Q. Jordan,
I'm almost 32 weeks pregnant and my baby shower is coming up later this month. My friend thinks maxi dresses look cute on pregnant people, and while I agree I have no idea how to wear one in the winter. I guess I would need a cardigan or light coat (even indoors at the shower), but what would I wear for shoes? Please help.
-Ronja
Where I took my brand-new hair color out for its debut: on a date night with Kendrick to watch the sun set in a local park, followed by sushi at our favorite spot in Dobbs Ferry.
This, by the way, is what photographers are talking about when they refer to “the golden hour” or “the magic hour” – it’s that moment when the sun is just over the horizon and casts a soft, reddish light that’s more flattering for…well, virtually everything. It enhances landscape colors, diffuses the light hitting the face (which eliminates those harsh shadows created by direct sunlight), and makes everything it hits seem to glow.
What I've discovered over the years during which we've been visiting Kendrick's family in Ohio is that an eight-hour car ride followed by several days of sitting by fireplaces eating things and drinking things presents you with an excellent opportunity to wear the clothing equivalent of pajamas: your very favoritest, most comfortable stuff. Over and over again, if you want to, because no one's keeping tabs on whether you changed out of the shirt you were wearing yesterday (or maybe just slept in it and wore it again, ssh).
In other words: some serious vacation-wear.
And in my world, serious vacation-wear means those same distressed jeans that are apparently glued to my person these days, that same plaid shirt that you've been seeing me wear for a good five years now (talk about a good buy; I think it was like twelve bucks at H&M), and duck boots. Because duck boots are THE BEST (and these are extra-the best, because they're also affordable and ridiculous-comfortable).
Friday night was epic and meandering. And so for this post, I shall meander epically. To be thematic, you know.
OK, so whenever Francesca is in town I move earth and sea in order to find a way to hang out with her for real - not the way I usually hang out, which is by going somewhere for a drink and then panicking that it's SO LATE (meaning 7 P.M.), because I am old like a tortoise and exhausted. No, I mean hanging out like we used to: sitting in bars and talking for hours and laughing until we cry and then getting pizza afterwards because we've got nowhere else to be.
Friday night Kendrick and Indy stayed at home and I took Goldie into the city to hang with my mom so Francesca and I could go out like we haven't gone out in years. (Or…well, we went out like this in L.A. a couple of years ago, but I ended up clinging to the DJ booth like it was a life preserver because I was too tired to stand up anymore, and the night ended with the DJ actually telling me that I really needed to let go because I looked so weird, so this night was arguably more successful. Except I fell. In a gutter. We'll talk about that in a moment.)
First: the fact that I am, at the age of 33, once again attending school dances is both super weird and extremely fun.
For Kendrick's Winter Formal Masquerade I had all these grand plans of floor-length ball gowns (and I do happen to own one - for no apparent reason, as my life does not typically involve outings to places where ball gowns are required) and sculpted waves and…I don't know, I thought I was really going to go over-the-top fancy, because I never get to go over-the-top fancy and that sounded like it'd be fun.
And then I realized that what's missing in my life lately is a little partying. Like, old-school put-on-a-sexy-dress-and-high-heels-and-stay-out-late partying. I don't want to swan around eating canapés; I just wanna dance. And so I decided to dial down the formality and go with a dress that I could move around in, a hairdo that looked messed-up to start with (so a little extra tousling courtesy of a Pitbull song wouldn't be a big deal), and one hell of a mask.
