five things (5.22.15)

1. I’ve only just discovered artist FKA twigs recently and  I’m in utter awe of her music. It’s raw, but manipulated; sensual, though never grotesque—really, it’s stirring. Otherworldly, even. I’ve had “Two Weeks” on repeat the past two weeks (how fitting!) and I’m yet to tire of it. It just inspires me to move and more importantly, just listen and feel.

2. Leave it to Mindy Kaling to define modern-day, not-quite-platonic relationships with utmost clarity. It’s the most precise label (or description?) I’ve heard since “it’s complicated,” which really just sucks. I’m into the weird romances—no labels is least complicated and most freeing, but real adults will call me a hippy millennial with commitment issues—without having to cast a shadow of negativity that comes with calling something “complicated.”

She told InStyle:

“I will freely admit: My relationship with B.J. Novak is weird as hell. He is not my boyfriend, but he is not my best friend. I guess you could describe our relationship as a ‘romantically charged camaraderie with loud arguments,’ but I don’t think Facebook would accept this as a new status.”

Let’s start a petition, pls.

3. This past Sunday was another perfect day in the books. Spent in good company with good food, delicious drinks, The Bent Spoon ice cream (whose homemade oatmeal walnut cookie is beyond words), and wandering around Paper Source eyeing all the stationary and tchotchkes we simply needed to own. More days like this, please.

4. It’s been ages since I put on a proper pair of heels. I’m talking shoes that aren’t (1) heeled ankle boots, (2) mid-to-chunky high heels, or (3) evening, night-out stilettos.

So basically, by process of elimination, your bog-standard classic pump.

I haven’t owned one in a while, too. After my last pair wore out, I was too lazy to hunt down the perfect pair: I’m picky, for starters, and my tiny size-five-feet don’t exactly afford me the luxury of popping into any ol’ store (virtual or IRL) and leaving satisfied. Since salsa dancing (which is mostly done in heels for hours at a time), I’ve convinced myself that my feet needed a break to balance things out, Lucky for me, my office is pretty relaxed on the dress code front; so no pumps were really needed.

By chance alone,  however, I found the perfect pair that ticked all the boxes:

• Daytime and office appropriate (which means NO platform or anything over 3.75″ inches, ahem);
• Comfortable (which narrows down the above to a solid range between a 3.5″ to 3.75″ in. heel);
• Simple;
• Slightly pointed almond toe (which is more timeless than the pointy-toe silhouette trend, and definitely more comfortable too);
• Nude (for elongating the leg);
• Patent (for durability against dirt, rain, and scuffs!);
• Just enough toe cleavage;
• D’orsay (for a peek of extra skin);
• Affordable (v. important); and the most important of all:
• ACTUALLY FITS MY TINY FEET.

I’m very excited about this find.

I may or may not have walked like Bambi when re-acquainting my feet with the pump, but it’s safe to say I’m back on ladylike heels.

5. I love crafting. Since high school I haven’t had much opportunity to create like I used to—art was always my outlet—and adulthood doesn’t place any (practical, extrinsic) value on creativity. Art is a waste of time and money; I could be doing XYZ.

But last night was a reminder of why I loved working on a project to create something better, or new. Insomnia bred productivity: I spent the better part of tossing and turning on rhinestoning the front of my (salsa) costume instead (it’s fun, but it’s also exhausting; I think I found the cure to my sleeplessness!). Two hours later, my mani’s ruined and my pointer finger is stiff as a corpse but the final product is surely worth the carpal tunnel.

Even something as simple as just picturing a simple design and gluing things into place sparked this desire to create more.

And now, I have this half-finished costume in hand. It’s tangible. Everything feels real. And just now it’s hitting me how close we are to performing and how little time there is left to rehearse and perfect. I’m simultaneously brimming with excitement at the prospect of being in front of a crowd again, debuting this new number… even if just to just dress up and blind the audience with sparkle. If you can’t impress ’em, distract ’em with all the sparkly things. All humans are magpies at the core.

Two more weeks.

Cue panic attack.

.   .   .

Previous ‘Five Things,’ here.