if i had to choose her or the sun i'd be one nocturnal son of a gun

Went to Octane for my weekly Illy coffee fix. I always get the soy cafe latte there. Sometimes the barista makes pretty designs. (I didn't get one yesterday; I'm challenging you to make me something pretty the next time I'm there, man-with-the-DIY-tiedye-shirt.)

Dreary weather calls for dressing like a hobo. Except you have to luxe it up with fur, otherwise people are going to mistake you for a real one and throw pennies in your $4 latte.




dress. James Perse. shirt. Ralph Lauren. sweater. Uniqlo. leather jacket. Zara. fur vest. Aqua. platforms. Pour la Victoire. bag. Diesel.

in the daylight anywhere feels like home

Ever since I saw "The Motorcycle Diaries" starring Gael Garcia Bernal, I've been obsessed with mate. I've also been obsessed with Gael Garcia Bernal and have seen nearly all of the movies he's ever made. (Note: "Rudo Y Cursi" is not award winning material. Snore.)

But back to the mate, it's perfect for grey days such as today and calls for curling up on the couch with a great book. Try "Possession" by A.S. Byatt. Any book that takes place in Oxford has me sold.








top. vintage. vest. Aqua. pants. Topshop. socks. ???. shoes. Miss Sixty.

happiness hit her like a train on a track

So glad that the first decade of the 2000's is over. 2005 was pretty awesome, but the rest of it was extremely forgettable. Instead of doing resolutions (because I refuse to give up smoking, drinking, swearing, and rampant spending even if you put a gun to my head), I've decided to stick with yearlong goals. I have a year to learn how to drive a stick, speak decent French, and master Photoshop. Have you broken your resolution or are you succeeding at making 2010 the beginning of a new you?

I make messes on my rug. My favorite part of the day is turning my bag upside down and spilling its content all over the floor. Netflix DVDs, packages from the mail, dresses I've stuffed into my bag for the weekend... BLOOP.




jacket. Zara. dress. Rodarte for Target. shoes. Jeffrey Campbell. bag. Diesel.

remember when 21 years was old???

If you've been following me on Twitter, you'll know that I've spent the last few days of 2009 in Orlando, celebrating the last of this godforsaken decade at the happiest place on Earth (or so Disney claims). A significant amount of memories were made on this trip, including but not restricting the fact that at some point I was running around the suburbs of Orlando and ended up at the door of a psychic who told me that I was going to be married in the next six years to a man whose name starts with an "R." I don't know anybody whose name starts with an R, which means that from now until the next 6 years, I'm going to flip out whenever I meet a man named R---.

But beyond all that, the highlight of the trip had to be watching a 3 year-old boy throw a tantrum in the middle of a bathroom at Magic Kingdom because he didn't get to flush the toilet. It was disgusting and hilarious to watch him plop down in the middle of a pile of discarded toilet paper.