Things of Happiness: Second Breakfast.

When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.
-Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows


This is going to have very little to do with clothing--but seeing as we have to eat to live in order to wear clothes, it fits in a very broad and stretchy kind of way.

I love breakfast. More specifically I love second breakfast--Hobbit style--or brunch. I have hard time eating first thing in the morning so I usually have a cup of tea and a piece of candy (oops!) first, then real breakfast an hour or so later.


Rose-bouquet tea, summer fruit tart from work, chocolate disks.


Nutella croissant from work, regular old black tea.


Soft-boiled egg, toast soldiers with butter, rose-bouquet tea (I think, I drink it a lot).


French peasant bread (toasted), orange juice, Mariage Freres 'Eros' tea.


Tea of some kind, corn muffins with butter and raspberry jelly.


Waffles made from scratch, breakfast sausage, grapefruit slices, Summertime Blue tea.

I love taking pictures of food, especially breakfast. And something about the late morning meal reminds me of Victorian things, inexplicably, and a memory of eating corn muffins next to the pachysandra one summer at a little table in the midst of The Secret Garden obsession.

Romantic Summer Hair.

I wish I had thought up something more poetic and glib for the title there, but I've just surfaced from the pool and am shriveling inside at the to-do list that's tallying up in my head. Summer hair is difficult. If you have a lot of hair it doesn't cooperate--it frizzes and curls up, or if you're like me and desperately attempt to coax your strands into curls, it falls straight and does nothing. It sticks to your neck and the sides of your face. Ponytails, refreshing and clean, get boring fast.



Braids are a solution, but it's hard to get them right! Is it harder with thick hair? I feel as though it is. Instead of delicate, winsome braids, I end up with thick sturdy things that could certainly (with some growth) serve as a proper rope into an upstairs window.



I think I've figured it out though. I still curl my hair, since that way it's alright if an end pokes out here or there because then it's a little pretty curl. These pictures are from second-day hair--I found it came out much better the day before, it was a little flat to work with the following day--but it makes me happy. I'm very low-maintenance with my hair. I cheat with pincurls (I curl the hair first and just pin the existing curl to my head), and if I can't manifest an up-do in less than 5 minutes it just isn't worth it.

My process for this is as follows:

1.) Curl hair. I like curlers, because they give you a loser, more romantic curl (I use tinier ones though, since big curlers don't give much shape).
2.) Place headband in hair. This is important, because I want it to help with the shape of the hair as it wraps around the head. I stick it in the middle so that hair hangs down in front of it.
3.) Being two messy French braids, low on the head just behind your ear. I'm talking really messy. Totally loose and not even. Braid to about half the way down your hair.
4.) Pin one braid so it doesn't unravel, and work on the second. When both are finished, just kind of grab them and twirl them together into a loose bun. Think, generally, that you want a chignon kind of look, or a bun, and just move the hair around until you estimate it looks like that. Bobby pin the crap out of it. Don't look at in the mirror till you're done, or you'll fuss over it too much and it won't look careless and breathy. Or something.



I feel odd talking about this sort of thing with any authority, but there you go. I've worn my hair like this for 4 days in a row, and it just makes my life. It hasn't been really hot here, so I guess that would be the real test, but it's working for me at the moment.

(Pictures taken by Mom.)

There's No Use Crying Over Blue Dresses.

I love this dress. It's from Dewberry Vintage on etsy (which I haven't ordered from yet because I am decrepit and poor--not to mention dramatic--but I love it to bits). I saw this dress a few weeks ago, and have been close to tears every time I go through my etsy faves and see it. I would buy it in a heartbeat, if only it fit! Oh my waist, how you betray me. If I thought I could without busting into internal tears I would write a poem to this dress, and it would know we were meant to be. Someone should purchase it immedietly and end my suffering (because it is not practical for a girl pinching her pennies to buy a dress just to hang it on a wall and worship it). Plus, it's called the Alice in Wonderland Dress. My heart, it beats wildly!

The Arrival.

I think it's safe to say, with only the tiniest bit of hesitation, that we've somehow slid into official summer weather. It rained and rained for days. Even as someone who always proclaimed that I faithfully adored rainy weather I started to feel downtrodden, barely able to throw anything on besides some jeans and a tank-top with a cardigan. Rain is charming, but there is something insulting about rainy summer days—particularly here where the humidity practically squashes you onto the ground so that everyone is roaming around like snakes on their bellies. Flattering, yes. I also chastise myself every time I start a post in my head and the weather is one of its subjects. Could there be anything more boring or typical? But, I mean, it doesn't really matter, in the end.

At last I was able to wear something summery yesterday. Despite all my bragging about wanting the intense summer heat I did find myself more than a little exasperated and fatigued from it. In the shade it was lovely—there was a light breeze—but walking in the sun was almost a nightmare. I should probably also learn to stay out of the sun generally as much as possible. I forgot my hat!

Today promises to be hot also, because of the weather channel, but also because of the weird, hot morning we've got going on so far. I'm crossing my fingers and toes and hoping that later its hot enough to go in the pool!





I'm also still trying to sneak stockings and hose in somehow. Yesterday I wore some flesh-hued fishnetty things, which worked out rather nice, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up that charade. It's nice for these early days of summer, when my patience hasn't worn out with the heat and when I'm still less-than-confident in my thighs.

Aprons?

I like aprons. I think they add something to an outfit. I don't know, is that a weird thing to say or think? I think it might be. The thing is, I always have. Aprons, besides their innate knack for being twee and quaint, are one of those strange garments that kids like. I mean, I remember that aprons were somehow cool as a child, for part of dressing up, one of those mysterious garments like night gowns that are practical and weirdly romantic. That's not the right word, but I assume you know what I mean (I also don't particularly want to deal with any kind of arguments here about domestic spheres and patriarchy and whatnot—it's there in some ways, and I know that talking about the aesthetics of something like an apron is representative of certain other things and values, and of course it can't be separated from that, but I'm also thinking about it purely from a practical point of view. Or something, I don't know, this is all a very poorly constructed line of thought).

Like slips and dainty vintage lingerie, aprons are one of those things that I always wanted to have as a kid when I found them at garage sales and thrift stores but usually never bought (especially as I got older, stopped literally playing dress-up) because why? We had a few at home, mostly neat ones that my mom made and a few white ones with lace that I used to abscond with to my room and try to fit into some kind of outfit, because it had lace on the edge and was pretty and there had to be a way to make it work. Most of the time I just used cheesecloth dishtowels or tablecloths in an effort to be more French.

These days I have to wear an apron at work. They aren't particularly adorable—functional and certainly nicer than the average—but it becomes a weird part of the outfit. I rather like it. It works for me because I have a nice little waist (if I do say so myself) that such an item works to show off. It sort of encapsulates an outfit, like a little shell, snugly keeping everything in place. I like them. They keep skirts from flying all over the place and make jeans and a t-shirt mildly precious.

I guess the point is, even though there isn't really a point that I'm working towards in any defined and planned manner, I like aprons. I'm not entirely comfortable wearing them with normal outfits—although why would anyone ever say anything about it anyway—but there has to be a way to do it. I have a pretty, delicate one I got at a garage sale two weekends ago. It's totally impractical—why would anyone make a sheer apron out of a delicate linen-type fabric? They wouldn't. Not if they were going to use it in any real sense of the practical anyway (how many times can she use the word practical in one entry?). I thought I would wear it over other sheer things, other sheer dresses. It's nice, and quite pretty and ethereal in its own way, but it's still an apron and everybody knows it. I will find a way to disguise it, I think. The key to it, perhaps, is in two ways: either figure out a way to make it less obvious, so that it is simply another layer in an effortlessly perfect outfit (as though that's achievable), so that it's hidden and a surprise, or to be perfectly obvious about it and wear it in the most obvious apron-y way.



I always think of this post on livejournal. It's so inspirational, and she integrates the aprons and things so seamlessly (weird choice of word there) and effortlessly into an aesthetic I so badly love and attempt to emulate in a weird little way.

(The word apron gets weirder and weirder the more you think about it and type it, or say it over in your head.)

Imaginary Summer.

“Most of the dandelions had changed from suns to moons” (Lolita, 73).



Despite all manner of things pointing to the beginning of the hottest season, beginning with the date and season's first sunburn,it's not summer yet. The temperatures continue to hover around the 70s, occasionally sneaking up to the eighties if you're standing in the sun, but even most days it's just sitting there in the 60s and being terrible. Usually I like rain, or those hazy over-cast days where it threatens to pour all over the place but doesn't. For once, I want summer so badly. I've noticed it's something a lot of bloggers—at least those in the parts of the globe who are experiencing the weather shift to warm at the moment—are all vaguely posting about it.

There is a certain kind of summer that we all dream about and attempt to construct out of the ethereal, fusty memories of all the summers past. It's the kind of environment that seems really dreamy, built on lethargy and languid, slow-moving, snapshots of bike riding, picnics, sun-umbrellas and christmas lights, the moments before and after thunderstorms, hair sticking-to-the-back-of-your-neck and freckled, sunburned noses. For me these romantic images of the season that makes almost literally wilt into a shriveled, dehydrated and sweaty flower are idyllic at night-time. I always remember sitting up in my sweltering attic room with christmas lights on the ceiling eating melted chocolate and peanut-butter and listening to music with BFFs. Or sitting outside, in some weird conglomeration of bathing-suit and cover-up trying to decide if it's still hot enough to hop in the pool. Suddenly, I wouldn't mind it. I would love nothing more than to be sitting in the car (preferably passenger seat—I hate driving) with the windows open and driving somewhere. I even want that suffocating humidity and heat that so frustrates and ruins the things I normally don't spend two seconds worrying about (ie, hair and melting makeup).


by beehives


Irish Hare

It seems that every blogger has their own specific version of this summer, but it does seem that there is something in common. Snobby disdain for it though there may be, I'm certain that deep down everyone wants the kind of bug-buzzing summer of The Virgin Suicides (book or movie, and of course, minus the obligatory tragedy). Part of the fantasy of this comes from the kinds of things we imagine we'll wear. Floaty, white dresses and pretty little sandals, funny little blouses with patterned or high-waisted shorts, mimicking photos of people going on bike expeditions and wearing all kinds of hats and silly shoes and sunglasses. A chambray dress or something midriff-baring, something that I wouldn't ever even think about in any other weather, floral prints and hair in wispy braids. Like all the summers in those Francesca Lia Block books, where the girls lie around and everything is beautiful and lyrical and a little bit sinister.

That's sort of the problem—this vision of summer that we all long for is somewhat ideal. Saturday was one of the bigger street festival events in my city, and my work had a table set up outside. There I was, standing there in my denim romper and straw hat, oblivious to the fact that the back of my leg was being fried into crispy, red-raw, oblivion. It was hot, and sweaty, and I ended up with that line on my forehead from the hat, and a distinct inability to get the latex glove back on my hand in order to pack up the baked goodies. Even now, days later, I stupidly have an idealized feeling about it. In retrospect it doesn't seem that bad—no summer does, no matter how bad the sun-burn. I don't do well in the heat, and yet I feel the need for it for once. This yearning (oh god, I hate that word) is something new for me. Especially since my regular trips to the beach have waned in the past few years—because the beach is the only place where this kind of oppressive heat is delightful and perfect.


The Virgin Suicides, 1999


by abless

Dear Tags.

I am the laziest person that ever lazied! I have been tagged by the wondrous Neon Relish and Leah of what indie nights?! I just combined the two memes, so it's kind of tl;dr, but um, well yes. It just feel so self-indulgent when it's so long!

Answer these questions, add one of your own, and tag 5 people!

What is your current obsession?
Oh geez! Ever since I was a kid I've been constantly rotating through obsession and phases! I will do it in a strange list form. Pens (I am suddenly all about pens, carrying them with me, looking for new ones), small but dangly earrings, things that are turquoise, tiny toy versions of animals, lemon hand lotion, things that are denim, and gorging myself on gelato from work.

What is your weirdest obsession?
I think that I might hate this question (I like really weird and vague statements like that—like, “I kind of love you” or what-have-you). I guess my weirdest obsession would be bees. I love bees for no apparent reason. I want to keep bees and be friends with them and wear those really scary looking bee-keeping outfits. There is no reason for me to be obsessed with bees at all, especially because I am not a bee-keeper and didn't really feel any deep affinity for bees as a child. I just like them. Especially bumble bees, because they are so fat and adorable. Also, I am waging a war against wasps (one STUNG me. It was in my closet. I live in mortal fear) and I like to imagine that the bees are on my side and they like me better.

What are you wearing today?
Today I was wearing one of my easy-as-pie denim dresses with black over-knees and some glitter flats. Lately I just can't be bothered and I tend to want to wear things that are lacking in the fuss factor. Right now I am wearing a towel as I just finished one of my favorite decadent activities: I sit in a bubble bath—except the bubbles are lame, srsly, they hardly stay—and prop my laptop on the garbage can so I can watch movies (I have certain movies I watch on these occasions, they have to be dreamy and kind of weird) and sometimes I nom on candies. Sometimes I think I'm Margot Tenenbaum. I'm not going to lie, I'm one of those.

What's for dinner?
Bow-tie pasta with tomato sauce and a salad. Then cookies and vanilla milkshake for dessert.

What's the last thing you bought?
Containers of Rose Cold Cream and Lemon Hand Lotion from C.O. Bigelow at Bath & Body Works. Big-ass sale going on, they were all like, three dollars! I called my mom and we stocked up. I will also go back tomorrow. Mmm, roses and lemons.

What do you think about the person who tagged you?
There are two of them! They are lovely, delicious people whose blogs I cannot wait to watch and read all the time. I find it kind of shocking that people who are that cool would actually tag me for a meme! <333

That question about a fully furnished, paid-for house that everyone answers with 'Paris' or 'New York'.

Oh geez. I don't know. I'm actually okay where I am. I've never not liked where I lived! But I suppose I would say, if we have to pick something extravagant, Philly. I really love it, it's a fantastic city and I used to spend summers there all the time. I will also be typical and say New York, because wtf-ever! I don't live that far away as it is, and hopefully some fantastic individual will hire me from there and I will be preciously quaint and whimsical.

What is your must-have item for summer?
Air conditioning. I wilt and die in the heat. Also, sunscreen. If I could I would fill the tub with it and soak in it so that I would never burn or freckle.

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would it be?
To bed, with the blankets all fixed and everything perfect.

Who do you want to meet right now?
No one, because I am sitting around in a towel covered in my own eyeliner. In general, when I am dressed and presentable, I would like to meet a lot of people. I'd love to meet so many of the bloggers who I admire!

What is your favourite piece of clothing from your own closet?
I hate this question also. But, I will pick. I have this one dress. I got it from Anthropologie about 4 or 5 years ago, and I bought it not on sale, that is how much I loved it. I saved and saved and saved for it, and then sent my cousin to go get it for me. I've only worn it once, but I love it more than anything. It's Plenty by Tracy Reese and it's got beads all over it.

What is your dream job?
I would like to be a writer, please.

What's your favourite magazine?
I like Elle. I'm pretty basic and boring with this stuff. I love Lula also, but I think of that as more of a book anyway. I also really love New York Magazine, and Newsweek. I read those all a lot.

What do you consider a fashion faux-pas?
When people leave the “100% Cashmere” on their coat/scarf/etc. Also, when they leave the little threads in the vents or pleats of jackets. It really irritates me.

Describe your personal style.
Bookish feminine. Oh geez, I don't know!

What are you going to do after this?
The plan is to do laundry and exfoliate. But I will probably throw the clothes on my floor and crawl into bed.

Three styling tips that always work for you:
1. Always over-dress for the occasion.
2. When in doubt, tie it in a bow.
3. Cardigans fix a multitude of sins.

What are you proud of?
Oh, silly things. This blog, I think it's rather nice. My journals, the little stupid poems written in the margins of things. My grades, surviving the semesters and all that.

What do you see outside your window?
The sky, and trees! I live in the attic, so I have only skylights really.

What is your favorite color?
I always gravitate to this one shade of blue. It's not cerulean, but it's close. It's between cerulean and turquoise. I love it. I have a cardigan in that color, and it's just about the most sad thing in my closet. It's all pulled and pilling and missing buttons. But I keep wearing it and cannot get rid of it. I also like that really light, peachy, pinkish tan color of tea-paper.

What is your weakness?
Procrastination. I am epic-ly awesome at it. Oops.

What animal would you be?
I think everyone has said cat! Me too. Then we could all hang out together and be graceful and adorable and have tails! It's like that thing, that line, in Vanilla Sky. I will see you in another life, when we are both cats—or something. I really like bunnies an awful lot, but I would want to be a cat.

What would you like to learn how to do?
It would be nice to be able to sing. I cannot, at all! I have a very hard time hearing and really getting music, and all that, but it would be quite nice.

What do you want to never happen in life?
Zombies. I was going to say all manner of epic disaster, and that still applies, but John and I were talking about this the other day. I really, really, really hate zombies. So much. I have no illusions about it. Come zombies, I know there is only so far a girl like me can get with a flashlight and a box of triscuits, so I'll just cut my losses and jump off something high. Or, rather not have them at all!

What is on your bedside table?
A lot of things. I am a pack-rat. There is the alarm clock that is older than dirt, and the other alarm clock that is shaped like an adorable pink egg, one journal, three pencils, two pens, a bowl with bobby pins, hair elastic, an eraser shaped like a peanut, vaseline, and pills. Two books, birthday and anniversary cards from the boyfriend, phone charger, mice-in-a-box puppets, sleep mask, rose hand lotion, and a bottle of water.

What was your favorite children's book?
Oh Simple!

What did you want to be as a child?
An artist, or a veterinarian.

What did you dream about last night?
No idea. I have been having really mundane dreams these days. It's very hard to tell what things really happened and what didn't, what was in dream territory and what is real. It's making things really hard, sometimes! It makes my days seem all fuzzy and weird.

Which do you prefer, day or night?
Day. I'm not really a night person, although I keep staying up late anyway now that I don't have work or classes super-early! I do much better in the mornings. I'm more productive. At night I just hit a wall and get tired and useless.

What would you like to get your hands on right now?
The perfect dress. Wouldn't we all, hahaha.

What is your must-have of the moment?
The pinkest lip-gloss!

What's your favorite tea flavor?
I favor floral flavors. My favorite ever is Mariage Freres Eros tea, although almost any black tea with roses is delightful for me.

What are you looking forward to?
Summer! Normally, I dread it. I'm sure once it gets here I'll be totally over it, but for now it seems to be running away from us even as we prepare for it. The days keep hovering around the high 60s and low 70s—which normally is perfection. I just want it to be hot now though! I want to be scorching and oppressed by the heat an then I want to jump in the pool and maybe go drink a milkshake and feel sick for drinking dairy on a hot day.

Now, my question:

Pick one line of poetry that sums up your mood right now. (That's not a question, but whatever <3)
“I was going to write a poem
I made a pie instead”

I shall tag:
Curiouser & Curiouser
Warm Pajamas
spider, spin me a story
Textbook Enigmatic
loxlie




I bought this romper on a whim at Urban Outfitters last week. In my area we don't have one. The closest is in Northampton, MA, where we go fairly often for concerts and visits and shows and things, and I saw it there about a month ago. When we went back, it was still there so I grabbed it. It's got kind of a weird mechanic vibe going on, or perhaps farm-girl. I'm not really sure what to do with it. It seems like once the weather gets warmer it will be really nice and easy, but for now we're just glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room. My original plan was to wear it bike riding, but my bike is in a sad state at the moment. We'll have to see.

Things of Happiness: Hanging out in Fields.

I find that when I am at a loss for inspiration, or a way to improve my general mood, it helps to spend little chunks of time madly adding favorites to flickr--then later on it's quite nice to go through them. Lately I've been particularly interested, or liking, pictures of people standing up, lying down, and sitting in fields. Somehow they're always so dream-like. It's been ages since I've been in a honest-to-goodness field--and when I'm there I can never not think of practical and frightening things like ticks--but I remember them from when I was little. They always lend themselves to pretty outfits, and there is something so appealing and mildly morose or melancholy about the back-to-the-camera ones.


1. Corinne Griffith, silent film actress, 2. grass cycle, 3. la petite fille aux coquelicots, 4. Heaven, 5. A Very Long Engagement. Jean-Pierre Jeunet (2004), 6. Language, 7. автопортрет 256й день, 8. Untitled, 9. Untitled, 10. grass-land, 11. my skirt flew up and I flashed cars driving by., 12. "The world forgetting, by the world forgot"

Sometimes Spring.

Let us ignore the fact that I forgot to blog for a bit there, and instead I will attempt to visually summarize all manner of things at the moment!


I won a necklace! This gorgeous thing was made by Saorise at spider, spin me a story. I cannot wait to wear it with white summer dresses! Hopefully she will open an etsy soon, because between this little confection and the accompanying drawing, she will be such a smash!


I repeated an outfit, although now with shorter hair and a bow! I am, at the moment, quite fond of tying tiny bows into odd places of my hair. It works best with curls, which are sadly falling out because of humidity, but for a few weeks at least, my follicled life is almost perfect.

Extraordinary efforts are being made
To hide things from us, my friend.
Some stay up into the wee hours
To search their souls.
Others undress each other in darkened rooms.

The creaky old elevator
Took us down to the icy cellar first
To show us a mop and a bucket
Before it deigned to ascend again
With a sigh of exasperation.

Under the vast, early-dawn sky
The city lay silent before us.
Everything on hold:
Rooftops and water towers,
Clouds and wisps of white smoke.

We must be patient, we told ourselves,
See if the pigeons will coo now
For the one who comes to her window
To feed them angel cake,
All but invisible, but for her slender arm.

-Pigeons at Dawn, Charles Simic

Dyeing Dresses and Sand.

I return! Even though it's May and the water isn't anywhere near being warm enough to even walk in, I escaped to run in the sand as much as possible this weekend--even this morning, when it had rained and the sand was all damp--and to get as many smoothed shell pieces as possible. I was going to wait till tomorrow to make a post, but then it would just be too huge!

Pictured is the dress I wrote about the other day. I grabbed it at a local store, without even trying it on, just because it was so sweet. Sadly, it was quite badly stained all along the top to the waist! Since there was no time to get dry cleaned before we had to leave, and I doubted the stains would come out anyway, I tossed it in some tea and crossed my fingers that it would all match up and work! Eventually I'll get better pictures of it, but for now these will do.

This is the second time I've used tea to dye clothing (I used to toss paper in it all the time when I was a kid to make it look cool), and I take a terribly simple approach: Soak the garment in cold water for a few minutes--I get impatient so it usually only gets about five max--or soak it while you get the tea ready. I use the huge ice-tea bags you can get in the store, and I usually use about 3 of those for a large pot. Again, I'm impatient so once the tea is cooled down so I can touch it, the garment goes in! I left the dress for about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, because I forgot about it, but it worked out fine. Stir it every now and then to make sure it's all even and such. Then I pulled it out, squeezed as much out as I could, and tossed it in the washer, with some chunky salt, on rinse. So far nothing has washed out, and it's the perfect faded tea color!

It turned out wonderfully, and I love it even more now. I wore it most of the day without the cardigan, but I think it's too perfect to show it not pictured at the beach. It's tiny, if I sneeze in it the world will come to an end, but as long as I mind my breath (it's not really that bad, I exaggerate) and don't eat too much it's all fine! I'll have to reinforce the zipper soon, but in the meantime I just love it.

Oh, how I miss the beach! It was so foggy you could barely see the ocean--the waves just came out of nowhere when the broke--so the pictures of just the beach up there are from this morning when it was dreary and rainy and there was no sun. My hair was all deliciously curled and perfect, but I defied all logic and went to the beach, and it all blew out in seconds! It was sort of amazing, how fast they all went away considering my hair holds a curl well normally. It is always worth it though, for minutes there!




(Stay off the dunes! I hate when people run and jump on them. Awful!)