This bag is legitimately the only thing making me want to get dressed.

Bag c/o Shorts (similar) Lipstick Sandals

When I was in my early twenties, I did a lot of shopping on Canal Street, in New York City. Well, not on Canal Street itself; that's mostly fruit stands and storefronts selling plastic frogs and three-for-the-price-of-one Big Apple t-shirts, all of which I'm all stocked up on, thanks. Where I did my shopping was in the fluorescent-lit, cement walled rooms above and behind these storefronts; you got to them by following someone muttering "real bags gucci chanel gucci chanel" down an alleyway, and then through a locked door and down winding hallways until you got to the place where the bags were stacked ten-deep on white plastic tables.

Potato chips: the accessory that never goes out of style.

Vintage Dress (similar)  All Saints Sandals  Sunglasses

One of my most constant refrains, when it comes to clothing: "It's super cute. I have nowhere to wear it." And it's true: jeans and t-shirts just make more sense for a job that mostly involves sitting in front of a computer, and a life that involves children who run really, really fast, mostly in the direction of things that they shouldn't run towards, like the edges of cliffs and such.

Oh so that's where my Twix bars went.

It was the snowboarding glove that made me realize just how far I've come from this glorious day; the day when I got rid of a studio apartment's worth of possessions. I have not seen that glove's partner in a good five years, and yet - despite the fact that we have moved three times since I last laid eyes on it - I am absolutely positive it will turn up someday. It has been sitting either on or under that bench (which is located in my bedroom, in my direct line of vision) for six months, at least. It is dusty. I don't have any idea how or why it came to live on my bench, or why, but it has at this point become a part of my daily landscape; I regard it fondly, like a slobby little friend who I know I can call on in a pinch for all of my snowboarding-glove needs.

I have used it once, actually: as a makeshift gardening glove to help my neighbor weed her garden. After I was done I gave it a shake to get off the dirt, and plopped it right back down on the bench in my bedroom. Where it belongs.

Now this looks like a good wedding.  

Take a look at the photo below this paragraph. See anything missing? Like maybe on the far left side of my ring finger? Sigh. (This isn't actually a huge deal; diamonds that size tend to cost relatively little to replace so long as you're not a stickler for quality, which I'm not. And besides, Kendrick has weird radar for locating tiny, sparkling things like earring backs and wayward stones, so it'll probably turn up somewhere.)