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

Where the road takes you

Gallivanting about in a whimsy of gossamer textures and floral patterns had me feeling uncharacteristically girlish, but I couldn’t resist the magical vibe and the way sunlight seemed to pour through it and all around. (F21 tunic and knee socks, Miss Me jacket, DIY denim cutoffs and studded bag, Zinc platforms)

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Dirty Little Secret

While casually perusing the supermarket isles for those everyday staples, I think I briefly lost consciousness when I spotted these righteous tie-dye skinnies crammed amongst a hoard of others like some dirty little secret. Beneath a storm of florescent lighting, there they were at Walmart (!!), waiting for well-deserved recognition! Extracting reasonable doubt, I immediately implemented their placement into my wardrobe… vacillation need not apply. p.s. I'm terribly busy with a manuscript deadline, but will be visiting everyone very soon. And for those who so thoughtfully granted me awards, I promise I haven't forgotten... but on the contrary, am working on a special thank you post. xx Vintage Sequin Jacket... Promiscuous Heels... L.e.i. Skinny Jeans.

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A Harness to Hold Me

After months of insatiable cyber-stalking, I finally spotted the Sam Edelman vaulted wonders, and self-restraint immediately spider-webbed into an inextricable pursuit. A victim to the hunt, I admit, my initial reaction could easily be perceived as semi-ridiculous panic. Naturally, I called the momma bear. And even as her ritualized shopping excursion unfolded, she elicited a rather piercing squeal through the telephone receiver, which undoubtedly created a bevy of stares among the crowded grocery store aisles. Like a little devil perched high upon my right shoulder, she urged me to buy them… evidently an advocate to my daringly unapologetic platform fetish . A silent negotiation yanked me from reverie, and a minute later, Ben called verifying my bootstrapped harness wishes would soon be one among my closet’s legion. Maybe they’re just a pair of shoes , but they were going to mine… and when the e-mail confirmation deep-rooted his completely unexpected purchase, all he said was, “Well,...

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Vintage Lollipops

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