When I first started getting into “fashion,” I was in my sophomore year of high-school. The braces were off, I discovered a straightening iron and boys no longer called me “First Base” due to my lack of a bosom. I had fewer “do’s” and “don’t” than I do now, but I’ll still remember those rules like it was only yesteryear.

DO’S: Mudd jeans, a Von Dutch trucker hat,  and a black kohl eyeliner that I thought looked great smeared around each eye.

DON’T’S: pants that went above my belly button, gold-toned jewelry and my secret favorite hoodie from middle-school that just had “GAP” on the front of it. Admit it – you had one just like it.

As I grew more into my looks, I become more adventurous in some dernier areas, and less in others. I now only use black eyeliner for nights out with the girls, and am accepting of all metals. I am especially fond of mixing silver and gold, as pictured below in Exhibit A:

Exhibit A:
All in involved:
ring – I have no idea where I got this – it seriously just appeared in my collection one day. So…thank you stalker? Ivory and turquoise bracelet – vintage. Chain bracelet – Fredericksburg, TX boutique.

I am also a fan of stacked rings, which frightens me a bit since I feel they are on their way out, along with the recycled obsession of floral leggings. I like to wear my stacked rings on my middle finger, with the stalker gift (see Exhibit A) on the index, and a gift from an old flame on the ring finger. That combo is the perfect amount of Vanessa Hudgens boho meets Lauren Conrad after she wrote her first book meets Miley Cyrus before channeling Pink, as visually projected in Exhibit B and Exhibit C. Plus, when I go out and wear the silver band on my ring finger, it helps me brush off annoying guys. Which, as those are pretty much the only ones whom I seem to attract, might explain my Saturday nights alone watching re-runs of Ellen.

Exhibit B:
From left to right:
old bf ring, stacked rings – you can find something similar here, stalker mystery ring

Exhibit C:
Still a cruddy photo (I’m working on the camera thing), but here is a close up of the rings, in the same order as Exhibit B.


Since I have already admitted I am an absolute cliché by starting a fashion blog, I thought I would go even further into the rabbit hole of banality and follow the lead of every DIY blogger by re-creating a pair of the 2012 D&G flower sunglasses. Everyone is just gaga about them and it seems impossible to find them for purchase. (Which is hilarious that I’m even pretending like I could buy them, when my friend J.M. and I are freaking out about having to spend $12 for an hour-long dance class.) These glasses are the shiznit though, and anything that even remotely resembled the ones below would be swell. I always thought I was someone who hated knock-offs, so let’s call this (and the Converse project) an “inspired venture.”

2012 D&G sunglasses – photo via Polyvore

I started by buying a cheap pair of sunglasses that I wouldn’t feel badly about messing with. Plus, the website I bought these from, Karmaloop is AMAAAZING, so I’m always willing to put my salary towards them, even for the smaller, rinky-dink sort of stuff. I had a bit of an issue trying to find the exact clay flowers I needed, and at first all I could find were YouTube videos on how to make your own (which, puh-lease, honey boo-boo, I was not going to do). I ended up at another favorite but lethal site – Etsy, where I found my flowers, and maybe a couple of other items that had nothing to do with this project. Yah, I’m crazy like that. The shop is from Thailand, but I received the flowers in a week and they were in perfect condition. Next, I ate 9-thawed out taquitos while waiting for my glue gun to heat up. Was there ranch dressing involved as a dipping sauce? Maybe so, but I’ll never tell. Before staring on the project, I decided to take a “Before” Picture. Please see Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

I ate taquito after taquito, while figuring out how to get the flowers to stay on the sunglasses without burning the flesh off my fingers. I decided to do the “just go for it” method, which is amusing because that has never really  worked for me before. Below, Exhibit B, is the end result of putting glue on top of the sunglasses and smashing a flower on the top until it set in place. I didn’t mean for these to look like the Anthony Davis of eyeware (see Exhibit C), but it is what it is.

Exhibit B

Exhibit C:Photo via

Below is a better close up of the clay flowers in Exhibit D:

Flower sunglasses up close

Oh, and now I have burn marks on my fingers and typing this makes me wince, but I’m a trooper and keep on hitting the keypad for my fans (hi Mom).

Every time I go to the dang grocery store to buy chips, er, I mean vegetables, I pass by the nail polish stand and always seem to find a new OPI that will fit in perfect with my personal collection. At around $9.00 a pop, I try to not go overboard, but there are times when I can’t overcome my feelings. Such was the case when my eye was drawn to the polish stand last Friday, as I was buying my weekly tabloids and some apples (also known as cookie-dough ice-cream). A lightning bolt shot through me, causing me to stop in my tracks as a cranky elderly lady in one of those electric grocery-cart car things almost ran over me, muttering “…young kids and their damn ADD.” Okay, that didn’t really happen, but it would have been kinda’ funny if it had. So where was I? Ah, right – my lightning bolt. Short story, the nail polish “Flavor of the Month” is called Rally Pretty Pink.

You can buy this polish here. I also noticed Amazon is selling this for $2.00, where as I paid $8.50+. Sweet.

If I could have my dream social life be a nail-polish color, this would be it. I imagine myself partying with Prince Harry in Vegas, visiting members-only casinos or flying to St. Barthélemy with my 70-year old sugar daddy, Claude. My closet would be full of vintage YSL (which I would finally be able to pronounce correctly), and every Tuesday, around 8:30 p.m. I would say “Oh, Claude, sweetheart, not tonight. Now go eat your pea soup like a good boy,” while I went back to my evening of Perrier Jouët and eye-flirting with the cabana boy.

In the correct lighting, you can see that this polish has both pink and a gold shimmer. I tried to capture some of both before the sun went down.

One more close up of the polish

Now that I’m an official adult (which only happens when you reach the age of 26.5) I’ve become a lot more Stepford and a lot less Ikea. I am now as easily entertained looking at Pottery Barn and Z Gallerie online as I am foraging for new vintage stores on eBay. Luckily, my lovely folks back home in good ol’ California get where I’m at in life, because they have gifted me with the most AMAZING pitcher and martini glasses from a little store in Napa called The Playful Garden. They have an an actual zip fastner that connects to gold, painted on teeth. So cute!

My martini partner – White Beauty the horse head

The designer has a  variety of glassware, which I hope to gradually incorporate into my cabinets. Even though my girlfriends are I are more “Yellow Tail wine” than “Beluga vodka” (a choice driven by monetary means and not taste), these glasses manage to make even the most poverty-galvanized cocktails look A-list worthy.

Close up of martini glass

I have an ENORMOUS list of things I want on my iPad (that’s right, I could have easily said “I have an ENORMOUS list of things I want on my notepad, but then you wouldn’t know that I have an iPad). They can range from specifics like a Knuckleduster iPhone case , to more ambiguous items such as, well, the newest iPhone. One thing on my list of more simple items to own is a pair of studded Converse. My initial world-wide-web inquisition started with What Goes Around Comes Around, until Jar’Edo Wens (fascinating legend, do look him up) turned my perfectly chiseled cheekbones towards DIY sites, inspiring me to create my own. Oh, that and also the asking price of $295.00. I started buying the basics; I purchased (3) sets of 1/2″ pyramid studs (100 count each) from eBay and a pair of Converse high-top Chuck Taylor’s. I ordered from Nordstrom because they offer free shipping, and hey, it’s Nordstrom! Remember to order a size or half a size down when purchasing Converse as they run large pour les dames.  I wear a size eight in boots, and decided on the size seven with these sneakers, because I knew I wanted to take wearing socks in account. Below are the tools I chose before starting my project.

List of tools from left to right:
pyramid studs, pliers, sharp knife (I really don’t recommend this – use an exacto knife and not something you use to cut up your chicken with like I did), nail file

I started placing the studs from the back to the front, starting at the bottom. I made indents with the studs, and with the knife, made tiny holes so the stud prongs could go through easily.

This is about three days of work…

By the time I had put in my fifth stud, I was cursing myself for even attempting this project. It took me about two weeks to properly finish, because I was constantly taking out a placed stud after finding it to be crooked or too far or too close to the previous one (hence, the nail file, which was used to loosen the set prong inside the shoe).

Prongs inside the shoe. These studs have (2) prongs only.

My fingers were peeling skin when I finished, due to using the nail file and also due to using the pliers to push the prongs in so that I wouldn’t feel them when wearing the shoes. I wish I could say it was worth it, the whole “no pain, no gain” schpeal, but this project was a pain in the a**. Just buy the damn shoes online.

Side one

Side two

Usually, I’m a half-glass full kind of gal. But I feel like I have to make an excuse for this post, thus putting myself on the potential path of reiterating negativity. I woke up the other day for work (6:08 a.m. if you must know), to bed-hair and a mini-mall (also known as my closet). Oooh, I asked myself, what shall I wear today? As I pranced around my miniscule, appropriately bachelorette-themed apartment, I decided on a more casual approach – flowy tank top, designer jeans, a small heel, pave encrusted hoop earrings and a bun that J.Lo (pre- Casper, post-Diddy) would have been proud of. However, when my photographer, Ms. K.W. took these photos, I didn’t realize how absolutely yawn-worthy my accoutrement was until I uploaded the photos. I promise I’ll start posting photos of how I really dress in order to finally get advertisements to earn money. I mean, to keep people reading. Until, then, feast your eyes on the real world of a casual Thursday. Weird face expression and all.

top – Mushka by Sienna Rose, Inc., jeans (not pictured, but since they are higher end, I’m mentioning them) – William Rast, earrings – Macy’s, bow-head band – Goody, face – God

socks – stocking stuffer from Ma’, sock suspenders – eBay find, heels – too big because my feet seemed to have shrunk – Betsey Johnson Sophiaa Platform Pump

I love my sock suspenders. Lisa, the photographer, does not. She kept calling me Forest Gump. We had to shoot photos for this more than once because she was laughing at me and the camera was shaking.

Well, who has the last laugh now? Oh, that’s right – still Lisa. No matter, I think it’s obvious I’m about to start a major trend. And, nooo, that trend doesn’t have to involve forgetting to moistourize like the, em, model in the photo. Who isn’t me.

Exhibit A: Dorothy the Duck umbrella

Austin gets hotter than Karl Lagerfeld’s version of Hell (which is anytime he’s forced to pose with someone who isn’t a size zero), but summer is quickly coming to a close and the brief Fall season always seems to arrive before I can properly prepare. Luckily, this year I know of one thing I want/need (is there a difference?), and since it is time to replace my beloved umbrella that I’ve had since middle-school (see Exhibit: A) I found not one, but two. The first umbrella is just your classic lucite umbrella – think of Clockwork Orange meets Shauna Sand (see Exhibit: B). The second is the parapluie of my bumbershoot dreams (see Exhibit: C). For those of you that haven’t had the chance to either take Beginners French, or better yet, been to France (*cough* I’ve been three times *cough*), “Merde il Pleut” means “Shit, it’s Raining.” So, which one should I get? Both of them? Oh, okay, if you insist…

jacket – McCaulou’s (I added the lapel fabric embellishment and studded cuffs), dress – Target (I died a little admitting that), belts – various stores in Chile, S.A.

I was going through my phone the other day (side note if my boss is reading this – this was not between the hours of 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.) when I came across this gem from 2010 Austin Fashion Week. Thought we might be in the point of our relationship where I share more than a picture of my chin. Hope I’m not moving too fast for you.

About a month ago, some friends and I decided to have ourselves a Sunday Funday. We had brunch and enough mimosas to forget about our troubles (i.e. love handles, maxed out credit cards and too many Friday nights spent devouring frozen pizza). Then we did what most girls do after a bit of day drinking – we went to Neiman Marcus to check out the high-end shoe buffet. After trying on a pair of too-small Brian Atwood’s (wailing shoe Sales Associate – “They’ll stretch!”) we went to the next wallet-killer… clutches and purses. After ho-humming at the newest Balenciaga’s, we made our way to a designer whom I never really followed in the handbag world before – Stella McCartney.

Photo from Neiman Marcus

When I spied the black faux-fur Falabella tote, I finally understood how Paris felt when seeing Helen of Sparta for the first time. My intense stare was enough for my friends to step back in respect as “X,” the elegant and attentive Sales Associate, put the bag gently on my shoulder and pointed me towards the nearest mirror. A silence fell as parents hushed their children and the b*tchy chatter behind the make-up counters came to a sudden still. This bag was more me than my DNA codons. As I twirled in delight, my eyes fell upon a shopper’s greatest foe – the price tag. My heart fell, and my cheeks flushed with shame as I handed the bag back to “X.” For as much as I wanted the Falabella, a Helen of Sparta to call my own, I unfortunately had paid some attention in History class. Just as Paris had once faced the wrath of the Spartans, I knew I would face the wrath of my parents when I would have to ask for rent money. And frankly, at the $1,545.00 price, let’s not kid ourselves – I would probably end up asking for two months.