But like Mexican hot chocolate, a kick of chili pepper for an unexpected twist. Sweet, adorably mouse-y (literally) but with a rocker edge. Marc by Marc Jacob’s classic mouse ballerinas: quaint gone edgy.
So perfect for roaming the campus come fall. I know spring’s only just begun, but I’m a planner. Always have been, always will be.
I couldn’t help but fall for them a little after seeing them a while back on the amazingly talented and stylish Lindley’s blog.
. . .
xx
{image via}
When things get hectic and therefore stressful, I forget to breathe. In. Out. I drown myself in a standard uniform of black head to toe because it’s safe, unobtrusive. It’s when I wear black for all the wrong reasons. Black is power in sleek and strength, not to be misused as a cloak to hide behind.
A few days a go I saw Cory Booker‘s update:
“I find that stress and worry about a problem [undermines] the spirit and the creative energy needed to overcome the challenge.”
It does. It hinders and holds you back – it’s something I need to remember. Small steps, baby steps, like slipping into your first pair of heels.
Surrounding myself with brightness and light creates a world of a difference. It changes the air to something lighter, brighter, happier. It’s not just the power of positive dressing, but the ability to change your environment to suit your needs. We can take our emotions into our own hands; let not your emotions control you. Think with your mind, do with your heart – it’s a completely different thing.
Happy Monday!
. . .
x
{images via}
“Since we all came from a woman
Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman
I wonder why we take from our women
Why we rape our women, do we hate our women?
I think it’s time to kill for our women
Time to heal our women, be real to our women
So will the real men get up
I know you’re fed up ladies, but keep your head up…”
- Tupac Shakur
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there.
I love food, so much so I secretly wish I was one of those sophisticated foodies who pick at their caviar and cheeses with the air of a seasoned – no pun intended – connoisseur. I see, I smell, and devour; apparently I have a Napoleon complex when it comes to the subject. So ladylike, so chic. I blame my height (or lack thereof).
Slowly but surely, I’m slowly changing my perspective on food. Live not to eat, but eat to live. Step one to holistic eating: Eat to feed your body, and indulge occasionally to feed the soul.
Certain things do both. Oatmeal is my best friend, my shoulder to cry on. Zucchini (grilled with the litttttlest bit of butter) makes me weak at the knees. Avocados are my lovers.
And at three in the morning, who better to call on than the lover? We both knew exactly what we wanted…
In a small bowl, mash the avocado with a bit of lime juice, olive oil, black pepper, and garlic powder – all to taste. I don’t measure; accuracy sometimes kills the beauty of spontaneous domesticity. Taste test occasionally with a fork because the gorgeous green is irresistible, and the combination of ingredients smells divine. Keep mashing until the mixture is slightly smoother and creamy in consistency. (I prefer a few chunks for texture, but I’m also lazy.)
Drizzle a bit of olive oil or add a smathering of whipped butter to the insides of the ciabatta bread halves. Toast it on a pan for a few minutes, and while it’s still warm, spread the avocado paste across its surface. Be generous; we love avocado. Ground more flakes of black pepper, and sprinkle on top a bit more garlic powder to garnish…
Simple. Satisfying. And exquisite, if I may say so myself, especially for a 3 a.m. snack hor d’oeuvre. I may go as far to say it’d be lush for an appetizer during girls’ night in.
. . .
x
{image via, edited by yours truly}
The little things which I notice, make me smile, or make me feel compelled to write about. Or maybe it’s an excuse to use alliteration. You’ll never know.
. . .
+ Eye contact. Something so seemingly minute and inconsequential, but leaves an indelible impact. Too little contact says you’re detached. Apathetic. Nervous, insociable. Too much eye contact makes the other uncomfortable, like you’ve crossed some borderline. Just the right amount – the locking of eyes that makes someone look away, but want to look back – is such a beautiful thing. It’s the little things in life.
+ Pilates. All things flexible, bendy, and beautiful – I adore things that make me feellike a woman. I’ve just started yesterday and woke up feeling absolutely sore. All over. It hurts so, so good.
+ Raw smoothies. A bit tangy, a bit sweet, wholly fresh. The joys of returning to holistic eating feels so right. My body says thank you in advance.
+ Reading. I haven’t in a while. In a year, actually, not counting required readings for classes. I’ve forgotten the pleasures that come with simply relaxing and just letting your eyes and mind glaze over slightly. Let the printed words on the page take over, let the imagination stir from its deep slumber. I’ve just started Steve Martin’s “An Object of Beauty.” Deliciously smart so far, and it’s a beautiful book just to hold…
. . .
x
