old lady in braids: to trust or not to trust? that is the question

I read somewhere once that women over 30 shouldn't wear braids unless they were stylishly loose and messy.

 

 shoes: Converse
jeans: Kohl's
cobalt v-neck tee: J. Crew
pastel striped cardigan: Gap
green skinny belt: J. Crew
 

Which is like a chicken-and-egg scenario, at least for me, because, hi. My hair is at the disposal of my 18-month-old all day, and believe me...

 

 

...she pulls my hair Loose often and with ease, and Messy is her middle name. Practically.

 

 

So the lesson I think we can all take away is: if you're older than 30, just hang out with an almost-toddler to keep yourself totally young and hip. Which is absolutely true if by "young and hip," you understand that I actually mean "slightly unkempt and exhausted."

 

 

But the tradeoff? Worth it. Absolutely.

 

Happy Thursday.

 

 

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elementary, my dear watson

 shoes: mudd brand. shorts: express jeans (cutoff) (no kidding). shirt: gap. bracelet & belt: forever21. flower clip: downeast basics. earrings: hawaii.

Confession: cutoff shorts are turning into a major guilty pleasure for me. It feels like cheating, really, wearing them as much as I do. But I can't help it. There's something deliriously liberating about the irony of pairing total garbage (which, let's be honest, cutoffs really respresent nothing more than trashed jeans that needed to be either thrown out or cut up into oil-changing rags) with some sort of socially acceptable top.

The result? For me, it's an Unexpected and Maybe Awesome mix of high & low, trash & treasure, dumb and dumber & pride and predjudice...

Which brings me to my most recent scientific breakthrough that there are, really, only two kinds of people in this world: those who like Dumb & Dumber, and those who don't. My husband loves it. Further evidence, actually, that opposites really do attract. Know what doesn't attract? A peacock to another peacock, because apparently (says my 6-year-old son, who happens to be King o' Trivia Facts) there's no such thing as a female peacock. Those are called peahens.

Feel free to use that little tidbit in whatever way you deem necessary to get ahead in life. I know it's done wonders for me.

Happy Monday.

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i've thought about it...and i think maybe money CAN buy happiness.

 shoes & shirt: forever21. shorts: american eagle. belt: thrifted (american eagle).

Is the greyishness of my legs in these photos as disturbing to you as it is to me? Yes? Even moreso? Oh. Okay. Just checking.

This ensemble couldn't be more yawn-worthy than if I'd dressed in head-to-toe pocketed khakiwear. And even that would've been an upgrade, because let's be honest--pockets! They hold everything, like chapstick and a camera and money and lint and the back of an earring that you thought you'd never see again but, lo and behold, there it is right next to the couch, but don't feel too bad that you hadn't seen it there before because those spilled popcorn kernels were keeping it well camoflauged. So. Pockets = A+.

The only thing this outfit has going for it is the fact that today's almost over, and the clothes will all hit the laundry hamper in a few short hours. It's like a time-out for clothes. "You just sit there and you think about what you've done today, young lady shirt."

But some outfits are like that, and I embrace that fact. Know what else I embrace? When a hairstyle has been going for a few hours, and there's some natural "falling out" happening, like on the opposite side of my side ponytail here. I like how it's lived-in casual, it's effortless, yet still (kind of) pretty and approachable. And also, it's a step up from this guy...maybe:

Happy Tuesday.

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the 1st part is lame...and it goes downhill from there...

I apologize in advance for this post. Any shred of creativity and humor I once may have had has been zapped by UV rays and chlorine. They need to make a sunscreen for THAT kind of protection, if you ask me. C'mon, scientists. BE somebody.

 shoes: converse brand. shorts: american eagle. shirt: forever21. necklace & flower clips: gift. watch: target.

 This crown braid? Yeah. Awkward. I took it out because it's too weird, and I can't concentrate knowing that I look like a lopsided pinhead. Not to offend the lopsided pinhead population out there...I'm sure you're all very capable crown-braiders.

So, here's the deal, guys. I love this top, but I'm finding it hard to style differently. This is the case with several of my 30x30 shirts, actually. In cooler weather, it's easier for me to change things up by layering differently. But when it's hot, like it is now (not complaining, here. just, y'know, stating facts), the last thing I want to do is layer stuff just so it looks different on the ol' blog.

[Editor's note: So we've come to that, have we? "Ol' blog"? Ouch. Like Ol' Yeller...didn't he die at the end?]

So. This top is like an outfit unto itself. I don't really know what that means, actually, despite the piece of embossed cardstock somewhere in my house that says some PhDs think I know 4 years' worth of something about the English language. (Suckers.) Basically, if I wear this top, it doesn't really matter what else goes with it, because it's bold and detailed and can't really be paired with a non-neutral bottom like plaid because...ouch on the brain and on the eyes.

Speaking of pained brains: "apparently" you're "not" supposed to eat "crappy" foods "late" at night every "night" if you're "trying" to lose tummy "flub." [Editor's note: Admit it...you're a huge fan of an overuse of the arbitrarily placed quotation mark, aren't you?] Guess who's going to actively embrace her tummy flub? That's right. Me. Because some things are totally worth a romantic m&m snack by TV-light.

Happy Tuesday.

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stripes & plaid & a bit o' turquoise

  Once upon a time, I was pretty good at rhyming. I wrote insightful, lengthy, and often cleverly humorous poems. Today is not that day, as I finished my breakfast bagel mid-photo shoot and came up with this:

shoes & necklace: forever21. skirt: american eagle. shirt: gap. bracelet & earrings: hawaii.

I'm tired today, you guys. We've had lots and lots of face-time with Mr. Golden Sun lately. Which is 75% glorious, 10% "I really should be cleaning my house", and whatever-percentage-is-left-over split among the following:

(1) a peeling nose and hairline.

(2) makes me sweat and thereby smell like...what's the word...oh, right, sweat.

(addendum to 2) don't some people maintain that girls don't sweat, they "glow"? Liars.  

(3) tired. Srsly, I think my body needs 4 hours of nap per 1 hour of direct sunshine. Which means...welp, g'night.

I wish I could say the sun makes me hungry, too, and that would explain my recent tripling of appetite. But, unforch, I think the golden orb has nothing to do with that. Maybe I'll try blaming it on the moon and lunar tides and stuff instead. The ocean's only about 1000 miles away from where I live, y'know. Which is, like, an inch in the grand scheme of things.

Then it's settled. Just like the large bowl of ice cream in my belly.

Happy Wednesday.

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I will wear tights in March...I will wear tights in March...

 shoes: famous footwear maybe? jeans: kohl's. shirt: gap. vest: thrifted. belt: forever21. bracelet: don't recall. necklace: gift. poses-with-prop: discontinued.

Can someone please remind me to NOT use props in these photo shoots? I mean, really.

Hey guys. Remember how yesterday I was all (read the following in a taunting, high-pitched valley-girl voice), "I"m wearing a skirt even though it's cold and there's nothing anybody can do about it including mother nature because I am captain of the world apparently." Remember that? Kind of? No? It's okay to admit it...I hardly remember either exCEPT... 

...it turns out that the world doesn't warm up simply because some girl goes bare-legs-with-skirt. In fact, it was freezing, and I ended up wearing leg warmers all day, which probably looked stupid but I didn't care because I was chilly-cold.

So. What did I learn from this little exercise in Life's Laboratory? Several things:

(1) There's probably no reason to shave my legs until July.

(2) Mother Nature is a meanie-head.

(3) My Skinny Jeans are beloved friends and will never betray me in fickle March weather. Thank you, SJ. Remind me to buy you a treat later. Like pnut m&ms. I'll give you the green ones. And by "you," I of course mean "me."

[Editor's note: I actually did have on a skirt this morning until some friends decided to meet up at the park for a picnic lunch, so, as an older and wiser girl than the one who lived yesterday, I swapped the skirt out for jeans. I liked the skirt better, but, frankly, my goosebumps are all tuckered-out from their overstay yesterday. Poor little dears.]

Happy Thursday.

p.s. Don't forget about the awesome giveaway -- ends tomorrow (Friday) night! Hurry!

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