Info Burung Kicauan

Saturday afternoon found me in a hot mess of places I've temporarily sworn off of (think wallet restriction) - J.Crew, Free People, Zara, Barneys...  Why do I do this to myself?  Is it on purpose?  Perhaps to test my volition?  Quite honestly, I don't have a specific answer.  All I know is I escaped with wallet intact and two pairs of tights in bag. (Okay and a jacket.  But it was on steep sale so I get a pass).  Whatever the case, something wonderful happened as we strolled about - I was stopped at least ten times by women and men asking where I got my boots.  It's a wonderful feeling when you've leapt off your wallet for something you love only to find yourself twelve months later with strangers sharing your sentiments - especially when you're trying to save yourself from falling into boot cavern 2010. 

Making new friends is a treasured experience (present company included of course!), but there is something delicious about having old ones who know your secrets.  These are the relationships that don't require words, where trust has been built upon a firm foundation of shared good and bad times.  And so it goes, at least for me anyway, with my closet.  I love to go on the hunt for a new certain something - a dress, a unique ring or bangle for the jewelry collection, the perfect pair of jeans...or even better - the ultimate boot.  The act of discovering that "thing" is oftentimes just as exciting as the thing itself - but the relationship is truly put to the test once I get it home.  Is it as great as I thought it was?  Does it work with as many things as I'd anticipated?  Do I still want to wear it all the time after a couple of months?  Only the test of time will tell.  And so it has been with my military boots.  They have proven to be a never fail - I jumped at the chance to wear them in the summer when it was cool.  At first sight of fall I busted them out here in what turned out to be one of my favorite outfit posts yet.  And on Saturday they helped me to remember (as did everyone who complimented them) that I don't neeeeeeeeeed a new pair of boots.  Only a new pair of heels.  I kid, I kid!!

I realized something when I went out yesterday evening.  I don't get enough time outside.  I haven't walked briskly in the open air along the trail by the beach in months (I used to do this almost every day).  When was the last time I read a book cover to cover?  I cannot recall.  And how about Pilates?  (something I used to love and look forward to just for the sheer joy of stretching and relaxing) Honestly?  I can't remember the last time I did a full work out or Pilates session more than a day or two in a row.  It's been months.

My heart sunk as I stood in the open, breezy air as people walked by with their dogs and each other or alone.  All the things I'm neglecting are healthy for my heart and soul in the most intrinsic ways.  They make me who I am.  When I was thinking back on all the fun tourists I've met out on walks...oh the conversations I've had and stories I could tell.  And books?  Books are some of my best friends!  I have been robbing them of my time.  Truthfully?  I've been robbing myself.  Of just slowing down and pointedly taking time every day to focus on living and thinking, not doing.

Do you ever feel like this?  Like you're just going, going, going and you know things are slipping, but then one day the weight of it all bears down on you in a passing glance, a visit from a friend, or the wind in your hair?  Things have got to change.

Just when I thought it was safe to pack up my summer wardrobe and head into fall, someone apparently pushed Mother Nature off the merry-go-round and in her confusion she's decided it's still summer.  Either that or seeing as we didn't get much of a summer here in Southern California, I can only assume she's been on that ride since last fall and is trying to warm up now that she's been let off.  Poor thing.  Speaking of poor things, this morning when I went to get ready to meet Shannan (from Merci Blah Blah) for brunch I didn't realize it was, oh, 80 degrees outside.  Niiiiiiice.

The vast majority of my summer clothes are in bins so high in the closet it would take something akin to a circus act for me to get them down.  I was already running late and in no mood to swing from the hangbars, so decided to remain in present season and make.it.work.  A few jersey/caftan things stay hanging year round, so I grabbed one and mixed it with denim (rolled a la Isabel Marant seen here and here) and a pony hair clog that has been crying for fall freedom.  Despite the warm temperatures I was able to keep relatively cool while surrounded by people in shorts and t-shirts.  This weather really is getting confusing.


After some wonderful conversation and laughs over some equally delectable pavlova, the Chef and I bid farewell to Shannan and her husband, Tom so they could go enjoy the remainder of their day in Laguna.   We're hoping this fun couple ends up in California some day - it was one of those meetings where you feel like you've known the other people forever.  The best!  Mid-way through our drive home we stopped to take in some of the late afternoon sun in a quiet neighborhood near where the Chef grew up.  It was very much a perfect summer day.  In fall.





Not exactly sure how the superheroes made an entrance into this post - a touch too much of the sun perhaps.  How was your weekend?  I won another CSN gift certificate at jammer's giveaway, but fear they won't let me pile them all together to get my much sought after bazillion dollar fondue set.  Oh no, not you again Monday!

For me fall signifies a time to get serious.  As a child it meant returning to school with sharp HB pencils in my new pencil case, crisp outfits, and the smell of books in the beloved library.  Every year, no matter where I am in the world and what the weather may be, I instinctively become more solemn as we round the corner to September and tend to stay that way for most of the winter months.  It's school's fault I think - it forced me to shed the lazy days of summer and get back to business.

This also goes for my wardrobe.  It is true that growing up in Canada meant a free-for-all of amazing and wearable fall fashion from plaid and wool to velvet and fur, but it also meant a purposeful acquisition of basics that could be worn mostly together or intermingled between other trendier pieces.  I was a basics lover long before my Gap days, but it was my tenure there that instilled an appreciation for the good stuff - a plethora of white, black, navy and grey t's in long and short sleeves always kept on hand, be sure to include leggings in those same basic colors,  and don't forget denim in light to dark washes in tops, bottoms and jackets.  These lessons I learned at Gap are, in some ways ironically, as valuable to me as an adult as some of the things I learned in high school and university (shhhhhh don't tell!).  As long as I have the essentials in wardrobe basics, it is easier to maneuver from season to season without breaking the bank.  Fall is a time when I find myself rediscovering these wonderful pieces that have rested patiently in my closet through most of the brighter summer months, and this weekend was no exception.


Outfit details:  Tom Ford - Sunnies, Big Star - Denim Jacket, James Perse - T, Gap - Tank, American Apparel - Leggings, Target - Leopard Flats, J.Crew - Canvas Bag, Melinda Maria - Rings

I think the bloody heat has gotten to my mind.  Yesterday morning I woke up from a dream where I was begging my friend Amber to bring me a Pepsi Slurpee from 7-11.  It was the weirdest thing - right in the middle of the dream I remembered I don't even like those and started pleading for a glass of water.  Why I couldn't get my own is beyond me.  All I know is it was hot in that dream, and when my eyes opened it was hot in my house.  (But thankfully I had not sleep-dialed poor Amber! Can you imagine??). 

Do you ever have mornings where you wake up and just know you should stay in bed until the next day?  Like the gong show is just waiting to gong your life all day long?  Well I had that day yesterday.  First was the sweaty, drink-less dream. Then I rolled into my office after a shower where I could barely get cool water - only to discover my internet provider had lost service to at least a thousand customers in my area.  Isn't that special?  Not so much.  How, pray tell dear people, is a person to do their job sans internet?  Oh and never mind the fact that I pay my bills online and several needed to be paid by noon PST.  That's not happening!  I decide I'm going to be productive and do some laundry and clean-up...only to walk into my mudroom and find it filled with smoke from the new next door neighbor who sits in his yard and cigars it up all day and night while the breeze wafts over his fence and into my home.  Welcome neighbor!  When are you moving out again?!?

I could go on, but I'll stop and spare you the details.  Suffice it to say by 11:30am I was huddled under the bed with nothing but a peep hole to the tv where I could see that Victor Newman is being sued by his daughters.  (All I could do is hope the tv didn't go up in smoke like the time my blowdryer almost lit my hair on fire - true story).  Thankfully the Chef stopped by and rescued me from spontaneous combustion.  We strolled the streets and took in a new sushi restaurant before returning home late in the evening to realize My Generation starts at 8 and not 9pm.  Fitting, isn't it?

There are many reasons I have long been referred to as a "free bird" by the people who know me best.  In a nutshell I'm basically a non-conformist (aka all over the place) - especially in the apparel area. What's the term?  Eclectic.  Yes, that's it.  One minute (or hour) I can be looking over a J.Crew catalogue sighing over everything I neeeeeeeed, then two minutes later you'll find me eyes glazed over contemplating the lack of boho chic in my life a la Free People (and don't even get me started on my evening "reading" of the Shopbop website.  eyeglasses anyone?) .  Olivia Palermo is one of my best girlfriends when it comes to style mentors - and Jackie O has been an icon of mine for as long as I can remember - but then I'll enter my closet and come out happy as a lark in a pair of harem pants tucked into knee high military boots with a beat-up chunky sweater coat thrown over circa my early 90's grunge phase.  Are you like this, too?  Do you stick to any one style or find yourself moving fluidly between several?

Yesterday's Tucker post made my heart sing because it was so unexpectedly, off-the-wall perfect.  When I was in Canada I wore this and honestly cannot wait to wear it again.  It is probably my favorite blog outfit post to date, however this one ranks right up there as well.  And yet all 3 are distinctly different.  I say all this to say...enter the opposite end of the spectrum.  I'm going to throw myself out there and say there's little chance of us spotting Olivia Palermo in yesterday's outfit, but today's?  Oh yes - it is Olivia P all the way.


With the exception of the shorts each of these items has lived in my closet for at least a year, and I'm really proud of that.  One of my current goals is to work my closet as much as possible and enjoy what I already have.  As for the shorts - one of my "must" stops when I go home is Aritzia.  I have scored some major finds in their stores - they carry everything from top contemporary brands to their own private label items and I was determined to lay hands on a pair of their faux leather shorts for fall...of course I arrived in Canada to discover they were entirely sold out nationwide.  The Manager of their downtown Calgary store was so kind and tracked down the last pair in the company (I was so excited and grateful!!  and they said they should restock in October) in - wait for it - NEW JERSEY.  I went all the way home to find my dream shorts on the other side of the country I just came from.  Gotta love kismet!!  Somethings are just meant to be.  I'm sure Olivia would agree.

This past week in Canada has been a whirlwind of trampoline jumping, snack eating, hot tubbing, first day of schooling, game playing, fort building, and hugs with my niece and nephew.  In between all of these things, as I mentioned in the last post, the Chef and I managed to sneak out and take in some of Calgary's shopping including Holt Renfrew, Aritzia, and Club Monaco.  Yesterday after dropping my niece off for her first day of kindergarten *and subsequently crying with her mom on the way to the car, all the way back home, and for more than a few minutes upon our return - to be honest I think I might cry all year at the thought of her skinny little legs walking around the corner to the classroom all by herself* the Chef and I wandered outside and grabbed some photos on what turned out to be a quintessential Canadian fall day.

Normally I would provide you with a summary of the things that occurred over the weekend.  In this case, however, it pretty much consisted of:

1. Slept
2. Assisted the Chef in consolidating 3 closets into 1.5
3. Attended friends' wedding reception

-with 1 and 2 taking up the bulk of the time.  Number 3?  Well, there's the story and it's a horror - really every girl's nightmare come to life, so get ready.

A few weeks ago two of my close friends had a destination wedding in Mexico that the Chef and I were unable to attend *insert sad face here*.  When Saturday rolled around we were really excited to attend the small reception they were having here in California for some of us who had missed their big day.  The gathering was in the late afternoon and it was a perfect, warm summer day.

I laid out a cute dress, a pair of my fancy heels, picked out the accessories and got ready.  Everything was set to go and we were even going to be on time (miracle).  I had my shoes and handbag by the door, and the Chef and I were getting the card and gift together when he said, "UH, don't step there!"  I glanced down and saw some grass on the hardwood floor - that's it, that's all I saw.  I looked away and, when I looked back, thought he had removed it so proceeded to step down....into a pool of clear cat vomit laced with grass.  This resulted in a yelp and a "UGH!! What was that?!?" as I hopped down the hallway on one foot as he hollered back to me, "Didn't you hear me say don't step down?  There's cat barf!  Did you step in it?!?"  By that time I had stepped into the tub - fully dressed, hair and makeup perfect, sans shoes and bag - to rinse off my foot.  I turned on the water and instead of it coming out of the tap, it shot out of the shower head - precisely as I looked up - shooting me in the face, on the hair, and all over my dress.  Destruction on the low seas.

As a result we were 2 hours late to my friends' reception.  We missed the pre-food visiting, the dinner, and the video of the wedding.  Isn't that special?  Not so much.  Note to self:  carefully check bathtub faucet settings the next time you step in cat barf on the way to a special event.