“a box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.” // j.r.r tolkien

the cliché is shoes.

ladies love LL choo j, we all have a bit of carrie in us, and we’ll take a pair of pumps over pretty much anything else (or is it jewelry and chocolate?); at least, i believe that’s the girly stereotype.

shoes are a difficult fit, and anyway – i’m not so much about jamming my feet into things as i am finding new totes and kits to jam all sorts of sundry in to. pockets, pouches, wallets and bags – i can’t seem to stop myself. i have more of them, than i have things to put into them. it’s a collection that has run rampant – i find them in every corner of the house – old wrappers, crumpled receipts, wayward mints and parking tickets i’ll be reminded to pay when i can’t renew my license in 2018 hidden inside of them. it’s a mess how i keep myself organized. but it’s an idiosyncrasy set so deep, i couldn’t possibly contemplate a change, unless of course, it’s to find myself another one.





➝ source : laura in red & black via mark cross

➝ source : grid stripe toiletry bag via leif shop

➝ source : dries van noten kaleidoscope bag via browns

➝ source : 202 factory neon clutch bag via opening ceremony

“good taste is the worst vice ever invented.” // e. sitwell

rationally, i understand that there’s no accounting for taste – that rarely does reasoning ever enter into the mix of the whos/whats/wheres and hows of what we find ourselves attracted to.

who knows why some of us love pizza like it’s a long lost lover, while others are engaged to be married to kale; why some hearts belong to colour and pattern, and other, more brooding hearts are beholden to only black.

and then there are those whose attraction has neither a rhyme nor a reason. it cannot be explained away with logic, defined by judgment, or be related to clear thinking. it’s just a personal preference, the way you’re wired, and there isn’t any such thing as a good or bad way to go about it. okay, there is, but i’m trying something new here and refraining from saying any of these things are in bad taste.

even though i really think they are.

i was sooooo close.



➝ source : mirror iphone case via moschino

➝ source : silk bomber jacket w/lace trim via lanvin

➝ source : ashish no bullshit sequined top via browns (i could’ve gone with these as well, because OMG: one direction jeans)

➝ source : tracksuit bottoms with bouclé trim, another gem via moschino

“with my sunglasses on, i’m jack nicholson. without them, i’m fat and 60.” // j. nicholson

i’m that odd sort that would rather take a walk in the middle of winter, then take a hike once the temperature starts flirting with temps higher than 21°C.

i find the cold more conducive to comfort, it appeases my absolute distaste of feeling overly warm and very nearly sweaty. (i sweat in the oddest of places – upper lip, lower back, entire face – what’s that about?), and it’s just not worth the aggravation nor the waste of my beloved becca pore perfector powder.

what one needs to take under consideration when on walkabout in colder climes, is that once you bundle up, there’s not much of you people can see. you’re obscured by toques, large scarves, bulky coats and gloves for miles. the only way you can differentiate yourself from everyone else while mummified in winter gear is to make sure your face stands out from under it all – you need to make sure your sunnies shout out what you’re all about.




➝ source : faithful sunnies in turquoise via karen walker

➝ source : afrodite sunnies via apro

➝ source : pigalle in turle blue via ahlem eyewear

➝ source : XVI sunnies in shattered tortoise via valley eyewear

“innocence is like polished armor; it adorns and defends.” // r. south

of the many adjectives one could use to illustrate the likes of my very own brand of ladyhood, dainty would not be included within that mix. i’m sure there’s a handful of you out there who’d say the same.

though rather soft in body, the armor i choose to adorn myself with is decidedly not – and it’s exactly that dichotomy that i like so much. that one, (me, you, everyone at some point), can be so resolutely woman, but put on a hard angle and a sharp corner, and we become a contradiction.

that widely held, but positively ancient definition of femininity becomes momentarily obsolete when it seems like that necklace you’re wearing doubles as a weapon. beware the lady, you don’t really how strong she is… until you do.




➝  source : mixed stones necklace via stella mccartney

➝  source : kelly ring via covet + keep

➝  source : braid 15 ring via eshvi

➝  source : resin & gilded metal bracelet via marni

“it is easy to display a wound, the proud scars of combat. it is hard to show a pimple.” // l. cohen

should i fall and hurt my ankle – i’ll see to it that you’ll hear about it. (FYI: i did about a month ago and everyone knew).

if i bump into something and bash my elbow, the howl you’ll hear will make for certain that i didn’t find that funny bone joke very funny at all. should i cut myself that one, rare evening i decided to julienne a vegetable – i’ll be sure to show you the wound.

should i wake and have a spot, (or a face-full of them as i do at the present), i’ll wish i could call the day off and hide under my duvet. when i had them at 14, it just seemed like the thing to do, everyone had them, so why shouldn’t i? yet, at this rather advanced age, you’d think i’d be more concerned about crow’s feet and sagging skin, but instead it’s the adolescent angst of bad and spotty skin and i’m not sure which one fate is worse.

ugh, whatever, i’m just going to listen to the cure and write really bad poetry about how nobody understands me.




➝ source : breakout spot-on treatment via dr. sebagh

➝ source : blemish clearing serum via juice beauty

➝ source : special healing powder via mario badescu

➝ source : beta hydroxy wash via peter thomas roth

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