We are finally feeling the last strains of summer give way to autumn. I can almost see the humidity leaving the air here in NC and hear a tussle of leaves as a cool breeze starts to bring in the first strains of fall. I’m always a bit sad when summer starts to end, yet can’t wait to start busting out some cozy layers.
There are a lot of questions I feel are highly inappropriate, yet are asked almost daily of most women. I’m sure we all face them – ranging from what our salary is to what dress size we wear to when we’re getting married to when our womb is going to start busting out children. Statements that are made to clearly tell us the things we should have. Should want. Pointing us towards what is normal, with the implication being what is most certainly not normal. And although many of us have found ways to pivot when those questions arise, there…
Last week marked the official start to the semester. Back to working in hyperdrive, racing around as fast as my heels can carry me, trying to keep up with teaching and forever at the mercy of the undergrads. I’ve also introduced 3 new students into the lab this semester. I have a feeling that the biggest lesson they’ll learn from me in the next four months is: It’s really really really hard to set up a lab!
I am not a gal who can resist a novelty print. Especially one you can’t quite see what it is until you get up close. It’s imbued with a sort of magic – as if it has a hidden secret you can only whisper in close proximity. I’ve seen this amazing clover dress with those magical, sporadic ladybugs a few times now in my vintage adventures. And yet, it was never quite right. She was either way too small or I was way too slow. And because I’m a believer in vintage karma, I knew I just had to wait…
None of us ever want to admit we have a type. No matter how much our friends say we’re predictable, we want to believe that we’re all open minded and never shallow enough as to gravitate towards a formulaic list of characteristics. And yet, when you look back at your track record, chances are there is an inevitable pattern…
I’ve never really been a hat person. There are a million reasons for this, not the least of which is my abnormally large head (I swear, most hats sit on top of my head. Literally, perched). Truth is, I’ve never been a fan of how I looked in hats. I’ve branched out a few times for the perfect vintage hat (case in point), but it’s definitely been a fashion category I have yet to fully exploit.
A few weeks back I had my annual closet clearout. It’s always such a good feeling to pass on things you no longer wear to fellow vintage-lovers who can be another chapter in their story. But, as my husband always says, it’s not really a closet clearout. It’s really a “Make Room for New Dresses.” He clearly doesn’t know me at all…
There’s a big part of me that gets a complete kick out of dressing in themes. And I don’t mean in a costume sense (though I can rock a Dorothy moment like nobodies’ business). I mean that if I see a seaside print I start having visions of starfish necklaces and glittery seafoam heels. Florals instantly have me reaching for a butterfly purse. Red gingham and I simply can’t help but don my apple necklace and a basket bag, just to look like a human picnic.
I must admit, the last few months of summer have been pretty blissful. Although there’s the normal stress of day to day, I’ve luxuriated in the lack of frantic lecture writing and racing between campus and my office. I think it’s so important to stop and appreciate the downtime, because before I know it, the fall semester will be greeting me with a knowing smirk.
When I was a kid, we weren’t allowed to eat “sugar cereals” outside of a special treat. And in our house, a sugar cereal meant anything where sugar was the first or second ingredient on the nutrition panel. I remember scouring box after box in the breakfast aisle, crossing my fingers. But, alas, none of the ones you want as a kid – from the cartoon bunny to the adorable bumble bee – would make the cut. So, Cheerios and Rice Checks were plentiful in my house, but many a chocolatey count or crunchy captain were relegated to staying in the…