Real quick, a disclaimer: I’m using the term “essential” loosely here. Essentials are food, water, shelter. We know this to be true, and yet, we are continually convincing ourselves otherwise – that the cast-iron skillet, the lavender oil, the boar bristle brush are essential to a life well-lived. And while thoughtful style is a worthy
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!
This post is brought to you by my own personal amusement, and also by the current controversy surrounding a topic that, despite the fact that it cannot adequately be described as even remotely controversial, not by any stretch, is still dividing women as if it were the Red Sea, or Marcia Brady’s side part. —
Is that an instant camera?, my friend asks as I (unsuccessfully) pretend I’m not taking a photo of my shoes. I was trying not to be obvious – we are always trying not to be obvious, aren’t we? – and yet, by the time the shoe photo is finished developing, she and I have moved
Another week, another round of outfits built from the 25 items currently hanging in my closet. I am beating a dead horse here, and so I will simply say this: I have fallen ill to the matters of reducing. I find myself purging everything, from pantries to toy bins and craft closets to medicine cabinets.
So, it’s fairly obvious from my Instagram feed that we jetted town last week, a spur-of-the-moment adventure that didn’t involve scheduled work for either of us, which basically never happens. I don’t know, maybe Ken and I are growing up? Maybe we’re growing wise and gray and the next step is another minivan or maybe
Another week, another slew of outfits. Want to hear something funny? I talked to my dad on the phone this week (Hi, Dad!) and he says to me, while I’m chopping carrots, something to the effect of: You know, Erin. If you were living a long time ago, you’d have one outfit that you’d wear
I am a woman of my word, mostly, except for the one time I lied to a pug-loving co-worker and said I had a pug, hoping she’d be my friend, but it turns out she had a pug, too, and wanted to set up a dog playdate and was I available next Saturday? And then