“spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.” // d. larson

it was a -4°C and i swear it felt positively balmy.

in that one sunny saturday afternoon, it almost – almost felt like we were nearing the end; that in the next twenty days it’ll take to get us to the vernal equinox, we may actually feel a spring, not only in our steps – but in the very fact that we won’t need those extra three layers, and instead just need one. (let’s disregard the fact that we had a snowstorm yesterday).

a toque will be required merely for hipster benefit or bad hair days, and scarves can become cottoned, in lieu of wooled. it also means that i can see on the horizon a dropping off of heavy coats – they’re filthy with salt, slush and dust from the construction site i currently live on.

is there a certain giddiness, a sing-songy lilt to the way i’m typing these words? it’s possible.

spring fever is nigh, y’all.





➝ source : cape parka via zara

➝ source : bay oversize coat via henrik vibskov

➝ source : single breasted coat via carven

➝ source : moto quilted denim jacket via topshop

“if you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?” // t.s. eliot

if this were the case, then surely i’d stand taller than 5’2″?

as this has been my rather abbreviated history since roughly the age of 16 and three-quarters, (i started in on coffee and cigarettes at around the same time), but even barring those vices – genetics were never going to get me much taller than your next door neighbour’s shrubbery. i’ve forever been rather diminutive in stature, but rather large in personality – and in circumference of both hip and hair.

and truth be told, i’ve never cared about being short. if my biology has failed me, it’s that i lack whatever gene that affords you a metabolism, and whatever molecule helps maintain a healthy level of sarcasm. if i happened to wear a shoe that came with a heel higher than an inch or two, it wasn’t for the added elevation, but for the drama therein.

so, of course i’ll forego the stiletto – and opt for a platform that is certain to make my ankles nervous. like most of my shoes – we go big, or we don’t go anywhere at all.





➝ source : miu miu suede platforms via net-a-porter

➝ source : two-tone leather sandals via marni

➝ source : elyse platform shoes via stella mccartney

➝ source : silver wedge heels via rick owens

“question everything. every stripe, every star, every word spoken. everything.” // e. gaines

do you believe in the power of the stripe?

if there was any one pattern that could unify the world, (sartorial only), in peace and understanding, it would be, in no uncertain terms, the stripe.

whether you lean on the side of the prep, the punk, the princess, the avant-garde, or land’s end MOR – i’d hazard a bet that you’ll discover a universe of stripes, breton or otherwise in those wardrobes – in those considered to be at the zenith of trend-setting, and in those who think clothes are a bore. the lure of the stripe is strong, people – and if we can take any solace from this one little fact; at least we know that the stripe can bring us together…





➝ source : msgm striped dress via far fetch

➝ source : striped jacket via stella jean

➝ source : striped oversized shirt via etro

➝ source : perforated striped skirt via drome



“if you can’t do the little things right, you will never do the big things right.” // w.h. mcraven

it is a view commonly held, that life is lived in the details.

it’s in the minutiae of our every day – that beauty becomes apparent, that happiness is found; and if you’re really looking up close – you’ll find whatever it is you happen to be looking for.

for me, i’ve found that it’s precisely when i’m looking through the hit list of togs meant for much littler people than you and i, that it dawns on me – i find myself coveting the pretty in those smallest of details –  and of the clothing options my moppet really couldn’t care less about.

the crux of it all is, i’m looking at these things, these little bitty clothes meant for children, and i want them, rather badly, for myself.

so, if all these little things are being done so right, i’m asking why, why can’t they be made big?





➝ source : short-sleeve anorak via j.crew

➝ source : bobo choses vintage bikini via fawn shoppe

➝ source : franky grow sweater dress via thumbeline

➝ source : trax jumper via caroline bosmans

“dig your well before you’re thirsty.” // s. godin

it’s delightful, isn’t it?

that continuing crunch of snow underneath your warmest mukluks, that initial breath of crisp, cold air hitting your lungs, that sting of wind hitting your face and making your eyes tear up.

you’d think that with so much frozen water laying about, it wouldn’t be as arid as the sahara. but, my hands are rough and red – alluding to a lifetime of hauling rig, instead of doing the washing up in elbow length gloves. my face is pinked, patchy and scaly; and my hair has a certain crunch to it, that one would rather hear while watching a movie, than when trying to stuff it into a hat.

it’s getting desperate around these parts – my skin is starting to be able to smooth down drywall, it’s texture is so like sand paper. if none of these fancy oils work, i’m heading straight downstairs to the kitchen pantry, and instead of salads and roasting veg, i’m going to start basting myself in some high quality evoo.





➝ source : certified organic rosehip oil via trilogy

➝ source : vitamin e cuticle oil pen via nails inc.

➝ source : luna sleeping night oil via sunday riley

➝ source : OI/ absolute beautifying potion via davines

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