Sometimes, beauty arrives in the spaces between things. Like the energy right before you kiss someone. The perfect moment when you’re reunited with family you haven’t seen in awhile. Or the intricate, fragile pattern of of a web. I once read, Lace is formed from the absence of substance; it is imagined in the spaces between the threads. Lace is a thing like hope. It lived, it survived, and it was desired for what it was not… – Iris Anthony, The Ruins of Lace –
A couple of weeks ago I was interviewed by one of my favorite bloggers, Have Clothes, Will Travel as a Featured Fashionista and was completely humbled and honored to be chosen. She and her husband don’t call one place home, but rather travel all over and see the world, staying as little or as long as they like in one place. I am completely in love with that idea…though I have no idea how I would cart all of my shoes around, there’s something so alluring about a nomadic existence and traveling to whatever country strikes your fancy.
One of the greatest Christmas gifts I received this year was a Visa gift card from my mom, with a note that read, “Please buy something that you’ve had your eye on…” To me, the instructions were clear – I was to buy something extravagant. This gift card was not to be used for bills or food shopping or for anything even remotely resembling practical. If I even dared venture towards a cleaning implement or a petrol station, the card would self-destruct. It was supposed to be used to spoil myself. Hmmmmm….challenge accepted!
Surprisingly, I am a huge fan of the outdoors. I only say surprisingly because you’d take one look at me and assume that the thought of leaving my heels behind for a weekend would be a tantamount to a death sentence. Now, although I agree that the wonders of a mattress and a hot shower cannot be denied, I’ve always been a huge fan of camping and diving and boating and everything in between. I don’t always get back to it as often as I’d like, but every time I do it seems to center me.
There are certain pieces in my closet that came with a bit of magic. A handbag who’s plush grapes you simply couldn’t refuse. A dress that you slip on over your head and feel like it was made for you. Everything about this vintage Rappi dress was meant to be – the fit, the intricate embroidery and scalloped edges, the super full skirt that was made for twirling. Although I tend to lean towards bright colors a lot of the time, I fell in love with the shimmery blush tones of this dress. The perfect muted palette that just seems so full…
So, as I was picking up my morning fuel (read: coffee), the lovely owner of the cafe (who sees me most every day) complimented me on today’s dress and as she handed me my daily injection of caffeine said, “Little birds MUST help you get dressed each morning.” I laughed and skipped off, but I’d be lying if I didn’t take a minute to dwell on how awesome it would be if I could sip coffee while woodland creatures braided my hair…or sewed me frothy confections while I was at work, only to be later whisked off in a magic pumpkin…
For my first outfit post up on the blog, I decided it was only right to start with an old favorite. There is just something about drop-waisted dresses that make my heart skip a beat. I’ve had this 1950s eyelet stunner for years and it really embodies the evolution of the way I used to view my body and the way I celebrate it now. I think that clothing has an amazing ability to turn what we perceive to be negatives into a positive. have always been tall. I was 5’9 when I was 12 years old, and due to a lack…