Skip to main content

Before the fades of changing seasons

Books, sandals, and accidental tan lines in sultry summer heat
Bicycling to and from the Farmer’s Market on Saturday mornings
Making wishes on weedy little fairy flowers
Walking barefoot through warm shards of grass
Cruising in the August glow with the windows down
Sticky watermelon at backyard get-togethers
Lolling about somewhere beneath the shade
Stopping to smell the roses

Popular posts from this blog

what rushes beneath us is a mystery

Rhapsodize. Rips. Reminiscing. Rosaries. Reveries. Sundries. Studs. Summer. Silk. Shorelines. (Zara dress, Seashell ~worn as ring~ that Alex found in the ocean, BrooklynThread and Egyptian bracelets, Jeffrey Campbell wedge sandals, F21 rosary)

Mad Hatter's Club

Must've been feeling a bit Guns N' Roses... With the celebratory catawampus winding down like an elderly jack-in-the-box leftover from the fades of childhood memory, we meant for a subdued and only mildly scandalous New Year’s Eve. A slight difference from the model of fulsome traditions, our intimate dinner party--fully fledged in the company of my love child camera, tippy top hats, and cocktails--came in with a whisper and went out with a bang. And as I stare to the horizon of 2009 and to all the rock’n possibilities sauntering forward with the New Year… a smile washes over. And into this vast internet superhighway, warmest wishes go out to The Minx and Fashionably Early , both ever lovely (!!!)… thank you for my blog awards. Colin Stuart ankle boots. Tripp studded gloves and shredded skinnies. Vintage (faux) caplet. Nordstrom-Savvy scarf.

Forty winks with Chloe, Dolce, & Lover...

Chasing Chloe around the house has become an exhaustible adventure, certainly worthy of America's Funniest Home Videos. At just 4 months old, she's a princess with a pistol... destructively dragging her food dishes up and down the stairs, prancing and carpet-rolling to her own self-entertainment, screaming the second you aren't allocating boundless amounts of attention, and pawing/scratching/chewing/eating every pillow in sight. Thus far, she's homicidally massacred a newly drafted manuscript, 2 pair of shoes, 1 fringe embellished scarf, and even my favorite glitter-studded tights are now a shredded pile of nylon tossed morbidly in the tights cemetery. Hope everyone's having a great weekend... ;) (Lover dress, Dolce & Gabbana wedges, H&M tights)