Sponsored by Zappos.com. The weather, man. We had a 3-day stretch of unseasonable perfection in these parts — 80 degrees and windy, like vacation, like Hatteras, as if just beyond our treeline was the wafting of Atlantic’s salty air and not our neighbor’s trash bins. If I squinted hard enough, I swore I could hear
Update: I’m on my friend Tsh’s podcast again today offering my perspective on capsule wardrobes! You’ll hear why I’m no longer a purist about minimalism, and a few tips/tricks we rely on when dressing ourselves (a topic that, admittedly, I could rattle on about for hours.) Have a listen if you’d like!
I won’t even pretend that this tiny shift holds any real purpose other than a quick stroll through vanity park, and yet, a small step it is… My friend Beverly boasts the most plump, hydrated lips around. I realize that’s an odd thing to publicly laud, and yet, if you’d see her, you’d ask the
Sponsored by Zappos — The first time I pixied my hair, years ago in the midst of a swirling life transition, a grocer called me “Sir” by the frozen pizzas. (To be fair, I was donning sweats and a hoodie, no make-up. I offered the poor man no favors.) I blushed, laughed it off all
Last month, a girlfriend and I are sitting in plush robes at the local spa. It’s her birthday; we’ve spent the past two weeks playing Schedule Tetris to pull off a celebratory pedicure. As a nail technician swipes Denim Duty on my toes, our conversation – naturally – turns to aging. So how old’s the
Last week, I listened to a podcast in the shower. As Ken rocked Scout in the kitchen, as Bee drew an adventure map in the office, I steamed away a busy afternoon, tuned in to stories from another life. When I rinsed the shampoo or bent to shave my shins, the water would rush past
10 Style Tips for a New Mom Listen, I don’t adhere to many style rules over here and we both know the great lengths I will go to avoid setting expectations of any sort. Want to jigger your grandmother’s wig into a purse? DO IT. Feel a hankering for camo cargo pants? ONWARD. Borrow your
There’s just something about a heel. The first real heels I wore were little woven 4-inch platform numbers my grandmother had bought in Greece. They’d been gathering dust in her closet as her ankles weakened, and finally, on an unnamed summer day, she offered them to my mother (who was too practical to wear them),