We’re going to Colorado at the end of May, and I’ve convinced myself that I need new clothes.
Because the clothes that I have and wear every day simply won't do.
I mean, of course there are other reasons why I need new clothes... (Not any good reasons, but a couple of fake not-so-good reasons that I've made up in my head.)
Like - "It's almost summer!" - therefore - "I need SUMMER clothes!" ("Summer clothes". As if the only clothes that I have in my closet are made of wool.) "I don't have, like, ANY shorts." (I don't. I don't know what happened to them. They're just gone. Did I even wear clothes last summer?) "I want, like, CUTE summer clothes."
"Cute" summer clothes. Not any of these crappy, not-cute 2017 Summer clothes. Ew. "I need, like, something I can wear for summer concerts." (Have not been to a 'summer concert' in five years. I am officially the sad-almost-thirty-year-old that pretends she is still young and cool enough to go to 'summer concerts'.)
You can tell this based on my recent purchases -- three pairs of ripped up denim shorts. At $70 each.
EACH. Seventy dollars. For pants that aren't even real pants. And have the word "Wedgie" in the title...
I think the part that no one prepares you for as a "style blogger" are the weird things that are going to come out of your mouth: "I really need to take more outfit pictures", "Wait - wait, don't eat yet, I need to get a picture", "Do you think I should buy a white rug? For blog pictures? All of the other bloggers have white rugs."
Remember when we only took pictures of, like, normal things? And it didn't matter if you had a white rug?
Here's the newest one that I've been walking around saying for two weeks: "I really need to buy an orchid."
Kyle: "Why an orchid?"
Me: "I don't know, because it's Spring-y. I want our apartment to feel more Spring-y."
There are several reasons why I "needed" to buy (totally did not "need" to buy) an orchid. Not any good reasons – but several not-so-good reasons.
When I hear the term “capsule wardrobe”, I immediately think of it as a “time capsule” wardrobe. Not in a weird way – I don’t imagine putting all of my clothes into a box and digging it up in fifty years. But there’s something about the idea of a “capsule” that makes it feel timeless. Like Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly. Not so much ‘the trends’ - just a classic, elegant style.
I’ll tell you that’s what I strive for – a ‘timeless, classic’ look – but what I’m not telling you is that I’ve been on a mad hunt over the past three weeks for one of those winter beanies with the fur pom. Or as I’ve been calling them “you know those hats with the fuzzy ball? Yea, I want one of those.” I don’t know if that look falls under “timeless” or “classic”, but I LIKE IT. Even though I'll be looking back at pictures with my grandchildren in fifty years and they will ask, “Why does your hat have a fuzzy ball hanging from it?”, and I’ll be like, “I don’t know. That was the style back then.” *Shrugs*
For the record, I couldn’t find one. The department stores swept those winter hats clean in January when they made room for their Spring collections. So, I’ll just have to stick with my regular, old, BORING, non-fuzzy-ball winter apparel until next year.
Full disclaimer: I am not a photographer. Sure, I take a lot of pictures – but that’s essentially all I am: a picture-taker. When purchasing a new camera, photographers are people who consider things like shutter speed, lens selection, aperture, and various camera-words-that-I-don’t-know-because-I’m-not-a-photographer. Meanwhile, in the other camp, a “picture-taker” will pick out a camera based on… “I don’t know, is it easy to use? Is it heavy? Do I have to know stuff about cameras to be able to use it? Will it take better pictures than my iPhone?”
These are all real questions that I asked when searching for a new camera.
Photographers don’t like picture-takers (I’m just guessing). At least they don’t like the picture-takers who like to call themselves photographers. (Again, I’m just guessing.) I feel like if I had taken a lot of time and practice to hone my craft, I’d be pretty annoyed with the person who shows up with an iPhone and an Instagram account and refers to themselves as a “photographer”. Congratulations, you officially have as much photography experience as Chrissy Teigen (who, for all I know, could actually be a very skilled photographer.)
My parents sent me a stun gun as part of a care package in college.
I figured I should open with that, so that when I say, “I found my stun gun in a shoe box in the back of my closet over the weekend” – ya’ll don’t think I’m the kind of girl who:
A) knows where to buy a stun gun, and -
B) keeps it in a shoe box in the back of her closet. Nestled next to a scarf and a pair of high heels.
Because that’s where it was. Who knows why. Who packed that box when I was moving?
Me. I packed it. I packed all of my boxes. And when I ran across that stun gun, I was probably like, “Well, I don’t have a box marked ‘Weapons’ …. sooo let’s just put it in this shoe box. That should be fine.”
That makes about as much sense me having a stun gun in the first place...
I'm searching for a new purse, "for winter". A black chainlink cross-body purse, to be exact. I don't know what winter has to do with it - but I saw some girl in a movie wearing a grey peacoat with a black chainlink cross-body purse and big sunglasses, and I was like "That's it! THAT'S what I want to look like this winter!"
I don't know where this comes from. I don't know why I see a random stranger in a made-for-tv movie and think that I have to change up my entire look for a season. It just happens. It happened with Peyton Sawyer on One Tree Hill when I suddenly decided I needed a leather jacket. It happened with Serena Van Der Woodsen on Gossip Girl when I decided that my "new style" should be "boho chic New Yorker-y". It's even happened with YouTubers. After watching two hours of Carly Cristman videos, I committed to only wearing neutral colors for a year. A WHOLE YEAR.
My entire wardrobe has been decided by fictional characters and people that I've never met in real life. That's probably normal, right?
My mom used to have these Halloween-inspired window clings that she let me bust out every October. Stickers of ghosts, witches, pumpkins - I think one of them said Happy Halloween? Probably? Every October she'd pull them out of her "Holiday Decorations" bin and let me stick them onto the glass door leading out to the deck. I loved it. This - aside from the in-school Halloween parties where the teachers handed out candy and we got to play games all afternoon - was my favorite part of Halloween.
I mean, I was like seven. The majority of highlights at that age were: candy, that giant parachute thing they let us play with during gym class, and stickers. It's the little things.
I told my mom I wanted to start hanging them in the giant full-story window in the front of the house. "There's more space," I said. "It's going to look so pretty!" I said. And I'm pretty sure if I'd had a more pronounced vocabulary at that age, I would have said, "It's going to be so festive! It's FALL! Let's decorate for FALL!!!!"
So, for the record, that is who you're taking advice from. Someone whose Fall decor once consisted of the desire to stick glass cling-ons of witches and pumpkins to the front of her house. Because she thought they were, like, "so pretty".