27 July 2014

two going on thirteen

I've had about, er, I dunno, like five full-on photoshoots with my dogs this week. These are the things that happen when you work as a photographer, and have a part-time job with wonky hours...and you happen, magically, to have a whole week off...by yourself, of course, since your husband's deep in the throes of pharmacy rotations, and your friends work regular hours anyway, and you're (sadly) childless, and you get it. But, like seriously, you'd be embarrassed for me if you saw how many photos of my dogs I've taken in the last four days. ...Actually, you will be. Since I plan on posting all dem photos.

Anyway, after wrapping up one said photoshoot with a sweet, complying beagle -- she was HAMMING it, guys -- this fella hopped onto the end of the bed, just so, as if asking me to take these two moody snaps.

Look at that face. I think he's officially a teenager. (I mean, technically, in dog years...)

26 July 2014

fit for Van Gogh

dress: c/o  Petit Reve Boutique  // mary-janes: UO 

So, let's talk about this masterpiece of a dress from Petit Reve Boutique -- a new online boutique based in sunny California, beloved land o' my birth! But, yes, masterpiece. It is exactly that. The fabric is weighty but soft, and this perfect blend of floral-metallic goodness, and of the upmost importance: it has a collar. In the universe of selecting dresses and assigning the importance of features, a collar is always a trump card, if you ask me. It's perfectly playful. Just the way I prefer all things worn on my body to be. 

And, story. So...this might sound odd, but my favorite thing about bringing home a new dress is the conversations that occur between me and Robbie. Immediately, I jump into a long-winded reverie about what book or movie character would wear this and the millions of places/events I plan to wear it to. Tea and garden parties with future daughters? Bingo! Robbie -- darling, darling Robbie! -- on the other hand, always, so quickly, catches the vast interconnectedness of the beauty of things. Here's what I mean by that: I pulled this out and he said -- literally without skipping a beat -- It looks like Van Gogh's flower paintings you love so much. 

And so now, it would seem, I have a very special memory tied to this very special dress. Oh, and it's true -- I do love Van Gogh. But not as much as I love the fella who knows it. 

23 July 2014

camptown races

                             Hat: Nordstrom BP // Flannel: Forever21, old (love this one.) // shorts: UO (also cute -- these + these

First of all: that hat, man. Light of my wardrobe's life this week. I think it may just take the cake for most complimented piece of clothing I've ever worn. Also, protects me little nose from that Denver sun. Five stars for you, floppy hat!

And now, let's talk about July. It always seems to me that July -- no matter what is or is not scheduled -- is a month of pure & total insanity. It is the Great Enigma of my life how this happens, but it does. Who's with me! It's not totally awful, though. It's weirdly good. That said...I'd, for one, be fine if all water fountains just abandoned their offering in lieu of unending streams of espresso for the month of July. It all started with the summer I went away to orchestra camp. We can discuss the comparable nerdiness of orchestra camp to other camps if you'd like. I was also a big-time fan of drama camp, but there are other, rich stories there for another time. Ok, but point of story: I don't really remember anything from that particular July of my tenth year except adjusting my glasses, clutching my violin like a madwoman, and playing Camptown Races on and on and on and on. Camptown Races -- in all its syncopated hyperbole (at least when children are playing) is the perfect soundtrack and metaphor for the entropy that is July, every year, forever. 

This is one of the many things that gazing back upon childhood has taught me. But more on that later, I think.