Whirlin’ Twirlin’ Girlin’


I got it! I found the Free People Mix Print Tunic and I scooped it up!


We have had so much fun together!


I realize that this oversized tunic is not for everyone. But, man, it can really move!


I wore this all day. Usually I get home and immediately get into jammies. This was so comfortable, I kept it on.


We took a walk together.


It was incredible that such a piece could lift my spirits so much!


Do you like oversized pieces? I feel oddly more feminine in them. Like I am a girl playing dress up. They make me feel more dainty. How about you?


*This post was edited using the app Afterlife’s Captain Filter.

Stripe Club

“The first rule of Stripe Club.

Never talk about Stripe Club.”

Still wanting more? Okay. I’ll play.

“Why do I wear stripes?”

“Because I don’t want to be spotted!” Joke courtesy of my daughter. Yep. There are two of us.

I have a thing for stripes. A serious problem. An addiction if you will. They are everywhere in my house. Mostly grey and white, but you can find other colors, too. I’m not picky.

I own about a zillion navy and white striped shirts. ‘Cause that’s not crazy.

I realized the other day that some of my photos of clothes recently contained stripes, so I decided to clump them together into one post.

Mostly so I could use the word clump.


With a gift card from Christmas firmly in hand, I used some of it towards the Savant Dress at Anthropologie. I foolishly purchased the small instead of the medium. But I stubbornly refused to exchange it.

Foolish and stubborn. That should have been the title of my post. Or the name on my birth certificate.

I paired it with my Paige Cords from Nordstrom Rack (of all of my cords, these are still the best). The necklace is the Heirloom Necklace sold awhile back from Anthropologie in the bee motif right after New Year’s.


And I really like the patches on the elbows.


Did I mention that I love the patches on the elbows?


Okay. This is getting embarrassing.



Quick, what’s this song lyric from? “The best time to wear a striped sweater is all the time.”

This outfit started with my striped sweater recently purchased from Target. The cords are AG Stevies in turquoise. The necklace was care of Simply Livly on Etsy.

This outfit is innocent enough.

But wait for it…



More stripes. Stripes on stripes! This outfit makes me smile. It just shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t happen. But it did. And I like it. The cardigan/pullover is from Target as well.

Do you have a thing for stripes? What about stripes on stripes? What about stripes on stripes on stripes? Okay. I’ll stop now.

My Homage to Gwen Via Grey & Pink

When I saw Gwen of London Preppy sporting pink and grey together so swimmingly, I knew I had to try it. I literally tore through my closet and yanked anything I had in those two colors. Then I looked at my mess, got overwhelmed and shoved it all back. But the obsession was still in the back of my mind. As it always is with Gwen. I adore her. : )


In the meantime, the Citizens of Humanity Avedon Velvet Leggings got discounted 68% (I received the additional 25% that is no longer going on). I had been stalking them for months in the antique pink color. I quickly used my last gift card on them and the MiH Casablanca petite flares. I ordered my typical size 29. I usually size down to a 28 in leggings and stretchy pants, but based on the other reviews I stuck with my usual size and I am glad I did.

The top left picture in the foursome is from the Anthropologie website. The pants seems to take on both hues.

Anyway, I love them. I could serenade them all day on this blog, but that is not what this post is about. However, I do want to mention that they are the best pants I bought this season in case you are on the fence.



So, I paired them with my grey Puckered Placket Turtleneck I scored last year for $20. And my Ruffled Sweater Vest (I told you I wear this all of the time). Then I topped it off with some tiny fox earrings from H & M. And my Faye Boots from Christmas.

I feel so thirty-six in this outfit. You know. My age. Except for the whimsical earrings, this outfit does not feel like me. But I love it. Isn’t great to have more than one personality?



Then I had an idea for my Chiara Chemise. Why not pair it with some pink tights? Hmmm. Why not? Eh? Why not? I still can’t hear you. Let me turn down my thighs.

The Pom Pom Necklace is from Fable And Lore on Etsy.



Is there time for one more? I scooped up these grey Pilcro Ankle Zip Cords when they went half off and then another 25%. So I believe they were $37. I have one pink top in my closet (previously worn here). I did not know how it would look together, but I figured I would try it.

I wasn’t sure. So, I plopped my black Ruffle Sweater Vest over it. Ahhhh. Much better.

Thank you again Gwen for the outfit inspiration! Keep ’em coming. I need all of the help I can get over here!

Have you paired pink and grey together? What is your favorite color combo to wear? I need ideas!

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

Shapeshifter Me


Call it a rant. Call it me opening up. Venting. Just sharing what it feels like to have a dramatic weight loss. I can only hope by me being completely 100% open, it helps one person today. Because you are all beautiful. And we, each one of us, struggles with something. I recognize that there are those of you struggling right now with a diet. I know. It is hard. And I have been there. Will always be there. Each and every day. Struggling.

I know there are people out there that see past the scale when it comes to measuring a person’s worth. My husband is one of those individuals. And for that, I love him. And for so much more, I love him.

If you are one of those rare individuals who do not see a number when looking at a person, I thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

Here it is. The unedited me:

After years of being heavy, I was quite used to being ignored by people. It sucks. It’s sad that weight matters to so many people. But it does. I can tell you from experience that it does. And some people are not nice about it either.

There were good things about being heavy. I learned to blend in. I could quietly observe. Quietly judge (this being my own flawed characteristic and obviously not a characteristic of all heavy people. Thank God).

And, oh, was I good at judging.

The very best, you see. Bad habit. The worst. Trying to quit. Is there a patch for that?

But, I digress.

I could go to the supermarket and no one would speak to me. I would walk down the street and not one head would turn and not one eye would blink. Let alone wink.

And it was peaceful.

And I never even noticed it was happening. Or not happening.

But then I lost weight. And I was exactly the same person. But for some odd reason, people treated me as an entirely new one.

And it sucked.

Nobody warns you this will happen. The crappy part of weight loss.

The inevitable conversations. The putting down of the old you.

The, “You look SOOOOOO much better.”

“Wow! I didn’t even recognize you!”

“I wish I had your discipline. I’m so fat.” And I want to shake them. And hug them. And tell them I think they are beautiful. Because I do. Because weight is not important to me. And I don’t know what to say. Because all I did was lose weight. That’s it, folks. It did not make me Leader Of The Skinny Body Crusade.

I want them to realize that it’s me. It’s still me. The girl without the discipline. The same flawed girl. Who struggles every single day. Who has the same damn problems as them. Who absolutely does not have all of the answers. Sometimes. None. At. All. Who might judge. But who would never judge someone’s weight. Or what they eat. And I hate that looking at my new body makes some people question their own. And feel bad. And feel like they have to explain their bodies to me. I have a conversation like this one at least once a week. And it makes me want to track down the true Leader Of The Skinny Body Crusade…and do some serious judging on that misguided soul.

“What does your husband think?”

The askers of this question are my favorite, because they almost always answer their own question with, “I bet he thinks he got a whole new wife!”

And then they stand there waiting for an answer to the answer they have just given themselves.

Men are obsessed with this question and answer game. I just stand there blinking. And I imagine they are the Leader Of The Skinny Body Crusade if they also add, “Lucky him!” Or in one case when a man actually said to my husband, in front of me, “I guess you’ll keep her now.” Oh, that poor leader. The things I do to him in my head. “Lucky” would not be quite the word I use to describe those things.

The crazy part is, I was happy being heavy. This seems to be such a foreign concept to people that I mostly keep it to myself.

And chuckle.

Okay. Not happy. There are a lot of bad things that go along with being heavy. And I suffered all of them. And I was not happy about it. In fact, I was pretty miserable.

I hated not being able to wear the clothes I wanted to wear.

I hated the unhealthy aspects that went along with the extra weight.

I hated that I did not fit into society’s box of “beautiful.” And then I wondered who built that damn box? Was it that leader again? Boy has he been busy. Or was it all of us?

I hated the way people treated me. That is what depressed me. And made me doubt myself. And become the judgier judgiest judge of others.

But the way I looked? Nope. Never bothered me. Or more correctly put would be to say, I was comfortable in my own skin. I always have been. No matter how much skin I have at the time.

So, I lost the weight. I get to share all of the fun new clothes I get to wear. It is fun. And it is exciting. And I love it. And I am happy. And I am comfortable in my own skin.



What makes me uncomfortable is not knowing how to behave as a “skinny” person.

Not understanding why this body gets more attention than the old one.

Why people are nicer. It boggles my mind. But it is true.

I hate that.

I do not know how to react to people. There is a whole new language to learn. A different social understanding to reach. And skinny people? They have been in the club for years. There is no room for a rookie. Or time to teach the dialect and actions of the average waist. I have always been a terrible learner. Especially when the material is the width of your belly and the textbooks are the mere letter on the tag of your shirt.

I find myself lost in translation.


Not knowing where I fit in.

It’s just a body. We all have one. I have just taken on many forms with mine.

I guess I am a real-life shapeshifter.

I have been able to sneak my way into scenarios that only half of the world ever gets to experience at one time. And I have lived both halves. In both scenarios. In this world. In one life.

And I can report skinny is not always better.

Of course, being heavy isn’t either.

Why does it have to be such a strong division? Why does one way of life have to be different from the other? Who decided that our girth would be our worth?

I yearn to take a backseat. To not have random men try to hug me. Or randomly strike up conversations with me. Then I wouldn’t misinterpret what they’re saying. I sometimes feel like an alien that has landed on this planet. Everything is so different on the side of skinny.

And it shouldn’t be.

I feel like I don’t belong anywhere.

There are no words to describe the puzzlement I feel at each encounter where I am treated differently because my pants’ size shrank.

No measurement to equate the mass of my soul.

I know I will never comprehend the language of the folks who speak with weighted tongues. Who seem to view the form of your body as a misguided representation of the form of your soul. Who place so much value on how little there is of you that they don’t see how much bigger they could be. In their hearts.

So I might be lighter.

But I’m heavier, too.

What body language do you speak?

Me, myself?:

“All of them.

And none at all.”