“i never play without my cape.” // b. lugosi
it’s exactly ten days away now and i feel like it’s time for me to be perfectly clear : i loathe halloween.
i’m all for treats, i’ll give you my chocolate for all your single-serve, teeny packs of chips – and/or a trick if you’re feeling particularly contrary.
i loved it when i was small, when my costume of choice was either boy george, (there, that’s me showing my age), or a very politically incorrect ‘bag-lady‘ – forgive me, things were different in the ’80s. i’d hide my booty-filled pillowcase from my brother and continue on dipping into my treasure for the foreseeable future.
but something happened after roughly the age of 12 where even the thought of wearing a get-up that was not my own, or very much of me, would send me running, and give me the chills. the thought alone was a spooky halloween unto itself. the lucky thing is, though i never thought i could save the world – the wearing of a cape never seemed a costume to me, but a rather practical, yet intensely stylish part of my wardrobe. perhaps i missed out on dressing up like a superhero somewhere along the way?
➝ source : ‘biker’ cape by comme des garçons via storm fashion
➝ source : ‘gaia’ cape via vivienne westwood anglomania
➝ source : étoile isabel marant raquel patchwork knitted cape by via net-a-porter
➝ source : cashmere felt cape via rick owens
“organizing is what you do before you do something, so that when you do it, it is not all mixed up.” // a.a. milne
there lies a streak in me, one that feels compelled to make magazines align themselves at a 90° angle, perfectly stacked, spines straight.
a band of discord that makes it impossible for me to walk past a kitchen sink with an unwashed glass still in it; there will be soap, there will be clean glassware. there is a vein that runs through me that demands an impression of organization, so that there is at least, a modicum of methodology running amongst the tumult – the opposing side of me that procrastinates, that collects, and neglects order in favour of sentimentality.
i’m a very complicated lass, (but aren’t we all?)
so, for those moments when order wins the battle, at least a bit of fetching frippery can make the existential angst worth it.
➝ source : fierzo desk tray via alessi
➝ source : city sunday magazine rack via minus tio
➝ source : nest office caddy by umbra shift via a + r store
➝ source : another desktop series via another country
“being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.” // s. freud
the brutal truth, and trust that my hips can attest, i hate to exercise.
wait, no – that’s a lie.
what i hate is being conscious of the fact that i am exercising.
place me in a gym environment and though i’ll get through it – i’ll be paying more attention to the timer counting down to that sweet number, the one that spells my escape; the countdown to zero becomes more important than the pace i set. i want out, and what’s more – it makes me think i’ve done something that deserves a doughnut. it’s so wrong, on so many levels.
that’s why i’m going to take a walk. i mean, like, walk-walk. i know it’s the favourite of pensioners everywhere, but i think they’ve got a few years and a bit of wisdom on me – and that’s why you see them, in droves, in brightly-hued track-pants, pacing the malls, in parks – everywhere, taking a brisk walk.
i’m going to get on that – but first, i’m just going to add a pair of trainers to set me aside from the early-birders.
➝ source : stella boost II via stella mccartney
➝ source : MM6 silvery low-tops via shoescribe
➝ source : air zoom elite 7 via nike
➝ source : samoa adidas orginals via net-a-porter
“sanity is a cozy lie.” // s. sontag
trust, that when i say i’ve spent a long time thinking about the fall – that it’s meant at the very height of sincerity.
there’s a list of things that i adore – not in the way i adore a nude lip, or a slice of cheese pizza, a favourite song turned up on high, while i rev down a street; or even the way i love an iced coffee and a salty chip – but in the way i love to hear someone i love howl with laughter, find the most perfect gift, (quite possibly for that very same person), or how i love to hear the moppet sing, or the smell of her damp hair after the requisite saturday swim class; or even the way my dog demands a literal tête-à-tête, immediately upon my coming home.
it’s that sort of deep adoration that comes with comfort, with an ease that seems as if it were steeped in you. that’s what a good october is for me – it’s a tucked up moment in time that, although fleeting, is just the most absolute ideal, hurriedly walking past – right into winter.
it’s cozy to be sure, but quick.
➝ source : sequin embellished faux-fur coat via carven
➝ source : loop antra scarf via humanoid
➝ source : fur-lined convertible mittens via kenzo
➝ source : philly sweater via hope stockholm
i’m grateful that i don’t have to prepare (or eat!) a turkey, that i don’t have to host a dinner for 20, and clean up after them. i’m grateful that i’m still in my jams and that showering may be an option i’ll politely decline today, and that if i decide to sit on my bum watching season after season of the cosby show – for the entirety of the day, I CAN, and no one can flutter an eyelash. it’s a good day to eat some toast, and drink a lot of coffee.
i’m giving thanks, y’all – what are you thankful for?
“there’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.” // s. beckett
i couldn’t tell you why, but i’ve gone off sandals.
during this past summer, i maybe tied them around my ankles and showed off my toes maybe thrice – it was a plimsoll summer; a pedicure only meant that i was tired of staring at my fred flintstone paws, and aimed at getting them a bit closer to a wilma.
now that these puppies have greeted the cooler temps, it’s time to break out the forever favourites – the creepers, the penny loafers – the ankle boots, (chelsea, moto, etc.), oh, it’s just the most, isn’t it? the footwear options for autumn are just one more reason why this time of year is my very best-loved season – everything is better in the fall.
➝ source : ankle boots via robert clergerie
➝ source : around the world suede boots via asos
➝ source : chloe ‘drew’ chelsea boots via biondini paris
➝ source : fiorentini + baker moto boots via gravity pope
“eros will have naked bodies; friendship naked personalities.” // c.s. lewis
there is something quite wonderful about letting go one or two cases of heavy humiliation that one (me) carries around with them, from roughly the age of 12 or so.
never a prude, but far from an extrovert – what was mine was mine, and i chose to share whatever level of bare i wanted to, with whom i wanted to – but did i dare a naked face? in pubic? well, i never!
years on, and the only thing that stands in the way of setting out into the world with a starkers complexion – is time. it’s an immeasurable irony that the moment one should probably think better of going out without a stitch of concealer on is the exact moment when getting out of bed seems an absolute impossibility. therein lies my conundrum.
does one choose ten more minutes of shut-eye, or do you fake low-maintenance and just head out on a hope and a prayer with a simple slick of mascara?
the choice will ultimately be yours – but make it easier on yourself by going out in the raw a bit less of a shock to the system – and prepare thyselves!
➝ source : detox brightening fizzy powder wash via nude skincare
➝ source : black magic mascara via eyeko
➝ source : shimmering skin perfector via becca cosmetics
➝ source : hepburn honey lipstick via charlotte tilbury