I love beach-house-style decor, but when one doesn't...you know, own a beach house (or live within spitting distance of any particularly charismatic shore at all, for that matter) the goal is more Nautical Nods than full-on Nantucket All Day, Every Day.
A last-minute, couldn't-be-easier, everybody-will-love-them dessert solution for your July 4th festivities...
...but in a totally unsurprising turn of events, I left my camera in Rhode Island. So they'll have to wait.
In related news, did you know that I am utterly incapable of exiting a room gracefully? At auditions, I had this habit of finishing up the scene, graciously thanking the director/producers/whoever else was there, and swanning away, feeling as though I'd made a fabulous impression, only to immediately realize that I'd forgotten my purse/coat/whatever else I'd brought in the room, and then bustling back in, face all red, probably tripping over myself and stuttering, and handily destroying any semblance of said fabulous impression in three seconds flat.
So.
For those of you who don't read Photobooth, that's a Goo Goo Cluster (chocolate, peanuts, caramel and marshmallow nougat), and it was brought all the way from Nashville for me by my friend Nesrin. In other words: I am a very lucky girl.
(Happening later: manicure.)
Today's reader question - about relationship trust - is something that I have extremely strong feelings about. And the reasons for those strong feelings are deeply personal ones, but your feedback the other day encouraged me to try to open up a bit more here...
This chair is what I am TALKING about.
J. Crew has partnered up with designer Andy Spade (pictured above at the Partners & Spade studio/gallery/store, the site of Tuesday's StyleList event) to create a line of board shorts based on 1980s California coast styles, and I am quite sure that I will love them.
Why so certain, Batman? Here's the inspiration:
Yarrr.
Yeah, I don't have a clawfoot tub either. But I will one day.
The two things that I have been craving more than anything else for the past few months are strawberries and ice cream. I want them all the time...in fact, I would like them now, please.
The strawberry obsession is fairly particular (strawberries, in a bowl, no fussing around), but the ice cream thing is far more flexible: if I have my druthers, I'd like a banana split, but anything will do, really. And the other day, what came readily to hand was some Rocky Road from the Baskin Robbins over on 44th and 10th.
If I am lucky enough to find myself in a Baskin Robbins, I am ordering Rocky Road, and you cannot stop me. It's been that way ever since the sixth grade, when one opened up just around the corner from my school and quickly became The Coolest Place Ever. It was at that Baskin Robbins, actually, that I had my very first date, and my very first abortive attempt at a kiss.
I took my best friend Tyler along with me on the date, because in sixth grade it was really crucial that we spend the entire time freaking out and giggling rather than paying any sort of attention to the poor dude. He took us to Baskin Robbins, because, like I said, it was the see-and-be-seen hotspot of the moment, and bought me a cup of Rocky Road (I was too shy to order a cone, which was what I really wanted; I thought a cup was more ladylike). And he (grudgingly) bought Tyler one too, which I thought was unspeakably chivalrous, and most definitely merited a serious commitment.
