Robert Frost is and will probably forever be one of my favorite poets of all time. His poetry has popped up at very key moments in my life; I even used one of his works in the frontispiece of my PhD. Needles to say, Frosty and I are old friends. One of his iconic works “Nothing Gold Can Stay” speaks to how fleeting everything is, particularly the most perfect and meaningful things in our lives.
The ocean is and will forever be in my blood. Ever since I was a kid, you simply couldn’t get me out of the waves. And I grew up in New England, where the sea is not known for being a friend to those of us who like to avoid hypothermia. Even still, I would swim until my fingers became pruney and I was nearly cooked like a lobster in the sun, simultaneously shivering from the cold. But, I loved it. And through to adulthood, whenever I was having a terrible day, I would find solace in the ocean and throw my…
Not going to lie – I have spent much of the past week in my pajamas. Not the same ones, mind (cause that would be gross), but I’ve definitely indulged in some hardcore lounging. But today, I’m shaking off the cobwebs and heading out into the fray today to do as we vintage huntresses do – hunt!
As another year draws to a close, I can’t help but sit, The Thinker-style, and ponder on what shape I want 2016 to take. To prepare myself for the inevitable questions of what my New Years Resolutions will be. Now, my cynical self tends to be squarely in the camp of “you can make resolutions any time you choose” where, for all intents and purposes, NYE is just an arbitrary date. But, my silver-lining self thinks the world can do with a few reminders now and then. And I have to admit, this time of year definitely lends itself to reflection and resolve…
I hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling here! From our Dressed family to yours – wishing you a merry, sparkly, love-filled holiday season. I’m unspeakably grateful to you all for following along with my fashionable adventures this year – that’s been the best Christmas gift a vintage-loving gal can ask for.
As the end of the year is drawing to a close, I can’t help but look back on the frenzy of this past year and try to make sense of it. To try to connect a jumble of seemingly random events and wonder why they brought me to this particular moment – and where they’ll bring me to next. It’s definitely been a year of ups and downs (as most years are). Whether you believe in fate or the randomness of the universe, there is still something stringing it all together. Something invisibly connecting the dots.
Okay, we all know I love to dress up. I get fancy for a Tuesday. So I practically start to quiver with excitement when I get to get seriously frocked up. And not run-of-the-mill, simply wearing a dress fancy. I’m talking: Glitter. Tulle. Heels so high I become Amazonian. Eyeshadow so glittery I am mistaken for a disco ball. Skirts so poofy they need their own zip code. That level of fancy. Because standing under the mistletoe, welcoming the jolly fat guy in a red suit, ringing in the new year – these are not things to be taken lightly…
I’m sure I’m not the only one who stares into the depths of her closet in the morning and mutters the infamous phrase “I have nothing to wear!” (yep, even me). Truthfully, it doesn’t matter if you have Emelza Marcos shoe collection or are reaching for a potato sack each day, everyone’s wardrobe can use a little recharge. That’s when I start to think outside the box…
I have a soft spot for fashion that looks like it may have one day been someone’s sofa. This can include items of clothing, handbags, or shoes. Basically, if it could have just as easily been the fabric destined for an armchair or victorian draperies, I’m sold (Seriously, those Von Trapp’s had it right). I love brocades and tapestry and heavy, luscious fabrics. There’s just something about the weight of them that speaks to bygone eras…
I think we all have a different recipe for what makes a dream sweet. Perhaps in your world, it’s Antonio Banderas fanning you with palm fronds while whispering sweet nothings, or swimming through towers of gold coins, Scrooge McDuck style (though that always looked rather painful to me…). But my sweetest dreams usually involve being out with my Mr. and my pup, happening upon the most perfect blooms, wearing the most perfect 1950’s border print dress…