Life.Style

EVERYDAY THOUGHTS ON MY STYLE OF LIFE
“When in doubt, crochet it out.” I was out at Vermillien the other day grabbing drinks with an old friend of mine. We caught up, as (per usual) it had been awhile since we’d seen each other. We connected about various parts of our seemingly similar lives; i.e. we both just moved to Seattle, both come from sunny climates, and both have no idea sometimes what the hell is going on in the culture of the PACNW. Here’s a great example: Friend: So, I had my review at work the other day to discuss my performance since being here in Seattle. Me: How did that go? Friend: Interesting. Me: ??? Friend: Well, my boss asked me how I was adjusting and I told her honestly that I had been feeling pretty depressed. Me: Well, that sounds pretty normal. The winter weather’s been difficult for both of us. Friend: Yeah, but her response was, “well, have you tried crocheting?” Me: Seriously? Friend: Yeah. She was dead serious. He explained that with a solemn face, she questioned whether he had tried it because she honestly believed that it was the answer to his problem. Now, my first thoughts are: What on earth has this girl been smoking? and What on earth would a 20-something year old guy be doing crocheting? THAT would be a red flag for me….. like, um hey buddy, could you show me the difference between knit and purl? Oh Pacific Northwest, I love you and I’m completely baffled by you all at once. Oh! and in case you were wondering what ever became of my sweet friend and his weather woes, we went out and danced our cares away. Then we crocheted a warm and fuzzy future to look forward to. Until next time! A

“When in doubt, crochet it out.”

I was out at Vermillien the other day grabbing drinks with an old friend of mine. We caught up, as (per usual) it had been awhile since we’d seen each other.

We connected about various parts of our seemingly similar lives; i.e. we both just moved to Seattle, both come from sunny climates, and both have no idea sometimes what the hell is going on in the culture of the PACNW.

Here’s a great example:

Friend: So, I had my review at work the other day to discuss my performance since being here in Seattle.

Me: How did that go?

Friend: Interesting.

Me: ???

Friend: Well, my boss asked me how I was adjusting and I told her honestly that I had been feeling pretty depressed.

Me: Well, that sounds pretty normal. The winter weather’s been difficult for both of us.

Friend: Yeah, but her response was, “well, have you tried crocheting?”

Me: Seriously?

Friend: Yeah. She was dead serious.

He explained that with a solemn face, she questioned whether he had tried it because she honestly believed that it was the answer to his problem.

Now, my first thoughts are: What on earth has this girl been smoking? and What on earth would a 20-something year old guy be doing crocheting?

THAT would be a red flag for me….. like, um hey buddy, could you show me the difference between knit and purl?

Oh Pacific Northwest, I love you and I’m completely baffled by you all at once.

Oh! and in case you were wondering what ever became of my sweet friend and his weather woes, we went out and danced our cares away. Then we crocheted a warm and fuzzy future to look forward to.

Until next time!

A

Dapper (John) Doe

I saw a style today that I hope NEVER catches on in the realm of fashion.

As I was walking down 5th Avenue, I spotted a young man surrounded by his posse of friends. This would have been any ordinary day of spotting young, 20-something dudes, except this special young gentleman was rocking a look I’ve never seen.

He was wearing dapper navy, leather shoes (LOVE). He had a nicely tailored suit on (LOVE). The suit was a darker shade of powder blue with a pretty heavy sheen to it ( Hmmm, QUESTIONABLE). He was sagging the pants (and I’m talking S-A-G-G——) of this suit, at which point my heart turned black.

Who would do that to a well-tailored suit? Even if the color and intense shine ARE a bit kooky. That suit never did anything to you, and you’re gonna sag it….. Shame on you.

I guess I should have seen it coming with his bad hair to match, but let me just say this young, aspiring to be trend setting men:

Do not follow this man’s lead. Please. Although you all want to be fresh, and unique, there are some things that should never be attempted. Sagging a tailored, slim fitting suit down to your knees and then attempting to walk is one of them.

Take it from me, I am a lady, the species you’re trying to impress, and we’re not into it.

Thanks bunches,

A

A real vision-ary.

Sometimes I wonder what it really takes to survive. 

Not physically, but to mentally surpass all of the obstacles that are hurled at us each and every day. We’re demanded to scatter our focus in so many different directions it seems nearly impossible to keep the light on what WE truly find important.

For some it’s a steady career, others may be a creative venture. Whatever it may be, keeping it close to your reach can be hard.

In the world of design, we talk endlessly about balance. The balance of pairing a set basics with a statement piece, or pairing positive and negative space to keep the equilibrium. 

Isn’t that what we’re all looking for in our lives? Some kind of balance that partners our driving ambitions with the freedom to just be still and take in the success of our ventures?

I’ve spent alot of my time thinking about what would create balance in my life, and I’ve come to the conclusion that focusing on my vision is key. However, my vision requires one simple accessory to keep it clear.

In fashion, a key accessory can make or break the entire look so you must select carefully. I realize that I liken a lot of what I speak about to fashion and it’s realms. Perhaps it is because this is what I know.

I’ve decided that a perfectly constructed pair of bifocals is ideal, even at an early age.

They should be a keen balance of rose colored lenses on top to keep the world colorful and light. On the bottom, they should be clean and sharp so that the ground is seen clearly. This balance keeps the focus on dreams and ambitions while pairing it with the reality and grounding force to help actually accomplish what is set out to achieve.

If you can pick one accessory for every day you wake and face the world, it should be one that induces fun.

This is one that I stand wholly behind.

It’s guaranteed to induce a few good looks from your direction.

Brilliant-in the basics

Earlier today, I was talking to two dear friends; one before the other. Each conversation ended up the on the same topic: the lack of human connection in everyday life.

We ladies complained about customer service not being what it once was. We discussed the fact that corporations don’t treat their employees “the way they should.” We admitted that most people not fair to each others in relationships of all kinds. In short, people don’t take the time to care.

We’ve gotten so busy forging ahead and chasing after the next biggest/best/newest thing, that we’ve gotten rusty with the basic building blocks of communication and genuine intent.

Without those things, we get lost in the hustle bustle of day to day life, without any sense of connection to one another.

My dear friend Jamie shared that her office, which writes strategies for various departments of the US military, relies on the strategy of being “brilliant in the basics.”

Wait, come again?

She explained that they focus on being truly brilliant in the basics of their job. Otherwise, the even most complicated strategy begins to unravel.

Aren’t they right? Can’t this be applied to every facet of life?

I’ve also been told that sometimes you have to “slow down to speed up.”

Combine these two mantras with “love one another,” and I think we’ve got the basic trifecta for a pretty meaningful year.

Don’t you?

A

I’ve been thinking about Africa. Alot lately.

I believe in serendipity, and there seems to be a feeling in the air about Africa that’s been subconsciously brewing since last October. The details are no coincidence, and honestly I think that’s the beauty about life.

I hired a girl last October for a store in Portland, Oregon. We talked at length about many things including her stint living in Kenya. That led to her interest in all of our product from Africa, specifically Kenya because she had a deep, nostalgic connection to it.

I moved shortly there after, but somehow retained her heightened awareness of Kenyan design and influence. I became increasingly fond of it.

A curiosity sparked in me, and then I stumbled upon a group of people doing works around the city and the globe, one of which was feeding the children raised in the slums of Kenya. It struck a chord in me as soon as I heard those words.

I LOVE food, I’m oddly terrified of children (although I dream of someday having my own and eye them from afar like a little doe), and somehow the thought of living over there (just for a brief moment) captured me. I light up at the idea of taking everything I had worked so hard for and giving/selling/throwing it away to live an uncomplicated life centered around nothing more than loving (TRULY LOVING) others in ways that many Americans simply cannot comprehend. I’m thrilled and the thought that I might be lucky enough to get the chance.

I’m typing so fast that I can feel the thrill pulsing through my fingertips. Or it could be slight terror at the reality of what this venture will look like. It certainly will not be comfortable; in fact, it will likely be as far from it as I could get.

What it will likely be, however, is the most rewarding and life-altering adventure that I could take in my life of luxury and easy paths. Sure, some of the avenues of my life have been hard to navigate, but on the whole my life has been a pretty smooth thoroughfare.

I need support- mental most likely- to stay on the course and see this idea through.

Can you stand beside me on this one?

XO,

A

This morning I had a moment. I woke up to the sound of freezing rain. I got myself out of bed and put on some decently presentable clothing. I grabbed my laptop and headed out for a cup of coffee and a Saturday morning pastry. I headed North to the local family bakery called Larsen’s on 80th. I grabbed a seat. Armed with my macbook and a cup of Joe, not to mention my enormous prune filled pastry twist (oh, trust me- don’t be fooled by the prune. It’s their best flavor!) I sat down to write. Then I stopped. The stack of Redbook magazines sitting on the ledge of the rain-soaked window caught my eye. I found myself reading articles about love stories and valentine’s day delights from years gone by (I think the issue was from 2008). I emerged from my tunnel only to notice that I had become, even if only for a mere moment, THAT GIRL, I was sitting in a bakery, alone, surrounded by families feeding small children, eating a a pastry for two (or four really) by myself, and sipping a cup of coffee while reading articles on “How to be lucky in love.” It’s true. I’ll admit it. I was okay with it. In the absence of my girlfriends, whom I don as my suit of armor in most cases like this, I felt just fine being that girl. I struck up conversations with families. I chatted with kids (who normally terrify me for reasons that I cannot explain.) It was a brilliant moment. Truthfully, we’ve all got a little of that girl in us and frankly, she’s not so bad. Every now and then you just have to indulge her. Until next time, Happy Snowy Saturday from “that girl” the great Pacific Northwest!

This morning I had a moment.

I woke up to the sound of freezing rain. I got myself out of bed and put on some decently presentable clothing. I grabbed my laptop and headed out for a cup of coffee and a Saturday morning pastry.

I headed North to the local family bakery called Larsen’s on 80th. I grabbed a seat.

Armed with my macbook and a cup of Joe, not to mention my enormous prune filled pastry twist (oh, trust me- don’t be fooled by the prune. It’s their best flavor!) I sat down to write. Then I stopped. The stack of Redbook magazines sitting on the ledge of the rain-soaked window caught my eye. I found myself reading articles about love stories and valentine’s day delights from years gone by (I think the issue was from 2008).

I emerged from my tunnel only to notice that I had become, even if only for a mere moment, THAT GIRL,

I was sitting in a bakery, alone, surrounded by families feeding small children, eating a a pastry for two (or four really) by myself, and sipping a cup of coffee while reading articles on “How to be lucky in love.”

It’s true. I’ll admit it. I was okay with it. In the absence of my girlfriends, whom I don as my suit of armor in most cases like this, I felt just fine being that girl.

I struck up conversations with families. I chatted with kids (who normally terrify me for reasons that I cannot explain.) It was a brilliant moment.

Truthfully, we’ve all got a little of that girl in us and frankly, she’s not so bad. Every now and then you just have to indulge her.

Until next time,

Happy Snowy Saturday from “that girl” the great Pacific Northwest!

Sometimes life just gets so interrupted, or perhaps its life that is interrupting my tasks and blogging. Who knows.

Needless to say, sorry for the delay!

XO

Let me tell you a little story: I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine about what our relationship deal breakers would be. Everything from cheating to smoking went up on the dockett. In the end, we both settled on Toe Shoes. Toe shoes? Yes. In our defense, I’m vain and he’s a really well-dressed gay man. Now, fast forward to a few weeks ago when I moved into my new apartment. Upon moving my belongings into my new dwelling, I ran into this guy in the elevator. He seemed friendly enough, and we began chatting about nothing in particular. As the weeks went on we began to pass each other quite frequently, and I began to notice that he went for really consistent runs in these toe shoes. I was horrified/fascinated/appalled/intrigued everytime I saw him. This lad later went on to ask me to dinner. I said yes (Andy don’t kill me). I couldn’t help it! I was waiting for the moment where he would show {As a side note, I just typed shoe here instead of show. A subconscious slip? I think yes.} up in his toe shoes ready for dinner. That didn’t happen, although it would have made a pretty excellent story. I was relieved nonetheless. Anywho, this lad turned out to be a nice guy despite me judging him on his choice in shoe. Things ultimately didn’t work out, and that’s okay.  Sometimes the fun’s in breaking your own rules. ‘Til next time…… <3

Let me tell you a little story:

I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine about what our relationship deal breakers would be. Everything from cheating to smoking went up on the dockett. In the end, we both settled on Toe Shoes. Toe shoes? Yes. In our defense, I’m vain and he’s a really well-dressed gay man.

Now, fast forward to a few weeks ago when I moved into my new apartment. Upon moving my belongings into my new dwelling, I ran into this guy in the elevator. He seemed friendly enough, and we began chatting about nothing in particular. As the weeks went on we began to pass each other quite frequently, and I began to notice that he went for really consistent runs in these toe shoes. I was horrified/fascinated/appalled/intrigued everytime I saw him.

This lad later went on to ask me to dinner. I said yes (Andy don’t kill me). I couldn’t help it! I was waiting for the moment where he would show {As a side note, I just typed shoe here instead of show. A subconscious slip? I think yes.} up in his toe shoes ready for dinner. That didn’t happen, although it would have made a pretty excellent story. I was relieved nonetheless.

Anywho, this lad turned out to be a nice guy despite me judging him on his choice in shoe. Things ultimately didn’t work out, and that’s okay. 

Sometimes the fun’s in breaking your own rules.

‘Til next time…… <3

INSPIRATION STATION I recently moved even further north to Seattle, WA.  My friend Mike keeps talking about how I get cooler with age. I keep telling him it&#8217;s only because I keep moving further north&#8230;.. the jury&#8217;s still out for debate. Anyway, Seattle is a city unlike most that I&#8217;ve lived in. I wake up to the sound of seagulls, I can see mountains from my roof. The space needle looms in the distance, and lights up the sky at night. It&#8217;s been a whole new scene for me, in a way that feels oddly reassuring. Call me crazy, Seattle, but I think I&#8217;m into you.

INSPIRATION STATION

I recently moved even further north to Seattle, WA. 

My friend Mike keeps talking about how I get cooler with age. I keep telling him it’s only because I keep moving further north….. the jury’s still out for debate.

Anyway, Seattle is a city unlike most that I’ve lived in.

I wake up to the sound of seagulls, I can see mountains from my roof. The space needle looms in the distance, and lights up the sky at night. It’s been a whole new scene for me, in a way that feels oddly reassuring.

Call me crazy, Seattle, but I think I’m into you.