Chevron City

Blazer and pumps, Banana Republic. Skirt, vintage.

As I may have previously boasted, I snagged this chevron rainbow skirt for only five dollars. If you think that's impressive, check this out: a dandy from Bill Cunningham New York made a jacket out of his sofa, and pants out of his ottoman. I can't compete with that! But I reserve the right to laugh uncontrollably during that scene on a flight to Toronto (Air Canada has some sweet selections under Avant-garde). If you haven't seen it yet, you're missing out on some classic ottoman humor.  

We Can Do It!

Shirt, J.Crew. Shorts, Banana Republic. Scarf, H&M. Belt, Joe Fresh. Sandals, Nine West.

For the past few days, I have been busy planning and packing for a trip, which means my posts may become scarcer in July. One of the cities I'll be visiting is London and would love some recommendations of non-touristy sights. Anyone? Bueller... Seriously, though, I know quite a few bloggers are British, so don't hold out on me, mkay?   

Easy Peasy

Jacket, Talbots. Skirt, Banana Republic. Flats, Geox.

I should probably feel like a bad blogger for posting an outfit consisting of three simple pieces and merely two colors, but that's all my brain could manage last night. It is also why I'm not on Twitter yet - I can't handle little thoughts here and there, because I can't guarantee a steady supply. Sometimes, there's just nothing going on upstairs or as my mother used to joke (after knocking on my noggin): "It's hollow."

Without A Net

Dress, Club Monaco. Cardigan, J.Crew. Belt, Eddie Bauer. Wellies, Hunter.

Last night, Miss Arnold and I played badminton without a net, in a squash court at night. And since it is such a well-mannered sport, we came up with a laundry list of polite curse words to use when the birdie is not cooperating. Highlights included: Arnold Palmer, Montauk, and Tête de Moine. Although I got a bad case of "badminton shoulder," I'm looking forward to our next match - the perfect excuse to exercise my creative cursing.

How Much?

Blouse, Banana Republic. Skirt, J.Crew. Belt, Joe Fresh. Flats, Ralph Lauren.

The temperatures are rising and so are my hemlines. As much as I'd love to be a modest lady year-round (are you proud of me, Ma?), my legs become little hussies come June (not my fault, Ma). I guess it's all fun and games until someone drives by and asks you "How much?".

Justice in Miniature

"Art" on Kitsilano Beach.

The sun I was complaining about last Wednesday has been nowhere in sight this weekend, so I've been catching up on my reading. Have you seen these tiny crime stories? They are delightful, hilarious, and addictive (luckily, there's a new one every weekday).  

Death By Catnap

 

Dress, J.Crew. Sunglasses, Winners. Belt, Banana Republic. Sandals, Nine West. 

I've been unknowingly tanning at home. Although I gingerly apply SPF 65 on the beach, I seem to forget that my windows face west and that cat naps in the sun aren't as healthy as they are delightful. Years from now, when my dermatologist recommends that I get some moles removed, I will take the news surprisingly well - never underestimate the power of being well-rested. And if worse comes to worst, at least my epitaph will read "Death by catnap." How many people can say that?