fall dreaming.

fall dreaming.
so, i’m doing my very best to enjoy september this year, and the last few days of summer. i’ve been trying to spend a little time soaking up the sun every day before it disappears into an actual fog. but i can’t deny the little pangs of excitement that i’m feeling about fall. additionally i feel like i need an entirely new wardrobe, to go along with the new season. you understand. here is my dream fall wardrobe. in case you were wondering.
  1. reading an article called “no, hillary clinton should not shut the fuck up and go away” filled me with the desire to wear this sweatshirt every day. solidarity.
  2. my j.crew phase continues, due in large part to this 1984 rugby shirt (which i’m pretty sure i had in 1984), these faux army pants (that remind me of the actual army pants that i wore throughout high school), and this vintage j. crew cardigan that is lined in plaid flannel (like somebody took kurt cobain’s pajamas and lined his sweater with them).
  3. this rachel comey velvet swimsuit/bodysuit is effing gorgeous.
  4. maryam nassir zadeh’s spring 2018 collection blew my mind this week. been seeing so much electric lime green at fashion week and feeling like these mules are where it’s at.
  5. these raey jeans have been all up in my cyber space lately and at first glance i found them ugly for their late 90’s-ness, but after seeing them repeatedly on various fashion girls i feel like i need to have them. that my friends is effective marketing for the modern age.
  6. little house on the prairie micro florals were also abound at fashion week, perhaps most beautifully at brock collection. i’m kind of obsessed with vintage laura ashley dresses right now, like this floral one (another sleeveless option here) and this ultra rare plaid dress which is v v twin peaks.
  7. i want to wear these sky blue glitter socks with red shoes a la dorothy.
  8. it’s a lil’ bit painful how bad i want these attico velvet ankle cuffs. so, so bad.
  9. if you happen to be a size 8 please buy these beautiful green suede isabel marant boots which are 57% off and perfection or these rachel comey ankle boots which are 60% off and also perfection.
  10. really loving cocoa brown lately, especially this creatures of comfort skirt which would be beautiful worn with a bright teal/turquoise top like this awesome vintage bedazzled one.

the end.


the mystic.


your mother always told you

pay attention

pay attention to what jumps out at you

pay attention as you shuffle the deck

pay attention to what falls down around you

slips through your fingers

comes knocking on your door

pay attention to the car that drives through your walls

into your living room

as you are sitting on the sofa biting your fingernails right down

to the quick

pay attention to the driver

who has been drinking and fighting with his wife


in the apartment building where you live

with your lonely mother

who spends her evenings drinking and shuffling cards laying them out in intricate formations in random order

who spends her evenings

divinely guided

who spends her evenings answering questions before they are asked

knowing who is on the line before she answers the phone knowing who is

on the line

your mother nesting your mother a wise old owl full of wisdom full of sunset blush full of squelched desires and muted little hatreds

your mother looking the other way while you

steal ambrosia and nectar from the gods

your mother looking the other way while you

roll a boulder uphill


your mother always turning her back on upright cups

chalices and hearts

your mother a remote and inaccessible cave filled

to the brim with impenetrable truths

your mother

who spends her evenings lonely evenings drinking alone

instead of fighting with her husband

what’s in the blood

september covet.

september covet.
september is my favorite month. i feel like it’s the best of both worlds, because you get the last days of summer, where you try to enjoy every minute of hotness while it lasts, and the first little glimpses of fall. but the romantic fall: the crisp light and the slight chill in the air and the first little bins of baby pumpkins at the grocery store without the crappy weather and sugar overload/bloat of the tail end of fall. i’m feeling a little excited about being able to wear long sleeves and of course boots again, and i’m going to do my best to really soak in the september-y goodness this year. here’s my list for the month.
  1. did you hear that american apparel is back? gen xers rejoice!
  2. i’m feeling like i NEED a vintage missoni paneled skirt to be complete. as a woman.
  3. cannot wait for sweatshirt weather to come back.
  4. bruce springsteen’s the river is kinda the ultimate september record to me. perfect for hot indian summer afternoons and those lonesome dark nights where fall creeps in with a coolness.
  5. tough to put into words how excited i am for the release of patti smith’s new book this month.
  6. really feeling like a berry lip and cheek stain is in order for pre-fall. fat and the moon things are all good things.
  7. little retro jelly bags make my inner 80’s pre-teen do a little tiffany heel-slide dance.
  8. i am really a fan of credit card holders vs wallets because they fit into pockets when i want to free-ball it and not carry a bag. this silver ysl one gave me actual butterflies in my actual stomach when i saw it. but holy $$.
  9. oh man i want this silk sailor top from l’ecole des des femmes which is cute as shit man! also 40% off!
  10. speaking of my inner 80’s pre-teen, i want studded jeans and studded shoes in my life again. it’s time, you guys. let’s bedazzle the feck out of everything.
  11. also glitter socks.
  12. i have been internet stalking this pair of celine boots for months. i keep trying to find a way that my eyes don’t see them as utter boot perfection but alas! still perfect to my eyes.
  13. i am so sick of the frankie shop and all of their cool ass shit which is really not affordable and yet ALWAYS sold out even though they keep lying to us all and saying “back in stock” which i think is just a marketing ploy to make me want everything more. especially this ivory linen dress with phantom neck buttons which i want THE MOST.

the end.

ode to corningware.


one of my favorite things about living in my husband’s great-grandmother’s house (apart from the boxes of lovely 1940’s photos and the incredible garden) is her little set of 1960’s corningware casserole dishes. i use them as often as possible, which ends up being a lot, but i have to say that i have never had a more successful chicken dish than the ones cooked in corningware. maybe there is some great-grandma juju helping me along, but they have never failed me.

for about 2 years i was on a mostly plant-based diet. aside from the occasional fish taco, i only cooked vegan meals. this was great for my cooking skills because i had to get creative, and vegetables are awesome, but i did find that there was a general lag to me during that time. i recently started eating meat again and i feel a whole lot better. i forgot what it was like to have actual energy. i’ve been making this roast chicken dish about once a week lately, it’s crazy easy and crazy delicious.



  1. 2 boneless chicken breasts
  2. 2 tablespoons olive oil
  3. sea salt to taste
  4. 1 sprig of thyme (i sometimes use dried thyme & it works too)
  5. juice of 1/2 lemon (i use meyer lemons from our tree & you can’t beat them)
  6. 1 spring (green) onion (just 1 sprig works), chopped


  1. pre-heat oven to 400 degrees
  2. brush both sides of chicken breasts with olive oil & add sea salt to both sides
  3. place in a casserole dish & sprinkle thyme & chopped green onion over the top
  4. squeeze 1/2 lemon over the top of chicken (there will be standing liquid in the bottom of the pan, this is cool)
  5. bake until lightly golden, about 25 minutes


the end.

a week of outfits.

this month included a birthday, a couple of parties and a vacation, which called for some dressing up and dressing down. it also involved a whole lot of working out and even a 2 day juice cleanse, followed by a 4 day booze & junk food free for all. i realize that no matter how hard i try, there is no getting rid of my hips, which is made v v clear when i wear white high waist pants. also i feel best in mid-calf length skirts and holy cow i totally get why button downs are such a thing. it took me about 38 years but i have really come around to the button down as THE wardrobe staple. additionally despite jenna lyons being gone i’m really on a j. crew kick lately.  the end.


the wisdom of no escape.

at the beginning of the summer i felt pretty heavy with worry. i knew a big routine shift was coming with the end of the school year and transition to summer school, and i spent about a month frantically trying to schedule everything to make sure our days would be full. i fought like hell to re-schedule my son’s aba therapy to accommodate his schedule and not lose his favorite therapist, i planned out each day so that things would move seamlessly in the least disruptive way for my son, but of course it didn’t move seamlessly. there were seams. there were rips and tears and holes and finally everything just sort of fell apart. phantom illnesses and reactions i never anticipated happened, and in the middle of all of it my son’s favorite therapist up and moved to southern california (news which the company that she works for failed to tell me until her last day).

when things fall apart i usually find it pretty impossible not to see the lesson in it. i feel like when things hit crisis level, it’s typically the universe shouting at me to pay attention to something. like, now. pretty early into the summer i sensed that something needed to give.

i had a conversation with my oldest friend this summer about walking on eggshells. both children of alcoholics, we spent our childhoods tip toeing around our parents’ moods, doing out best to not make any false moves and set them off. in turn, we both grew up and had babies that had colic. we both spent the first 4-5 months of our babies lives scrambling to keep them from flying into a crying rage (that often lasted for hours on end). we were talking about the cycle of our lives, how we spent out childhoods walking on eggshells and then had babies that made us keep walking on eggshells. and we both wondered how we break that cycle for our children. for ourselves.

my son having colic, and then being on the autism spectrum has left me feeling like i am walking on eggshells for most of his life. it also keeps me feeling like i constantly must do everything perfectly or things will fall apart, and inevitably they ALWAYS DO because there is no perfect anything. there’s no way to keep the world from hurling random snowballs at your head and no way to always duck just in time. and i cannot blame my son for this, because this is the way that i have lived my life for as long as i can recall. this has been my experience of life: you must struggle and sweat and agonize and strive for perfection, and when someone is not impressed or criticizes you or just doesn’t give a rip, it feels like utter and complete failure. and reaffirms all of the beliefs about how flawed i am that are in there mighty friggin’ deep.

so this summer i drove myself nuts trying to line it all up perfectly and it all went down in flames. and what happened is that i was left all alone with my son every day. just the two of us, as it was before all of the therapies and school started. and to my surprise i knew exactly what to do. i just had to be with him and love him more than anything in the world (because i do). and i found that once little things fell through over and over, i finally got to the point where i realized that none of it really mattered. not really. what matters is that i love my son no matter what happens. not much else matters.

what has continually astounded me about motherhood is here is this person who holds this mirror up to all of my deepest flaws and ISSUES and yet, the inclination to bolt isn’t there, not physically. you have to make the choice whether or not you are going to bolt emotionally. it forces me to be present in times where i would normally check out. and no matter how much he pushes my buttons, i still wake up every day honestly stoked and overjoyed to see his face. every day. and i love being the person that he looks at with shock when something hurts him or amazement and joy when something excites him.

what motherhood has taught me is that there’s nothing to do but be here. stepping back and letting things happen and being open to all of it: good and bad and pain in the ass, has made life so much sweeter. sometimes shit goes haywire, and my son has meltdowns, and sometimes he just has good old fashioned tantrums like a 3 year old does, and sometimes i can’t fix whatever is not going the way he wants. but lately i’ve been trying to let those moments happen without adding the stress of my shit on top of it. i’ve been trying to “pause” in those moments where i feel like a failure or like people are looking at me and judging me or whatever, and trying to connect with my son in those moments instead of shut down. i have been looking at my son in those moments and just loving him and wanting to help him get through it. and more than anything, i’ve been having faith that we will get through it. that the storm will pass. and we’re going to be ok.


four days in the desert staying at the entirely gorgeous and v v swanky parker hotel, where we somehow scored the loveliest and most fancy suite ever. we spent our days sipping champagne lemon drops by the “family” pool (aka the not sexy pool), where my son tried to flirt with european tweens and little redheaded girls and i dug through the september issues of elle and vogue while (strangely) pauly shore paced around the pool talking on his cell phone. we also had one too many pina coladas at the ace while chatting with the staff about renegade desert parking lot minutemen shows and my high school crush on mike watt. we did our best to get through a plate of cheese fries at pappy and harriets and wound up hanging out in the back of a truck filled with punk rock t-shirts where the extremely kind proprietor gifted my son a set of rocky & clubber lang dolls which he has not let go of since. we also partook in bottomless champagne brunches and hung out at iconic atomic vintage digging through bags of 1960’s bikinis and costume jewelry and bar cloth shirts. all in all it was a dream trip, one which my liver and metabolism will likely need months to recover from.