My Favorite Things: Boots

You know what we haven't talked about yet?

Boots.

I really don't know how we got this far without discussing them.

Boots are very near and dear to my heart. I'm the girl who wears them until July. I'm not gonna lie; they're kind of the backbone of my wardrobe. I'm also very loyal to my boots. I wear them until they literally cannot be worn any more. The heels have to break off or the soles have to slip off before I let a pair go.

In my move of epic proportions, I had to leave a pair or two at home, but I do have some of my favorite pairs here with me.

First up I have my black M&S boots. I got these in London about four years ago when I was studying abroad there. It was a day that started out sunny and then began pouring down rain. Naturally, I was in flats. So I ran into Marks and Spencer (M&S) and literally grabbed these off the rack. I've been wearing them incessantly ever since.

Then theres my Frye boots. These babies have been with me since freshman year of college. I found them after stalking them on ebay for... longer than I'd like to admit. Long story short, I got a pair of (admittedly used) $300 pair of boots for just over $100. Then they arrived and, miraculously, they fit me perfectly. And when I say perfectly I mean I'm pretty sure those clouds in that pixar short made them and the storks delivered them to my door. They really are the most perfect stacked heel boots a girl could hope for. They've worn in so nicely, with those fantastic slouches around the ankle that make me feel like Lauren Hutton or Angelica Huston circa 1970 (AKA freakin' fabulous).

Finally there are my Madewell boots. These were a birthday present from my grandparents, Grandma & Bumpa. My grandma loves shoe shopping, so I sent her pictures through the selection process, which might have been the most fun part. I knew I needed flat riding boots for the day when heels were just a little too much. I went to Madewell because I love their clean style (and I like to pretend I can afford beautiful %50 t shirts), and I was looking for something versatile without too many bells and whistles. Don't get me wrong; I love me some hardware, but it has it's time and place, y'know? Anywho, I saw these, tried them on, and fell instantly. The leather is beautiful and soft and they make a satisfying click. I started calling them my Han Solo boots because of how kick-ass they make me feel. That, and I wanted to name something after the coolest Harrison Ford character.

The thing that makes me love these boots so much is simple. I love them because they can all go anywhere. They have all been to parties, to work, to class, to family reunions, to Paris, you name it. All of them look amazing with any outfit, are comfortable enough to wear all day, and make me fell, well, fabulous. And isn't that what boots are supposed to be?

Wish List: City Prints

Theres a blank space on my wall.

It's so sad, like a duckling that just cant catch up with her siblings or the dog that legitimately can't understand why he can't catch his tail.

Naturally, I wandered over to etsy to find a little something to make my wall feel a little less sad. And I found something. A few somethings, actually:

I love them so much. I want to get one for each city I've lived in (plus Paris). Now the only question is... do I get all the same series OR do I do all different?

Quandaries...

Dress is More: Teal Maxi

This is one of my favorite impulse buys. I found it at Forever 21 while in line to check out. I didn't think I was much of a maxi dress person at the time, but there was something about this one. Now it's one of my go-to dresses; it was even my graduation dress. So I guess it goes to show that going with your gut is usually right (when it comes to clothes, at least.) I wore it on the plane ride home with a little gray cardi and my Frye harness boots. Needless to say, I looked awesome.
Or at least I think I did.

Bye, New York!

It's been quite a ride. 

I'll catch you on the flip side...

Coney Island is Great. And Fishes Too!!!

I went on an adventure this past weekend to the magical land of Coney Island. It was filled with fried food, otters, and random people. You'll see what I mean in a minute.
I went with my Big from college (we were in the same sorority) and we had way too much fun.
Our first stop was Nathan's for some deep fried goodness

I have an obsession with french fries. We have a long and loving history and my love for them never wavers; it's an extension of my devotion to the humble potato. But more about that later.

After filling ourselves with fries, corn dogs, root beer and orange soda (that's right,) we took a stroll on the boardwalk to see what we could find. The best thing was the tiny dancing man, wearing a straw boater, black jazz pants, a black beaded bolero jacker and big white fluffy gloves. You now; as you do.

We also made the excellent life choice of stopping by the New York Aquarium. It reminded me that there are few things I enjoy more than a romp with the fishes. I just love aquariums. here are some of the fishes and animals I got to see!

All in all, it was a great way to spend my last sunday in New York for a while; fishes, friends, and fried food.





And this guy.

Wish List: Airplane Essentials

You know how celebrities always have that magical product they love that makes all those long flights better? Well here's my wish list for if I was much fancier when I fly...

origins no puffery; rosebud salve; l'occitane cuticle cream; masque*ology brightening mask; mural oil-control mattifier; hello kitty bag

jcrew cashmere hoodie; jcrew minnie twill pants; hermes scarf; kate spade bon shopper; ipad

I would also like it if Stephen Fry would follow me around in his Jeeves costume and bring me martinis. And be my best friend.

very good, miss... 

Just the best friend part would work too.


(hint hint).

Puppy Love

As I was packing today, it occurred to me that I won't be living with dog dogs once I settle in Milwaukee. So I decided to show off the snuggly little pups I've had the pleasure of living with this year.

Dress is More: Black Chiffon Shirt

This is one of my favorite pieces: my american apparel black chiffon button down with nude collars and cuffs. One of my roommates snagged this for me at a sample sale and it has since been a prized possession. Today I paired it with my Old Navy cutoffs from freshman year and my trusty kick-ass ankle boots. I'm not gonna lie: I looked pretty badass.

Dress is More: Purple Maxi

Outfit time!

I am obsessed with this purple maxi dress. It fits so well. I added a brown leather belt on the hips, straw hat and retro sunglasses from the Brooklyn flea and embraced the hot weather, choosing to be dewy (read: NOT sweaty. Definitely NOT a euphemism for sweaty.) Perfect for a lazy casual brunch, wouldn't you say?

dress, forever 21; sunglasses, brooklyn flea; hat, angela & william

Packing Buddies

I have some helpers.

I was packing, with the dogs (Buddha, the black one, Matzah, the blonde one, and Hobbes, the ginger,) stared me down from my bed. Settled under my blankets, they gazed at me with sad disbelief as I folded and stuffed and sorted. Once I put the quilt in, though, the mood shifted. Buddha and Hobbes hopped right in and made themselves at home.

  And I decided to take a packing break.

i can has come too?

Moving... again and the Shove-Shame Spiral

SO I'm leaving New York.

I know.
 But I finally woke up from my post-grad haze, looked around and said "what the hell am I doing here?!?" So I applied to a bunch of jobs all over. Then, found out one of my best friends from college needed a roommate. A month later, here I am with a job, friends, cheese curds and apartment all waiting for me in Milwaukee. Im pleased with how things have unfolded.

 Now, all this is good an well. But it leaves the horrible truth that I must, once again, pack my belongings and drag it all to the glorious cheese state. This means packing.

this is not what me packing looks like.

I am no moving novice; this is not my first rodeo. I'm a California girl who went to school in the midwest, which necessitated packing and moving my crap across the country twice a year. Still, after four years and countless hours of sorting and folding and stuffing and cursing*, I am still not very good at packing.I truly and deeply loath packing. More accurately, I hate the last 10% of packing when you keep finding crap you couldn't fit in that last suitcase or box. I call this roller coaster of emotion the shove-shame spiral. It starts about two thirds of the way though the packing process.

 At this point, you've packed you're favorite things. There are no more sleigh bells, no more mittens; you're down to the stuff you honestly kind of forgot about. You tell yourself, great! A chance to cull your belongings and finally free yourself from consumerism! You can live that minimalist life you've always dreamed of! (Or thought about vaguely before shrugging and watching chopped instead). You can be that lady picking flowers! You can have a white couch! You can go to the farmers market! You can LIVE the anthropology dream!!! And then a dust bunny cheerily floats across your room.

This is when it hits you that you have to CLEAN after you pack. Thus begins the shove-shame spiral. Suddenly, you get itchy from the dust and you realize how long its been since you showered. Whats that smell? Good God: it's you. You catch a glimpse in the mirror. You're not glowing from exercise like you supposed; you're tired and haggard form working! Thats it. WORST DAY EVER.

After this you pout for about an hour, occasionally picking things up and playing with them, briefly forgetting your woe until you look around you and remember your cursed fate. A glimpse at the clock makes you realize how much time you've wasted. Defeated, you throw up your hands like you're mom told you to stand up straight. FINE, self; I'll keep packing.

 Then you put on "Into the Woods" or "Wizard of Oz" and start just shoving stuff into boxes or already-full suitcases. Before the first act is half way though, you're done and still feeling a little resentful.

 Then you remember about bacon and happily skip off.

"yaaaaay!!!! bacon!!!!"

 So that's my usual packing ritual. To be fair, this has always been done when I have literally 24 hours between my last final and my flight. But not this year. I'm going to outsmart the shove-shame spiral this year by giving myself a whole week to pack instead of the post-finals flurry I'm accustomed to. With luck, determination and a LOT of musicals, I will pack up my things and live to tell the tale.





 *(and one unfortunate time when the storage at school was all filled up. I thought my things would have to be abandoned like puppies in a box on the highway and i melted into a puddle of tears in the very center dorm hallway on top of my sad boxes at 2am. not my proudest moment.)