a week of outfits.

another month down. i’ve been trying to incorporate a little denim into my life by way of of a vintage levi’s jacket that my husband found at a thrift store for me & some 90’s throwback flares, but it’s really just not me. perhaps i’m just too fancy for denim. perhaps! there is a color pallet that revolves around camel/tan/khaki that i can’t get enough of these days, and i pretty much spent the last month trying to re-create maryam nassir zadeh’s spring 18 collection via thrift stores. scouring thrift stores to recreate looks is, by the way, probably my favorite thing to do. so there you have it.



a week of spending.

in the spirit of full disclosure, allow me to give you a week of my spends. i do my best to stay on a budget that errs more on the side of saving and less on the side of lattes, but this week was not without it’s budget blowers. firstly i had a rare ladies night out on tha town, and secondly i allowed myself a few impulse buys from the likes of walmart (where cheap lil’ cute and not exactly necessary things line up at the end of every isle like low hanging fruit in a video game) and amazon (which is pretty much the new target). were i being a perfect angel i would have foregone many of these things, but it was all in the name of fun or a hangover or outfits or bad hair so, those guys won.

monday: $40.65 amazon. i needed bubble bath for my son, so i threw in a super cool clear plastic belt and a fancy hair mask for my fried split ends.

tuesday: $24 at sprouts. had to do a grocery run for essentials aka non-dairy creamer, dark chocolate, avocados and fancy lollipops for my son. i also bought some ingredients to make a birthday cake for my hubs AND another hair mask because my hair is a problem you guys.

wednesday: $23 at walmart. my son works on a barter system in which he does things “for me” like going to school and to the bathroom in exchange for toys (which i have to buy for him). i really got the short end of the stick on this one. so i spent about $12 on little mini thomas trains and spent another $6 on a pair of granny panties, 40 cents on some bright colored felt (for cutting into little hearts) and $3 on a flower sheet mask purchased solely because of this episode of jimmy fallon with drew barrymore (starts at 1:42). i grew up with drew b and i will love her ’till the end of time and sure hope she can improve my face.

thursday: $0. had a meeting with my boss which i held at my house so no dollars were spent. i baked a cake and we had a lil’ birthday party when my husband got home.

friday: $36 at a wine bar. a super extremely rare night out with my best ladies. we split some pickled items, nuts and olives and i threw back a few glasses of cava. my bff treated me to an espresso afterwards.

saturday: $5.55 at starbucks. i do my best to avoid buying coffee but i was feeling a bit hungover so i got a matcha latte. my son & i made grain free banana pancakes for breakfast and spent the day listening to the best of the 80’s and reading pete the cat books. my husband brought home a rotisserie chicken for dinner and we watched a documentary on mick ronson.

sunday: $84 at trader joe’s & $10.34 at thrift town. this was the big grocery run for the week. afterwards i hit the thrift store b/c i had a coupon for $10 off $20. found a thomas the train pillow (like new after a wash) for my son, a khaki skirt, a tan blouse, a super rad 80’s lime green top, a nearly new snake print belt with an orange buckle and a pretty bowl to hold all of the fruit we don’t eat. we had cobb salad for dinner and watched atomic blonde which my husband & i found entertaining and my son found v v upsetting because he’s a pacifist but also cool because he loves the 80’s.

grande totale: $223.54




a personal outfit history.

  1. aged 3. navy velour puff sleeve shirt with plaid collar with lace trim.
  2. aged 3. blue calico dress over white tights with a bright red coat. note that i am holding a snakeskin clutch. as one does.
  3. aged 4. pink floral babydoll dress with ruffled sleeves & straw cowboy hat. pretending to talk on the phone while my dolls & brother watched.
  4. aged 5. blue blouse with puff sleeves & high collar trimmed with white lace under a white calico print babydoll dress with tie shoulders.
  5. aged 5. same outfit as noted above, worn over white tights with black patent leather mary janes.
  6. aged 6. brownie uniform, from the jc penny catalog, designed by one roy halston.
  7. aged 7. striped dress with bib collar worn with peep toe kitten heels over white ankle socks. shout out to my brother in the shortest shorts ever.
  8. aged 8. wrap front linen dress worn with knee high yellow tube socks & powder pink velcro dad sneakers.
  9. aged 8. tiered ruffle dress with tie shoulders. double shout out to my brother in the 2nd shortest shorts ever, worn with tube socks, a visor and a pair of binoculars.
  10. aged 9. pink polka dot dress, doing little to conceal my emerging breasts. this photo was taken by my grandmother, who proceeded to feel me up & then take me to macy’s and have me felt up by another old lady in the lingerie department before sending me home to my mother with a training bra.
  11. aged 10. vintage 50’s prom dress with bow front & tulle overlay skirt, purchased at a thrift store and worn with a giant turquoise feather in my hair.
  12. aged 11. striped puff sleeve shirt & pink denim skirt. unfortunate haircut and unintentional upskirt shot, both by my mother.

a week of outfits.


ah, february. this month saw 75 degree days and 45 degree days. bare legs and thick winter coats. i did a lot of closet clearing this month, but i also did some shopping. i felt possessed by a deep need for satin in my life and unable to pass up ganni satin fringe shorts that were 60% off, and a vintage chloe satin slip dress for $40. i tried out a fancy hand embroidered chinese style satin blouse (bought on super extra sale at anthropologie), and a highly strange ruffled pajama ensemble (bought on super extra sale at thrift town) but ultimately felt like i was cheating on getting dressed by wearing jammies out of the house. i bought a classic white button down shirt & a black turtleneck sweater both 2 sizes too big and scored the sweetest pair of clear plastic heels for $5 at a thrift store. this month i played around with neutrals- white, black, and the new white & black: tan & neon lime green. i dared to ask if a red corset bag and gold celine ballerina heels go with everything, to which the fashion gods replied, “yep.”


of a fire on the moon.

it goes like this. for months i cannot cry. i hold myself together with quiet discomposure. heavy with a presentiment. my body, the hand grenade. and then, a paroxysm of weeping. i spend my days waiting for the other shoe to drop. and repeatedly, it does. and when it does, i tell myself it will get better. and sometimes it does. but that other shoe, suspended above me by a single hair. the sword of damocles. a pocket full of cliches. a penny for your thoughts.

when he was a baby he started to say words. mama. hi. i did. and then, they disappeared. he never stopped making noise. he never stopped babbling. but the words disappeared. became formless. and then it began. mining for radium. the months of work to find those words again. when they came back, they were different. a subtle change in pitch. in emphasis. in tone. human perception of string tension & compliance. atmospheric layers.

when the girls come (they are always girls); with their clip boards and ipads and their fancy water bottles and yoga pants; they check their boxes. they give things to him and take them away. they trick him with their words. they trick him, over and over. they say he is doing so much better he is doing so much worse. they teach him to say no to say i don’t want to to say i don’t like it. they teach him to say no thank you no thanks. and then they tell him do it anyway and then they tell him you must. they say first this, then that they say what does the fire engine what does the train say. the sky is blue a bird has wings you eat with a fork and other sordid truths. and how can i explain that nothing really means what it is supposed to. how do you teach the dialect of negation. the social contract. the irony of faith. allusions. they snap their fingers they put out their hands they motion sit they motion stand. non-verbal cues. prescribed manipulation.

i sit in my chair i sit on my hands and i want to scream louder than he does. they tell me to look away; to ignore him when he is in the thick of it- screaming and throwing things. to ignore it when he looks to me to make it all better. part of me dies in each of those moments. i must admit: i am terrified that if i am not the one to console him; to jump through twenty thousand hoops; to tread so carefully along a tight rope; to walk over shards of glass to get to where he needs to be. if i am not the one. if i deny those clear moments where his eyes lock onto mine. that they will disappear into the void. that he will no longer look to me. for comfort. for affection. and the sun will cease to shine in my life.

i used to think it was anger. blind rage. the cinder block that lives at the pit of my core; its porous edges expanding daily. and the enormity of its grayness which reaches, with smoke like fingers, and wraps itself around the base of my throat. i realize now that it is actually fear. terror, in fact. i am the lion. i am protector. by design. who would i be if not that. what role should i play. in this insane world. where the goal is correction; where the goal is to tame the untamable; name the unnamable; make the crooked straight. we keep on breaking all the wild horses.


(featured on the ma books)