I am not a huge fan of bugs (understatement, understatement). Oddly enough, rodents don’t even make me bat an eyelash, I have no issues with snakes (so long as they stay on their side of the path), and we all know I have the opposite reaction to most people when it comes to sharks. However, if there is a spider within an arm’s length of my person, I turn into a shrieking, squealing, jumping-on-a-chair mess. It’s not my proudest moment.
I have finally returned from my crazy trek around the world and am wallowing a bit in my jet lag and post-travel cold (that I always seem to get). A whopping 36 hours in transit isn’t the most pleasant experience, but I have to say I still marvel at how small the world has become. How I can get on an airplane (okay 4) and miraculously find myself on the opposite side of the planet. And how liberating that feeling is. As though anywhere – and anything – is within reach.
Another month has come and gone, and this one was a serious whip-lash inducing frenzy of work, work and more work! I have to say, for being a shortened month, I felt as though I crammed in more than usual. It was certainly productive – from the successful course (which was done and dusted as of Friday), progress on a few new projects, and I somehow managed to not twitch myself into an oblivion despite the over abundance of caffeine.
There’s a certain time of day referred to as “The Children’s Hour”, which is that moment just between the end of day and the start of night. It’s origin’s were in a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, published in 1860, where just before sunset was described as “A pause in the day’s occupations.” Though the poem is essentially about a father and his children, there was always something so melancholy to me about it. As if we can stop time before darkness falls. As if we can spot our long gone innocence in that moment, before we have to go and…
One of my favorite things and simultaneously most frustrating things about my wardrobe is how things can hide. Garments tuck themselves into corners and no matter how much I wear them, they still manage to slip from my memory. But, on the plus, flipping through the racks means I get to rediscover them and fall in love all over again. This Trashy Diva dress and I shared exactly that moment this morning. Gone but not forgotten, with her French Quarter print and sounds of jazz swirling from her skirts. Our eyes met across a crowded wardrobe and with a slow smile, we…
As we all know, that all loved up day that comes but once a year has come around the mountain again. Where the world succumbs to a glittery, heart-shaped confetti explosion at every turn. I know that a lot of people are pretty down on the whole concept of Valentine’s Day. Dubbing it “Black Sunday” and cursing it into oblivion. But, I think the V-Day tends to get a bad rep: “It’s a Hallmark Holiday,” “It was invented by the candy companies,” “It mocks singletons”….etc etc etc. We’ve all heard them (and some we may individually agree with). But, much like any…
As we’ve burst forth into a new year, I can’t help but cast a glance back now and then on the year we just bid farewell too. It’s interesting what evokes memories – a smell, a song, a glance at a person’s profile that spins you into a déjà vu moment. I spent a lovely afternoon on Sunday at one of my Perth favorites – Oh Henry Vintage. When I got home, delighting in my spoils (coming soon to a blog post near you), I caught a glimpse of another dress from Oh Henry that I hadn’t worn in awhile. I…
We all have features about ourselves that we try to hide. Try to cover up, deflecting the gaze of passersby to other things. Maybe this is a birthmark you find unsightly, an area of your body you wish you could tone. Whether it’s stature or shape or a tiny feature no one notices except you, in your heart they are your cross to bear. But the truth is, these beautiful ‘flaws’ mark a roadmap to who you truly are, and should never be hidden away.
Brace yourself ladies, for you are about to meet one of the most amazing dresses ever to grace my closet. The kind of dress that makes the day a bit brighter, makes your heart beat a bit more quickly, and makes a Tuesday feel like the most perfect, endless Saturday. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The dress you never knew your life was incomplete without. The feeling of coming home.
About once a year, the unthinkable happens. I reach into the depths of my wardrobe and find pieces that should find their way to new homes. Whether they are garments that never quite fit properly, vintage pieces I rescued in the hopes of tailoring (but never did), or beautiful things that I find I simply don’t wear, I’m listing them here in the hopes that they find their next leading lady. have to admit, it’s not an easy process for me. I am the consummate hoarder – because you just never know if a particular garment will suit a particular occasion you have’t…