Someone asked me the other day how in the world I keep track of all of my dresses and handbags and even remember what I have (and where in the world I store them all). I always smile a secret smile when this comes up and admit I have an amazing husband who not only let me commandeer a spare room to turn into a boudoir, but also designed me an app a la Cher Horowitz to organized it all…
Sometimes, it’s all about an unlikely pairing. Peanut butter and jelly. Science and art. Denim and glitter. We have all of these ideas in our head that force a dichotomy – Pretty and smart. Naughty and nice. One or the other. Someone once told you that you have to choose. But once you really think about it and start to break them down – you realize the real magic is that they were meant to be together all along. Mixed and swirled until something uniquely you is created.
I’ve never had an aptitude much for bar games. You know, things like darts or pinball. I always had high hopes for pool, given I fancied myself a science nerd (and we know pool is allll about the physics). But, no matter how many evenings were spent over a pint and a cue stick, I just never seemed to manage to do much more besides click the cue around the table (and occasionally off the table, as the case may be).
Have you ever had a weird obsession you just can’t explain? For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been completely charmed by clothing masquerading as fruit. Heels adored with lemon slices? Yes please! A necklace with a rhinestone apple? Sign me up! So when one of my favorite handbag companies Vendula London came out with their La Petite Creperie range, my eyes scanned the adorable shopfronts and zeroed in immediately on the bag approximating a strawberry tart.
I was a full-on theatre girl growing up (and why am I speaking in the past tense? I still am VERY much a theatre girl now). But, while these days my world is full of schedules and students and all of the science, I spent so much of my teen years and early 20’s on a stage. There is still something about the smell of a costume closet, or fresh paint and plywood, or the whooshing sound of a heavy velvet curtain that brings me right back. As strange as it may seem, I really found myself in the act…
When most people style an outfit, they probably start with the base: The dress. The skirt. The cigarette pant. They build from the foundation and find shoes and accessories to match. Now, while I’ve been known to be inspired by a dress a time or two, more often than not, I start with the perfect handbag…
There is nothing more important than self-care. After the kind of semester I’ve just had (and let’s face it, the kind of 2 years we’ve all just had), I’m looking for it more than ever. And self care can take a variety of forms: either spending some time to yourself getting lost in a good book, heading to the beach for a girl’s weekend, or a splurge on the cutest new handbag range from Vendula London.
I’m sure we all have our favorite seasons – wrapping a scarf on your neck during snowy white winters or the feeling of an ice cold beer on a sweltering summers. But, mine has always been late autumn. That crisp in the air that brings out the light layers and inspires cuddling under down comforters at night. Hats and gloves are not out of place, but you still feel at home on an afternoon stroll, without Jack Frost beckoning you inside.
A lot of my skirt designs have been based off of true vintage pieces that are so swoon-worthy, yet so elusive, I couldn’t wait another minute before making it mine. Occasionally, I will come up with an original design – sparked from my everyday wanderings, an inability to find just what I’m looking for, or based off of some crazy desire for a skirt that lights up. But this latest creation came from an off hand comment from a lovely friend and one of my very favorite handbag companies…
The changing of the seasons is always such an interesting time of year. Here in NC, it’s almost like a constant stop and start. Ohhh, yay, it’s Autumn! Nope, just kidding, Summer…. Hello Fall! Well, that was a nice hour, but let’s go back to a sweltering 90 degrees. As crazy as the to and fro can be, I’ve decided to just roll with the punches and revel in the fact that my summer sundresses get another few weeks of freedom. I mean, if NC wants to be in bloom in October, who am I to argue?