Obviously, the best part of going back to school has always been shopping. Now that "going back to school" for me really means "moving to Paris for a year," I'm going to need some sturdy yet stylish shoes, a chic nail color (or five...), and my ever-loved paper planner. Lucky for me, pairing athletic footwear with pretty much anything is totally on trend at the moment, and dark polish is always good for fall. And with my visa finally being put into action (huge sigh of relief) I can actually start writing in that planner! Cheers to grad school.
february finds
February is a month of romance. Yes, there is one day in particular associated with love and lust. But the entire month is a sweet, tentative marriage between winter and spring, the first delicate blush of blooms and sun and fresh air amidst bursts of fiercely cold rain and snow. When I think of February, I think of pinks and reds and purples, of love and lust and romance and wintry sunrises. I think of lingerie, flickering candles, beautiful words, but also of a time to peer into spring from the last gasp of winter and prepare for what's ahead. This month I started (a little late, I suppose) planning for what is to come in 2014. I bought a beautiful planner from local San Francisco artist Julia Kostreva, where I've been setting my life in ink rather than digital words that disappear amidst a sea of apps on a little screen. For the romance portion of the month, I've given my sleeping attire a much-needed adult update and invested in a black silk nightgown, indulged in a rather large Voluspa cut glass jar candle from Anthropologie, and read the inspired love poems of Pablo Neruda. And then there are the shoes - the perfect pair of black booties, which drove me an hour out of the way on my recent trip to LA to pick up the last pair of 6 1/2s in all of California. February was a good month for some quality shopping.
château de versailles en automne
{ bag / boots / shorts / top / blazer / sunglasses }
The phrase "consolidation of wealth" has never been more fitting than in 18th century France, and the Palace of Versailles is perhaps the best example of French monarchic wealth. There really is no describing it - words are too one-dimensional, and photographs cannot capture the immensity and depth of the palace, even in the darkest halls and smallest corners. It is truly one of the most ornate, vast, and breathtaking estates still standing. The palace is so grand that it, along with its most famous inhabitant Marie Antoinette, literally sparked the French Revolution. Since it is fall, the grounds are devoid of the famous blooms and fountains. Instead the statues stand bare and stark in the cold air, looking over disciplined topiaries and still fountains like they have for the past 200 years. I can't help but imagine how many have looked down the length of the gardens toward the horizon, what secret rendezvous have taken place in the topiary mazes, who has been born here and who has died here. I also can't help but wonder why we as a species are so drawn to wealth and power and possession and beauty: human greed, the most innate and unchanging historical truth. And of course, this innate tendency towards beauty is why I am traversing the grounds of Versailles pretending to be a princess who calls this her home.