Posts from February 2015

“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

“never wear your best trousers when you go out to fight for freedom and truth.” // h. ibsen

to be fair, i haven’t worn a pair of trousers since roughly 2005.

when my waistline allowed for it though, i did enjoy what i declared the grandpa pant. i enjoyed wearing them low on the hips, loose in the thigh, and allowed the bottoms to be dragged on sidewalks, because of course i wore them with my beloved shell-toe adidas superstars. it was the easiest wash and go spring-time uniform i knew. it was also the last time i bared a midriff in polite company,… and have i mentioned that i miss my not-so distant past?

the thing is, should my hips ever narrow, and my waist accommodate, i’d hazard wearing them again. i enjoyed that look of the widest trousers ever, ones you think you could almost take flight in, paired with my 1000 x washed blur concert tees and a pair of trainers.

wait, is it 2015 or am i just regressing?







➝ source : asymmetric cocoon shaped trousers via comme des garçons

➝ source : wide leg pants via maiyet

➝ source : drop crotch cropped trousers via rick owens

➝ source : toga lace-trimmed crepe trousers via matches

“if you ask me what I came into this life to do, i will tell you: i came to live out loud.” // e. zola

question : are we feeling a little bit inhibited, or have we become so accustomed to the ability to say anything we want, (within a 140 character context), and whenever we want, that we feel the need to extend that into and onto our attire?

i just ask because i don’t think i recall ever having seen so many words being splayed out on so many items of wear. it’s not a complaint, as when it’s done winningly, i kind of find the whole thing charming; but then i admit that the thought of wearing or toting around someone else’s witty or adorable sentiment makes me ultimately, rather uncomfortable.

just as being inconspicuous in my manner of dress excludes me from wearing a name-brand visibly across my chest, or a logo embossed on the bag i carry, i get muddled in the thought of whether i’m being bewitched by the charm of the thing, or being cleverly played by the brand. and so it comes to this – i like the look of it, and i’ll wax on about it here, but that’s where the story will most likely end.





➝ source : ‘i love it’ clutch bag via anya hindmarch

➝ source : tsumori chisato love hem dress-shirt via far fetch

➝ source : banana print t-shirt via natasha zinko

➝ source : printed pencil skirt via burberry prorsum

“winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.” // v. hugo

if you make like a bear during winter, and never looked or went outside, (east and north of california), you wouldn’t be faulted for thinking that spring was just around the corner.

every shop window and magazine cover at the moment is showing bare legs instead of pale, goose-bumped skin – windswept hair in the sun, instead of static-y, toque-limp mops; faces covered in the fiercest sunnies, shielding squinting eyes – instead of them protecting your eyesight from cold wind and ice-drifts. we’re being torn in two – the reality of it being obscenely wintery and the pull of needing it to be spring.

the only consolation prize is that you can fake a sunny glow, before you’re able to bare an ankle or two. let spring spring on your face, while the rest of you waits to catch up.







➝ source : big bang illusion lip gloss in space via lipstick queen

➝ source : nail varnish in misty morning via deborah lippmann

➝ source : highlighter in radiance via kjaer weis

➝ source : koh gen do maifanshi cheek colour in pale pink via b-glowing

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