three

The weekend came and went. Time sprang forward. I bought a new fancy toilet seat that closes silently on its hinges. Wardell took a bunch of amazing outfit photos for me and I somehow corrupted the files before I could transfer them to my computer. I didn't do my taxes. Most importantly, I partied with Isabella, who turned three.

sun bleached

wearing LL Bean striped shirt, Acne jacket, UO jeans, vintage bag and shoes

Stuff white people like: going to flea markets just to take photos. Especially when you go with fellow bloggers (Bobby of Lens Caption and Devon of effortlesslii to be exact.) These were all taken on Treasure Island last weekend, which lies right smack dab in the middle of Oakland and San Francisco. I'd never actually been there before, but the monthly Treasure Island Flea market ended up being a must see--if only because it's a much smaller, more reasonably priced cousin of the Alameda Flea Market. And because of the view. We took took photos of the stunning city vista afforded us by an unusually clear day, and Wardell risked life and limb jumping repeatedly in the air so that we could get good shots of him. He's such a trouper.

Clothing note: finally snagged a pair of woven leather flats on Etsy. I heart them long time.

the cautionary tale

wearing Zara waxed jeans, Mossimo turtleneck, D&G leopard print top, Acne jacket, vintage bag, Chanel shoes, DIY manicure with Martha Stewart glitter

I was somehow able to cram the highest number of designer labels into this look as possible given their scarcity in my closet. But here they are, working together. I can't remember if I've ever actually shown these shoes before, but I rarely wear them because they're soooooo speshul. And perhaps, if you look closely, slightly too small, but who's looking closely?!

And I have to share the sad tale of the Barney's intern. On Tuesday morning, I woke up, checked my Facebook, and saw the following status update in my newsfeed from the official Barney's NY account:

Poor girl flunked an accounting test and may have lost her (highly coveted) internship in the same day. While some of the later comments said something to the effect of, "This is why you don't get an intern to run your social media," anyone who works in social media knows this is an easy mistake to make, especially from a mobile device. If you're the admin of a fan page on Facebook, it's not like you sign out of your account and sign in to the fan page--you simply write updates on the fan page while signed in to your own account. I know people who have done something similar, including a friend who accidentally tweeted the sex of his unborn child from a company account. I guess this is the price we pay for blurring of the personal/professional line. And for the fact that writing on Facebook is like, a real job now.

Either way, I will be pouring one out for Barney's girl this weekend. I don't like to witness human tragedy, especially when it falls so close to home.

starstruck

wearing Acne Jacket, Madewell denim shirt, Leif leather leggings, vintage bracelet and necklace, Steve madden shoes

Spent a few (coldish) days in L.A. visiting a best friend this weekend. Checked out the Melrose Trading Post flea market (grabbed two amazing tops which I'll share later), ate at Mario Batalli's Pizza joint Mozza, strolled through Will Rogers Park, and finished off with dinner at Chateau Marmont seated within spitting distance of a distracted, chain-smoking Lindsay Lohan. Also saw Dita Von Teese hurrying out in an amazing femme tux. I know it's uncool to admit it, but I LOVE seeing celebrities. Going to L.A. without seeing at least three D-listers is like going to Africa without seeing any Zebras. Shit is just wrong.

ACNE!

wearing Acne jacket, Madewell blouse, Zara pants, Manolo Blahnik heels, F21 rings

I've got Acne!!! No, not just on my face! On my body! Oh wait--not the puss-filled inflamed pore kind--the Swedish kind. Yes, I caved into my baser instincts and blew a wad of cash on this uuhhhhhmmaaaaazing jacket you see here. It was on sale though, so I am officially NOT GUILTY of conspicuous overindulgence. I'm just the proud owner of a jacket that, let's be honest, I'm going to wear the living snot out of. It's already come in handy for an unusually cold weekend. And it's a lot more comfortable than 5" heels. Can I get an amen?

maybe having acne isn't such a bad thing...

images via Refinery29

Ok, so I'm starting to feel better. I guess the way I judge my relative mental health is how someone with the flu would judge their readiness to start eating again--if the smell of food is suddenly enticing, they're on the road to recovery. Likewise, if I'm looking at things like Acne's fall lookbook and salivating over the strangely boxy, futurisitic cuts and sky-high platforms, surely the old me is not all gone. Surely, things will get better.