I have been lucky to work with some pretty amazing small businesses in my time at the helm of this blog. True artists and entrepreneurs who are trying to release good into the world through what they create and how they make women feel. And the best kinds of collaborations (in my mind) come about where I get to work with an artist and know instantly that they simply ‘get’ me, with no explanation needed.
When I was younger I was obsessed with candy buttons. You know what I mean – the dots of candy stuck to the long strip of paper, in a stream of rainbow colors. You would systematically go row by row, peeling them off with your teeth and convincing yourself they had different flavors. In truth, they basically amounted to little more than sugar and cornstarch, and you always ended up eating more of the paper than the actual candy…
If you haven’t already guessed it, I have pretty strong feelings about my personal style. I know what I like and what I don’t like, and generally go with what makes me happy. I actually prefer to shop alone – spending as long or as little time in a shop as I like, never looking for an outside opinion on whether or not something suits me. It took awhile for me to get comfortable in my shopping skin. So, you can imagine my feelings when it comes to someone else shopping for me…
There is something so crisp and fresh and zesty about summer. The downside is, the humidity makes my hair do one thing and one thing only: lie straight and flat. Like a seal coming out of the water, it falls in sheets around my face. As a now-mature 30-something-year-old woman, I have decided to stop fighting City Hall and embrace the state my hair prefers to be. For the next few months, I predict fewer curls will grace these cyber pages. But, I’ve chosen to pick my battles and appreciate that my hair is its own independent woman. Cause when…
In many ways, I feel that vintage carries with it stories of the past. A bit of the woman who wore her before me. Like a friend who has known you your entire life, there are secrets in every swath of fabric, every stitch of leather. And as I reach for a particular piece on a particular day, I feel as though I’m reaching for that woman. Taking her hand and letting her know that I remember her. That I carry her in my daily life and have become part of the story.
I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm. Ever since I was a kid, I couldn’t get enough books to read and would devour them in a few hours. It was something to help me keep up with my ever-buzzing mind or my place to escape to when the bullying got to be too tough. There were pages full of adventure. A world beyond my own. When I got older and would travel, my backpack would be laden with at least 5+ books by the time I got home, as I’d need to scoop up a new one in every…
In truth, I’ve always been the kind of person who likes the hustle and bustle. Although I relish my alone time, I have to admit I love the buzz of a busy restaurant or walking around a city thriving with energy. And I’m so much more productive when I have 12 things to do – when there’s just one task on my To Do list, there’s too much room for procrastination.
It’s funny how life imitates fairytales sometimes. As we’re winding down the semester, I can’t help but feel as if I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole. That I’m constantly running late (for a very important date) or ending up at tea parties (serving adult drinks) where everyone, myself included, seems a bit mad. That no day is complete without a bit of an identity crisis, with an endless croquet match I can never seem to win. Needless to say, with the end in sight and these final few weeks upon us, I’m feeling like a headless Cheshire Cat more than…
As many of you are probably aware, I don’t really “do” pants. I sprouted up like a beanpole when I was 12. Pants were always too short on me and I could never find any that made me feel amazing. Even as an adult, I find them terribly uncomfortable and there are only very few pairs I have ever really seen eye to eye with. Don’t get me wrong – pants are sometimes a necessary evil. I’m not going to wear my vintage dresses on a 36 hour flight across the world or to paint our living room. But those…
Sometimes I can get lost thinking about all of the million random occurrences that need to happen to lead up to some big event (or even the small everyday ones). In retrospect, a path always seems to straightforward. A decision so simple to go from from A to B to C. But looking from the opposite direction, there are a million twists and turns that ultimately lead to that endpoint. And sometimes these can be positive – looking at the pivotal move that brought you towards the career you have now. The love of your life. Or the perfect piece…