Herb, I think that woman's in her PJ's

Moments ago I almost pulled the trigger on a pair of coral skinnies. It was a close call.

This morning I spent some time reading blogs to see what's going on. Truth be told I don't get to do that as often as I used to, but when tax prep is the alternative it's amazing how suddenly there's a lot more time than I thought. Hmmmm. Anyway, after perusing several blogs I found myself thinking I needed this pair of denim.

I don't.

In fact, and this may strike as blasphemy here in blogland given the current trend, I don't really care for colored denim. It looks cute on other people, but the one red pair in my closet is enough for me.

Where am I going with this?

A few days ago I was talking to a friend about the pitfalls of blogging. I explained how last year I found myself really struggling to find more than a few things in my closet that I loved to wear. We all have those I have nothing to wear days, but it was more than that. I found myself disconnected from my wardrobe, having purchased things that no longer represented me. It was a wake up call.

Reading blogs can turn into mini shopping sprees. Real live women showcasing outfits in real time. If I see enough of them in the same trend I sometimes catch myself thinking maybe I should try it, even though it's not my style at all. Don't get me wrong: it's good to be encouraged to take a risk now and then, but it should still represent your aesthetic.

I wasn't going to post these pictures, but after nearly slipping from the precipice this morning I decided to pull them out. Yes, I wear loungewear in public. Rather frequently, in fact. It stems back to kindergarten when I insisted on wearing my cherry red sleeved baseball pj shirt with the kid drawn house and stick figure family, complete with floofy apple tree, on front to school. Regularly. Until I broke both wrists after slipping from some hay bales, getting casts and then having to have the sleeves cut off my beloved shirt in order to get out of it. Would've hated to be in my mom's shoes that day. Think flood of tears.

Getaways: that time others only stare minimally when they see you

roaming around in broad daylight wearing what they suspect is your nightgown.

A full suite of accessories will cause them to ponder.  

Disregard the looks of mild to moderate confusion.  

Just grin and carry on. 

~Vest: M2F, Dress:  Saturday/Sunday, Boots: Jeffrey Campbell~

Take in some lawn sport where you realize neither of you know how to use the 

color features on the camera and you might resemble an alien.  

And you need an arm workout?

See if there's a party going on. It might be a pajama party, after all.

Seriously though.  I'm not saying I'll never catch a trend and I'm certainly not saying all I ever wear is pajamas (uh maybe?), but I am saying it's important to remember who you are.  I'm happy to report I've rediscovered my footing and am allowing the wardrobe pendulum to swing again in a way that is true to me. Stand by for more jeans and pjs? Maybe even with a flat and a blazer. But most importantly mixed with pieces I love to wear just as much now as when they were purchased.

Why don't you tell me how you really feel about it?

On Saturday I rolled into the kitchen decked out in one of my usual outfits of choice: faded, ripped up slim jeans, a white t and a pair of ankle boots. It was an exciting day: this pair of ankle boots is new. And it has buckles. What can I say? It's the little things, people.

As I glanced sideways in the mirror while strolling down the hall, something seemed off. I stopped, turned, walked back and stood there a moment assessing the situation. Hmmmm. Back in the kitchen (really I'm still on the first entrance but gave you a little context) I say to the Chef, who is so kindly assisting with litterbox duty, 'Dude. Does something about this say Peter Pan?' To which he responds by looking up and proceeding to double over in laughter, 'No, no! I actually never would have thought that. But now that you say it...' Well now.

Taking it back down the hallway I trade out the jeans for a slightly slimmer and much darker pair. Victory. Balance. No Neverland for me today, after all. Turning to the Chef I say, 'Better, right?' Not so much a question, but rather an eyerolling whew.

To which he turns to me straightfaced and says, 'Yeah, but you might want to give your skallywags another roll.'

Everyone's a comedian.

~Details: random t, Current/Elliott-Jeans, Vintage-Belt, Joie-Boots, TK-Bag, Anthro-Sunglasses~

~Vanessa Mooney-Necklace and Bracelets (L), Low Luv-Thunderbird, MarcxMarc-Coil Ring, 

Made With Love-Blue Bracelets~

Childhood pastime: taking a moment to observe the ants. They've got it down.

Skallywags? Reeeeally now?

Here I am demo'ing how I crush his head (kids in the hall voice)...

HAHAHA! I kid, I kid!!

Between The Lines

The incomparable Carey Mulligan in Never Let Me Go

Since we took the desert getaway last month I've been in a pretty zen place trying to maintain better balance in my life. Inside time vs outside time, reading vs watching some tv, work vs down time. I'll just go ahead and state the obvious:it's a lot easier said than done. I'd go so far as to say, at least for me, it takes some focus and deliberate action to stop working, stop watching tv (I am on a reality hiatus though!) and give myself permission during the work week to go outside and get some fresh air. Ahhhh the joys of working at home.

Something I've been trying to do on the weekend is leave my immediate neighborhood and explore another. For some reason it's so refreshing and helps me return with a fresh perspective, despite the pile of laundry still waiting upon my return. This weekend we went on an antiquing adventure in a neighboring city. There was no set agenda and we mostly wandered, but that time spent amongst other people's old things was really great. Everything has its own story, belonged to people who had their own stories and if we took anything home, helped add to that journey. This must be what getting old is because I spent a lot of time dawdling around thinking about where things must have come from and what they must have lived through.

Fresh off our antique adventure, the Chef zipped off to work and I sat down to scan for a good movie. Enter Lars and the Real Girl. I've easily seen it 10 times, yet every time I gather some new nugget that changes the way I think. Continuing on in movie mode, I caught Never Let Me Go just as it started and dove right in. Far from lighthearted and much more gut wrenching, I sat as riveted as the first time I saw it in the theatre and went to bed that night completely content. Good movies are like good books: they're almost better the second and third time around.

For some reason Monday was a brutal day. You know those days you open your eyes and just know it's coming for you? Yeah. One of those. By 5pm I was so past done it was all I could do to make it down the hall and crawl under the covers, blankets over my head. As I laid there in the semi-dark I couldn't help wishing Zoila (Jeff Lewis's housekeeper) would appear, turn on the tv and put in a season of Felicity to wash my less than stellar day away. As I continued lying there--no Zoila in sight--it donned on me: after all these years I still love for someone to tell me a story. I've been an avid reader my entire life, spent many a childhood night reading by flashlight after lights out, and count books amongst my dearest friends. Somehow getting lost in a well-written story, wherever it's coming from, helps me get centered and feel less alone, more connected.

Light at the end of the tunnel before I threw in the towel and went to bed at the same time as a second grader.

Rethinking the Big Nickel

Confession time: I'm a Tupac Shakur fan.

What can I say? It was the 90's.

I'm also an old school Janet Jackson fan and Poetic Justice is a movie I've easily watched at least 20 times. Not sure I should be admitting that, but I guess the secret's out.

Today I was in the kitchen happily whipping up a dairy-free frittata for lunch (Day 10 of the Whole30 and going strong) when suddenly I heard Janet's voice straight out of Poetic Justice:

'My grandmama used to say I was always looking for the big nickel.  Anything I did: ride a bike, go to school, do somebody's hair--she'd say 'Justice, you still looking for that big nickel?''

All afternoon I've thought about the big nickel.  

What's my big nickel? 

I'm definitely someone who's been looking for it since I was a kid, so maybe that's why the line from the movie has stuck with me all these years.  For a long time I think it meant success.  Although I could never quite completely define what success meant to me, I'm pretty sure money was involved.  These days the big nickel is freedom: freedom to try new things (studying US Civics for an upcoming exam), waking up to the cat staring me down and having the time to stare back for 20 minutes to see who breaks first, mid-week getaways when no one else is around, afternoon walks in the sun when most other people are at work, and waving the bird at the ice cream container in the freezer.

We'll see how long the last part lasts, but for now it's pretty good.

~James Perse-T, Current/Elliott-Shorts, Antik Batik-Belt as Necklace, Old Stud Handmade-Belt,

Made With Love, Vanessa Mooney, Motif 56, Vintage-Bracelets & Rings~

King Stare Down

Whole30-ified

Needs no explanation.

Needs a WHOLE LOTTA 'SPLAININ'!

There we were walking along one morning when I look up, squint, and blurt out 'Is that an iguana?

Holy mother that is an iguana.'

  I also may have dropped an eff bomb in there due to state of shock status, but can ya blame me? 

Anyway there was a lady walking her iguana on a leash. For real. She told me it was just like a cat. Poor thing didn't realize who she was talking to. Seriously though, she loves that thing and he is a part of her big nickel.  And he was actually very friendly although my big nickels would be having approximately zero part in that action. 

No thank you and good night.

Don't Just Stand There

What can I say? I'm having a moment. A phase? A thing.

I'm in a zone.

When I was younger and first beginning to collect memories I would find myself in a slew of warm times, cushioned in by friends and laughter or tragedy and sadness resulting in growth and a kind of inner strength that hadn't been there before, and get lulled into thinking life would always be that way.

When I first realized those were seasons I was in my first semester of university, something I had so looked forward to, and hating it.  There I sat in my car, heat blasting on my face and freezing cold toes as -30 weather tried to suck the life out of me, thinking about how boring things had become. Wasn't life on your own supposed to be more interesting than this? As I flipped through images in my mind it hit me 'If that happens again I need to soak it in for all it's worth'.

And thankfully more of those special times keep coming, but they still sneak up sometimes.

Last week we went to the desert for a few days. It was incredibly peaceful and quiet and warm with no set agenda. I was sitting there completely still when it donned on me: you're in one. Not because I was out of town, but because it was quiet enough to hear my life.

Sounds hokey, but it's true.

Is it possible to have a spiritual moment within your life? I'm not sure spiritual is the right word. Maybe a time of introspection or self-reflection where you tuck away inside yourself is a better way to describe it.  Whatever you want to call it, that's where I'm at and no I haven't been hitting the sauce. In fact I'm on a no alcohol thing for 30 days. Yeah, get there.

Lately my spare time has been walks at the beach instead of hours at the blog. Kicking off the Whole 30 and getting serious about maintaining my health. Reading a book instead of watching hours of reality tv. It may not last forever, but it's where I'm happiest right now.  And this lifestyle used to be the norm rather than a retreat. Can't say I'm happy about that but, then again, things don't just change themselves.

On a lighter note though?  I found myself, with few others around, face to face with Erin Wasson while out of town. If you follow me on Pinterest you know she is my absolute fave. Due to state of shock status all I managed to gather (aside from my mouth from the ground smh) was her hair getting into the passenger side of the car.  And yes her hair really is that good. And no I just could not bring myself to haul up into her personal space and interrupt her day. Even though I immediately regretted it after they drove away.

She is an absolute stunner, the definition of brains and beauty, and one of those rare people who looks even better in person.  Girl crush.

I'll probably never recover from not just jumping on her and hugging her. Think deer in headlights.

Eyes Forward, Keep Moving and Don't Stop

Bet you thought I'd flown the coop.  I mean it's been a couple days and no Bachelor recap?! Truth: I haven't even taken a full look at this week's episode.  Blasphemy.  I overheard bits and pieces from the kitchen where I was *ahem* slaving away over a birthday cake turned massive bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough for the Chef. It was his birthday, so the Bachelor is waiting on DVR.  I know that fool Ben decided to keep Courtney and I know Kacie B laid down on the floor in the hallway of a hotel in Switzerland. I'm certain there's much more where that came from, but don't tell me! I need to see that mess for myself and will report back when done.

In the meantime I've been having some pretty productive, but long work days that basically render me incoherent at the end of the day.  Due to this work-related mayhem all I've been able to do is sneak instagrams now and then.  Here are some recent faves from the past week or so.  I am a firm believer in incremental rewards to make the days go by faster.  Examine the evidence:

Initial Tree 

I'd need a forest (or at least an alphabet) for the bracelet collection. 

New fave t-shirt states the obvious.

Break time with the obvious.

FP delivery containing the best denim vest since 1991. 

NDC Boots snagged on Gilt about a month ago. 

Envisioning some sort of flare-legged pant specially formulated to not need hemming.

Flea market here I come! Seeking fringe bottom pants...

Until then I'll settle for a nap.