diary.

an odd october, and one that flew by. wildfire panic and what felt like endless smokey days trapped indoors. once the fires settled i felt incredibly grateful to be outside, breathing fresh air. every weekend visiting family or up to something in the yard. doing my best to remember to enjoy every minute of sunshine while it lasts by not complaining about flukey hot days. letting myself be moved by twinkling bridge lights and burnt umber leaves and the glorious symmetry of solange and her band, by cupcake squeals and joan didion’s long fingers and california digger pines.

the end.

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diary.

a fond farewell to summer. overall it didn’t disappoint. an anniversary, a rare date night, a surprise visit from a v v dear friend, saturdays swimming at the local public pool, countless hours spent working on the yard & countless hours spent enjoying the yard: reading my favorite female authors, writing in my journal, having drinks with my husband during nap time. always sad to see september and summer go, but i can’t deny that it’s time for a new season.

diary.

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.

diary.

diary.

a week of outfits.

lately i’ve been feeling like vintage is where it’s at and staring into my closet at the designer items i have that remain on their hangers for fear of chocolate smudges and sweat stains and the messiness of chasing around a 3 year old. i’ve also been burned this year by some purchases, for example the jacquemus dress pictured above that i have been hunting for months, lost out on 3 different times, finally found, paid too much for and then tore at the hip button while trying it on (guess i’m not returning that one). lately i’ve felt like online shopping is more trouble than it’s worth. also i have a lot more fun mining for gold in thrift stores & flea markets and putting together outfits i can actually wear. so my designer discount days may be done, for now anyway. otherwise i’m surprised to find that shorts are back, as are overalls & jumpsuits (three things i have always bought incessantly & also things i thought i’d sworn off). also yellow really is the new black. yellow, orange yellow, yellow on yellow, yellow and gold. yellow, yellow, yellow.

the end.