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One Day’s Worth Of Googles

Who knew Kendrick was such a mystery man? 

The other day, in LA, I was driving around with Francesca and her cousin Valentina, and Francesca said "Google 'flexible old lady,' will you?" So I did - no questions asked - and this wonderful, wonderful image came up. The point of the Google was that Francesca had seen the image somewhere before and wanted me to see it because she said it was her vision of me as an old lady. But out of context, that's a hell of a random search.

But the thing is, the very identity of Google searches is based on the fact that they're decontextualized. So they're kind of always funny. Or at least bizarre.

Style

My Favorite Fall Trends: A Top 10 List, In No Particular Order

via

I'm officially ready for fall to commence. It's still hovering in the high 90s out here, but every day lately I wake up, open my closet, and gaze upon my lovely OTK (and thigh-high) boots, awaiting the day when I can throw them on with a big old sweater dress.

What I like about the trends I've been seeing for Fall 2017 is that they seem so wearable, even for someone like me, whose lifestyle rarely, if ever, involves going anywhere fancier than Aqui's for Sangria Swirls (hush, they're delicious). Sure, there are trends that I will not be embracing, such as uber-long nails (which do not mix especially well with diaper-changing), ruffles upon ruffles (the look is just not cute on me), or tiny bralette tops that look like actual bras (that ship has sailed, my friends), but there's so much good fashion to look forward to in the coming months.

Decor

Side Yard Makeover: From No Man’s Land To Most Useful Space Ever

...What is this "side yard" of which you speak?

Side yards are not a thing I have any experience with, and definitely are not something I have given much (if any) thought to. Like, ever.

I didn't even have a side yard at our house in NYC (or, I guess I kind of did because there was a space between our house and the house next to us, but it consisted largely of a spricket-and-poison-ivy-infested wasteland. Then I moved out to the California suburbs, and everyone here seems to have a pair of functional side yards. We have neighbors who use the long, narrow spaces that run along the edges of their houses for storage, as dog runs, to hold chicken coops, as play spaces for their kids - all kinds of things.

Style

When In Hollywood…

double helix high lobe piercing from body electric tattoo

You know what my daughter did on Friday? She tried to take down two of the Willis sisters (Scout and Tallulah, specifically). And she very nearly succeeded.

Here's what happened.

We drove down to LA for a couple of days to see my friend who just had a baby, and to touch base with a few people who I love and haven't seen in ages. I had an errand to run over on Melrose and found myself stopping into Body Electric Tattoo "just to say hi" (#famouslastwords). And then all of a sudden I was getting not just one piercing, but three (plus replacements for two existing holes) - more on that in a minute - and as I was leaving I found myself standing at the top of a verrrrrry steep, verrrrrry long set of stairs right next to Scout and Tallulah, because when you're in Hollywood and find yourself standing next to two people, there is a very good chance that they are related to Demi Moore.

ENTREES

I Have Conquered The Paella

Okay, so I had help. A lot of it. And okay, so maybe my primary contribution was to hover around my paella-knowledgeable friends taking photographs and taste-testing ingredients just to make sure nothing was poisonous, rather than actually "cooking." But still.

The first time I ate paella was in Barcelona, which seems like the right place to have your first experience, except mine was kind of traumatic. The bowl arrived and I gave it a stir, and all of a sudden the creature from the black lagoon came launching up at me out of the depths, all claws and tentacles and such. (Spoiler: it was a crawfish. But when you do not expect to see a crawfish and are surprised by one in your food, terror is a totally acceptable reaction to have. Those are scary little fuckers.) I've never tried making it myself because it looks complicated, and saffron is expensive, and it seems like the kind of dish that should be made from a recipe handed down from a relative.

Enter: my friend Erin, whose mother-in-law Linda has a family recipe, and who just so happened to be in town last weekend.

DIARY

Our Very Own Superheroes

Us, 2014

I woke up around 1AM on Sunday night and stumbled out towards the living room, where I found Kendrick setting the alarm and  getting ready to come to bed. "Hey," he said. "Why are you up?"

I pointed at our son's closed bedroom door. "I wanted to go lay down with him," I said.

Lifestyle

Links & Love & Stuff

All day every day.

Remember the shoot I did with Francesca for sirena + the sea? I loved her kimono wrap so much I ordered one for myself in navy, and wore it all weekend long - over a bathing suit by the pool; over a lightweight nightgown around the house; over a striped maxi dress wherever and everywhere.

Here is a furry sloth pillow. You're welcome.

Lifestyle

When You’re The Mom That Doesn’t Cry

Let me introduce you to our newest contributor, Claire Zulkey - I've been a fan of hers for years, and am so excited to have her writing appear on RG. That said, I think it's safe to conclude that when it comes to the topic of crying, she and I are different types of humans. - Jordan

When You're The Mom That Doesn't Cry

“Mommy, I decided you shouldn’t cry today.” That’s what my son told me on his birthday last week: the months prior, we had an ongoing joke where I threatened to cry on his fifth birthday and we talked about whether or not I should do it. This was inspired by me telling him about how vividly I remember my own mom crying on my fifth birthday; he decided that if he had the choice, he would rather not have a similar memory.

Decor

I Never Thought I’d Hire An Interior Designer…But Here’s What Happened When I Did

When I was about fifteen, my parents decided to hire an interior designer. His name was Val, he charged a small fortune (or at least I assume he did, based on the fact that he essentially lived at our house for two months while he sifted through piles of curtain fabric samples and such), and he did a very nice job, save for the fact that he covered the walls of our kitchen with a paper featuring French quotes about love on the very same day that my French boyfriend broke up with me and utterly destroyed my heart. 

(I walked into the apartment - already in tears from our breakup conversation - took one look at the kitchen walls, and collapsed on the floor, screaming "WHYYYYYY?" To which my mom, to her credit, responded, "Oh, Jesus, Jordan. Get off the floor.")

It's safe to say that I've never been super into the idea of hiring an interior designer myself. I mean, I have my own ideas about what I like, and while I may not be especially good at things like planning and foresight (which means that my decor plans tend to undergo a lot of revision as I discover that, say, the rug that I ordered in no way fits in the room I intended it to live in), I also don't want to spend thousands of dollars for a service that, to my mind, seems a little...I don't know...indulgent?