It wasn’t a particularly awesome year. Nor was it a particularly horrible year, either. No babies. No new jobs. No new homes. Just life. Just ordinary life. And it was good. And that was the best part of 2012. Finding the “us” and the “me” and our ordinary life. We’re still sorting it out. But I think we’re onto something. And I’m rather giddy about welcoming 2013 in a few hours…..
(& now onto what I wish I was wearing tonight….)
Cheers!
Oh… in case you missed last week’s balancing act of posts between Christmas and the New Year, here’s a recap:
A Merry Little Christmas
2012 In Review
The Sunday Currently 12
And, lastly, HAIL TO THE REDSKINS! #HTTR
And just like that, Labor Day is here. My September welcome wagon (complete with a happy dance, new Pinterest board, closet overhaul and a growing birthday wish list) provides enough pure, innocent joy to keep me up at night. Still, I’d be remiss not to tell you I’m already missing the snails pace lifestyle of summertime as it takes it’s final bow.
With the humidity and endless heat of the dog days came a carefree, relaxed routine in the Byland house. We stayed up late, slept in late, and took catnaps on the couch in the mid-afternoon. We wasted hours on I don’t even know what; it was a break from productivity.
And, when the temperature dropped into the 80’s making it bearable to cover my legs, I wore my white skinnies. Before I go further, I better remind you that I’m not running a fashion blog here. Nope. If I was, why would I be talking about white jeans when surely you won’t be wearing them again for the better part of a year?
Good. I’m glad we got that out of the way.
Miss Conservative Closet over here loves her white jeans. They’ve got this soft, stretchy, overwashed feel against my skin that makes me happy every time I pull them up. They also have a way of brightening any outfit I throw together. Oh, they please me so!
What do I love most about them, you may ask? I love that I’ve worn them for 3 summers in a row and have yet to spill red wine on them. And I drink a lot of red wine in these babies. Reasoning will tell you that wearing my white jeans makes me more of a lady (because ladies aren’t sloppy enough to spill red wine on their clothing). This is true. I love my white jeans because I transform into this young little lady the moment I get dressed.
So, while I’ve beaten a dead horse on the fact that I suffer Seasonal Affective Disorder all summer long, and while I’ve beaten another wild horse running through the fields on the fact that I love autumn most of all, I will miss my white jeans. And the proper lady that wears them.
May they hibernate peacefully in the back of my closet.
*Filed under Home Life*
I’ve never been a collector of gizmos and gadgets, whoozits and whatsits, or anything in between. In fact, sometimes, when I travel, I feel a bit left out because I’m not overly excited about the shot glasses, mini-spoons, magnets, mugs, etc, etc. To be honest, it all just screams “dust collectors!!!” to me. And I try my utmost to keep pesky, pointless, pitiful dust collectors out of my house (and yes, this means that if you give me a silly little something-or-other as a gift, I will quietly donate it to charity).
So now that we’ve got that straight, I’ve realized that, actually, I do have a collection. Yes, while being a doll and helping me pack for a 2 week vacation, my best friend, Katie, made quite the detailed observation. “I think you like navy stripes.”
I’m a little obsessed. I know. But aren’t they pretty? Thanks to a terribly conservative, awfully boring sense of style, my closet sees stripes…. Tiny navy and tiny white. White with navy. Navy with white. Big navy and big white. Big white and little navy. Long sleeves, short sleeves, dresses, jackets. Then there are the navy and white KJP bracelets, the navy and white intimates, the navy and white workout gear…. it’s really endless. And we aren’t even talking about Alex’s closet. I think I’ve influenced him, too.
However, I must say, this accidental collection of mine does not collect dust. It does not sit on display, waiting for someone to strike up conversation. Even better, it is entirely machine washable, can be dressed up or down, and brings out my blue eyes.
So while I in no way mean to degrade your random collection of dust (I mean, mementos), I am here to tell you that I have officially (yet very unintentionally) found my collection of choice. It feels good to be a part of the collectors club.
*Filed under Home Life*
In undergrad, I kept a tiny 18” TV/DVD box at the foot of my bed atop the dresser. Beside it laid my complete Audrey Hepburn collection. And Friends. But that is for another post.
I watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s every night before I went to bed. Just about 15 minutes of it, but I picked up where I left so that I would complete the entire movie in about a week. I saved her other movies for nights when I didn’t feel like being social. Or hungover in the morning. Audrey and I were best friends. We had a no boys allowed relationship that always left me feeling calm and collected. She’s got a particular, oh, je ne sais quoi…. poise. Not particularly a word I’d associate with myself in the slightest.
That’s what I love about her. I yearn to be her. To have closet filled with Givenchy couture and Lacoste polos. To spend my days traveling the world as a Goodwill Ambassador for Unicef. To stand tall with perfect posture and magnificent presence. The epitome of class.
Let’s be honest. She is my icon. Long before my J.Crew Minnies, she danced in Funny Face. Before my tortoise shell sunnies, Audrey peered into the Tiffany’s shop window behind her iconic shades. Let’s not forget she made a bedsheet into a fashion staple way before “anything but clothes” parties hit the college scene. This girl knew the importance of a flattering collar on a quality wool coat (ladies, the collar of a coat must be flattering for your face). She rocked my ballet flats, made the shift dress sexy (yay!), and relied on two colors, black and white, to build her closet.
Sigh.
Alex puts up with Audrey rather well. When I’m sick with strep throat (annually, unfortunately), he surrenders the remote control and watches Two For the Road, Roman Holiday, Charade and Sabrina with me. He’s told me “I’ll think about it” in reference to naming our daughter Holly (no Golightly). Every time we watch the end of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, he cheers for Cat and comments on how cold the poor, wet thing must be. All in all, he wins major husband points in the Audrey department.
Katie and I spent the evening with Audrey. We doze in and out of sleep, cuddling with the cats. It’s something about her voice that hypnotizes as we drift in and out of consciousness. That’s okay. You only partially care about the movie. Mostly, you’re just there to see what she’s wearing in each scene.
When my quest began for the dress, I only had one sentence to describe what I wanted: “I want a dress Audrey would be proud of.” Class. Modern simplicity. Tailored perfection. None of these sequins and fancy silhouettes. It just wasn’t me. Or Audrey.
I strive to carry Audrey with me in my fashion decisions. What would Audrey wear? I believe it translates into a classic, timeless, simple, conservative closet. More importantly, it saves me from some horrible fashion fads. And most interestingly, turns my closet into a cheaper, smaller, sadder version of the Duchess of Cambridge’s wardrobe. Class, I tell you. These girls hold the secret.
So, while this isn’t a fashion blog in the slightest, I leave you with one final thought. Dress as you please, but always be yourself in fashion choices. And if, for whatever reason, you find yourself doubting an outfit, take my advice. What would Audrey wear? She never steers you wrong.
I love you, too.
Images: 1, 2 , 3 , 4, 5
For reasons not worth boring you with, this week has been too long, too stressful and too crazy. But, it’s over and I’m pretty glad it’s finally the weekend. Here’s to a fabulous weekend-before-Independence-Day. It’s going to be a good one.
Dear closet, I’m pretty proud of you. I’ve needed a lot of cheering up this week and you’ve pulled yourself together to dress me bright and cheery. There’s something to be said for a good outfit, a big smile and a desire to be positive. It really can pull you out of the dumps.
Dear Anne Arundel County Public Schools, not gonna lie. That bonus you gave us for working “in the trenches” of high need schools came at just the right time. Our soon-to-tie-the-knot relatives and friends thank you. Well, maybe not. They’re probably shaking their heads furiously and cursing you because now they have 2 more mouths to feed at $150 per plate. Either way, we’re racking up those frequent flier miles!
Dear little Misher, Thanks for our little nap Wednesday afternoon on the couch. You are the best.
Dear hubcap, thank you for being amazing. And thank you for getting me properly drunk Tuesday night. And making me laugh… and laugh… and laugh… and fall dead asleep. It was just what I needed.
Dear mom and dad, I love you. And I realized this week that even though I’m 25 years old, you guys still know exactly how to calm me down, help me focus and turn my fears and worries into bravery and courage.
Dear arm party trend, I’m sorry for my unkind words last week. I still love you.
Actually, you are genius and I think you’re pretty cool.
Dear weekend, Let’s do this.
