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Tiny Dancer

Ode to pictures galore... we are NOT camera virgins. As the weekend swiftly dwindles away following a saga of dinner parties, Christmas tree mishaps (ornament wars), and that old familiar work hard, play harder mantra… my narcissistic denim tendencies beckoned like the call of the wild. In the very nearly retirement section of my closet they loitered, brooding in uncharacteristic glamour. But with a downcast feeling that pulls you from reverie… bluntly, I knew nothing else compared to the resurgence of my second-skin blue jean baby . And about a week (or more) ago, I was pleasantly taken aback when the lovely Carrie over at Bare Style sent an e-mail and subsequently mailed over a bundle of (unexpected) amazing goodies from her store Bare Accessories . Launching a slightly embarrassing (I won’t lie) celebratory dance, it took all of a minute for the clutch, bangle, and AA leggings to baptize themselves among the legion. Obviously fated to join the ranks of my closet, I can’t wait to tak...

Home for the Holidays

Santa Baby, I realize you've been particularly busy, what with the elves bogarting the majority of your time with notorious marshmallow fights and the sudden reinstatement of hot chocolate… not to mention those other precarious activities involving one sequestered sleigh bell. Let’s be honest, Dondor throwing his back out during that impromptu flight simulation and the sticky candy cane incident with Blitzen no one’s talking about, certainly has caused a rift in your mission-provoking schedule. But if you'd please FedEx/USPS/UPS the following items to my Christmas tree this holiday season, I’d genuinely appreciate it. Obviously, I've been exceptionally bad… I mean good and only moderately naughty this year... a few misdemeanors, bar fights, F*** you slip-ups, madcap coffee addictions, and obsessive online shopping-revelry certainly doesn ’t warrant a stocking full of coal, right. Anyway, Santa, without appearing overzealous, there’s no time like the present to m...

Wild Thing... I think I love you

When a quasi-sporadic jaunt had us regaling any amount of apathy, my lax interpretation of frugality was tested. I was supposed to be Christmas shopping, but the slightest notion only manifested a spending floodgate that swung wide-open… breaching all self-discipline. So there I was, attempting a silent negotiation, yes-no-no-yes. And just like that, the holier-than-thou shoe gods had me by Gheppetto ’s strings, and were yet again exultant. In every conceivable ( shoe predicament ) way, it seemed a publicized threat to some bizzarro stylistic-existence, and obviously some things are beyond control. In the silver lining, there’s an upside to this inadvertent gluttony because these powerhouse Maryjane’s--with their patent leather and subtle contrasting edge--will always be there, for all those untamed days ahead. Seriously, there's more to me than just savage kicks... but in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, I suppose one day, "I will literally be the woman who lived ...