There is no season I welcome more than Spring. I love the scent of azaleas and honeysuckle that hits me when I step out of the house. I am here for the sunshine that starts to peek through and hang around until early evening. But, most of all (and I know my fellow educators can relate), I’m pretty sure I wait for Spring with baited breath for the simple fact that I can see the light at the end of a very long semester…
I’m teaching neurobiology this semester and we started to dip our toes into the wonderful world of neurotransmitters last week: those magic little chemicals in our brain that allow for our neurons to transfer information to one another. One such neurotransmitter is dopamine – it’s historically known as the “pleasure neurotransmitter.” When we experience something unexpectedly awesome, our brains get a burst of this feel good substance.
A huge part of the last few months of our lives has been in redefinition. Redefining Normal. Redefining a successful day at work. Redefining a Friday Night. And, most recently: redefining a reason for having a dance party. Reason being: I simply needed it. And I have Trunk of Dresses and this spectacular hand painted vintage skirt to thank for a moment of pure, indescribable joy as I twirled and jived and forgot the world for a moment or two in my garden…
This past weekend marked another Valentine’s Day – Mr. Dressed and I celebrated with our usual flare: getting fancy, a dinner at Manna (one of our favorite restaurants in town), followed by presents back at the homestead. And as we are barreling towards our 10 year wedding anniversary, I can’t help but marvel at how lucky I am to have found someone with whom I simply fit.
There are certain garments and certain accessories that were simply meant to be together – although I can embrace a good push/pull in my styling (tough meets sweet, classic meets edgy, leather meets florals), I must admit that I’m a gal who loves her themes. My hands itch to pair gingham and strawberries or a floral print with a floral brooch with floral shoes…yeah, you get the idea. So, when I saw this vintage 1950’s piano-themed skirt pop up at Xtabay Vintage, I knew that I had its mate in the form of the most perfect Mary Frances handbag. I think…
There are a lot of wonderful things about blogging. I love having a space where I have full creative freedom. Where I can share everything from the minutiae of my day to the passion I have for a 1950’s Suzy Perette in my size on sale. And then there’s the people I’ve met – the amazing community I am lucky enough to be a part of. From other vintage aficionados to working with amazing small business owners, connecting to people around the world has definitely put the cherry on my blogging sundae.
It’s safe to say I’ve moved around a lot in my life. And I’m not talking about the within-city moves (though we’ve racked up a fair few of those too). I’m talking about the uprooting your life, move to another country, then four years later do it again (cause it was so fun and stress-free the first time!) Truthfully, I wouldn’t change those experiences for anything in the world. Living in other countries has given me perspectives I never would have gained otherwise and afforded me insights into new places and new cultures. I know I wouldn’t be who I…
We all know the timeless story of Cinderella. And whenever I think of it, it always conjures up images of the fairy tale. The gorgeous gown, the jeweled slippers, dancing with the handsome prince in a grand ballroom. But, I’m just as interested in the time after the clock chimes midnight. Where the coach turns back into a pumpkin. Where Cinderella goes home, kicks off her glass slipper and rubs her aching feet, takes off her bra and becomes the vulnerable, fresh-faced version of herself again.
There is no other time of year imbued with more magic than Christmas. It feels like the minute December 1st hits, everywhere starts to take on a bit of extra sparkle (and a bit of extra frenetic energy that only the stress of Christmas shopping can bring). By some miracle, I managed to finish my Christmas shopping last week and all things that needed to be shipped are safely in their intended destinations. Which gives me just enough time to sip cocoa and soak up a bit of Christmas magic.
None of us ever want to admit we have a type. No matter how much our friends say we’re predictable, we want to believe that we’re all open minded and never shallow enough as to gravitate towards a formulaic list of characteristics. And yet, when you look back at your track record, chances are there is an inevitable pattern…