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…
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I made major progress on my Christmas shopping this weekend. Is there anything quite as satisfying as checking things off of a list? Not for this girl. There were so many amazing deals swirling around my favorite shops – it was exactly the motivation I needed! If you haven’t seen it, my comprehensive list of Black Friday/Cyber Monday post is chock full of sales from my favorite vintage-inspired and vintage shops. Most of them are good through end of day Monday, 30 November, so get in while it’s hot!
You know how the story goes: Your eyes lock across a crowded room. Your heartbeat quickens, your palms get sweaty, you lose all power of speech. You had read about this feeling before but never experienced it yourself. And suddenly there it is. Your heart swells and moonlight floods your soul. You see the universe and all of it’s possibilities and realize this is the moment when your life will never be the same. And I’m not talking about boy-meets-girl. I’m talking about girl-meets-dress.
There’s this thought puzzle known as Schrödinger’s cat. It’s based around a ridiculously complex quantum physics paradox, but the basic idea is that, if a cat were in a sealed box with a vial of poison, there is a point of unknown, at which the cat is simultaneously alive and dead, yet neither dead nor alive. When you look into the box, clearly it’s one or the other. But there’s always that moment before you know, where hope remains both alive and dead until that box is opened.
There have been 10’s of thousands of new words added to the English language since I was born – according to Oxford English Dictionary (apparently the authority on the subject, seeing as they literally write the book on words), they add approximately 1,000 a year in a conservative estimate. Apparently these days a new word is added every 98 minutes. That’s crazy. Essentially, it means my niece will have to learn 32,000 more words than I did when I entered kindergarten.
As you read this, I’m firmly ensconced on a beach in Fiji, cocktail in hand! In an effort to be uber organized (and, let’s be honest, an effort to not even glance at my computer for a full week and a half to truly enjoy said cocktails), I scheduled a post or two for while I’m away. This was an outfit from a few weeks ago, where I had a joyous run in with one of those rare folks who doesn’t understand why someone would choose to wear clothing that is (and I quote) “used”.
Despite it sounding rather ominous, the word “Deadstock” is absolute music to my ears… In your vintage travels, should you see the word deadstock used to refer to a garment, it means one that, despite it’s age, has never been worn and very likely never even tried on. It may even be in its original packaging with the tags still attached. This type of garment is an absolute rarity, and I treat it with a reverence otherwise reserved for a pair of Louboutins at 75% off. remember when I first saw this deadstock 1950’s Kerrybrooke dress I was literally powerless to resist…
I think we are constantly learning new things about ourselves. One my most recent work trip, I became acutely aware of yet another quirky Kara-ism. My very favorite (and perhaps odd) thing to do upon arriving at a conference is to check into my hotel and then completely check out. I put up the Do Not Disturb sign, order room service and spend the evening completely alone. Although other friends are filtering into the city and starting to gather the masses, instead I watch terrible tv and turn down all offers to head out to dinner or drinks. I lock myself away…
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.
Given my love of the sea, it was no great surprise that the minute I spotted this 1950’s seashell print dress, I hugged her so tight and refused to let go. There is just something about border prints – I can’t ever get enough. And when that print manages to be clusters of seashells and fishing nets, whispering stories of fishing lore and a life at sea, I can’t really be too hard on myself. Perhaps it’s a pirate’s life for me?