“anybody who knows me knows i would never read a comic book.” // t. burton

medium-strung, though i can be – i’m not wound up so tight that i’m not able to lean back and have a good guffaw at my very own expense. i am a very funny girl, after all.

i’m susceptible to sarcasm, the occasional bit of wit, and well, a dose of self-deprecation taken on the hour. i’m an avid admirer of the ridiculous, the occasionally profane, and more often than not, the somewhat dirty. what i am not, however, is an enthusiastic admirer of the comic, of the strip variety.

the humor – too obvious, the illustrations too ridiculous, the colours too bright. i like having to dig a bit to find the funny, and with comics it’s all a bit too apparent. perhaps it’s there where you’ll find the reasons why i don’t enjoy being obvious in the way i dress. it’s too showy, too loud; all too apparent for those around to see it.

that doesn’t mean i don’t want to see you in it though.





➝ source : stars & lips clip-on earrings via stella mccartney

➝ source : red valentino eyes dress via farfetch

➝ source : pac-man sweatshirt via phillip plein

➝ source : all-over stickers crossbody via anya hindmarch

“life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.” // c.f. gauss

valentino pre-fall 2016, presented without comment:

valentino prefall16

okay. one comment: resplendent.

all images via

“we might knit that knot with our tongues that we shall never undo with our teeth.”// j. lyly

it’s been ages since i’ve stuck my feet tightly into my mouth.

the surprise isn’t that i have made these social gaffes; it’s that i haven’t in such a long while. it’s happened so many times before, when my head grows light, my cheeks grow flush with the awkwardness and heat of a thousand suns – and then my stomach knots itself into the recognized pretzel formation. then i go hide in the ladies for the rest of the night.

you’d think i’d know better than to bring it up – a forever jinx set in virtual stone. it’s just that i’m working with the statistics here, and quite plainly – if you add an increased number of functions with a definite rise in alcohol consumption, multiplied by  unknown extended family members – chances are rather high that i am, and let’s be honest – you too, are about to make incomparable asses out of ourselves.

the least one can do is dress appropriately, keep on smiling – and let it be known that those knots on the outside? they serve to complement the knots you feel on the inside.



proenza schouler

➝ source : oversized knot collar coat via msgm

➝ source : neoprene minidress via delpozo

➝ source : céline knot cuff via the realreal

➝ source : knot detail mules via proenza schouler

“it seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. there are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger for them.” // g. eliot

don’t be too quick to be fooled – mary anne evans knew of what she spoke – and called herself george so those who were prone to not take her seriously –would. and i, in turn, wouldn’t dream of taking her words lightly. so, if i were the wishing type, which i suppose i would call getting my hopes up – i’d be dropping hints all over the place so those keeping their ears to the ground wouldn’t have to guess to glean what i was longing for. it is, after all, a very valid point ms. evans made…





sense a theme? the heart wants what the heart wants…

→ source : all over triangle oversized cardigan via chinti & parker in collaboration with patternity

→ source : renee two-tone loafers via robert clergerie

→ source : oversized black sunglasses via linda farrow

→ source : swoon-worthy ‘these same stars’ silk scarf via rob ryan and available at etsy

published first in november 2013.


November 23, 2015

“i like nonfiction books about people with wretched lives.” // d. sedaris

i was once a voracious reader – the fatter the fiction, the better.

i was the girl that took all 1488 pages of vikram seth’s a suitable boy on a sun-shiny holiday – instead of sunning myself, i sat under the lushest palm i could find, to banish the tan i didn’t want, and to keep the sun out of my eyes so that i could read from the moment i had that first breakfast piña colada, to that last ruddy-cheeked moment in the breeze of the evening.

yet somewhere in the time between my late twenties and late – sorry, i lost my train of thought – i’ve become the unwilling bystander to the made-up, the far-fetched, to fantasy.

whether it’s having feet too firmly fit in earth to read about make-believe – non-fiction – essays, long-form articles, op-eds, memoirs and auto-and-solo-biographies are the only tales as of late that i have a taste, and time for. if it’s an allegory or fairy tale that i’m after, the closest i’m getting to that – is in the telling of histories of those who turned their imaginations inside out and into reality for themselves, and let everyone else around them be privy to their outcomes.










➝ source : hunger makes me a modern girl / by carrie brownstein

➝ source : an emergency in slow motion / the inner life of diane arbus by william todd schultz

➝ source : empress of fashion / by a.m. stuart

➝ source : the folded clock / by heidi julavits

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