Fashion Feelings: Boots or pants?

I love multitasking.  And by “multitasking”, I mean, doing things while watching tv because I clearly love watching tv.  I’m watching it right now as I type this.  So if I begin typing names of characters on The Office, you’ll know that I’m not having a seizure, I’m just “multitasking”.  See?  Totally doing two things at once, making the most of my time.  I wish I had something I could drink through a straw so I could do three things at once…must work on this.

I know that as a woman, I should be a boss at multitasking.  And in some ways, I am.  Like, I can think about everything that I need to accomplish in the next 43 minutes while refilling water cups, picking up dirty laundry, and most likely drinking coffee.  Also, I’m super good at worrying about 57 things at once.  Does that count as multitasking??  Dang it.  Here’s what I’m NOT good at.  Writing while the tv is on.  (doing that now.  obviously, not well.  the tv is winning.)  Counting while people are talking to me.

Oh I’m sorry, did I say counting while people are talking to me?  I meant COUNTING, PERIOD.  Yesterday I ran into a friend I haven’t seen in a while, during the exact moment when I was trying to pay for my thrift store haul.  You can imagine how that went down.  I asked the poor cashier about four times what my total was again, and oh, wait, did you say “SEVENTY THREE CENTS?” one more time…I already forgot what you literally just said…  So yeah, in a lot of ways I kind of fail at multitasking.

One thing I really do well though, is wear all my stuff at once.  I like to refer to this as “multitasking”.  Put on all the things I like at once, wear them proudly, and when people ask “who are you supposed to be?” I say “a girl who likes clothes and doesn’t play favorites with everything in her closet.”

You know what else is fun?  That these boots kind of double as pants.  Now I’d never wear them AS pants, but you catch my drift right?  Yeah.  Why not have my clothing multitask too!?

I’m going to get back to doing all the things while napping with my eyes open now.  Must. Have. Coffee.

Good luck multitasking today.  It’s not recommended without caffeine.  ;)


*boots are One Teaspoon, kimono is Wildfox, shorts are Levis, tank is Target!

How To Dress Like You’re Going To A Music Festival

The complete title of this post should really read: “How To Dress Like You’re Going To A Music Festival…When You Don’t Even Know The Lineup” but that was too long to fit in the title space.  So now you know what you’re in for.  I just have to get something off my chest, this is a real life confession, and you may just not like me as much for it but I gotta be honest.  Here goes.  Deep breath.

I don’t think I’d like music festivals.  If someone handed me a wad of cash and a nanny for three days and said: “Here you go!  Go to Coachella!” I would quite honestly head straight to Disneyland and have the best three days ever.  I am quite certain, as much as I LOVE MUSIC, that music festivals are most likely not for me.  Plus, I’m really more of a Shawn Mendes person than Modest Mouse and  I don’t run with the “hip” music crowd, I’ll listen to vintage Britney any day over John Legend.  And now you like me even less don’t you.  Oh well.  In the words of the great philosopher, “I am what I am.”  And I most definitely would probably LOVE green eggs and ham, FYI.

All this being said, I must share with you that my music festival resume, per say, is quite limited.  So, there is a chance I would enjoy such a thing.  As long as camping is not involved.  Oh, and there’s air conditioning or a beach nearby.  And we’re back…

When I was in high school, my parents took me to a Christian Music Festival called Spirit West Coast that was basically the “safer” version of your average festival.  I put the word “safe” in quotes because to be honest, I don’t know much about regular music festivals and I also know better than to just automatically assume that anything Christian is automatically “safe”.  That being said, it was definitely tamer than most concerts could get, but it had a lot of elements that I would imagine any music festival would hold.  TONS of people.  Check.  Moving like herds of cattle over bridges and funneling slowly but surely (and noisily) into concert venues, all the while baking in the hot merciless sunshine.  NOISE, noise, and more noise.  Check.  We did camp (see, I HAVE camped in my life A LOT before you guys!) when we went one year, and the relentless high school girl high pitched screaming went on for the full 24 hours.  Also, people bringing their own instruments and trying to participate in the festival at midnight.  This is not appreciated, BTW.  HEAT, DIRT, and crappy food.  Check.  It’s mandatory that you receive at the very least a medium intensity sunburn despite the pounds of sunscreen you apply.  Also, you must be covered in a fine film of dust all the while sucking down sodas and eating something that was once food and has now been fried in something that was once considered oil.  Gross.  Exhaustion by mid afternoon, but desperately loading up on sugar and caffeine so you can make it to the headliner.  Which is the whole reason you are enduring this business to begin with.  Check.  Time for another confession.  I most definitely planned on meeting and marrying one of the guys from the band DC Talk (anyone remember them? Hello children of the 90s!) so I made it my mission to see ALL of their concerts.  And then I finally got up close to the stage, close enough to touch him, and then realized he was about…three quarters of my size.  Sigh.  The man of my high school dreams was a pint sized human being with a voice the size of Texas.  Drat. My dream died right there (because you know his stature was the main thing keeping us apart…ah forbidden love) but my mission to see them in concert did not.  The days spent as sunbaked fried food eating cattle were mostly about seeing as many concerts that I may or may not care about, all to stay alert for DC Talk.  Worth it?  Sure…why not.

The memory highlight of this festival experience was seeing Katy Perry (at that time she was Katy Hudson) running around with her friends (I had met her that year at a local church) and later remembering this and telling it as my “celebrity anecdote”…how I “knew her” (met her) before she kissed a girl and liked it.

There’s a big “but” coming after all this.  Not a big BUTT, a big BUT.  I love dressing like I’m going to a music festival.  Because it’s okay to dress like it and not go.  Here are some small guidelines to adhere to, so that you can get questions like “oh are you going to Coachella?” when you’re really just buying the ingredients for shepherd’s pie.  (I speak from experience).

  1. FRINGE.  Go with the fringy boots, ALWAYS.  Because you always want to protect your feet from the dirt at music festivals and regardless of what you’re doing, the fringe is swishy and fun to walk in.
  2. FEATHERS.  Yes, you CAN wear fringe and feathers in the same outfit as long as you play it cool.  Go with fringe boots and feather earrings for example.  You have the rest of your outfit as a buffer for the fact that you may be twinning with Steven Tyler.
  3. CUT OFFS.  The essential festival wear is also the essential summer wear, so keep em guessing.  The great news is that if you’re not comfortable with booty shorts, get a good pair of loose-ish jeans (just make sure they’re loose in the thigh area so you have the freedom to roll them up if you want AND they won’t give you a thigh bulge!) and cut them off at the height you want them.  I recommend cutting them at a slight angle up from the inner thigh to the outer thigh…so they’re a teeny tiny bit shorter at the outside than the inside.  Again, they DO NOT have to be shorty shorts.  But this slight angle gives a more flattering look to them.
  4. IX-NAY ON THE GLITTER.  Sorry guys.  I love glitter, and I would totally wear it on a daily basis, but ONLY with a simpler outfit.  If you wear glitter, glitter tattoos, or henna tattoos, you will be in FULL festival mode and this is where it gets a tad sketchy when you’re just picking up your kids from school.  Don’t get me wrong.  You can do it if you want to, but you are entering costume territory and will get stared at and get asked about your favorite Radiohead song.  And to that question, I have no answer except I love Justin Bieber.

Shameless self promotion time.  This duster is the newest piece from Velvet California (my clothing line baby!) and I love it.  I’m modeling the prototype and it’s coming soon to the site!  I hope you love it too! :)

Oh, if you don’t have three layer fringe Minnetonka boots, get them.  In multiple colors :)



The Five Stages Of Buying Mass Produced Clothing

You know the drill.  You walk into Target/H&M/Forever 21/Zara (take your pick of any mass produced big name box store) and you go through the five stages of box store shopping.  1. Guilt: “I should be buying local and not buying mass produced stuff!” 2. Elation: “OH MY GOSH THIS SWEATER IS SO CUUUUUUTE!” 3. Trepidation: “Okay, but doesn’t EVERYONE ELSE have this top??” 4. Mad Rush of Emotions: “BUT DO YOU SEE HOW CHEAP IT IS???”  5. Succombing To The Sweet Scent of Deals: “I’m buying it.  ALL.”

You guys, I started a clothing line, so I have my own feelings about fast fashion.  Now that I know how much time, effort, and money goes into making real clothing, it is frustrating how quickly Zara can pump out zillions of things before I can even get half a piece of clothing done.  That being said though, I go through all the five stages just like everyone else.  And yes, I usually cave in, and buy all the deals.  And nope, I don’t regret it.  So let’s talk about how to sort of…make it all better somehow.

How do you buy something at a box store and NOT look like every other blogger/mom/girl who loves shopping out there?  I’m just gonna throw out some ideas that might help you look at things differently and encourage a healthy mix of small batch AND big box store shopping.  Because let’s face it.  Almost no one can steer completely clear of the biggies.

  1. Choose wisely.  When shopping at one of the mass produced places, you must try and avoid the strong magnetic allure of “It’s 75% off so I HAVE TO BUY IT!”  Just because it’s uber cheap, doesn’t mean you NEED it.  Stop, breathe, and ask yourself if it’s as good as what you already have OR if it meets a need in your wardrobe.  I know the madness is easy to get into.  But do a “final edit” when you get to the register and lose whatever you have doubts about.
  2. Think about how you’ll wear it.  This is when you get to distinguish yourself from the hundreds of other people who are currently buying that exact same piece of clothing (because, you’ve got great taste, so of course other people will want it!).  This is the FUN part.  Plus, it’ll help you decide whether or not you will actually wear what you’re gonna buy.  Think about pairing this top or dress (or whatever it is) with vintage accessories.  Or maybe take a handmade item or unique pair of shoes and put them with it…basically mix in your piece that EVERYONE may have with pieces that NO ONE ELSE has.  No way on earth you’re gonna look like everyone else now, is there? :)
  3. Weigh your options.  Let’s be honest.  Sometimes, Target and Zara have great on trend pieces at a fraction of the price, and a fraction of the price is really what is most affordable and practical for that particular thing.  However, there are also times when it really makes more sense to get something REAL instead.  This is really dependent on what it is you’re looking at.  For example, say you’ve been eying a handmade pair of bell bottoms on Instagram or Etsy that are just stunning.  They are custom fit, hand dyed, and exactly what you’ve been looking at.  Plus, you have been following the maker on social media and you know her dog’s name and what kind of coffee she likes and a lot of little endearing details about her life.  Then you walk into Target and you see a somewhat similar pair of bell bottoms.  They don’t fit quite as well, but they’re cute and about one quarter of the cost of the others.  Okay, I can firmly say (within reason, like really without knowing what your budget is, so please don’t get into debt or something because of me!) that this is one of those scenarios where it’s better to spend the dough.  You get what you’ve been drooling over, you support the maker, and also, you get pants that will LAST.  When people buy things from me, I literally almost cry.  That’s how much it means to me.  So when you buy from a maker, you are MAKING THEIR WEEK.
  4. Buy sparingly.  I am consistently drawn to the clothing section at Target.  And Zara?  Get out of town…I would be in TROUBLE if I had one anywhere near me.  But no matter how insanely much I want to just buy buy buy clothes when I get to Target, I force myself to only buy occasionally.  Because to be quite honest, the things I buy from Target often end up being my least favorite things…the things that end up going to the thrift store.  With the exception of the things I have chosen wisely and put more thought into my purchase.  This helps me to curb my appetite when I get there and just want to binge.

That being said, I have made a few Target clothing purchases recently, and those are the first I’ve made in close to a year!

I tried on this jumpsuit and I had to have it.  It’s just so lovely and spring-y and I think it looks way nicer than the average Target pieces.  I decided however to pair it with this vintage denim duster I got from a friend’s second hand store, Revamped The Collection, and some vintage jewelry and boots.  That way, it looks way different from the way I’ve seen it worn on Instagram already!  So you see?  You CAN have your cake and eat it too!!  Unless, however you’re on a low carb diet like me, in which case you cannot either have cake or eat it.

You catch my drift.
Happy Wednesday

Fashion Feelings: Owning It

Ah, the life of a girl.  We are born, and then we rapidly begin hating body parts.  I think it’s something that we almost don’t even need to be taught, it’s just innate.  But of course, television, the internet, and magazines filled with genetically modified humans don’t help either.  The other day I saw that the Victoria’s Secret “fashion” show was on.  (The “fashion” is in quotes because, um, isn’t it…UNDERWEAR?)  Don’t get me wrong…I’m not hating on it because I can tell there’s some gorgeous, uhhhh, underwear (?) made out of gemstones and feathers and boning and all kinds of comfy things that we all normally wear in our undergarments.  There’s live music and pretty sparkly things and girls the size of toothpicks who have all had 16 children naturally and lost all their weight within moments of childbirth…it’s totally entertainment.  (Okay, it’s possibly I AM hating on it a tad.)  I didn’t watch the show, but the clips I did see made me wonder…”WHY DO WOMEN WANT TO SEE THIS?”  I literally saw a few moments of it and I was instantly looking at myself wondering why I look like I do.  Oh yeah, that’s right.  Because I’M A NORMAL HUMAN.  Dang it.

Despite my crazy rant above, which was a bit unintended, I actually have become a lot more secure about myself over the past few years.  I’m NOWHERE near secure enough to watch a VS “fashion” show obviously, but I’m better than I used to be.  I’ll prove it to you.

I’m an only child, as you know.  Instantly however, I entered into a massive competition…with myself.  I actually remember standing outside in the mobile home park I lived in (the fact that I can even admit to you I lived in one of those is again proof that I’m more secure!) and telling myself that I wanted to be the most beautiful girl…period.  Dang.  I think back to this moment and I remember how fierce I was, how harsh I was being on myself, and how much I was setting myself up for failure.  Because I’d like to argue that there are many, many, MANY most beautiful women in the world.  But that moment definitely started a cycle for me.

I was very sheltered growing up, home schooled, and then I went to a VERY VERY small private high school, so I kind of got what I wanted.  I got to be “popular” (when you’re home schooled, you’re always top of your class, get it?) and I got to be “pretty” and I felt fairly secure in myself.  Or so I thought.  Then I went to Cal Poly State University in my hometown.  Oh freaking em gee, you guys.  That’s when it all went downhill.  Let me tell you a little something about Cal Poly girls.  They are all perfect.  They’re always a little tanner, thinner, blonder, and have more perfect boobs than…EVERYONE.  They have a  brand new Mercedes that their parents bought for them and clothes from brands I had never even heard of.  I was in a world of hurt when I started.  I will never forget how panicky I felt when I started my first quarter of college.  Sure, sure, I got a perfect score on my very first college essay.  That should have been a HUGE win for me.  But instead, all I could see was that one girl.  She had long beautiful hair (my hair has always been a sore spot for me).  She had BOOBS (I had MAYBE and A cup, on a good day.  There was no push up bra that could do that sort of wizardry).  She had this perfect tiny waist (see my last post on how I don’t got one of those).  And she was PERFECT.  She wore her pajamas to class with basically no makeup and, um, I don’t look like that without makeup.  Sure, this sounds like I was her stalker, but really, she was the mirror I looked in every morning at 8am Monday-Thursday.  And it was not a mirror that told me what I wanted to see.

I know a lot of girls struggle with insecurity at some point in their lives, and some even more severe than I did/do.  But I remember there being many, many days when I would hide in my room and not leave the house because I had a big zit, or my hair looked crappy, or I just didn’t like the way my face looked.  Instead of going out and having fun with a friend, I would sit in my room and cry and tell myself what I failure I was and how ugly I was and basically tear myself a new one just because I wasn’t pretty enough.  Ouch.  I wish I could go back and comfort that girl who was so worried about not measuring up.

I’ve grown up a lot since then.  Sure, I still try to avoid staring for long periods of time at “perfect humans” because that definitely doesn’t make me feel great, but I’ve started owning things about myself that I fought for so long.  My hair.  I used to blow dry the crap out of it.  It was platinum blonde, and fried within an inch of it’s life.  I wouldn’t let it curl or frizz at all (which was a losing battle, FYI).  When I finally relented and went back to a more natural shade and then let it just BE…I started actually LIKING the hair I was born with.  I started choosing makeup that complimented ME and MY skin instead of always reading what the latest hot celeb was wearing and trying to make that fit me.  I realized that if I wore the things that made ME look great instead of trying to wear crazy padded bras and things that were attempts at changing my body shape, that I actually could like the way I looked.  I stopped looking at a photo of someone else, then back at myself…I started looking at me, and realizing that I am who I AM and that is what I need to own.  Comparison steals our joy.  Every single time.

Much like our quirks, our “flaws” and our unique features, just OWNING our style makes it work I think.  I think half the battle for most things is just deciding “I’m doing this.”  Many of you know I’m in the process of launching a clothing line that’s all original stuff.  I had a lot of moments where I was waffling back and forth and then finally, I committed.  I decided that this is what I’m doing.  That’s the way I approach getting dressed too.  I love love this denim duster I got from the beautiful new shop Revamped The Collection in Paso Robles.  It’s unique and fun and I put it on and OWN IT.  My boots are just the best things ever, made by the incredible @hillbillygypsyboots (I have three pairs and they’re insane, please get yourself a pair).

And regardless of your size, hair color, or body type, please feel the freedom to own it.  Because nothing is more beautiful than confidence.  Period.  Plus, I’m betting that diamond encrusted undies would chafe like a mother.