Seventies Vibes

Although neither my curly hair or curvy bod has ever really been in compliance with the decade’s aesthetic, I have had a life-long love affair with both the music and the style of the 1970s. Perhaps it was the bellbottoms’ comeback during my childhood or the cultural takeover of the flatiron. Either way, the natural, easy-breezy vibes of the seventies are as sweet and enduring as a Carly Simon song.

I tend toward the preppy when I dress, but I took my center-parted Farah Fawcett hair and my flares out to the grocery store to get ingredients to make a lasagna (exciting stuff, I know. I’m too sick to do anything fun). Enjoy my RBF (resting bitch face). Also—I put on a few pounds on vacation from all of my fiancé’s aunt’s amazing Portuguese cooking…can you tell?

IMG_8619 IMG_8620 IMG_8621 IMG_8618*moccasins/Minnetonka, jeans/Banana Republic, top/Loft, bag/Kelsi Dagger BK

Old School Js Like Beyoncé’s Fiancé

Friday, I’m in love…with Etsy. I had seen this post on Pinterest which made me long for a Feyoncé shirt to call my own. Luckily, I located this shop that hooked me up with a great tank (it is July, after all).

Fiancé shirt, boyfriend jeans.
Fiancé shirt, boyfriend jeans.


The following photo, which was something of an outtake is the only one in which you can see my fakey-fake ring that I’ve been wearing to numb the pain of my real one not being back from the jeweler.

Mani is Essie's Lilacism. I want to write a love song to this nail polish.
Mani is Essie’s Lilacism. I want to write a love song to this nail polish.

The fake ring is kind of a wacky story. As a kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house. She and I are pretty close. One day, snooping through her jewelry box, I found this ring and snagged it, thinking it was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I kept it for years, through various moves, truly thinking it was my grandmother’s engagement ring, deeply ashamed of having swiped it. My old job was located next to a jeweler—they tested the ring to discover that the diamond was a fake but the gold was real (although low-quality and not worth much). I developed theories about the ring. Was she given a fake? Was it a replica of her ring from the sixties? How did this fake engagement ring find its way into the back of a tiny drawer in my grandmother’s jewelry box?

When I finally got engaged for real, I went to tell the news to my grandmother. I decided it was a good time to come clean about my thievery at least a decade prior. Instead of being mad, she thought it was hilarious—apparently the ring had been my aunt’s…and no one had known that it wasn’t real! Drama! My aunt has been divorced for probably nearly 20 years, so it’s water under the bridge, but it’s still fascinating that this little bizarre artifact found its way into my hands. My grandmother laughed again and told my mother, “Imagine if she’d made off with a real diamond!” It was kind of a cute family moment.

My actual engagement ring is my mother’s from the nineties. We’re having the diamond reset into the ring (it was removed to be weighed & graded), and having the ring dipped by some sort of magic/alchemy to be white gold instead of yellow. It’s a marquise cut with tiny chip diamonds along the sides—my totally unique dream ring. But for now, I’ve got my fakey to help everything feel real.

In any case, thanks, Etsy, for making my engagement dreams come true, Mom, for saving her ring to pass down to me, and Grandma/Aunt Michelle for helping keep me sane while I wait for my ring for another week.

top/Etsy Tees Store, jeans/Banana Republic, cluth/Rebecca Minkoff, shoes/Seychelles
top/Etsy Tees Store, jeans/Banana Republic, cluth/Rebecca Minkoff, shoes/Seychelles

Life-Swap

I took a few half-days at work this month so that I could take a night class. I have just enough time in between to drive home, eat lunch, and change before heading back out on the road.

IMG_7689 IMG_7690

As I’ve previously mentioned, my dress code at work (which I must admit is pretty permissive compared to other dress codes I’ve had to observe) is primarily black, so on “school days” I do a mid-day outfit switch so that my pasty skin can soak up some Vitamin D. I’m for-reals medically deficient, so it’s been a balancing act between getting adequate sun exposure and practicing “safe sun.” And playing in the sun is a lot more fun than swallowing the bright green horse-pill supplement that I have to take.

So grateful to have a big wooden porch this summer.
So grateful to have a big wooden porch this summer.

I noticed a funny thing when I looked at these photos this evening. Both my work-appropriate outfit and my life outfit today featured Madewell & Keds. Where’s my endorsement deal, universe? I could totally be a spokeswoman for tiny adorable sneakers. I’m almost 5’8″, so flats and sneaks are more of a way of life than a fashion choice. #tallgirlproblems, right?

The rest of my evening will be spent finishing off last night’s Vinho Verde, watching Orange Is The New Black instead of working on my research, and then eventually capitulating to my education, making an irresponsible cup of night coffee, and sucking it up. Schoolwork can be tedious, but that minor annoyance is exponentially exacerbated by procrastination, something at which I excel. Here’s hoping I get inspired by the feminist muses to thoughtfully analyze elegiac poetry!

I'm not really sure what my mouth is doing here, but when your curl game is strong, you gotta to document that shit.
I’m not really sure what my mouth is doing here, but when your curl game is strong, you gotta to document that shit.

top/Madewell, shorts/Banana Republic, shoes/Keds, bag/Kelsi Dagger BK, sunnies/vintage (aka the ones I wear in every picture), earrings/Kate Spade