I have this little quote snipped from a magazine that I’ve hung onto for years. It’s good advice, and advice I wish I’d inherently understood from ages 15-30. Quick retrospective:
Ages 1-7: sport clothes for life that involves crotches full of sand, full days on flats boat baiting shrimps with hooks through their eyeballs in Florida Keys, monkey bars, and mouthfuls of grouper; thrive. Ages 8-14: wear clothes that make you as
invisible ordinary Richmondy as possible; survive. Ages 15-22: buy clothes that do any combination of: hide flaws, accentuate positives, peacock status, display flagrant tans, or convey impossibly inaccurate impressions of audacity; crash dive. Ages 23-25: what can I afford; deprive? Ages 26-27: I am flower child. I date singer in band. He is next coming of Duane Allman. Shoes optional. Cat Stevens is my dad; revive. Ages 28-31: Jersey knits. Phone and computer synced calendars. Leather. Fringe. Concerts on school nights. Married best friend. Balance. Holey t-shirts. Feathers. Kitty litter. Pendleton blankets. Repeat; high five.
But I am possibly taking the above words too literally right now. I do prefer to sleep; admittance. Witness one of 4 nighties I’ve bought recently,with full intentions of wearing publicly.
[Anthropologie nightgown, shrug + Linea Pelle belt.]
Belts and cardigans work wonders to disguise the intention of silky bedtime garments.
More (3, to be precise) where that came from.
Also, happening lately:
Listened to some tunes by the record player with dad:
Had some meals with friends:
Bought some rad vintage turquoise on Etsy:
Lounged around drinking coffee on a 60-degree, windy, Keys-like Florida morning in a caftan:
Ordered, then ate, 3 lbs of steamed oysters.
I peeped some old photos that reminded me people just aren’t as sexy today as they were yesterday. Relatively speaking.
Oh, mom in your red maxi dress…
It’s cool if you develop a crush on my dad (or mom) right now, I understand:
Also listened to more vinyl:
And got inspired by Jimi:
And I poked around my grandparents’ house before a red-eye flight home:
How are you, dudes?