“clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” // r. tagore
if you’ve ever strayed to my instagram account, you’ll find that there is no narrative to speak of or,, any thread binding those images together; but more than that, you’ll notice that i seem to spend an inordinate amount of time looking up at the sky.
without much thought as to why – i seem to crane my neck upwards and much to my chagrin, there’ll be a flock of birds flying overhead – or all in a row on a wire. catching birds in flight just makes me happy. but what seems to make me giddier still, is a mass of full, white clouds in a sky of deep blue. it may be mundane, and a relative constant when the gray is at bay, but there’s just something so gorgeous about the way light hits a gathering of clouds against a backdrop of blue – banal perhaps, but nevertheless, very true.
➝ source : kenzo cloud print coat via another love
➝ source : cloud print crop top via choies
➝ source : carven print skirt via elle uk
➝ source : cloud print knit leggings via tsumori chisato
“we are our choices.” // j.p. sartre
i’m not really sure what i was thinking yesterday. perhaps it was just a momentary lack of judgement on my part, or i just forgot myself, and where i was for a moment.
i didn’t want to wear my black, heavy-leather stompers – the ones that are rugged and more or less waterproof, those that can be worn in the muck and slush without fear of ruining them – a baby-wipe, (which one invariably ends up having in the house way past the time your so-called baby (now four), needs ‘wiping’), will do the trick for any salt and sundry stain.
instead, i chose to wear a pair of suede single sole creepers. suede. it was dry out when i left, the curbs were gray with aged snow, but the walks were clear. and yet. not two hours later an accumulation of big, soft flakes were impossible to avoid. and now, in the corner of my eye, i see them drying – water-stains signifying my poor life choices. i yearn for the day when i can wear a flat without fear, that i can don a suede shoe without unease – oh, to the day i can put on a shoe without putting on a pair of tights and thick socks first.
you wouldn’t happen to have any idea when that might be, would you?
➝ source : sonia rykiel loafers via shoescribe
➝ source : checkerboard slip-ons via vans
➝ source : cut-out brogues via minimarket
➝ source : miu miu printed ballet flat via net-a-porter
“it’s dreadful what little things lead people to misunderstand each other.” // l.m. montgomery
it’s merely a trifle, this small bit of confusion, and yet – i still find myself scratching my head in need of an answer.
when i was in high school – trying to wedge myself on the bus to get home, there were those who wore the shoulder-slung messenger bag, and those who wore the backpack – and in all seriousness, it was a bit like the jets vs. the sharks getting myself home. those who carried a messenger had their feet planted on terra firma, and the backpackers seemed a bit bubble-headed, a bit oblivious. instead of one, they took up the space of two surly teenagers, and if they tried to turn to say an exaggerated ‘OMG!’ to a friend, you were in danger of being knocked out and over.
two decades later and i’m still in a shade of misunderstanding – i just don’t get the appeal of the backpack. what’s more, when the bag has taken a turn toward the luxe and prices are heading into the $3K range (chanel, i’m looking at you) – it all just seems a bit high school.
➝ source : ps small backpack via proenza schouler
➝ source : marti backpack in rhodium via alexander wang
➝ source : a $1000! cotton! canvas! dollar sign! printed pack by saint laurent via browns fashion
➝ source : now, for the $3,400 art school backpack, that looks like that, via chanel
“my life looked good on paper – where, in fact, almost all of it was being lived.” // m. amis
i vowed years ago, when the rise of e-readers, tablets and smartphones became ever apparent, that i would keep close the books and lined pages of paper – with sticky bindings weighed heavy with ink – and books with their creak of hardcovers and the dog-earring of pages. words printed on paper just seemed to carry with them an importance, a weight of intimacy that i imagined were secrets i’d carry with me everywhere and for… ever.
then of course, my back started to hurt. and the phone got smarter than me, the tablet got a mini version and well, i’m a sucker for the kawaii electronic device. and though i do rely an awful lot on electricity, 140 characters and touch-screens to get me through my day, i can’t deny the lure of paper, a brightly-hued pen, and a little bit of that retro feel… a note scribbler i remain.
➝ source : rifle paper co.’s garance doré collection, available this spring via rifle paper co.
➝ source : hay colour notes via finnish design shop
➝ source : numbers jotter via present & correct
➝ source : vivid pens via mochi things
“the more you lose yourself in something bigger than yourself, the more energy you will have.” // n.v. peale
i’m sure mr. peale was speaking of loftier topics than the clothes we choose to wear – but i definitely think he’s got a point.
things that fit close to the body, that cling to the skin – in all honesty, make me all twitchy. if you (read: me), have any more than 3% self-awareness or self-consciousness, those garments end up more like a magnifying glass, exposing every idiosyncrasy and every doubt – a laser-like beam of light on every part of softness that makes you question whether you’re wonderfully feminine, or if your foundation garments have let you down.
it doesn’t matter whether you’re slender or zäftig – if you’re not wholly comfortable with your body/con, you’re not going to be able to fool anyone into thinking you are. i say, if you’re anything like me, keep them guessing. go for a swim in something oversized, lose yourself in something bigger than you are, and let the mind wander.
the imagination is infinitely more interesting than reality anyway.
➝ source : lasaine dress in white via shaina mote
➝ source : yang li oversized tunic via henrik vibskov
➝ source : double-cuff oversized shirt via alexander mcqueen
➝ source : y’s oversized pajama top via lagarçonne
“lust’s passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.” // m. de sade
it’s not a secret that i’m at the whim of my wants.
it’s not that i don’t have the strength to stand up against my appetites, if the mood strikes – and a simple tube of lipgloss beckons, i’ll bend to its will. i am not however, one to easily swoon for each and every runway collection. i like quite a few, i can be dazzled by a handful, but to have a visceral reaction, a physiological response; to find myself lusting for collection of clothes is a rare occurrence.
but now, that rare day has come – i sit here and shake my head, feeling a deep longing in my very core. dries van noten’s last fall/winter 2014 collection, it’s made me feel guilty every time i look at my husband.
➝ source : fall/winter 2014 dries van noten – all images via style.com
“even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.” // c. brontë
were you lulled into false sense of security? was it mid-afternoon on saturday, and with the sun shining brightly, did you think, squinting through your sunglasses; it’s sunny, it’s fleetingly balmy, could it be – could this be the quiet, and seemingly disinclined entrance of spring?
no one would aver a yea or nay, but i do know that the weather prompted me away from over-zealous parka, and into my woolen, 50s style cocoon coat, replete with three-quarter length sleeves. it might’ve been too early yet, but it didn’t stop me from having daydreams of light spring jackets, and poplin raincoats. can you believe it? this winter has made me lust for spring.
i’m not sure who the person in the mirror staring back at me is sometimes…
➝ source : postalco rain cape in green via mill mercantile
➝ source : herno hood jacket via far fetch
➝ source : transparent lafayette cape via terra new york
➝ source : polka detail swing coat via the whitepepper