onmytoes.

“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…

chinti&parkeallovertriangle

RCreneetwotone

OSLindaFarrowLuxe

thesesamestarsscarfrobryan

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.

“isn’t it awful that cold feet make for a cold imagination and that a pair of woolen socks induce good thoughts!” // f. grillparzer

as it approached 11pm the other night, (the hour that either propels me directly into bed, or compels me to throw caution to the wind and a solid 6 hours be damned); i hurriedly slipped into my dogged hightop vans, collared the dog – and out we went for a little business doing.

only when it was much too late to turn back – the odd 60/40/snow/rain mix was seeping into my unlaced trainers, mingling with now damp socks and increasingly frozen toes. the idiosyncrasies of winter sometimes catch me, and my feet, off guard. i’m forever concentrating on what’s on top, that i tend to leave what’s on the bottom out in the literal cold. it’s been years since i’ve worn appropriate footwear over the course of a winter – i have a feeling that i’ve cottoned on and in the nick of time – this time around.


coach

hunter llbean

miumiu

➝ source : urban hiker w/shearling via coach (coach?!)

➝ source : original quilted lace-ups via hunter

➝ source : bean boots, which, let’s be honest you won’t be able to get until sometime in 2019, via ll bean

➝ source : shearling-lined nubuck boots via miu miu (at $1700 they’re completely justifiable, right?)

“fashion has always been a repetition of ideas, but what makes it new is the way you put it together.” // c. herrera

i had one of those obnoxiously clichéd moments the other night while getting dressed to go out.

there, in front me, hung my entire wardrobe – and over the course of roughly fourteen minutes, i put on, changed out of, then tried on again – three different combinations of the what invariably ended up being the exact same outfit. top, middle, bottom – all black, roughly all cut of the same proportions; the only thing that was different that night was my frame of mind. i was just having one of those stereotypically girlish – i have nothing to wear! – moments.

when all was said and done, and the emotional upheaval that had occurred passed me by, i had to laugh. because, really – no one would notice if i was an outfit repeater. no one bat an eyelash if i chose to wear the same thing from one day to the next. the reason being – everything i wear basically looks the same. the formula of my choices are uniform. the plot twist exists in how i, (and you) – choose to put those ideas together. then, repeat.

bjorg

co neilbarrett robertclergerie

➝ source : a city of mirages necklace via bjørg

➝ source : co. ribbed wool & cashmere oversized sweater via net-a-porter

➝ source : neil barrett pop art star skirt via farfetch

➝ source : irma platform combat boots via robert clergerie

clog.

October 28, 2015

“the shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.” // c. jung

as per usual, when it comes to finding a solution to any sort of problem, whether existential or even more pressing, sartorial – i’m rather slow to the punch. for years i’ve blathered on about heels – the never wearing of them, not being able to walk whilst wearing them and the associated pain of attempting to do so; along with my deep affection for them – in that way you can adore something but want nothing to do with it. i’m trying to think of another example, and thus far, i’m stumped – i’ll circle back around if it comes to me.

but finally and mostly decisively, i’ve cottoned on.

a most terrible word, the sound of which perfectly sums up the din they make, but mercifully not the way they look (mostly) – the solution i’ve found?

the clog.

sturdy heeled, platformed to take the edge of the height, rounded of toe to allow for my soft and arched feet to be who they are, and just a wee bit contrary – which just serves to match up with the rest of me.

go on, have a good laugh. i don’t mind. i’ll just sit here and wait for the 70s to deliver unto me their shoe of choice.

no6jane

bryrcamilla

rachelcomeyfiero

rag&boneinez

➝ source : jane clog on platform in storm via no. 6

➝ source : camilla peep-toe via bryr

➝ source : fiero clog via rachel comey

➝ source : inez desert clog via rag & bone

“everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.” // s. wright

taking into consideration my last meditation in this space, you wouldn’t blame me for hopping on a flight and taking a 48 hour reprieve from reality, could you? ninety minutes later and i touched-down in the completely alternate universe of NYC. if you ever needed to get out of your own head, i suggest heading directly into the belly of that beast.

i spent the first day walking around soho – mostly sticking close to what i knew and keeping close watch of the time, i had plans to be somewhere by 8.

the next morning – i set out early, in a pair of high-top vans, thankfully lighter than the double-soled wulfrun creepers i wore the day before. soho for breakfast, a spin around broadway, walking as far as i could before cutting it close on my tickets to the whitney. by late afternoon – i had walked a good stretch, thankful for the trainers i shoved into my bag at the last minute, but rather envious of what seemed to be the shoe of new yorkers on the move – or the tourists who love them.


nikeinternationalistbluenikeinternationalistwhitenikeinternationalistorange

nikeinternationalistblack

all of ’em – nike internationalist

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