Vintage Green Love


I have been holding out on you.


That sounds worse than it is. You see, I just assume that after I write a story, you have read it and will know what I mean even before I have published it here. But there are so many stories I need to publish and maybe then I will be understood… Or not.


Same with my closet. I think that you must know what lurks in the depths of it. But how could you? When I, myself, often overlook things.


Like this dress.


I bought it at the beginning of the year. Felt bad about buying it. Stashed it in My Closet of Guilt and never wore it.

As one does.


But I came upon it last week and fell in love.

It is a vintage dress purchased from Etsy. I love shopping for vintage clothes on Etsy. There are a plethora of beautiful pieces. With so many different sellers, the prices vary, so it is a good idea to look around. I cannot believe the prices some sellers ask for both low and high. Check the seller’s feedback for reviews. Check their social media and Etsy home page to see if they are running any coupon codes. My dress was $64 and I thought this was fair.


It is the very best color. An odd shade of green that takes on different hues depending upon how the light hits it.

It has the most amazing embroidery of deep blues and bright pinks tickled through with tiny mirrors. Yes, tickled.

The bracelet is from World Market a few months ago (similar here). Have you been to World Market lately? They are killing it in the jewelry department.


I took these pictures at my dad’s house. I liked how the Juniper Tree matched my dress. My husband, the photographer, did not like the matching. He wished for more contrast.

I feel the same way about the model’s thighs.

You work with what you have.


The only thing I can remember about Juniper Trees growing up is that coyote feces is full of Juniper berries. And so I avoided any and all Juniper Trees as a child, positive that there were coyotes lurking beneath each and every one.

Speaking of coyotes, I am no longer afraid. Our cluster of homes sit upon the edge of our town. This means frequent coyote spottings as we venture out. Two days ago, it was pouring rain in California. My husband saw a soaking wet, miserable looking, coyote dart into the bushes in front of his car.

It was all that he spoke of that day. He said it was the saddest sight. The coyote looked thin and bewildered by its wet surroundings.

There are not very many Juniper Trees here.


Did you grow up around wild things? Do you own a vintage dress? Do you store it and not wear it or wear it all of the time? Do you know odd facts about animal feces? Or is that just me?

*I shared this on The Pleated Poppy and Reasons To Dress.

Plastic Bracelet Memories


When I was a little girl I rode the school bus home. The bus stopped and dropped off all of the children who lived in town before it made its way up the mountain to drop off us Mountain Kids. I am not sure if that was a resounding term that we all called ourselves, or if it was just me. Knowing me, probably the latter. But “Mountain Kids” was what I always referred to when speaking of the children who lived in the mountains where my family dwelled.

The bus ride sometimes took an hour and a half before it would ever reach the dusty dirt road that would lead to my house.

It was a long time for a child. The Mountain Kids would gather in the back of the bus as it made its slow twenty minute trek away from town.

The first kids to be dropped off would always be The Ranger Kids. They were a subdivision of The Mountain Kids. The bus social system was complex. There were many branches of Mountain Kids. I have not even gotten to the kids that dwelled at the top of the mountain near the prison and the campgrounds (two words that always go great together) or the kids who dwelled at the bottom of the rocky hills in the country club subdivision. I am not sure what my best friend and I were called. We lived in the middle of the two classifications. Perhaps “Bob’s Gap Kids” named after the skinny road that wound between two mountain ranges that both of the roads leading to our two homes forked off of? I never thought to ask. The Ranger Kids’ parents were forest rangers and they all lived together in a circle of homes.

One of The Ranger Kids was a handsome boy of about nine years old to my six. His name was Stephen and not only was he older but he also had the dreamiest brown hair that would sweep into his eyes. He was tall and lanky and towered over the rest of us children.

He was an entrepreneur.


Stephen would craft plastic bracelets at home and then sell them on the bus for a dollar a piece. The jewelry was constructed of shiny plastic beads strewn onto an elastic band. They would glimmer in the sun with their brilliance. I wanted a bracelet beyond anything, but I never found myself with any money to purchase one. It is a tragic happenstance of being six years old. One of the few cons in a neglected pool of positives.

I watched daily as Stephen’s jewelry supply would dwindle.

I am not going to lie. It was panic inducing.

So, I did what any self respecting child of six who had a crush on a child of nine would do. I begged. I pleaded. I sniffled. I moaned.

“Please. Please, Stephen. Please can I have a bracelet? Just one. Just that clear one right there. Plee-e-e-e-assssssse.

“Oh! And I love you.” That always works, right?

And every day I would watch Stephen get off of the bus with his bag of sparkling sensations while I held my sad bare wrist.

One day while we were all seated in the back of the bus and it had begun its long journey through the winding roads that would lead to The Forest Station, Stephen did something unexpected.

Before I could begin pleading my case for one of his creations, Stephen scooped the clear plastic bracelet out of his bag and placed it in my hand.

I could. Not. Believe. It.

It felt perfectly weighted on my small wrist.

It was amazing.

It was at that moment that I was convinced that Stephen loved me, too.

At the age of six, I had no words to express my gratitude, so I can imagine I stared at him like a cartoon kitten with eyes too wide to blink.

Stephen exited the bus swiftly, probably immediately regretting his generous decision as I waved frantically to my love from the window.

The next day I wore my bracelet and I excitedly waited for my soulmate the bus after school.

Stephen did not show up.

This was repeated daily for a week before it became common knowledge that Stephen’s family had been transferred to another ranger station. I never saw him again.

I lost the bracelet soon after, but the generous and innocent gesture of a sweet boy who did a kindness towards a much younger girl stayed with me to this day.


I found a similar bracelet recently. It was more than a dollar. But not by much. I guess inflation never reached the beaded bracelet industry. It was a good thing that Stephen got out of the business when he did.

When I wear my new bracelet I think of us Mountain Kids formed together in a common bond of weary time travel. I think of twisting roads and tall trees. Of a bag of similar but entirely different bracelets. And I think of how one small act can shape one’s entire future.

I wear my shiny bauble and I smile.

This time I know what I would say to Stephen. And it would be simple.

“Thank you.”

I would say those two words and I would hope they would convey more than gratitude for a simple piece of jewelry. I hope they would impart the appreciation from one child to another for teaching me that a selfless act of kindness can leave a mark that lasts a lifetime…

Coupled with a small obsession for shiny things.

Vintage Kantha Ensemble


Two years ago, Anthropologie came out with a dress made from vintage Kantha fabric.

At the time I had just lost sixty pounds (I would go on to lose more) and I had very little clothing that fit me. It felt like a miracle to find this dress that seemed like it came from my dreams.


The dresses were by my favorite designer, Vineet Bahl.


Each one was different and unique as they were made from vintage fabric.


I paired the Vintage Kantha Dress with these kantha clips I purchased this year from Free People. I love that they match the dress perfectly.


I own four of these dresses.


Yes. Four! Each one is more amazing than the next. The inside of each dress is done in a different vintage Kantha fabric. This one has a purple Kantha inside. I have been trying to figure out how to wear them inside out, too.


These dresses are my favorite pieces of clothing in my closet. If I had to choose one item to personify me, this would be it.


The coin necklace seemed like a good fit on this day (similar here).

Look at that detail on the dress.

I just love it so much.


I cannot wait to share the rest of my Kantha dresses. They are so special to me. I own them in orange (shown here), pink, maroon, and green. I would buy more if they were available.

I bought mine on a discount. The maroon one was a steal. But, regardless of price, they are the pieces of clothing in my closet I would save in the event of a fire (after family, pets, documents and art, of course).

What one item in your closet personifies you? How long have you had it? Do you own more than one?

The Beekeeper’s Daughter


I don’t really know what a beekeeper’s daughter looks like in a picture formed in one’s head. Is there a crown of bees involved? Is there a white jumpsuit? A veil?

Well, whichever it is I am sure I do not usually look the part.

Except today.

Today I went full out with the theme.

But hopefully not in an over-the-top way.


I just really love this Modcloth Twofer Honey Dress. I waited for this to hit sale and was ecstatic when it did.


I decided to pair it with some booties. Close-toed shoes are a must in Imaginary Bee Land.


The honeycomb crochet on this top is just really neat. I love the yellow color paired with the grey. I think it looks modernly bohemian. The complaints about this dress were the sides stick out underneath your arms. This does not bother me at all. I do not walk around with my arms above my head, but I wanted to show you what the reviews meant. You can see it in this picture.


These honeycomb earrings are also from Modcloth. I own a very similar pair from Anthropologie last year. The two pairs of earrings are different because one has a slightly larger honeycomb weave than the other.

This is not important.


Do you know I have only been stung twice by a bee? I find this kind of miraculous having grown up surrounded by them. It just proves that they really are peaceful creatures. That, and the fact that honeybees die when they sting you. : (

You should see my dad with a honeybee. It is like watching a bee whisperer. He lets them crawl on his huge rough hands and soothes them with his voice. Sometimes he will bring them to his mouth (don’t do this!) and breathe hot air on them if they are too cold to fly. It is amazing and something I never tire of seeing.


This bee wrap bracelet is the coolest. I purchased mine for $10 from Nordstrom Rack a few months ago and I cannot find a similar one online. My grandma used to collect bee jewelry and ever since she passed away, I have felt a need to continue her tradition.

I also made waves in my hair using a wave iron I purchased last week (more on this soon. I do not want to link to it until I am absolutely sure I will recommend it. So far I love it, but I want to play with it some more to be certain). I used to wear waves in my hair all of the time a few years ago and then I lost my wave iron and my hair remained wave free for too long.


In Imaginary Bee Land, beekeeper’s daughters always have wavy hair.

It is a fact.

Trust me.

I know.

I invented the place.

Do you ever make a theme for your clothes? Have a story in your head for a particular outfit? Please tell me I am not the only one.

P.S. * I shared this on The Pleated Poppy!

*This post contains affiliate links. Purchasing an item from a link on this post will result in more fodder for Imaginary Bee Land a small commission for this site.