Last time on the My Space segment, I shared a few of my favorite things in my home, and I am so happy to report that I was flooded with positive feedback about the post, which was truly moving, so I thank you for that! Now for this second installment, I am taking it to the living room, where I do most of my lounging and relaxing. To me, it should be inviting, cozy and uncluttered, but most of all, it should have a lived-in feel, which can best be likened to something of a comforting vibe.
I adore a big, robustly-padded couch. None of those love seat shenanigans -- the bigger, the better! We've had this grey suede sofa from Room & Board for a few years now, and while the color was good for when we were training Wally, I am totally ready to switch it up with something lighter. If not just because I want to update the space a bit, even though it's a great neutral color in a classic shape.
The chunky knit throw is from Pottery Barn and was a housewarming gift from my mother-in-law when we bought the place. It's soooo cozy and Wally and I often have to fight for it -- and we usually both end up getting a piece of it. I am huge on throws. We have a few for the couch (although this one has been a mainstay since we got it) and I have one on both beds. I love having extra blankets around because I'm literally always cold. Throws are also the most cost-efficient way to dress up a space and to make your sofa both pretty and inviting.
The ikat print pillows are from HomeMint (RIP). I mentioned last time that HomeMint was one of my favorite pillow-acquiring destinations because they carried such a well-priced wide variety, but alas, they are no longer with us. I'm glad I got to snatch up a bunch before they decided to permanently "remodel".
The gold coffee table is from ABC Home. Looking for a coffee table was such a challenge, it was a search that spanned a few months. Our problem was that we didn't really know what we were looking for and didn't exactly have anything specific in mind (remember what I said previously about gathering inspo before setting out? To avoid this very issue). This gold-lacquered piece was a real curveball, but there was something about it that we were drawn to. After staring at it in the store for a while, we were able to start envisioning it within our things. We were kind of vapid about it once it found itself in our living room and failed to apply any sort of protective spray, so now the top of it is pretty scratched and damaged... But at the same time, that's the sort of unintentional detailing that makes a piece look lived-in, attributing it more character. That said, if I had to do it again, I would take the opposite route and be more diligent about protection (that's what she said - ha!).
I always like to keep a selection of coffee table books on, well, my coffee table. Some are about fashion, some are about food and some are about photography. Just beautiful publications of fun, interesting things people can pick up and be entertained by. The shag rug is from Ikea -- yet another bang for our buck.
Slides -- the shoe of the summer, thankyouverymuch Phoebe Philo and now everyone else who has followed suit for summer 2014. While most of my fashion cohorts have opted for the height of the trend's incarnation: the classic and otherwise frowned upon Birkenstock, something about this one just had my instincts veering toward a less literal option.
Despite these oversized crisscross bands of plastic (sneaky Swedes) erected on a cork sole being a crossbreed of Céline, Isabel and the most polarizing German shoe in history, I am confident that my lack of commitment for this trend will leave me feeling extremely content by summer's end. You know, when everyone will be discarding it due to overexposure, kind of like fashion's very own Let It Go.
So here I am, being as simple as it gets in black and dark indigo. Adding a dash of dynamism is the result of my reaching for the scissors prior to leaving the house for a little trim 'round the ankles. Makes things less mundane, wouldn't you say?
It was a short week, here in the US, thanks to the long weekend. Short weeks are always both super awesome and agonizingly stressful, since you have that much less time to do the same things you normally do. It just makes for a more jam-packed schedule once the workweek commences, which, on the flip side, makes it go by even faster.
That aside, it is incredibly refreshing to be able to have one extra hang out day of leisure. And with that said, we are entering June (didn't I say that the summer was going to be zooming by us in a hot second?) and the anticipation for the hot days ahead are giving me jitterbugs in the pit of my stomach! Whether you have a busy weekend in store of just a whole lot of chillaxing, I hope that it's everything you're dreaming your break to be XX
Welcome to part 3 of my home tour! This installment serves as a mini visit of my office space, as well as a glimpse of my dining room/kitchen (here in NYC, they're often a 2-in-1 kind of deal), essentially the functional areas of any home, mine included. Now, seeing as I work from my humble abode (when I don't decide to take it to the nearest cafe), it's imperative that I be comfortable. As demonstrated here, I don't get very fancy, but I do like to keep it somewhat put together, so loose-fitting drapey garments are kind of what I live in.
I told the tale of my dining room table in the first post of this series (it's the Flatiron from Restoration Hardware, along with the Madeleine chairs). It's funny because the only time we ever eat at the table is if we have people over -- otherwise, we just break bread on the couch in front of the TV. Should I be embarrassed to admit that? Oh well.
The vintage wash Turkish rug is another score from HomeMint (RIP), which I jumped on the first week of their launch a couple of years ago. We'd been looking for the perfect rug to fit in the space but couldn't really commit to anything we were seeing. While its color scheme served as bait, the size turned out to be ideal and we fell for it, hook, line and sinker.
My office motto is that an uncluttered desk is one of the best ways to not only be more productive, but to actually want to go sit at it. I have found that the key to this is to get a smaller desk, where you'll be less prone to keep all kinds of trinkets, tchotchkes and other useless dust-collectors that will make a big, anxiety-inducing mess. We found this desk at an antique shop and immediately zeroed in on it, as it was the perfect size and shape. It's a vintage Norman Bel Geddes design, I'm going to guess from the late 20s. I've been meaning to change the drawer knob forever, but the kitschy silver thing has kind of grown on me. And yes, I am probably the last person in the world to have a landline, but hey, it's really useful when you have to be on hold with Verizon for an hour.
I like to keep a scented candle on my desk at all times, because, simply put, I am obsessed. I love the ones from Catbird, ABC Home (the Cashmere one from Linnea's Lights!) and Voluspa the best, they all have divine, well-priced selections. A little greenery on ye olde work station never hurt, either! (My husband has to take care of it, as I have what could be described as a black thumb -- I can't even keep a cactus alive, true story).
Moving onto the small peek of the kitchen area, you can see that there is a big ghetto-looking gaping hole amidst the cabinets in the back of this photo and I feel as though I need to address it/explain. That is the space where the microwave hangs its hat, but it happened to be out for repairs that week, right on time for this shoot.
The stool is an old piano bench I found at Brooklyn Reclamation. The velvet moss green cushion immediately caught my eye. It's not the most comfortable to sit on for hours on end, but I love it regardless and it integrated seamlessly within our decor. In order to complete my office space, I've been looking for a big pin board/cork board to put up on my wall for some live-in-the-flesh Pinterest action, but I haven't been able to find one I like, even on Etsy. If you have any suggestions, send them my way!
I wish I had more detailed shots of these two rooms, but unfortunately the lighting was tricky and the hours were sparse. Stay tuned next week as I continue my home tour, and don't forget to keep your requests coming! For most thorough interior deco tips, click here.
There's nothing more glorious in the summer than to escape the hustle and the bustle of the big city on big weekends. Bonus points if your little getaway gets delivered perfect weather, as was the case with this Upstate jaunt during the Memorial Day break. Upon said excursions, I trust that, like me, you are probably most likely to reach for your faithful cutoffs as your bottom of choice (weather permitting)?
I kind of threw myself a curveball when I fell for this Ann Taylor skirt back when it was still too cold to wear it. Having never been one to veer too far from the mini and the minier, ever so often, a different length comes along and tickles my style tendencies. Exhibit A: who thought, myself included, that my instincts would guide me toward an über-feminine, flowing midi skirt? Well, ever since that first encounter, I've fantasized about both gallivanting about at the cottage in a super easy breezy look (the subject at hand) and pounding the pavement in a girly, city slicker getup.
While I was sadly never a ballerina, I don't see anything wrong with fancying myself one -- my ballet vibe extends beyond this skirt, as it is also facilitated by my New York City Ballet t-shirt. So, there you have it: sometimes it can be good not to lock your lady propensities and throw away the key. Just swap your cutoffs for a fluttery skirt and see what happens.
It's kind of been insane how fast weeks have been going by recently. I don't know if the nice weather has something to do with it, but so far the transition into summer has brought a bounty of buzz in my life. To celebrate that, I've put together a mood board full of color, life and, by default, joy.
When I was a little girl, I used to fantasize about having one of those seat back windowsills. I dreamt about moving into a room that offered a large perch overlooking the outdoors, only so that I could create a cozy little reading nook for myself. The reason for why still eludes me, but it's one of my most fervent memories -- there are only a few things I remember having such a strong longing for. Perhaps it was due to the enchanting aspect of stargazing while getting lost in a book. I vividly remember romanticizing the scenario in my head, how homey it would feel, how unique it would be to have that little private space all to myself.
I never did get my snug windowsill alcove, but I like to hold on to the fact that I dreamt of it as a child. When we were viewing this apartment prior to buying it, the wide break in the wall cradling each and every window were something I made a mental note of. The thought was inevitable: I was finally going to have my windowsill bench moment.
It's now way more representative than anything else, as I no longer have dreams of private time in a small space that is all mine, but there is something nice and satisfying about having one of your childhood desires come to life. I do occasionally sit there and gaze out, whether it's to take in the view, to read, or to just chill out. It makes the 10 year old in me utterly blissful.
If you've just joined us and want to learn more about my home:
Growing up sandwiched between two rambunctious brothers didn't leave much room for developing a case of the girly-girl. While I had dolls and Barbies as a young'n, as soon as self-awareness hit me, shortly before I reached double digits in age, my attention was focused on being part of the gang, which consisted primarily of boys. My weekends were rigorously filled with street sports, running around in the vast ravine that bordered our home, or, on rainy days, building fortresses with every single couch cushion we could gather. My fashion consisted of my elder's hand-me-downs, extra large t-shirts (the only way I would wear them), Umbro shorts - the checkered ones (remember those?), solely sneakers on my feet (pun intended), and pony tails. Using the word tomboy to describe me would be an understatement.
What's funny, however, is that when no one was looking, usually on a Saturday morning and strictly indoors, I would parade around in the pretty dresses that still hung in my closet. Nothing made me happier than slipping my tiny feet into my mother's high heels and playing around in her makeup bag. Armed with that red, white and navy blue nautical-inspired polka dot number -- my favorite dress -- and my face painted in the brightest shades of pink, my living room was my oyster and my stairwell my catwalk. But I could never stand the idea of anyone besides my immediate family catching a glimpse of any of it. Being feminine brought me so much shame, for a reason I still can' t quite figure out. Perhaps I thought the boys wouldn't play with me if they viewed me as the opposition and not their comrade?
One of my greatest pleasures, however, came from my parents' large shared walk-in closet. My mom kept a few things at the bottom of her dedicated racks; her sewing kit, material swatches for house deco and my personal holy grail: a black leather backpack containing everything from her days as a ballerina. Leotards, tights, those amazing fall-off-the-shoulders knit sweaters, leg warmers, a couple of slippers and pointe shoes. The ritual was blissful: when I was sure to be uninterrupted, I would saunter over to my parents' bedroom, lock the door behind me, retrieve the dance paraphernalia from the closet and put everything on. The pointe shoes were my favorite, as they had beautiful satin laces that wrapped around the ankles so delicately. I made sure to pad the insides with clouds of cotton balls and then proceed to strive my hardest at staying in balance on the very tip of my toes. I was so enamored. Every time my mom told me she gave up ballet, it broke my heart (I was a very sensitive 10 year old).
"Why don't you try it?" she would ask me. HELL NO. I could never. It just wasn't me. I have street cred to maintain! Meanwhile, a good friend of mine from school had been in ballet since she was wee little and I would attend every single one of her recitals. But I couldn't bring myself to getting past my boyish nature, that reputation I was so keen to uphold. How is it that public image was such a concern for a child? That I will never know, but because of it I have forever missed the ballerina boat. My obsession has lived on and I have looked to dance for inspiration throughout the years -- it never fails to provide. Ballerinas have so much grace, so much elegance, such an effortlessness, they are otherworldly and filled with passion. Their appeal has never left me.
Going to the ballet is always a special affair and my husband took me for my birthday last month. It's especially magical when you're lucky to be attending one in a legendary place like Paris or New York. I wanted to give the art a wink in my sartorial choices that night and this Ann Taylor number furnished the tableau seamlessly. Here's to keeping childhood memories alive (another one, I know!) and to finding your way, in spite of how it all started.
Some folks grow up with the beach in their backyard. Instead of building snowmen and learning how to skate on ice, they became pros at applying sunscreen and their spare time is taken up by wave-catching. I belong to the former group (as if you didn't know). The beach, what a foreign concept. When your closest mass water source is a large over-poluted river that barely reaches 65 degrees during its summer peak, you're hard-pressed to equate the shore with regular pastimes. The only moments spent on a real ocean's beach, complete with the finest white sand the earth can provide, and water so crystal clear that you could well be in a pool, is when you take flight on a giant iron bird knows as an airplane.
When you never see the ocean, when the only nature smells you recognize are "fall" and "spring" and when you just don't find it necessary to invest in a fun collection of bikinis, anything that relates to being at the sea is magical. It's magic because when you come from where I do, the beach is synonymous with vacation; it's an event and nothing less. It happens in the summertime when you're on break and can drive up to one of the nearest coast towns, say in Maine or the Jersey Shore; or in the winter when you fly anywhere closer to the Equator. It's magic because of its divine, unmistakable salt water smell that makes you weak in the knees. It's magic because all of the above are constant reminders that you are indeed in a place where the only thing better to do than nothing is more nothing.
That sandy pathway across the tall grass leading from the road to the sand is a sight that always gives me butterflies. It lets you know that you've arrived. It's your welcome committee. That rare sight demands to be taken in every time I encounter it, as it's the passage from the regular world into one where waiting for the tide to rise is the only thing that matters. That sandy lane is there to steer you into a zone where the only thing to think about is how far the horizon goes and how dark your tan is. Oh, and that heavenly ocean aroma.
On a sublime weekend a few weeks ago, we decided to grab our bikes and ride down from North Brooklyn all the way to Coney Island -- 12 miles to be precise. It was exciting because it was going to be my first time on the legendary boardwalk. There was no sandy pathway between the tall grass, nor were there beach homes overlooking the water, but there was the distinctive salt water smell, a lovely boardwalk to strut on and Luna Park's legendary Wonder Wheel. The day would not have been complete without hot dogs and brewskis from the iconic Nathan's. But above all, my toes got the feel the sand without having spent one single air mile point.
Here we are, mid-June and cranking along. If you ask me what year it is during the middle of the week, I might have trouble answering you, but these #FridayInspo posts are always there to remind me of where we are in time. And for that reason I know that today is Friday the 13th, which is always a tad special for the hubs and I since we got married on one. With that said, have you had a chance to give your summer vacation a think? Have you made travel plans yet? What are you most looking forward to doing during the hot months? Do share! Have a great weekend you guys xx.
For this last installment of the My Space series, I come back to the living room for some lounging and chilling. As I've said before, I believe that wherever one hangs their hat should be a place of peace that reflects who they are and what they look for in a zone of pure comfort. I adore the minimalist Scandinavian aesthetic, and it would be a dream if my home mirrored that image, but at the end of the day, my interior style tendencies are more shabby chic meets urban rustic than spotless starkness. You also have to learn to make certain concessions when you share your life with another person and meet in the middle of your opposing views, or tastes, in this case.
The whole mindset for decorating this condo was pretty simple: we wanted to counterbalance the modern vibe of the place with vintage, more soulful touches. There are things about the contemporary aesthetic that we love, like a spa-inspired master bath, really high quality appliances, marble countertops, etc. -- but they come at the detriment of what most older constructions provide you with: charm. Features like beautiful wall moldings, exposed brick, wooden beams, without forgetting the general warmth and authenticity they emanate was not lost on us. Our instincts organically veered toward trying to mend the two aesthetics to make our home more personal.
While we have numerous newer pieces of furniture, they're all connected by one common thread: their old world appeal. Items made from reclaimed wood have a gravitational pull on us, multiple DIY projects were undertaken (I thanketh the aboves for a handy husband) and many customizations were made. However, a lot of our more decorative elements are flea market finds, antique show treasures and garage sale bargains. By making room for both the past and the present within our things, we were able to reconcile the modern with the vintage and make our apartment a place of balance and harmony. But even more important, we made it feel like us and therefore like home.
I hope you guys enjoyed my mini home tour and that you were inspired for your own place. You'll find all the details about the deco in the series' previous posts, here are the links:
When the mercury rises (hallelujah!), we inevitably start peeling off the layers of clothing -- sometimes by choice, but more often by necessity. When things get too hot to handle, that last thing you want are heavy coatings of material clinging to your body, am I right? Enter the slip dress. It's essentially the most publicly appropriate way to be wearing the least amount of clothing possible during the summer.
Most garments have a history, and the slip dress is no different. Look no further than the name, which clearly refers to its underpinning past: as a piece of clothing that was made to be worn under dresses, it eventually made its way to proper womenswear apparel. Cue the sexual revolution and the women's emancipation movement and now the slip is just as suitable for the outdoors as it is as a night chemise. While having undeniable bombshell qualities, the slip dress became the sartorial symbol for minimalism in the 90s thanks to Calvin and Donna, and, of course, queen Kate.
It also kind of became an icon in its own right, thanks to characters like Cher Horowitz (What is that? A dress! Says who? Calvin Klein!) and Carrie Bradshaw (hello, the Naked Dress). When I don my own slip dress, I can't help but feel like I'm channeling my inner Wynona. While this little number bares a lot of skin, its non-bodycon sensibility gives off that air of nonchalance I so very much enjoy. In spite of its revealing nature, it's more Moss than Crawford, peekaboo lace bra withstanding. An essential summer look in my books.
I haven't done one of these selfie posts in quite a while, but I didn't get the chance to ask a second party to capture this outfit, yet I still thought it was worthy of showing you guys for the mere fact that it demonstrates how to be versatile with your clothes. Allow me to elaborate: this Mexican embroidered tunic is actually a dress(!). It's a great summer number and, while worn on its own, it can have an overwhelming (and a tad see-through) beachy vibe, it also doubles as top, in which case elevates it on the chic scale.
Still very dressed down thanks to my trusty Refind Denim cutoffs (I basically live in these), the single sole high-heeled mules, aka the shoe of the season, sweep in to pull the whole thing together. You don't need to be donning fancy gear to wear heels. In fact, I much prefer to be in ultra-casual garb when strapping on sky-high footwear -- all in the name of balance. Now, if only I could actually be going to Mexico in this thing, I would be more than happy to swap the Ninas for Havaianas...
I hope they're predicting incredible weather for your weekend plans, wherever you may be in the world. Over here, it should be actually near perfection and we're traveling to NJ to see some family (the very latest addition to it, actually!) and I'm very happy that Mother Nature decided to be on our side this time. Tomorrow also marks our official entry into summer, all rejoice! Have a great weekend everyone xx
When your really good friends decide to follow their entrepreneurial spirits and undertake the very difficult task of opening up a clothing boutique, the instinctive reaction is to rally behind them and support their journey. There's no greater joy than being able to share life-defining moments with people you love and believe in -- bearing witness to the triumphs, trials and tribulations, the glorious high highs and the unpreventable lows that come along with starting your own business only leaves you wanting to get involved in their adventure.
My girl friends in Miami are doing just that and the determination they're demonstrating is incredibly inspiring and contagious. Allow me to introduce you, my amazing readers, to my amazing homegirls and their new endeavor: MIMO Market. And I'm super thrilled to have Lisa as a sidekick for this post!
My girl Lisa and I met years ago during my first internship in New York at Marie Claire magazine. She hired me as her intern after I relentlessly hounded her for weeks. We ended up developing a strong friendship that stood the test of distance for many years until I moved to New York permanently 3 years ago, and again now because she abandoned me left the Big Apple to go back to her hometown of Miami last summer.
The girl has some serious fashion cred: Marie Claire, Elle and more recently, Bloomingdale's. The dream of opening a boutique of her own always lived in her heart and it was an organic progression as she boomeranged back to south Florida.
She partnered with Lani, an equally talented friend with similar aspirations, and together they founded MIMO Market, the name serving as an acronym for Miami Inspires Modern Originality. Get ready for a new generation of clothing store: the kind that just gets you.
Once they open up in August, they're slated to become a not-to-be-missed destination for personal style in the booming area of Wynwood, thanks in part to their involvement in the community and the buzz they're already garnering via social media. And bring your boyfriend because they've got menswear too.
Certainly, everyone reading this is familiar with Miami? Now, tell me: what is the first thing that springs to mind when conjuring up images of the city where the heat is on? South Beach? Nightlife? Bodycon dresses? Skin galore? Douchery (yep, I'm going there)? You're not alone.
But think again.
The next time you find yourself booking a trip to the steamy party capital, do NOT leave without a pilgrimage to Wynwood. It's the hottest up and coming area, it's where street art is king, the cool kids hang, locals frequent and trends are born. All those murals plastering your Instagram feed thanks to the Art Basel-dwelling scene you follow on the social platform? All in Wynwood.
Speaking of scene, are you tired of Collins Avenue or the pretentious vibes of Fontainebleau? Look no further than Wynwood for a conglomeration of pop-up galleries, live art shows, delicious food and all-around radness. Above all, this budding neighborhood is all about its sense of community. There's incredible support and camaraderie between the businesses, which makes you feel like you're actually a part of something even bigger as a contributor to this new dynamic area. It's truly palpable.
So when my Chinese princess, Lisa, graced New York City with her presence last week, we seized the obvious opportunity to collaborate. I'm so excited to share the awesomeness of MIMO Market with you guys, as we're both wearing pieces that will be available in the shop come their August opening.
As you can tell, the vibe is cool, versatile, edgy, affordable, young and fun. Our personal styles are on two ends of the spectrum, and the MIMO merch caters to us both. Their democratic approach is something that all women can relate to and that will no doubt make their patrons faithful regulars.
Lisa and Lani are making MIMO more than just a store. They're able to telegraph their vision by creating a MIMO world via a creative, inspiring blog, as well as a strong social media presence. They're laying the groundwork in order to be able to assert MIMO as a mainstay on the scene. My girl friends are mini moguls, what can I say?
Details On Me: T-shirt - Chrldr (available at MIMO Market in August) Vegan leather vest - Mink Pink (available at MIMO Market in August) Cutoffs - J Brand (similar) Shoes - Jason Wu Earrings - Lauren Wolf Necklace - Rings & Tings (similar) Rings - Saint Laurent, vintage & Chic Peek
On Lisa: Joa shorts, available at MIMO Market in August
As I mentioned earlier, building a business from the ground up (literally and figuratively) means not only moments of great joy, but also overcoming a series of hurdles. Conquering financial challenges fortunately come with practical solutions, like calling on the human spirit to lend a hand. Including yours!
You'll be able to learn more about what they're doing and become a part of their journey as well. Whether you donate $5 or $50, they're offering great incentives for you generosity and your cash is sure to go a very long way for two girls who are developing something really amazing. There are only 9 days left to their campaign, make it count you guys!
When you're not headed out of town, summers are for easy living, impromptu evening plans, staycations, lazy days and outdoor chillin. That smell in the air on summer nights is enough to transport your soul to a place of extreme nostalgia, all while instilling in you the thought that anything is possible, beckoning your desire for adventure. The night is forever young once June rolls around.
While pondering what could be in store as the night unfolds, shooting the shit on the front stoop (preferably brewski in hand) alone often makes for a satisfactory evening proposition. There is hardly anything more evocative of summer living than parking yourself on the front stoop with a few pals and offering commentary as people walk by.
Perhaps this look, which (unintentionally) verges on normcore, subconsciously foreshadowed my stoop shenanigans.
Is this seriously the last weekend of June? Believe it. I'm weeping inside. To keep you on the right side of inspired, I've put together a mood board of delicious summer inpo. Have a a fun break everyone xx
There is a place in New York City that is avoided at all costs by locals unless they must absolutely frequent it for work, meetings or the theatre. That place is known as hell on earth Times Square. There are way too many people, it's filled with tourist traps (and the tourists to be trapped), people walk slow, the intersections are giant clusterfucks and on top of it being plainly annoying, it's rather abrasive.
Most people who are on a visit in the Big Apple stay around this area and proclaim "they could NEVER live here!". Neither could we. This is why no one lives there. Sure, the extremities of midtown comprise a periphery of semi-habitable neighborhoods like Hell's Kitchen and Kip's Bay, but the bigger part of that geographic area is peppered with hotels, bad restaurants, office towers and Broadway theatres. The residential abodes in between are short-term apartment leases and international businessmen-owned "investment properties". So no, no person in their right mind actually lives around there.
That said, no matter how you cut it, how irritating navigating the meeting point of Broadway and 7th Avenue may be, there's always an element of utter marvel that strikes when you actually take a moment to look up and take in what you see: larger-than-life billboards, enough lights to make it look like daytime at any given hour of the night, giant displays of American megalomania. Unless you've been to Tokyo, nothing in the world compares to the magnitude that is the heart of midtown Manhattan.
While I'm shitting all over this place, you undeniably need to see it at least once in your life. Ignore the tour guides hounding you to get on a bus, the creepy man-size Elmo mascots and Batmans (they're either meth heads or heavily inebriated (#justkidding #notreally)), the fanny packs resting on gunts attacking your eye-sight. Ignore the fact that you would lose a race with a snail and plop yourself in the middle of the pedestrian zones or on the TKTS staircase, look up and take it in. And remember that not even 20 years ago, what seems now like the center of the universe used to be one of the biggest dumps known for criminal activity.
But in all honesty, it's always an impressive sight, especially by night.
Once in a while, I like to swap my trusty two-legged bottoms for an airy, more feminine option, also known as the skirt. My tomboy ways have most likely made the sight of me in a flirty look a bit jarring, but I assure you, skirts are something I often engage in wearing. As long as it has monochrome sensibilities, it's a garment that I feel incredibly comfortable in, if not for its breeziness, for the fact that it balances out my ensembles comprised mostly of loose, body-uncon tops.
Remaining faithful to my personal sartorial intuitions, I kept it streamlined and by doing so inadvertently gave myself a bit of a French girl slant. Maybe it's the trench? Or perhaps the lipstick? Or the combination of the two? Either way, it's all finished off with a laissez faire attitude.
Here's the deal: I'm just not that into color. While i love and appreciate it on others, I simply don't particularly enjoy it on myself. Muted neutrals are my jam. Sometimes you'll find me dipping into certain hues I have soft spot for, like red, green or pastels, but mostly I prefer to stick to black. Or in this case, to white.
On certain occasions, I'll reach for a print, but when things are too loud, I get the jitters. That most certainly does not equate to boring -- in fact, donning one single shade from head to (almost) toe packs just as much of a punch as print-mixing. It takes as much confidence to rock a monochromatic ensemble as it does the latter. I highly recommend you give it a go: it's one of the few fail-proof ways to ensure an easy breezy look on a summer day.
