British Beauties

If you know me, it's no secret that I am head over heels for Sienna Miller. She embodies everything I love about British fashion and her childlike, playful persona transfers impeccably onscreen. It doesn't hurt that she played one of my other favorites, Edie Sedgwick, in Factory Girl, either! There is something so appealing about her that makes me want to watch every film she has ever been a part of and then some. Today, I satisfied my Sienna craving with, "The Edge of Love". Sienna, alongside Kiera Knightley swept me off my feet yet again. The film took place during WWII England and Wales, and I am overwhelmed with how timeless these ladies looked in every scene. The film was disturbing in many ways and also quite real. The bond between the two females was so strong, it made me yearn for female companionship. There is something so deeply moving about the bond two best friends can share, a relationship so complex and mysterious, I am tempted to say finding a friendship like theirs as depicted in the film is as difficult as finding your soul mate. I'm going off on tangents here and this may be a story for another day. The bottom line is I was completely inspired emotionally and stylistically by this film and the bond the two female leads shared.

Chic Traveler

As I plan for my next adventure southward, I am torn between two schools of travel fashion thought. This certainly isn't a European jet-setting get away and should thus be treated differently in all regards. Traveling by rail through Europe, my bags were full of dry clean only skirts, my leather bomber, chic scarves, Parisian vintage couture, and teeny tiny dresses. For this next trip I have gone in the complete opposite direction and after assessing my purchases, I decided a few timeless travel classics might aid me in looking a little less adolescent boy and a little more classic journey woman. While I will be bringing classic layering pieces acquired at the GoLite warehouse sale and some Lululemon stretchy items, I also want to incorporate some transitional pieces for when I'm feeling a little less sporty. Packing is truly an art and not one that I have mastered. I am the girl who paid for luggage long before the airlines went budget, mainly due to an inability to pack a suitcase under 50 lbs. as my father can testify to. But with the help of my boyfriend and an awesome Osprey backpack, I am learning the art of packing light. Here are a few items that have made the cut.

Patagonia convertible pants = pants + capris in one!

Vince oversized, long grey racer back tank top - this piece is so versatile, wear it hiking and then wear it with a mini skirt style sarong later that night

Gypsy 05 tie-dyed long dress, so comfy for long bus rides

Classic safari hat, to be honest I'm picturing Nicole Kidman or some other gamine blond, but I think I can rock it

Masks

Sitting in the one and only Professor David Gross's European Intellectual History Class this time last year, I was fascinated, enthralled, disgusted, and captivated by the concept of the Appollonian and Dionysian masks so prevalent through out time and space in human life. I am so anxious to throw off the social norms and expectations that have bound me but so helpless as to how one achieves such a massive goal. The masks are most often referenced in literature, the ultimate juxtaposition of good versus evil, bound versus freedom. The paradox I am referring to specifically is that of the free, hedonistic, god of wine and sex and sybaritic pleasures opposed to the stoic, angelic, fulfiller of duties and moral obligations. Why are these polarities so forcibly separated, when in life they are so inextricably intertwined?

Sometimes I wonder whether every individual possesses their own balance and this is only offset by the moralities imposed upon us by laws, religion, and societal expectations. I would love to take off my mask, throw it in the ocean to sink with other relics that no longer apply or possess a place in today's world, but I haven't figured out which mask I'm wearing or how to remove it. Nietzsche often spoke of this very dilemma, of the difficulties in shedding all that has been imposed upon us in order to reveal our true selves. This is one of many resolutions I have made for myself, but the true difficult is not in its achievement, but in its recognition.

Parsva Bakasana

I woke up groggily this morning and headed over to the yoga studio in hopes of starting my week off a little more actively than the last one. Sometimes I just know it's going to be tough day at yoga, whether it's because my hips are closed or my mind is. Today was definitely not one of those days. I successfully extended through with both legs and held side crow on both sides today and I am feeling very accomplished! There is something so rewarding about working toward a posture each day, and finally the moment when you look down at your fingertips and realize you are successfully IN the pose. My yoga instructors have often said, "It's a yoga practice, not a yoga perfect." This sentiment guides my practice. Rather than expecting everything in yoga, and in life, to look or feel exactly as you desire or expect it to, it is often equally or more beneficial to simply feel what is taking place without judgment and expectation. And eventually, if you are dedicated and try hard enough, you can, in my case, extend your legs onto the back of your forearms, and fly.

Let's Pretend

Let's pretend it's not 40 degrees outside and gusting wind. Let's pretend there's a beachside chaise lounge with a fluffy hotel towel warming itself in the late afternoon sun, a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade leaving condensation on the armchair. Yes, I am one of many who begins to lose faith a little bit as the winter months drag on endlessly while my skin grows paler and my patience thinner. To be honest, January and February give me the blues. The holiday season fades into a distant memoir of the year that has past in the last sparkling minutes of a new year's countdown, and spring isn't even a glimmer on the horizon. As I settle into this wintery dilemma, I wonder whether I will be able to live in cold climates for another year. And yet, I do. Perhaps in some ways I would miss the seasons changing too much, or maybe the idea of endless summer is so unfathomable that I cease to believe it exists. There really isn't much I wouldn't give for some beachside r&r right now. Since the probability of such an occurrence is slim, I will dream of what I would be wearing, let's pretend....

Generation Y

We care less about salaries and more about a "work-life balance", we don't live to work but work to live, we want nice bosses, positive reinforcement, to make a difference and not be treated as subordinates. In other words we want a complete restructuring of the traditional model of the workplace, we want to travel and volunteer, we want to be treated with respect and even coddled a little bit, and we don't want a traditional 40 hour work week. But what we want goes a lot deeper than that, I believe. We want to experience everything, and see the world, we want non-profits to be profitable enough to work for so we can support the materialism our hard working Baby Boomer parents doused us in, we want a two hour lunch to go to yoga and a flexible schedule so we can go skiing. In fact, we work well with deadlines but not as well with direct oversight. But the fact of the matter is, for many of us work feels like an obligation that will pass with time allowing us to go on and accomplish all of the saving the world humanitarian goodness we were always told we could do if we wanted to. So while I sit here at my desk, staring at electronics in varying shades of gray, manila folders piled around me like a fortress, I wonder how I will see the world, support a family someday, and not sell my soul to the 9-5 durdgery that already has me within its grasp.

"Can't repeat the past...Why of course you can!" - F. Scott Fitzgerald

The holiday season has come and gone, the Christmas tree's needles have lost their scent and even the snow is a tinge more grey. Yet I am quite possibly the jolliest I have been in a while. Perhaps, it is my newly acquired acceptances to law school, or an upcoming journey that will be further disclosed at a later date. But more than likely it is my realization that I refuse to settle in my career, my relationships, my intellectual pursuits and in my own personal philosophy.

I read a book while snuggled up in Chicago over Christmas that led to many, many revelations. The book was called, "The Red Leather Diary", and the revelations were regarding my mind, my aesthetic and my dreams. The 1920s-1940s in Manhattan were depicted magically in a flourish of theatre, opera, literature, gowns, furriers, Adirondack summers, and travel by sea, trunk full of fineries included. I have always known this current day and age is not for me, and it was only after reading this book that I realized it would have been possible to be the pondering, philosophical, dynamic woman I am in the early 1900s. Oh to travel across the Atlantic, having romances with royalty, handmade dresses abound, crinoline bows in my hair and a literary salon in my living room, oh how lovely it would all have been.

Louis Vuitton travel trunk


The S.S. Queen Mary

Cote d'Azure 1920s Poster

The one and only

Roxy Theatre, 1930

Crinoline gowns avec sashes