Real World Style: Farmer’s Market Style

If you shop often or look at Instagram style feeds on a regular basis, no doubt you’ve seen the phrase “farmer’s market style” used to describe an outfit.  I have to admit, I both love and hate that description.  Why, you ask?  Let me explain.  First of all, I love it.  I see this outfit that is minimalistic and yet romantic in it’s minimalism, and I immediately begin imagining myself wearing this outfit and farmer’s market-ing.  I see this beautiful image of myself wearing this lovely outfit, buying organic fruits and veggies, laughing and strolling through a busy, yet peaceful street overflowing with produce.  Then I sit down and drink an espresso at an outdoor cafe (I’m in Europe at this point, naturally) and read a beautiful old educational French book.  The sun is shining, the weather is perfect, and I look like a European model (because why not right?  If I’m gonna have a fantasy, I’m sure as heck gonna look like a model in it) and my red lipstick has magically not transferred at all to my teeth or to my perfectly white coffee cup.  And then, I realize what has happened.  I have gone insane.  Finally the inevitable has happened.  Because I don’t read educational books, I read teen novels.  When I wear red lipstick, it gets on EVERYTHING.  When I go to the farmer’s market, it consists of me pushing a giant motorhome sized stroller covered in old food and juice, saying “oh…sorry…excuse me…” as I run over people’s feet while we “stroll” through the street.  There are toddlers screaming “GET DOWN” repeatedly and I’m probably sweating because all things in life involve me sweating, the vegetables have poked holes in the flimsy bags they gave us (because I inevitably forgot my perfect “farmer’s market” bags I bought when this fantasy overtake me last time), and there’s no outdoor cafe with espresso.  There is only the outfit I was wearing earlier because I forgot to change into my romantic minimalist look and me, wondering why going to the farmer’s market is NOTHING like the movies.

Dang it.  Regardless of this juxtaposition of my fantasy life against reality, I still do love “farmer’s market style”!  So why not just wear it any old day of the week? I’d like to propose that when this glorious fantasy overtakes you, realize you do actually love the outfit, even though it doesn’t come with a free trip to the French Riviera.  Where I am quite sure, their red lipstick stays put.

This vintage top and raw silk skirt I bought from Bumbleebuck Vintage, who is the MASTER of romantic minimalism.  You will want to buy everything in her shop simply because it’s lovely.  I added the hat and the scarf and the vintage slip on Ariat booties because it just added a little bit of a western flair to the outfit.  And now, I’m off to the farmer’s market.  Just kidding.  I’ll be doing laundry in my jammies.  #reallife


On New Styles and Wanting a Refund

Do you ever have something little happen that really shouldn’t bug you that much, but instead you fly off the handle?  That happened to me the other day.  I had been part of a monthly beauty subscription box and one of the month’s boxes never arrived.  I emailed them a few times, getting little to no response.  Then when I finally did get a response, what I got was a pretty simple: “it’s your responsibility”.  That was AFTER they consistently asked me questions I had already answered in previously (and obviously unread) emails.  I never got the box.  Of course this is pretty annoying and even rude (and quite shockingly poor customer service).  However, it was my reaction that surprised me more than anything.  Usually I’m pretty chill about this kind of thing.  I’d expect myself to be disappointed and probably cancel my service (which I did).  But I found myself almost in a complete rage.  I felt offended.  Hurt even.  I felt ripped off in a much bigger way than I should have.  I even cried a little.  I emailed them and told them I was super disappointed and no longer would be a customer.  I was nice of course, but I’d say I ripped them a new one in a courteous fashion.

When I got that email basically saying they didn’t care whether I got what I ordered or not, I found myself feeling things on a level that were a bit out of proportion to what was actually going on.  I mean, I was MAD.  A lot of what my family and I went through a few years ago that quite literally leveled me for a while, was basically being ripped off over and over again…in a lot of different ways.  People who were supposed to care for us, stole from us.  People who I thought were there for me, were not.  I feel like in some ways I poured my life like a bunch of quarters into a vending machine that promptly said: “out of order” and left me high and dry.  It was a shocking time in my life because it let me see the true nature of greed and also, the honest and harsh reality of my life.  And I wanted a refund.

There are some days when what we lost feels unbearable to me.  Days like that one, where someone ripped me off for $20 and I felt like it was the last straw.  Days when I want to literally hunt all those people down and demand that they understand how it felt and what it did to me.  Days when I want a refund on my time, on my feelings, and for the pieces of my heart that I gave away and thought it was an investment.  Those are the days when I struggle the most.  Those are also the days that my husband usually has to remind me of the fact that the best is yet to come, and no amount of me pouring my heart out ever will come back completely void.  That there were good things that came out of the bad…even the horribly painful.  It’s a hard thing for me to remember when it hurts.

One of the things I find the most amazing, is watching new life come out of previously “dead” areas.  Like watching plants grow in the spring after the ground looks dry and devoid of life.  Like watching a new relationship form after an old one has “died”…whether it’s a literal death or an emotional one.  Like seeing someone get a new start after everything looked hopeless.  I think the only way this really happens is by letting go of the old “dead” parts.  And that is much easier said than done.  I think as the new year approaches, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want for the new year.  New life is one of those things…and that means me letting go of the old.  For me that means emotionally letting go and not being afraid of that letting go.  It means forgiving…and that includes forgiving myself (which is the hardest person for me to forgive!).  It means letting go of what was lost (including that box I never got!) and letting it be, and allowing space for the newness that is to come.

I’ve been getting a lot of new inspiration for outfits lately.  That’s not to say that I’m getting rid of my old styles, because I still love them!  But I guess I’m letting myself have fun, be open to new ideas, and finding ways of growing and changing in my style.  Newness is always a good idea!  :)

I went to the Goodwill to get some sweaters, but instead ended up with this awesome vintage shirt that is actually Avon brand.  I couldn’t pass it up!  I’m having a lot of fun with vintage scarves lately, especially mixing them with jewelry.  Because, well more is always more to me! :)