Lighten Up.

I like things that light up. You know, Christmas lights and glitter, neon signs, fireworks. Maybe it's because I'm a fire sign and drawn to things that blaze. When I was younger I remember 4th of July celebrations ringed in all kinds of backyard pyrotechnics, sparklers that stuck in the ground and were waist-high, and it's kind of been a while since I had my own personal little back yard light show. 

I came across a giant box of pretty small sparklers over the winter, or maybe it was the tail end of that season, and quietly started tucking away a nice little collection of the things (along with some colored smoke bombs) to save for when the weather was nicer. Of course, now I think how nice it would be to light up the snow, but something is really summer about setting things on fire (on purpose, and things you're supposed to). Memorial day was lovely, hot and a burning, taking absolutely forever to get dark, and I had a really strong feeling of okay, it's summer now, it's shorts and lemonade and grass.

Rebecca has always been really fantastic at photographing these things, and when her post broke I thought well, better get a move on! I'm pretty lazy when it comes to my camera--which I suppose is pretty awful, but, I'm not a big fan of fiddling around with things--and there's always the weirdness of hanging out in your backyard by yourself with a bunch of sparklers. Like, what am I supposed to do with these things once it's lit? Wave it around? I'm pretty happy just to stare at it and be excited by it so, girl laughing alone with camera and sparklers. 

It's my own weird little start of summer celebration, an offering to the good vibes of golden summers (the last few have been really good, practically molten in memory they're so bright), a chance to break out a dress left sleeping in the closet for a few weeks. Next up, marshmallows!

Dress from Dethrose Vintage, even though you can't see most of it. 

Getting Shorter.

I have a really hard time containing my love of puns and irritating alliteration when it comes to the titles of things. I think I went with the least obnoxious, cloying, thing that popped into my head but I still feel like that's pretty groan-inducing. 

Shorts: J. Crew, Blouse: Laura's Vintage, Tote: fieldguided, Shoes: Marshall's last summer, Sunglasses: Somewhere, 2 years ago. 

Shorts are hard for me though, and I suspect for a lot of others, so I have to lock in my little word crutches and campy verbal security blankets for this topic. It's tricky (there we go, another one I rely on) because I love them. For someone who drags her feet about pants I sure have acquired quite the collection of wildly-printed shorts. 

I regularly complain about my legs enough on various social media outlets that I get nice, reassuring messages about them. Which is lovely, and I appreciate it immensely, although it does point to this really stupid problem where women scrutinize their own bodies in really ridiculous, unfair ways. I have nothing to complain or feel self-conscious about, and I tell myself this often! On the one hand, I like to think, who cares, I will wear shorts and fuzz to anyone who has one little peep to say about it. On the other I can't help but sometimes feel self-conscious about it. 

Then there is the added worry of oh dear, are my shorts too short. Are they decent? Am I going to get unwanted attention from these, when really I just thought they were cute? There's a lot going on with pretty much any pair of shorts, so much baggage for a pretty small garment as far as getting dressed goes. 

All of this aside, I've spent the past two summers enjoying shorts with--gasp--3" inseams. For years I wouldn't dare, I'm not entirely sure why, something in the back of my mind totally wrote them off as being too short for me, they wouldn't look alright so I'm not even going to try it. And then one day I loved a pattern so much that I did, and I loved them, and was happy and comfortable and have barely thought about the whole ordeal again.

These shorts are, I think, already a favorite. They've got a nice little waist (finally, because goodness knows I've got piles of little vintage blouses just crying out to see daylight but hardly any high-waists that aren't skirts to help them on their way in the world), floral pattern, and a good tap-short shape. Of course, they look wildly different on the model than on me, but for once I'm not bothered in the least by this fact. 

I think I had planned for this post to be a little more positive, yay shorts! And it's not that I don't feel that way! I do! I've really been waiting through a long winter to get to this point, daydreaming about shorts and sun on legs even in the fluffiest and most sparkling days of snow! It's just, you know. I feel the need to acknowledge the little pipsqueak of a voice that second-guess these kinds of things, and all the dumb feelings that come along with a measly, adorable, pair of shorts. 

Other randoms on this one include:

It's finally hitting mid-70s and sometimes, 80 degrees out there so I am justified in pulling out my fieldguided endless bummer tote. Not that I've been waiting to use it again since September or anything. 

I've finally sorted out the crown-braid mystery just in time. I've never been more sick of ponytails in my life. Maybe, having been all productive in blog-land lately, I'll pull myself together and post a How I Do This on that. 

Thanks again Eden, for snapping these for me!

Over It, I Need It.

I'm obsessed with finding a pair of overalls.

 It started several years ago, when a now-defunct music shop I frequented had a rotating pile of vintage in the back. I had overalls when I was a kid (the last time I remember actually wearing a pair I was about 3, and I was rolling around in big piles of soil in the backyard throwing dirt clods at the fence. I remember this because looking down at my legs revealed that the denim knees and thighs were totally caked in some pretty delicious mud).

My foray into wearing vintage was just starting to bloom for realsies, and this pair of dark denim overalls was calling to me. I can't remember enough about them to hindsight-date them. They were way too big. Not even in a fashion-y kind of way. But I wanted them. A week or so later they were gone, which is probably a good thing as they were in no I would have ever worn them at the size they were, and they were pretty awful.

But since then it's been lurking in the back of my mind, a desire usually popping up in the early days of spring. Last year I saw a few on instagram, usually on someone adorable out in a sunny field, or shopping with an armful of paper-wrapper flowers, and of course I get that feeling in my gut that says yes, I want that image in my life!

70s denim overalls by Mayflower Supply Co.

And then Mayflower Supply's lookbook and collection went live, and the desire became concrete. To be honestly they're popping up all over on street-style blogs, and suddenly they're trendy again, but as far as I'm concerned this only means I'll hopefully be able to find a pair that don't give me a really bad case of saggy baby-butt. 

I'm pretty sure I've spent the better part of the last twenty (okay maybe not 20 but at least 13 or so) years actively avoiding this kind of garment. I haven't thought about the click the little clasps make in ages, or the profound frustration when said clasps don't work and you spend most of your time wearing overalls attending to the straps. I'm okay with this trend. 

This one has been going around for a while, but I found no credit, found on tumblr.

I mean, I've been hunting quietly for a pair for a little bit, but it's surprisingly hard to find these things out in the wild (there's no way I can grab a pair without trying on). 

I just have visions of straw hats and white t-shirts under denim for idyllic summer activities. I will find a pair. They don't need to be vintage (in fact I'm pretty skeptical I'll find a vintage pair I like), but I've got a vision going on, and it will be fulfilled. 

Next step, jelly heels. 

Soft Serve Summer.

It isn't summer yet, not quite, but that hasn't stopped me from already eating my fill of soft serve from my favorite little spot not too far from home. I like to go vacuum my car across the street (something that it needs often because I am a champion car-snacker) and then reward myself with a baby cone of chocolate soft-serve with rainbow sprinkles (promptly dropping a few on my nice clean car carpet). People are really particular about soft-serve in this area (maybe in every area, but there are lines of battle drawn in the ink of nostalgia in these parts especially), so I'm pretty loyal to Jim's Tastee Freeze. Partly because it's less than ten minutes from home but also because look at totally amazing ice-cream sign!

I've also had visions of an outfit post for this dress with ice cream and sprinkles for probably two years now (yeah I've been sitting on it and not wearing it for that long. But it needed some mending, and honestly when I bought it I was slightly more svelte than my natural self tends to be, so, you know) , but it depends on cooperative weather and my ability to drag someone with me instead of standing out there with a tripod in the middle of the day, running back and forth with a melting cone like some kind of selfie-obsessed lunatic (note: nothing against selfies, I love them, but after all these years I still really hate taking my own shots in public spots). But anyway, something about it just looked ice-creamy. I got soft-serve vibes from it, nipped-in waist and demure little bow collar,  it's a pony-tail drive-in milkshake kinda dress. It wanted sprinkles. Yesterday promised warmth and sun, perfect for an ice-cream soft-serve lunch. 

There might be nothing as strange and mildly embarrassing as having someone take pictures of you eating an ice cream cone. Partly because it takes about 45 pictures to find one or two decent mid-bite images, and partly because it's just, I don't know. Maybe I did it to myself with the heart-shaped ode-to-Lolita glasses. Whatever (forever).

Like I said, I've had my fair share of soft-serve so far this year, but I'm glad to get all dressed up and silly for it, and to go with a friend instead of just as a reward for myself for keeping my car clean(ish). I feel like I can start summer for real now, or at least, complain about how I want it to be while we occasionally dip back into 55 degree days. 

Dress: Vintage (funnily enough, it has a Jonathan Logan label sewed into it, but appears to be home-made, so, there's one for the vintage police), Jacket: J. Crew, Shoes: Thrifted, Pin: Laura's Vintage

Thank you to my friend Eden for snapping these!