For the past ten springs at least, I perform my weekly cleaning routine to the sounds of Astrud Gilberto and the scent of a Root candle in sampaguita. Warmer weather and a clean home make me happy as does the illusion that I’m experiencing the two in some tropical locale where people often don scarves and never wear flip-flops. The destination that inspires this is ambiguous even to me: somewhere with Brazil’s music and nightlife, the fashionable allure of the Cote d’Azur, and the beaches (and prices) of the Philippines, maybe? Continue reading
It’s inevitable: That moment in the day when I open my closet and sigh in utter disgust. I cannot lay blame on individual pieces for the disappointment. The potential to pair any of them lacks severely.
What am I most likely to do in this situation? Reach for jeans. And I kind of hate jeans. They’re so tight in my thunder zone (read, upper thighs). But I do have a new favorite to dust off for spring – my AG Simonas. They are buttery soft thanks to some mystery material called Lyocell, about 1/2 size too big, and lightweight so the pussycat can breath.
I believe firmly that if habits cannot change, but you wish to change your habits, work with them. Therefore, I will allow myself to reach for them more than conscience tells me I should; however, I will pair them with unfussy, simple, pretty things: few of which I own.
Although previously anti-clutch, I’m coming around to the idea of carrying less. Kind of like how I favor renting vs. owning a home. I don’t want more responsibility in life. I want less. Besides, aren’t we all renting?
Back to clutches. I have a sparse collection of mostly evening clutches. I want larger, sleeker daytime clutches. Cuffs are the only bold type of jewelry I can stand to wear anymore: I don’t know how many times I’ve bent over and almost taken my front teeth out with a chunky necklace. Plus, I’m puny and can’t deal with the extra weight around my neck. I recently ordered some sparkly but understated druzy earrings from GILT. I hope I like them because they are not returnable (which I prefer because I became caught in a refunded credit cycle with them that HAD TO STOP).
We’ve already covered my desperation for blouses.
My hubby and I have freshly returned from Asheville, NC. The crowds are smaller this time of year and springtime feels a little newer; like reliving the beginning of the season a little while longer before heading back to the heat and humidity of impending summer.
One Asheville gem is the footwear Mecca, Tops for Shoes. A trip to this store rekindled my desire for in-person service. I often dread shoe shopping at a place where you have to ask for a size. . . Continue reading