“confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not understood.” // h. miller

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was cold, then not, humid, then not; heating is being forced on high, and i’m feeling like i’ve been wrapped in cling film and forced to sit in a car wash.

to make it plain – i have no idea what i’m meant to wear. too cold yet for spring, too warm already for winter wools, i’m making a case for layers, a million millefeuilles that i’m able to peel off and put back on whenever the need strikes.

march you’ve become confused, a temperamental little bitch and you’ve begun to drive me up my very own sweaty walls.



CDG Herno


➝ source : shroud jacket via rick owens

➝ source : comme des garçons waterfall jacket via farfetch

➝ source : reversible padded jacket via herno

➝ source : hooded trench coat via bassike


“the reinvention of daily life means marching off the edge of our maps.” // b. black

i really appreciate the fine art of a do-over.

a time, a moment, a beginning that strolled along well-enough until something, or someone gave their head a shake, and had a change of heart and started fresh. i sometimes feel that we become so tied to a concept, or an idea of who and what we are, that we don’t give making a change a fair shake. i mean, just because you started off doing one thing, doesn’t necessarily mean that that’s going to be the end-game until the end of your game.

i thought my winning piece would be somewhere, somehow writing, (what – i don’t know), i instead did everything in-between and did this wee bit thing on the side. a million years from where i started, i am, what i very-tongue-in-cheekly call, an entrepreneur-lite, running a teensy business, and who ever saw that coming should’ve clued me in because, who knew?

and that’s why it gives me just a little jolt of joy when someone, particularly someone who found success elsewhere, decided that ‘nope – this is no longer for me’, turned around, made a switch and decided to reinvent themselves… and found fulfillment somewhere new.

the row title A

A Single Man poster

victoria:victoria beckham

➝ source : multi-pouch wristlet via the row [you know who they are.]

➝ source : monkey pleat dress via title a [former model, agyness deyn’s line]

➝ source : a single man, tom ford‘s directorial debut

➝ source : cotton poplin dress via victoria/victoria beckham [zig-a-zig-ah]

“she wore too much eyeliner then, at age thirteen, and now, at eighteen, she wears so much black under her eyes, she looks like a slutty linebacker raccoon.” // a.s. king

in high school, i’d make like siouxsie sioux. no finesse, not an ounce of try, just flawless teenaged angst.

my eyes would look as dark as the cure, and as deep as depeche mode. with some bit of irony, it made me happy. my eyes – the darker, the kohl-ier, were all the better. later, i’d be björk-lite – little dots by the outer corners of my eyes. i could go along with some part of whimsy, too, you know. it wasn’t all doom and gloom, i just looked the part for a while.

as time has gone on, i can’t say i’ve traveled far from the black lined eye. it’s changed some, a little finesse has been added to the mix, the lines are more defined, the flick at the outer corners a little less pointy. i suppose age has softened me some – but let’s be honest, i don’t want to scare the other first graders in my daughters class, and more to the point, it all goes a little bit pear-shaped and smudged by roughly 2pm. but if i could, for just an afternoon, i’d make a run to the grocery store with wings as big as hummingbirds with crystals attached; just for fun.

Anthony Vaccarello


Marc Jacobs

Dries van noten

top to bottom // beauty looks from:

 anthony vaccarello / burberry / marc jacobs / dries van noten

photos via vogue.com


“happiness is an inside job.” // w.a. ward

and so it goes, that roughly twelve to fourteen months pass by and in a constant whirl of day and night, night and day, school runs, and inventory buys, that i find myself sitting here, on a grey, and about-to-be unspeakably snowy day, and the interwebs knits itself larger and larger, and down i go, into the furthest reaches of virtual bliss. and no, it’s not that, because, ew, but of course it finds things to show me, and the wants set in.

to my credit, i haven’t purchased a personal item beyond the very necessary for as long as i can remember. there have been no new clothes, no new shoes, barring the one pair i needed for a holiday party, because to be perfectly honest, i had only scuffed creepers and worn plimsolls to my name – and those wouldn’t quite cut it. and so, what is it that i naturally gravitate to, what is it that i find most compelling? of course, it’s that one thing i can hide all my other things in.

sometimes i wish i was a shoe-girl, but then i remember they’re not worth the grief. i like that i can hide a little happiness-to-spare found in the bag i throw across my shoulder, day in and day out.


pierre hardy Screen Shot 2016-03-01 at 10.42.49 AM

➝ source : rockstud crossbody via valentino

➝ source : saddle bag via coach

➝ source : pierre hardy ‘alpha’ crossbody bag via farfetch

➝ source : pod bag via marni


February 26, 2016

“i always loved aesthetics. not particularly fashion, but an idea of beauty.” // m. prada

the wanting of a prada bag has never been stronger. we can talk about the clothes later:








all images via vogue

A Wee Bit All rights reserved
Design by Ana Degenaar + Development by Brandi Bernoskie