April 1, 2015
I think it’s time we celebrate with open toed shoes.
I’d be kidding us all if I said I’ll start adding more color to my wardrobe, simply because the sun is shining and temps are rising. One thing I can promise you however, now that it’s stopped snowing and the slush puddles have gone away, is that I’ll switch up my shoes.
I’m a big fan of boots and booties, but enough is enough. Bring on the skimpy flats and strappy shoes. It’s spring time. Here’s a round up of some affordable, and some not so affordable shoes to help you ring in the spring season.
April 1, 2015
I think perhaps dressing like an adult, is half the battle.
Sometime shortly after the new year, I had an epiphany. I’m almost 30. Well, that’s a lie. I’m a year and some months away from actually turning 30, but it’s still close enough. I’m closer to 30 than any other major milestone year. And while I cannot wait to turn 30 (it feels like such a lovely, sophisticated, got your shit together but still young enough to be carefree and adventurous age, doesn’t it?) there’s one problem. I don’t feel 30. I don’t feel almost 30. I barely think I feel 25. I’m married, I have a great job. I own a house with a garage and two cars. I pay taxes and bills and buy groceries. But I still feel… hmph. Just not like an adult.
Maybe that’s a good thing. Call me young at heart? Good or bad, right or wrong, I desperate want to start treating myself as an adult. I want others to look at me and think I’ve got my shit together. I don’t want to be seen or compared to the 22 year olds just out of college.
So I started thinking… wondering… if dressing like an adult is half the battle. I live and work in incredibly casual environments, so I’m rarely required to dress up. I own more jeans then dresses, skirts and dress pants combined, and despite having a closet full of high heels, I generally almost always choose flats or boots.
So here goes. Here’s to one outfit at a time, finding small ways to start dressing my age. Little changes. Simple things. Reaching for a blazer when I’d usually not. Wearing heels to dinner on a Tuesday. Creating a look that’s still me. Casual, neutral (obviously), and comfortable. But just adding a bit more finish.
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April 1, 2015
I think everyone deserves a makeover, even your home.
My husband and I purchased our first home last spring. It’s an amazing house and I feel fortunate to come home to it each night, but you need to know. It was described to us by every real estate agent we met with as a “quite a steal” with “lots of potential.” While not truly a “fixer upper”, she definitely shows her age every now and again, and as the icicles melt and snow piles disappear, we’ve been reminded that the exterior could use some… freshening up.
Everything from the roof to the gutters to the brick walkway could probably use some love, but I have big dreams of starting with a good paint job. Problem is, picking a new color scheme for the exterior of your home is not as easy as I thought. Right now, I’m loving the looks of these light gray homes, with white trim and dark shutters. Looks crisp and clean, but I can’t tell what this color scheme would look like with our partial (red) brick facade.
How in the world do you select an exterior paint color(s) without fear of regret? Tips, tricks and online tools welcome. This is one paint job we don’t want to do over. Yea, I’ve been known to do that.
To click through for image sources, visit here.
March 19, 2015
I think a good hair cut is as sweet for the soul as vacation.
I’ve mentioned before that I admittedly hop on the trend train, after a trend has been a trend for so long it’s officially no longer a trend. So, here I go. I’m desperate to change up my hair. I’ve spent years lusting after long, long hair. And now, just like I (regrettably) did one day in 2004, and (regrettably) did again in 2008, I’m about to chop it all off. Okay, well, I probably won’t chop it all off. I know myself better than that, and balls I do not have.
But you know, that whole lob trend. Well it may just be my time. Surely, the lob has been on hollywood’s hot list for long enough that it will no longer be a trend, and instead be a thing of the past, any day now. Just my time to jump.
March 18, 2015
I think plans are better shared, and things put in writing keep people accountable.
I’d be lying if I said the husband and I are “really busy” people. More often or not, our life moves at a comfortable clip. We work, we travel – him more than me – we go out, we meet friends, we have appointments, we make time to get outside, and time to simply sit back. Sure there are times, when I swear it’s still January… in March. And there are other times when it feels like it’s been weeks since I’ve had a moment to sit and talk with my husband. But really, we’re not that busy.
So it’s slightly sad and slightly funny and sure, it’s slightly annoying, when at least a few times a month we completely fail to communicate with each other about plans. It’s that – what do you mean you told so and so that we’d have them over for dinner tonight? Or – what do you mean you’re leaving Tuesday for New York, and won’t be home until next Monday? Yes, despite living together, and working together, something like that has actually happened before.
I think we’re relatively good communicators, and we’re both fairly organized – me more than him – and like I said, we’re not that busy. But we recently picked up a habit that I’m really digging. We started using a weekly calendar. A simple, small dry erase board. Where we write down who is traveling where. Who has class which night. When one of us will be going out to dinner with friends. And, for the nights we’re both home, what we’ll be eating for dinner.
It’s lovely. It makes me happy to sit down and plan out the week each Sunday. And it makes me feel half as with it as my older sister who keeps an entire month’s worth of her family’s time beautifully penned on her kitchen wall calendar.
I’m not there, yet, but it’s a start to staying on top of our time, and keeping up with each other.
March 17, 2015
I think every brick should be painted white, and taxidermy is way cooler when it’s fake.
We’re lucky to have two fireplaces in our home, one decorated with a beautiful header and mantle, the other surrounded by more brick than I’ve ever seen. At 10′ wide and 16’+ high, the brick buildout is most certainly the central focus of the family room, and as you might expect, I am – quite counter to my husband’s vision – dying to paint it white.
Color aside, we’ve also yet to agree on what the proper decor for such a large, focal point should be. One single, oversized piece of art or a gallery wall of gorgeous, assorted items. Should we agree to the latter, I will without a doubt be tossing a few faux mounts up there. I’ve always been open to (faux) taxidermy, and the white (or gold) look is all too… me.
Watch out walls. If I’m vetoed on the family room fire place, these faux mounts will be finding their way into another room soon.
August 18, 2014
I don’t know much French. In fact I probably could count the words I know on one hand. But this sounds like a good approach to life. Miranda would agree, I’m sure.
August 14, 2014
Everyone always says it, and I always knew it was true, but sending hand written cards really is good for the soul.
I’ve been trying to become a better, more consistently on time card sender for years. Literally years. And I think just maybe, it’s finally clicked. Last week after realizing just how sadly uninspired I’ve been lately, I went to the store and bought 7 cards: 1 birthday, 1 thank you, 1 sympathy, and 3 congratulations. I picked each card carefully, taking borderline too much time, and wrote a simple but thoughtful message to a handful of friends and coworkers.
The response I got was warming. It was a good reminder that a small gesture can go a long way. And the simplest things can brighten someone’s spirits.
August 13, 2014
Remember when Sean and Catherine got married, and she kept referring to her dream wedding as ‘adult sexy’? Of course you do, you Bachelorette obsessed freaks like me. Well, I don’t know what adult sexy looks like, and I certainly don’t want it anywhere near my wedding, but I have spent an unhealthy amount of time trying to nail down the prefect phrase to sum up our wedding vision.
I come up short every time. I can’t describe my vision in 3 words, despite the fact I’ve been asked to do this by every single vendor we’ve worked with over the last 6 months. I have not yet coined the perfect (albeit awkward) term like Catherine. And with less than 3 months to go and almost every decor decision well underway, I guess I probably never will.
We’re holding our wedding reception at a renovated, yet rustic barn in Maine. It will, by nature, feel rustic. It’s a random barn in Maine, after all. But I want people to see and feel the contradiction that I see in my dreams. I hope it feels like a New York City dinner party fell into the middle of this random barn in Maine. There will be no DIY. Nothing that screams Etsy. There will be no farm tables or crafty bunting or lemonade drinks in bell jars next to a chalkboard menu. There will a barn, yes. And then there will be white, and gold. Simple, classic and (hopefully) elegant decor decisions, dropped into the middle of a barn.
Can I describe my wedding vision in 3 word? Heck no. All I can do is hope that it’s as beautiful and filled with love as the scene in my head. And something else – I hope every guest walks into the barn, pauses, maybe chuckles and thinks: this is so Whitney.
August 8, 2014
It’s been two months and eight days since we left Manhattan. Packed up and drove 300+ miles away from the city.
We traded our one bedroom apartment in an UES elevator building for a single family home on a quiet suburban street. We wake up each morning in a house with guest rooms. We have a garage… for our cars. Our own fenced in yard. Everything we wanted, we have. Although it still feels a bit like a mystery. Like someone else’s dream come true.
Life in western New York is quiet. We fall asleep to the crickets, and frogs. I think. I actually have no idea what the animals or bugs are making the noise, but it’s quiet. There’s an occasional train in the distance, but its nothing like the constant noise of New York. We don’t hear taxis fighting with street lights and miseducated drivers. We don’t hear drunks thrashing about on the sidewalks. We hear peace, and quiet at night. And peace, and quiet in the morning. We drive ourselves to work and to run errands. We can turn left, or right out of our street – either way we see sprawling farms. Fields growing endless acres of corn and soybeans and who knows what else. Working barns and historical barns alike litter the roads, and the village is lined with trendy restaurants, coffee shops and boutiques. Town hall is an old brick building, positioned in the center of town, and an old clock tower stands tall across the street. It may, or may not ring on the hour. I have no idea.
Life up here is quiet, but it’s filled with the kindest people who stop to say hi to you in the supermarket. People who slow down and let you go when you’re waiting to pull out of a side street. The families we’ve met around town are smart, (somewhat surprisingly) successful. The majority of the moved here just like us. 20, 30 years ago – fleeing the city. Determined to try suburban life for a year or two, but decided to never turn back. Now a days they pride themselves on their work life balance. Their children. The fact that they never missed a baseball game because everyone leaves the office at 5. They talk about their summer homes on the lake and endless days at the country club.
It’s only been two months and eight days since I’ve lived in western New York, but I have to say it’s been pretty damn wonderful.