Tuesday, August 16th, 2016
These past few months have been incredible. My world has been pummeled by unfortunate events. And as I sit here vulnerable and on the verge of tears, I know I’m better for it all. As motionless as I sometimes feel, the reality is, I haven’t been allowed to stand still. The perpetual motion is what keeps me sane. I’m growing and learning and it’s exhausting and beautiful and all of these words that I want to badly to find in this moment, but simply can’t.
I’ve reached this nomadic point in my life, where I have no sense of home or belonging, just an intensely selfish craving for more. More life, more love, more passion, more depth, more beauty, more sadness, more anything, and you don’t get the things you don’t ask for.
This belligerent passion I have for the quiet details that seek no attention is blinding. I want to embrace that. I want the peculiarities inside of me to thrive. To be the person that I want to be, I have to tweak and change the things in my control. I have to purge the negative from my life. The environment I’m in — the company that I keep. It’s an incredibly intimidating process to me, because these things make up who I am presently, just not necessarily the person I’m on the verge on becoming.
I’m always questioning what attracted all of these ethereal people and storybook circumstances to my world. Fate? Chance? Did I do something right in a past life? It’s humbling. That’s why I want to do better and that’s why I want to be better. I want to strive for something I know I’ll never be — deserving.
Something inside of me needs to be ignited. It’s scary to set your insides on fire, but the phoenix is always reborn from its ashes. I am nothing but questions and ethanol, and I’m about to light a match on myself.
Monday, July 18th, 2016
Drum sets filling your kitchen, music escaping through the walls, me drowning in your covers. Calm, reckless, arms around me. How can something so fleeting feel so solid? Chaos, caution, afraid of what’s to come. We both crave a jet setting life, never staying in one place for too long, just genuine, enchanting rarities. No one ever mentioned we would describe quiet moments with one another just the same.
So, just this once, with the light is pouring in through the curtains, we are still.
Friday, June 24th, 2016
Working with QTee has to be one of my favorite things. I’m obsessed with how many custom shirt and color options they have (um and hats and shoes and more what) so naturally I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to add to my mermaid obsession with this top I’ve been obsessing over for months. I chose some summery pastels on top of a black based oversized boyfriend tee, and I am loving the contrast. Am I a mermaid yet?
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said with his fingers tangled greedily through her silver-blonde hair.
“What are you, some sort of unicorn? No, I’ve got it — a mermaid!”
So she smiled, bright-eyed, as if she’d never heard the line before, genuine as it may have been. Her voice was still lost with him, as if stolen by Ursela herself. That’s who she was, here on this terrestrial planet she never truly belonged, yet somehow craved endlessly: she was silent. She treaded quietly, not quite sure how to carry the weight of it all with only her two shaky legs supporting her, not setting it down, terrified of leaving the earth she’s romanticized her entire life more broken than the moment she set foot onto it.
But you see, she had a world of her own — something celestial, hidden from the earthly plane. A world as elusive as her own heart. A place she’d never needed to tread quietly on, where even her most ineffable thoughts, were transformed into sonorous, full words, resonating intent, echoed with love.
The surface is where she peered out everyday, with the deepest sense of sonder and longing, almost envying the unconscious strangers unwittingly passing by not noticing the world she felt inside of her, wondering if ignorance really is bliss.
Once in a blue moon, someone seemingly familiar would catch her attention. Someone with kind eyes and a wandering heart that made her wish she could simply take their hands, interlace their fingers into her own, and dive deep into her ethereal world.
The problem was, her transcendental hideaway was also quite cavernous and admittedly slightly disorienting, as unfamiliar places normally are. Still finding herself lost occasionally, she was only just getting used to the depth of the waters surrounding her peculiar little world, learning how to breathe again, recalling the ways to the surface.
Most weren’t able to even dip their toes in without being pulled in, leaving their thoughts too obscured by the foreign waters to remember how to swim. But there still is a girl somewhere out there, seeking refuge in an incredibly convoluted, exceedingly isolated, strangely beautiful world, alone but not necessarily lonely, singing a melody too old for her to remember, waiting for someone as curious as her to wander into the unknown, breaking through the surface of the sacred, boundless world she’s been building inside herself for all these years, because even mermaids ache to feel understood once in awhile, I suppose.
Thursday, April 28th, 2016
I’ve rewritten this post so many times, trying to find words that resonated with me that would also make sense to you. In the past few weeks, I’ve been going through these extreme phases of hurt, happiness, determination, depression, inspiration, self-destruction, you name it, I’ve felt it. I’ve been so out of sorts mentally, which is extremely peculiar for me during the springtime. But it’s a thing and I have to face it to gain some sort of clarity and fresh start. That fresh start begins now, so I can finally enjoy my spring and all the beautiful things that come with it, like pastels, swimsuits, floppy hats, and fresh flowers. Instead of distracting myself, I’ve written my feelings and turned them into something beautiful and I’m finally on the other side, continuing to create this life and environment where I thrive, surrounded by positivity and love. This post is just a quick reminder that feelings are fleeting. Feel what you need to feel and feel it deeply, and then move on. Drink good coffee, read good books, take care of your heart and do the things that spark fire in your soul, fight the disinterest, and just keep moving forward, not because it is your only option, but because it is your best option. Keep radiating your light, and your happiness will be returned to you.
Wednesday, March 9th, 2016
Welcome to my hair: a tangled mess of fine, thin hair that’s normally doused in dry shampoo and curls. I’ve learned through the years how to manage my specific hair type, however, and after a year of requests, I’m finally ready to share my tips and products with you!
Like I said above, my hair is fine, thin, and lifeless, because of this, my mane gets oily after only a few hours. Seriously. So naturally, I always have some degree of dry shampoo throughout it. My favorite as of late is this Batiste in blonde. I love the scent and the fact that you can choose a tint, so your hair doesn’t resemble a Victorian powdered wig after you apply it.
When I do wash my hair, (and I do, I promise!) I use a variety of shampoos. There’s currently three brands in my shower, ha! I’m always experimenting, but my favorite shampoo ever, is Güd by Burt’s Bees in Vanilla Flame simply for the smell. I am an absolute sucker for anything vanilla and sweet! The conditioner, however, even though it smells just as heavenly, isn’t my cup of tea, as it does nothing for my poor tangles. My hair stylist recently introduced me to Kevin Murphy products, specifically the Kevin Murphy Angel Wash and Angel Rinse and I am utterly obsessed. It doesn’t have the nasty fillers that most shampoos and conditioners do, and it smells like how my dreams feel. Oh and PS, shout-out to Macie, who cuts my hair and gives the best hair advice. You can find her at Bzar Salon!
Moving onto my absolute favorite deep conditioner: Sebastian Penetraitt. It’s absolute crack to me. Just try it.
My hair is naturally fragile, and I get my hair lifted a few shades, which doesn’t help the matter, so of course I have a favorite overnight mask, and it’s nothing more than organic, non-refined, extra virgin coconut oil. slob some in, put your hair up, sleep, shower in the morning, wash it extremely well, and bam, soft hair. I swear by coconut oil.
My last and probably my favorite tip, is hair extensions. As I’ve repeated over and over in this post, I have thin, thin hair. I have the length, but to add that extra kick of volume and depth, I use Irresistible Me extensions in color #613 nearly everyday! Since I just need that extra thickness, personally, I only use the four weft section near the bottom of my hair. To say I’m obsessed is an understatement. The quality of the hair is impeccable. I’ve worn a lot of extensions in the past, but this brand wildly surpassed my expectations. I’m never not touching them, whether I have them styled in a braid, or just down and crazy. It’s just really fun to experiment with different hair lengths and volumes, honestly. The possibilities are endless!
So, there it is, my amateur hair care. What is your own favorite tip or product that you use? Let me know in the comments! I LOVE hearing from you!
Monday, February 8th, 2016
Since I had such a positive response to my first skincare routine, it’s time to kick off the start of an updated version. I’ve changed and improved it quite a bit since my last skincare post, and let’s be honest, who wouldn’t trust this face?
My skin is weird, okay? It’s sensitive and sometimes I have dragon scales and sometimes my makeup goes on it funny when I don’t maintain it properly.
Let’s talk about daily products. Every morning in the shower I use Cetaphil’s Gentle Skin Cleanser. It’s perfect for my sensitive skin, simultaneously cleansing and hydrating. I also use Oxy’s Rapid Treatment Wash on my back and chest to prevent sad spots that keep me from wearing my favorite backless dresses.
The moisturizer I still use and continue to praise is Cetaphil’s Moisturizing Cream. I use this twice a day (more heavily at night) and on my body occasionally after showers.
At night, I also use Vaseline’s Lip Therapy and it is hands down, the best lip treatment I have ever used. I use it every night and wake up every morning with the softest lips in the land. If you take anything from this post, take this. It is one of my favorite products to date.
I have gone through so many different makeup removers in my life, from MAC. to drugstore brands, to simply coconut oil, but none of them met every one of my needs. I don’t like super oily products, I want to know what’s going on my face, and I need to take my makeup off effortlessly every night, so I made my own with three tablespoons of coconut oil, two tablespoons of my Cetaphil face wash, and two cups of water poured into a jar (or three) of cotton rounds as shown here.
My favorite weekly (or every couple of days) products that I use, are still St. Ive’s Apricot Scrub for my face and a homemade body scrub made of brown sugar and coconut oil.
Besides the products, my all-time favorite hack to better skin is a smoothie nearly every morning, with bananas, almond milk, and berries full of antioxidants, as well as mass amounts of water throughout the day. I would preach about sleep here as well, but I don’t get much of that anyway.
My disorderly combination skin goes through more phases than a middle school girl, but for the first time in my life, I can feel myself growing more and more comfortable in my own skin, which is something I never thought I would be able to say, and goodness I hope you feel the way I’m just beginning to feel at some point in your life because you are so lovely.
Tuesday, December 8th, 2015
Well, hello there, friends. It sure has been a bit since the last time I’ve posted, and I suppose I should explain why I’ve practically been hiding out. You see, over the summer, I was in my hometown (a tiny little midwest town), posting regularly. I had a plan; I was doing what I thought I loved, and doing it successfully, and that was that. It was simple. When I came back to Lawrence, just like that, my inspiration slipped, and all of a sudden, I felt so incredibly undeserving. Of success, of dreams, of happiness. I don’t know how to explain it — I just didn’t feel like enough anymore.
People I’d never met thought they knew me, when the truth is, I didn’t even know me. Weeks passed and I lost sight of some of the little things that I’m made up of. I started trying to make everybody happy with me to overcompensate for the fact that I wasn’t happy with myself. I was trying to keep up with and fit the image of what everyone made me out to be instead of treating my blog as what I created it for. I wasn’t growing with my blog anymore; it was growing, and I was plateauing.
I needed the chance to remind myself of who I am outside of this internet vortex, and who I want to be.
No, I’m actually not the girl who “just takes pretty pictures.”
I’m the weird girl you honestly probably would have ignored in high school, with too much fervor in her eyes, questions in her bones, coffee in her cup, and adventure in her heart. I open up my journal every night like an old wound and I willingly bleed into the pages, searching for something beautiful. Yes, winter makes me sad, but I take comfort in knowing that spring will come, and when it does, the earth will thaw, and I will once again be surrounded by life. Human anatomy fascinates me, veins humble me, and the sky makes me feel small, but I could never stop looking up at it. I still write love poems and I still fold them into origami hearts when I should be doing my math homework, but I still receive high marks in math and I’ve still never been in love outside of convoluted moments; regardless, I’m always in love. Whether it’s with a person’s laugh, or the way the leaves fall from a tree, I’m never not in love. I’m terrified of small talk and of my own body. I’m horrible at hellos and better at goodbyes, but expiration dates don’t make letting go any easier. When I’m sick or sad I take vanilla in my coffee. I’m so filled with wanderlust and nostalgia to the point where it hurts to even think about. I want to be a writer and I want to follow my dreams and even though I am flawed and cracked and broken and perpetually searching for metaphors, I am enough and so are you.
Wednesday, October 28th, 2015
Despite the beautiful weather echoing my summer reveries here lately in Lawrence, Kansas, fall is in full swing. The leaves are falling and the trees are dying, but I, however, am living with as much purpose as I can muster and I fully intend to stay in sync with this little upward spiral of mine.
Lately I’ve been especially in tune with what kind of path I want to follow and what kind of human I plan on becoming. Developing healthy, positive habits is a tedious process to say the least, but at this point in my life, it’s what I need to be doing if I’m serious about everything I want.
And I am.
Once you make a real decision, there’s just no half-assing your way to your dreams. Just sliding by to achieve your goals isn’t fulfilling in the slightest, because once you’re there, all you can think about is where you could be if you were genuinely putting your all into your daily life.
Do yourself a favor, and stay present. Take the signs that the universe gives you and run.
You are lovely and you are deserving and you can do whatever the hell you want.
In between realizing my dreams and planning my entire life out, I was contacted by SPGBK to feature their watches on my blog, and I cannot even describe to you how ecstatic I was to collaborate with a company whose branding and demographics are so closely related to where I’m at in my own life! I just know you all would love them. Hello, this company was started by two frat brothers who met in college (!!!) Their careers stemmed from a multitude of things they were both passionate about, and I respect that all too much. I especially love the simple, nautical feel of this watch and how it just tops off everything in my closet so flawlessly.
Fall has me living in flannels and little booties, as per usual. Whether I’m at a coffee shop, planning a trip to the pumpkin patch, or a Halloween party with my friends, that’s what I’m living in. What’s your go to uniform this fall?
Wednesday, October 14th, 2015
acid hands and coffee souls
dazed nights spent worshiping the records that played just for us.
Dirty hair and clean slates.
Surrounded by tall boys with guitars in their hands and cigarettes in their mouths, wishing our names would float through their lips even half as elusively as that smoke.
Fed by city lights and late night reveries alone;
I’ve never been frightened by solitude, but hearts on sleeves and brains on hold —
we danced together anyway.
I’m sure you have all realized by now that I’m a bit peculiar. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s a bad thing, most of the time it’s just odd. From blue lipstick to my urge to adventure whether it be in Paris or at a 7 eleven, my little obsessions make up who I am as a human. I worked extra hard on this post which made me think of some of the things that everybody loves, that I might be just a bit over-passionate about.
One of my favorite obsessions is film — Polaroids in particular. No, no, not those Instax cameras. I mean don’t get me wrong, I like those as well, but they’re just not the same as the good old-fashioned, real thing. (omg am I becoming my parents?) I love film photography because it’s a one shot deal. There are no retries or take backs. I almost enjoy the fact that film is expensive as hell, because it truly forces me focus on the shot at hand instead of taking one photo a million different ways and having to sort through it all later.
But Polaroids are my favorite type of film because, honestly, they take no real skill. It’s all point-and-shoot and hope for the best. But they never turn out horribly, for me at least, because the Polaroid that my dad gave me that he bought 496723486 years or so ago, makes every little square shot feel a bit nostalgic. Polaroid was Instagram before Instagram was Instagram. Of course I still take “bad” shots, but those are the ones I write on and use as bookmarks or craft with. There is honestly just no going wrong with Polaroids; however, my favorite part of the Polaroid isn’t the instant gratification of an instant photo or even the nostalgic feel of the final image — it’s the classic white border that leaves room for me to date the picture or to write about it. There’s just so much room for memories.
Which leads me to my next obvious obsession: absolutely anything handwritten. Seriously, anything. From birthday cards to love letters to hate mail there’s just something so personal — so intimate about taking a pen to paper. Those are the things I keep in boxes to look at when I’m sad. My favorite letter I have ever received was a list of book recommendations from a near stranger the second time I met them after realizing how much we had in common. When something is directly handwritten to you, like Polaroids, there are no take backs, and in at least that moment, that person was thinking about nothing but you. In a world with no attention span, where writing in pen isn’t usually necessary, they could occupy their time doing nearly anything else, but instead, they’re filling their moments with you in hopes that when you read their words, you’ll be filling your moments with them.
Thursday, September 24th, 2015
Summer is over, you say? Not in my book! Another day, another sundress. It’s been a lovely 82 degrees today, and I doubt I’ll break out the pants until freezing temperatures hit. As much as I really do love fall, my heart is stuck in an endless summer, full of bright colors, denim jackets, and flatforms. The trees never die there. My throat, however, does. This look is yet another hoarded one from my summer, seems how despite my lack of love life, I’ve somehow managed to develop yet another of the dreaded kissing diseases: strep. *insert dramatic music here* My survival hereby depends on this gallon of water and pint of ice cream beside me.
Simple little sundresses are my absolute go-to, because at a moments notice I can just throw one on and pretend I tried, without even wearing pants. Maybe I’ll even put a little extra effort in and slip into a fancy vintage eight dollar denim jacket, who knows? I always feel so sneaky when someone asks why I’m so dressed up, as if I was about to wear pants in this lifetime.
dress c/o Hot Kiss jacket: Vintage Levi