic laws. Where people merrily let you merge and if you edge so much as 5km over the speed limit, you can be just as sure…
I tend to discover new brands and shops through my favorite bloggers and my can’t-keep-away-from-it favorite social media app, Instagram. One that was continually piquing my interest, appearing in the closets of forever favorites Miss Amy May and Cici and Marie, was Dolly and Dotty, a UK-based brand that specializes in 1950’s silhouettes aimed at women who aren’t afraid to be celebrate themselves.
There is something about a springtime vintage floral print that can bring a bit of sunshine into the dreariest of days. As if the minute you slip it over your head, the sun perks up and pushes her way through the clouds just to get a glimpse. And it doesn’t matter how many I own, the minute I spy another I am powerless to resist. I just love to love them.
What is it about this time of year? In either hemisphere, the world just seems brimming with possibilities. It’s just barely the start of summer in the North, just barely the start of winter in the South, and the air is crisp and clean and I can feel my closet quiver in excitement at the new season ahead.
In my opinion, there are certain items every woman needs in her wardrobe arsenal. These include (but are not limited to): (1) the perfect little black dress (paired with the the perfect red lipstick), (2) killer heels that put a swing in your hips and a raise of your eyebrow, (3) a vintage jacket to nip the waist in something fierce, (4) a sundress to twirl in and (5) the comfiest pajamas (I firmly believe in this last one. As much fun as it is to dress up, it’s SO much fun to come home and crawl into fleece).
I have a confession to make – this is what my hair looks like when I wake up. Straight as an arrow. Though those with unruly hair surely want to kill me right now, I spent much of my younger years trying to beat my hair into submission. Trying to convince it to be something that it’s not. But, alas, this is how my hair likes to be: Shiny and straight. It refuses to hold a substantial curl. Rejects bobby pins over time (literally spits them out like projectiles). I’ve gone to many a pinup hair-tutorial, to try a pin curl or…
One of the greatest things about having a blog is that you are in complete control of what you put forth into the world, and are thus in complete control of public perception. I get to choose the best photographs, the perfect light, the good hair days. Ohhh the swirly, dreamy life we can create, where dirty dishes and scuffed shoes don’t exist.
When I was younger, I went through a phase where orange sherbet was my absolute favorite flavor of ice cream. It was quite a deviation for me, as I was up until that point a die-hard vanilla girl. And nowadays, though a bit too sickly sweet for me, a dress of a certain color will whisk me back to that summer, with drips of sunshine melting down my arms, pumping higher and higher on the swingset and spinning in the park for hours…