Tweed Jacket & Topknot Bun

"Dear The Gazillions of Maple Leaves In My Front Yard,

 

"I'm sorry my kids and I spent all day Saturday raking you up into a large family leaf reunion pile, only to go running and jumping into you.

 

 ballet flats: J. Crew

bootcut jeans: Big Star

white V-neck tee: American Eagle Outfitters

scarf: gift

tween jacket: gift/vintage (Talbots)

 

"As you most likely are aware, we played with reckless abandon in your leaf piles for hours. We probably squashed many of your cousins and dismembered most of your aunts and uncles in the process. For that, I apologize.

 

 

"But my children had so much fun that I can't promise we'll never rake you guys up and do it again. In fact, there are so dang many of you guys still falling that I don't know if we'll ever see the grass in our yard again, even if I spend the next solid week raking and raking and back-break-raking.

 

 

"I originally intended this letter to be a thank you and an apology and a bit of an Ode to Leaves in the Fall, but I've all of a sudden turned kind of passive-aggressive toward the sheer infinite quantities of you guys in my yard. And in my bed, because my kids came inside after playing and laid on my bed and left millions of leaf bits ev.ery.where. (I'm sorry if that image pains you.) You're in my furniture, on my floors, in the bathtub, on my rugs. It's never ending.

 

"So. Out. Get OUT. Make like a tree and leaf. (pleaseandthankyou)

 

"Love, Brittney"

 

 

Shop similar styles below:

 

J.Crew Flats · Big Star Bootcut Denim · J.Crew Factory V-Neck Sweaters

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.

 

 

Shop similar stuff below:

ModCloth Plus Sweaters · Diesel Skinny Denim · Athleta Sport Tops

{shared: Everyday Fashion & Finance, Get Your Pretty On, Her & Nicole, Kiwi Women's Style, My Fashion Forward Blog, Style Elixir, The Life of the Party Blog, The Mrs and the Momma, The Pleated Poppy, }

Oh, this old thing? Just a little lumberjack-chic...

Yesterday our whole family got flu shots. And/or flu mist. Myself, I toughed it out and got the shot... and then flaunted said toughness for the rest of the day with a blue cupcake bandaid on my arm.

 

 shoes: Clarks Desert Boot

jeans: American Eagle Outfitters

striped boatneck shirt: American Eagle Outfitters

vest: Gap

 



Speaking of proactive health: I don't have an exercise routine, per se. I squeeze it in each day when I can. Which means that, some days, I don't shower until noon. Or night.

 

 

Today's looking like a 9-p.m.-shower kind of day. Which, apparently, means dressing like a lumberjack and letting loose the lion's mane of hair in the interim. I often wonder what other women/moms do when they sincerely don't a) have time or b) want to do their hair.

 

 

Me? I throw it in a side pony and embrace the Lady Lumberjack within. Or without.

 

Happy Friday.

 

 

Shop similar styles below: 

Miss Me Bootcut Denim · Blowfish Boots · J.Crew Factory Longsleeve Tops

{shared: Coffee Beans and Bobby Pins, Get Your Pretty On, Lamb Around, Life of the Party, My Girlish Whims, Style Elixir, Suburbs Mama, The Mrs and the Momma, The Pleated Poppy}

I love shoes because they fit when nothing else does.

This is what I wore today, blah blah blah.

 shoes: converse. pants & hoodie: gap. shirt: duo maternity.

Anyone who uses the word "blah" in the first sentence of a style blog post (and then repeats it twice more) probably shouldn't be writing a post at all. And yet, here I am. And here you are. For what reason is a mystery to me, but my grandmother always told me to seize opportunities, so I will.

[Editor's note: Actually, she rarely told me that. Her words of wisdom were more like, "here's $20, why don't you go get us something yummy at KFC," and "you're my favorite grandchild." She was awesome. And KFC is, on occasion, delicious.]

Ahem. 

Despite the randomness of a hoodie and button-up combo (not to mention the chucks and khakis...shhh, there there), may I still brag about my tummy-toting self for a moment? Today's lengthy to-do list is all but finished (and I didn't even cheat and include stuff like "roll out of bed" and "put on deodorant" for once), I have a dinner idea and ingreds, and I finished the sudoku in today's paper even though my pencil was really dull and I couldn't find a sharpener.

PLUS I didn't say something snarky to the guy at the grocery store who s.t.a.r.e.d. at my belly during an awkward shopping cart approach-and-pass. Let's be proud.

Happy Tuesday.

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More Converse...

knee-length dress no matter where the belt's placed

I'm on the fence about wearing a belt at this stage in the pregnancy game.

 I've long since jumped a different fence and have run waddled a mile up the nearby hill, though, about turquoise jewelry. Love it. Amen.

boots: kohl's. slip: a slip shop. linen dress: paris, france. cardigan: j.crew. belt & necklace: forever21.

I know. My hair here is, like, 2 generational inches shy of beehivehood. All I can think about when I see these photos is that one Seinfeld episode where the lady physical therapist has "old-fashioned" hair, and everyone makes fun of it except Kramer, who totally encourages her to keep it that way. I think I might be that girl, 'cept without the medical training. Or Kramer.

I learned that heeled shoes aren't that fun to wear for 4 hours when one's body is off-balance. But what IS fun is hiding some snags in the knees of one's tights with an exposed slip. It's like a little game with the universe in which, at any given moment, you're totally winning. Which, in turn, is comparable to eating the en.ti.re. box of chocolates in one sitting so that you won't be tempted by them later. Hah! Joke's on you, Cosmos.

Happy Wednesday.

p.s. For those of you tired of and/or unable to relate to a maternity-centered style blog, I promise I will post soon about some projects I'm working on. In the meantime...belly's up.

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what's red & pink & tweed all over?

RED: check.

 PINK (about 12 shades): check check check.

 TWEED: check. 

 or, for you overdo-the-pink-on-V-Day purists, TWEED: UNcheck.

 shoes: converse brand. tweed jacket: talbots. scarf: gift. bracelets: forever21 & gifts.

Hey guys, it's Red-and-Pink day at Everybody, Everywear. Fitting for Valentine's Day, obv. I actually have a red maternity corduroy skirt that I contemplated wearing with this shirt, but I'm glad I didn't. Seemed a little too bleeding-pepto-bismol for me. Not that that's a bad thing, of course. Oh, wait. Yes it is.

You know what's weird? (Aside from the fact that my 3-year-old is developing an affinity for pickle juice. No lie. Ew.) I think pregnant bellies actually look better when you can see their real outline. Which is the paradox of the universe, but there it is. 

If I had my way, I'd drape myself in a canvas tent and call it good for the next 2 months. But there are others to consider. Like my husband. And the circus clowns who, frankly, need those tents to make a living. Speaking of...is it odd to wear red chucks with a tweed jacket? Probably. I mean, are we college-professoring today or boarding at the skate park? One just can't tell. Which, to me, makes the combination a little Unexpected & Maybe Awesome.

Happy Valentine's Day.

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More LOFT...

what you see just might be what you get

boots: target. jeans: old navy. shirt: gap. sweater: motherhood maternity. earrings: gift.

I've decided something, and I'm clinging to it like a survivor to a liferaft. A college lit major to Shakespeare. An athlete to electrolyte-replenishing fluids. A macaroni noodle to cheese. 

What I'm clinging to is: joy comes in the details. This applies to life, to my relationships, to my goals, to what I'm wearing these days. For example: in the photo above, you might see a tired lady (check) in a worn grey cardigan (check) and some old boots (check). 

But you couldn't have noticed this sweet print of the shirt (my current fave): 

or these go-with-everything turquoise earrings (also my current fave):

It's these details that make me happy today. Supplemented, perhaps, by the three snickerdoodles I've consumed this morning. (And to think I'm surprised when my doctor mentions I've put on a bit of weight over the past four weeks.) No worries, though, because...have you seen my earrings, doc? 

Happy Tuesday.

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*yawn* i'm sorry, did i wear something?

jeans: gap. shirt: husband's closet. bracelets: gifts. annnnd...welp, that's about it.

You guys. It's totally a double-pigtail kind of day. And, looking at these photos, I'm going to have to warn, slash, promise you: my outfit posts at this stage of the game are going to become more and more infrequent. I don't think I need to explain, just take a small gander at the photo above because it's worth at least 5 words. Uninspiring at best, pitiable at honest.

The bare feet are legit because I literally did.not.leave. my house all day. Do you ever have days like that? Yes? Do you blog about them? No? Well, then, that's the difference between you and me. You're socially aware. I'm a walking tent.

But enough about me, let's talk about you. Are you impressed that we can still see my toes? Savor the memory. It'll surely be shortlived.

Happy Friday.

similar stuff (maternity & regular & even mens. things just got crazy around here.):

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my mind's eye needs glasses.

Today I channeled my inner this:

...but somehow ended up looking like this: 

It just doesn't make sense. Oh, wait. Yes it does. Different, ah, body types currently.

Dah well. Win some, lose some. So I lost the look-like-a-Land's-End-Canvas-model contest, sure, but guess how I won today? Six loads of laundry folded & put away, cleaned kitchen, homemade soup & breadsticks, and nursery somewhat organized. Plus hugs and loves to my two little ladies, who spent the en.TI.re. day snuggled into my bed watching PBS, sick as camels.

"Sick as camels?" you want to ask. But don't. Just run with it. And drink at the nearest oasis.

(p.s. Do you think the model above looked as flexiblicious putting HER shoes on before the photo shoot? Me too. I'm sure of it.)

shoes: clarks. jeans: old navy (on loan). shirt: gap. scarf: vintage.

Happy Wednesday.

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on sunburn and psyche

 shoes: converse brand. leggings: don't recall (maybe old navy?). skirt & vest: thrifted. shirt j.crew. hairclip: downeast basics. necklace: handmade gift. watch: gift (citizen brand).

My daughter couldn't decide which bracelet of mine to wear this morning...so she wore them all. There's a lesson in there somewhere, don't you think? (p.s. Enlarge the photo below to check her face(s) out. Priceless.)

I have a peeling sunburn on my nose and the top of my forehead at my hairline. That's right. Super classy dandruff-lady, comin' through. Is it weird that I kinda planned this hodge-podge ensemble around that? Dandruff? I wanted to wear something that says, "hey, I'm actually a fairly hygienic person [minus flossing], but I'm sporting some scalp flakeage right now, so instead of stressing about something that will go away on its own in a day or two, I'll just dress all random like I'm super laid-back and you'll think I'm the outdoorsy type, in which case said peeling sunburn totally makes sense and actually makes me look kinda cool and approachable."

I think I nailed it. The "dress all random" part, anyway. Polka dot skirt with vest and baseball henley? Yeah baby. Definitely random.

Speaking of...My husband said, "yeah baby" to me the other day, which nearly caused our 2-year-old to have a pint-sized heart attack. "Dad! Mom is not yoi BABY! She's mom!" I think I'm getting old.

Happy Tuesday.

Want this look, even without the awesome sunburn addition? Shop below...

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excuse me, sir, but may i take a nap on this park bench?

No matter how much sleep I get the night before, if I'm wearing a maxi dress, I feel like taking a nap. Who's with me?

 sandals, dress, & necklace: forever21. cardigan: j.crew. bracelet: hawaii. coverage tank: motherhood maternity.

If there ever was an item of clothing that said, "Go ahead, eat anything you want and don't worry your ever-plumpening head about it for one second," the maxi dress is it. Complete with an empire (non)waist and some tie-dye (the epitome of comfort), it's a recipe for a beautifully fattening disaster. And by "disaster" I of course mean strawberry shortcake and BBQ ribs. For starters.

My free-to-expand belly is happy. My stopwatch-holding, whistle-blowing, lap-calculating running coach of a brain is not. I think she's going to make me run extra laps this week, just to teach me a lesson. Curses.

But I can't help it. Tie-dye is calling to me lately. And when something calls to me, in publically acceptable pajama-ness such as is embodied within the garment that is the maxi dress (didja catch all that? if not, read it again. it's beautiful.), I answer. Not only answer...I shoot my arm up to the sky, wave it around, and scream "PICK ME PICK ME PICK MEEEEE!!!"

Happy Thursday.

p.s. What's the age limit for wearing braids in one's hair? Because I think I'm defying it. Which isn't necessarily a good thing. But I don't see myself stopping anytime soon...

Want this look? Pull down your covers, shop below, then hop into bed!

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