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My Looks

The New Feminine

CeCe by Cynthia Steffe at Macy's

CeCe Blouse

I am not “girly.” With a handful of exceptions, I tend not to choose pieces with floral patterns, with ruffles, with bows. My closet overflows with denim and grey. I think the last time I wore a headband was for my first-grade class photo (it was maroon velvet and actually pretty amazing, now that I think about it).

But just because I’m not especially girly doesn’t mean I don’t like to feel feminine. And I’ve rarely felt more feminine – by which I mean elegant, and polished, and confident – than I did when I put on the outfit pictured here. I have to be honest: I wasn’t entirely sure I’d love it when I ordered it from Macy’s, simply because I’ve literally never worn anything like this. Illusion neckline? Flounce skirt? Peter Pan collar?!

Decor

4 Easy Home Spruce-Ups (That I Hadn’t Thought Of)

Totally lit a fire last night (and yes it is 65F in Cali but I couldn't wait) 


You know how most people (or, rather "most people on Pinterest"; not "most real people") do an annual spring cleaning? I always forget to do that because I'm so excited about actually doing spring-type things (like being outside as opposed to on my couch). Trying to get my house under control in preparation for the colder months simply makes more sense to me: winter - even in not-so-wintry California - is when we spend tons of time at home...so shouldn't we make that home as cozy and pleasant-to-be-in as possible?

Lifestyle

Move Over, Kids

Me and my milk and my emails, 7AM

With two kids in the house, there is a lot of milk that gets consumed on a daily basis. And in our house, it’s even more than you’d expect, because my five-year-old and my two-year-old aren’t the only ones interested in the stuff. (Just to be clear, they're primarily interested when it's located next to cookies or on top of fluorescent cereal puffs, in case you were under the impression that I was raising Health Angels. I'm not.)

Not infrequently, I’ve had a houseguest comment on my habit of waking up, walking directly to the refrigerator, and pouring a massive glass of (super-cold) milk. “Jordan?” they ask. “Are you...what are you doing?”

Lifestyle

OOTD


Alright, so it turns out I love Instagram Stories. When it first came out (about thirty seconds after I finally swallowed my pride and joined Snapchat) I had no idea whether I'd ever actually use the thing. Or, if I did, how I'd use it any differently from Snapchat, aside from the fact that on Snapchat I could look like a nervous deer if I wanted to.

DIARY

Bright Spot

Supergirl on a Sunday morning.

This weekend was rough. I'm aware that the general consensus is "we took a few days off to be upset; now it's time to toughen up and get moving," and I agree with that sentiment for the most part (at least the "toughen up and get moving" part), but these past couple of days weren't any easier than the ones that came before it. Graffiti ("TRUMP!") popped up on my quiet little street for the first time since I've lived here. This happened. I drove my children to the park on Sunday afternoon, and a few minutes before we got there my son asked to hear a new song, so I decided to play Hallelujah for him - in retrospect, an absolutely catastrophic song choice, and one that resulted in me having to try to explain to my children why sometimes songs make us cry.

But something else happened this weekend, and it meant so much to me that despite the fact that I'm aware that only very close relatives (might) consider a five-year-old's piano recital Must-See TV, I'm going to post it here anyway. You guys have been with me since the day this kid was born, and...I don't know, I just wanted to share this with you. It's a pretty beautiful thing, watching children turn into the people they will be in the future.

Eat

Soul Food

Soup never solved anyone's problems, but sometimes it can help. This is the meal I make when I need the food equivalent of a hug, so I'm making it tonight, and eating it under a blanket, my phone and computer turned off and something Disney on the TV.

Lifestyle

Action Plan

Here we are again. So let's do this, again. 

OK, never mind. I said I was going to return to the regular RG programming, but I can't. Not yet. There's too much panic and fear and sadness out there; too many people who feel helpless, like the world is crumbling beneath them. A few minutes ago, I left a meeting with my local school district that I'd requested to discuss what exactly is going on with the crippling under-funding and what the community can do to help, and left feeling despondent about the state of education in America, and how much worse it's going to get as the economy plummets. I sat down on a wall to wait for my ride home, and clicked over to Facebook only to find a post titled "Farewell America." I read it with tears pouring down my face.

Because what that post said was that we have reached the end of the American experiment. That America as we have known it is gone, and that nothing will ever be the same.

DIARY

From Here, Where?

See that, way out there? That's the future. And it's still female.

I'm not sure how to move on from what happened on Tuesday. As a person, I'm not sure of the best way to apply myself to this "fighting back" thing we're all talking about. I'm not even sure how to sleep again. As a writer, I have no idea how to return to my regular schedule of cute shoes and funny parenting stories, or how to sit down today and start moving through to a to-do list that includes such imperatives as "start compiling holiday gift guide," and "post flat-lay to IG."

When you awaken to find yourself in a strange and terrifying new world, how do you just stand up and start walking again? I wish I knew. But I'm pretty sure that the answer is "you just do, because you have to." And because doing nothing is never an option, and is even less of one now.

DIARY

The Sun Rose Today

The world changed, alright. Just not how any of us had expected.

I wasn't going to post today. And then, around 10PM last night - when it was clear what was happening, but before the election was officially called - I turned off the TV and got into the bath. I took a Star Magazine with me because I couldn't bear to think about anything other than Brad Pitt's marital woes, and for the first time I actually understood why that kind of blunt-force entertainment is so addictive: it gives us the chance to fall down a rabbit hole of celebrity breakups and makeups and the cutest boots to buy this season, and when we're in that rabbit hole we can pretend for a moment that the real world doesn't even exist.

Like many of you, I need a minute to absorb what just happened, and to try to wrap my mind around what this means for the future of the country - not to mention the future for minorities, for women, for the LGBTQ population, for our children, and for thinking, feeling human beings across America and far beyond.

Lifestyle

Links & Love & Stuff

Just added to the glam | camp Holiday Shop: the coolest sustainable amber bamboo boxes. They're technically jewelry boxes, but I like the idea of using them as hiding places for your secret favorite things. (Mine is currently holding Sugar Babies and Xanax.) (Oh shush, I'm totally kidding. I don't even like Sugar Babies.)

 Trump just got booed at his own polling place (via The Verve.)

 Now THIS is how you #adult. Oh man, I am going to miss him. (Obama Calms Supporters When Trump Protestor Appears, via CNN.)


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