Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
to the snow we go
We're considering going skiing this weekend and I'm excited!
But, since it has been many years since I last hit the slopes, I have not a thing to wear & my ski legs are shaky.
If only I could look as fabulous as these green snow goddesses.
But, since it has been many years since I last hit the slopes, I have not a thing to wear & my ski legs are shaky.
If only I could look as fabulous as these green snow goddesses.
via lee suttonOr, this spectacular bunny.
Instead, I'm afraid this is a glimpse into what my future holds; a twisted mess.
Monday, February 22, 2010
night wind
"There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us, and the Wild is calling, calling...let us go." - Unknown
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
b is for bestie
Shopping highlights...
I Love Peace Raglan
Framed Animal Portraits by Ryan Berkley
Heavy Cotton Coat
Jibibuts Blind Box Wood Series
One of our favorite pastimes, like kids in a candy store. For you, and for me.
A lovely start to the weekend!
I Love Peace Raglan
Framed Animal Portraits by Ryan Berkley
Heavy Cotton Coat
Jibibuts Blind Box Wood SeriesOne of our favorite pastimes, like kids in a candy store. For you, and for me.
A lovely start to the weekend!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
sweet dreams
Ralph Lauren RTW Spring 2010I dreamt we went shopping for overalls. Long & short for you and crops for me.
unconditional love?
Marc Jacobs RTW Fall 2010
Another fantastic collection from MJ, minus the shameful use of fur, of course. Does our love run deep enough to continue to skim passed the fur-clad models pretending we didn't see them and stopping only on the fur-free looks that speak directly to our soul? How long should this exception be made for my one & only?
Another fantastic collection from MJ, minus the shameful use of fur, of course. Does our love run deep enough to continue to skim passed the fur-clad models pretending we didn't see them and stopping only on the fur-free looks that speak directly to our soul? How long should this exception be made for my one & only?
Monday, February 15, 2010
green moss and leaves
The Fawn
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
There it was I saw what I shall never forget
And never retrieve.
Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard to believe,
He lay, yet there he lay,
Asleep on the moss, his head on his polished cleft small ebony hooves,
The child of the doe, the dappled child of the deer.
Surely his mother had never said, "Lie here
Till I return," so spotty and plain to see
On the green moss lay he.
His eyes had opened; he considered me.
I would have given more than I care to say
To thrifty ears, might I have had him for my friend
One moment only of that forest day:
Might I have had the acceptance, not the love
Of those clear eyes;
Might I have been for him the bough above
Or the root beneath his forest bed,
A part of the forest, seen without surprise.
Was it alarm, or was it the wind of my fear least he depart
That jerked him to his jointy knees,
And sent him crashing off, leaping and stumbling
On his new legs, between the stems of the white trees?
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
There it was I saw what I shall never forget
And never retrieve.
Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard to believe,
He lay, yet there he lay,
Asleep on the moss, his head on his polished cleft small ebony hooves,
The child of the doe, the dappled child of the deer.
Surely his mother had never said, "Lie here
Till I return," so spotty and plain to see
On the green moss lay he.
His eyes had opened; he considered me.
I would have given more than I care to say
To thrifty ears, might I have had him for my friend
One moment only of that forest day:
Might I have had the acceptance, not the love
Of those clear eyes;
Might I have been for him the bough above
Or the root beneath his forest bed,
A part of the forest, seen without surprise.
Was it alarm, or was it the wind of my fear least he depart
That jerked him to his jointy knees,
And sent him crashing off, leaping and stumbling
On his new legs, between the stems of the white trees?
sunshine and a good book
Half Broke Horses by Jeannette WallsI really loved The Glass Castle, which is why I was excited to find Half Broke Horses, a second novel by Jeannette Walls, while book shopping with Mamaw. It took me a while to get to it in my never ending stack of books needing to be read, but once I started, I couldn't put it down. The voice of Lily Casey Smith, Walls' grandmother, is strong, smart, and inspiring. The story of a profound woman whose life lessons we could all stand to benefit from.
Favorite excerpts:
...Jim once told Rosemary that she was so tough, any critter that took a bite of her would spit it out, and she just loved that. Rosemary was never afraid of coyotes or wolves, and she hated to see any animal caged, tied up, or penned in. She even thought that the chickens should be freed from the coop, that the risk of being eaten by a coyote was a price worth paying for freedom, and besides, she said, the coyotes needed food too...
...We had lived on that ranch for eleven years, and we loved the place. We knew each and every one of those 180,000 acres - the gullies and washes and mudflats, the sagebrush plateau, the boulder-strewn mountains and juniper-covered foothills - like we knew our own hearts. We'd respected the land. We knew what it could and couldn't do, and we'd never pushed it beyond its limits. We'd never squandered the water, and we'd never overgrazed the grass, unlike our neighbors. Anyone riding the fence line would see grass four inches high on our side and one inch on theirs. We had been good stewards. The buildings may have been a little rough on the eyes, but they were in good repair, solid and true. There wasn't a more honestly run ranch in all of Arizona. We'd known all along, of course, that we didn't own the place, but at the same time, we couldn't help considering it ours, and we felt dispossessed, like my dad and his pa did when the settlers started fencing in the Hondo Valley...
...Ernestine taught Rosemary that white wasn't really white, that black wasn't really black, that every color had other colors in it, that every line was made up of more than one line, that you should love the weeds as much as the flowers because everything on the planet had its own beauty and it was up to the artist to discover it, and that for the artist, there was no such thing as reality because the world was as you chose to see it...
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
under a rock
via ny magNot sure how I missed the news of Desiree Rogers wrapped in CDG for the state dinner, but, thanks to the March issue of Bazaar, I am no longer in the dark. The role of fashion in the White House has surpassed even Mrs. O with this statement. Quite fabulous, no?
From Bazaar:
Even amid the din of Gate-crasher-gate, which remains unresolved as this story goes to press, Rogers made a profound, stubborn statement about what female power can look like. A woman of authority doesn't have to deny her interest in style to appease those who would use it to paint her as lacking in substance. She can stand firm.
We love you D.R.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
wonderfully pretty
We move like cagey tigers
We couldn't get closer than this
The way we walk
The way we talk
The way we stalk
The way we kiss
We couldn't get closer than this
The way we walk
The way we talk
The way we stalk
The way we kiss
Monday, February 8, 2010
better in person
I probably wouldn't have given this jacket a second look online, but it is so fabulous in person.
Moved to the top of my lust list.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
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