Native Beauty

I've been lusting after a carved Turquoise eagle chest piece, an awe-inspiring squash blossom necklace, glorious rings, and every single killer Native cuff out there for... well, forever. Native American jewelry has always been my jam. Recently, while shopping for a pair of uber-toasty mukluks (because shut up winter, my circulation just gives up between the months of December and March and I need a whole sheep on each foot...), I came across an article about a Chickasaw designer by the name of Kristen Dorsey.

And may I just say, holy shit.

Tallon Earrings
Sapphires + Quartz + Rose Gold = YUM.

I'm a sucker for interesting lines and unusual combinations, and the textures and adventurous spirit of her designs wooed me on the spot. Wooed me.

Obviously, I'm going to be needing one of these:

Sky Serpent Cuff
Clearly this has magic powers. 

Oh hey, Christmas! You're not so far away! (Ahem, fiance... I's just sayin'.)


I would basically promise my first-born to Rumpelstiltskin to be friends with this:

Stingray and Larimar Breastplate

Unbelievable.

And frankly, I can't go much longer without owning this guy:

Foshi Pendant
Okay, so I have a thing for birds, but this is my favorite. How do you manage to make two-headed animals beautiful, miss thing?!

But alas, this beauty is sold out. One day.

Why wear any other pendant when you could be wearing a two-headed bird pendant, guys?! I may or may not have a jar of dollah dollah bills devoted to the acquisition of this bad boy. (WHY AREN'T YOU FREE, WEDDING? GO AWAY, PRIORITIES. FOSHI 4 LYFE!)

Black Diamond Barnacle Necklace

Ms. Dorsey weaves some delicious magic with her jewels. She is a storyteller with an impressive connection to her roots, one that spills into her pieces: fluid, light, and cosmic. There is a stirring fierceness in her collections, along with her choice of stones, that balances itself expertly against the pieces' unmistakably feminine and fashion-friendly aesthetic. Anyone that can marry stingray, sky serpents, diamonds, and avant garde badassery as she does without sacrificing elegance deserves ALL of the applause for being rad as fuck.

Woodpecker Bracelet

Also, TWO-HEADED BIRD jewelry. There is nothing that is not awesome about that.

I'm off to have that dream where I'm running through a field of flowers wearing a million Foshi necklaces. This may or may not be an actual dream I had.

Much love,

Ash.

Blanche Devereaux made me do it.

Dress that is awesome for wearing while eating everything all day, unless you're messy.
Wander-the-whole-city-comfy Booties.
Clutch that is actually big enough to put shit in.

Some days, you just wake up feeling called to channel your inner Golden Girl. Everybody's been there, right? Maybe?

Some days, the force of Blanche Devereaux is strong with you. And then this is what happens (my favorite day of my week in New Orleans):

You put on something acid-washed, and your hair finds an unusual amount of volume to draw from, and maybe it's just the Southern humidity, but probably it's the fictional ghost of Blanche Devereaux posessing your tresses...

She wore it better, obviously. 

You pick out the brightest, most harlot-y lip color you happen to have in your make-up bag at the moment, because it compliments acid-washed everything quite nicely, and of course a Devereaux girl couldn't go out with some ungodly Northern pallor (my face is made of ungodly Northern pallor, but a gal does what she can)...

You find the biggest earrings your head can support and rock them all day...

You get a little wild...

"Dahlin', I'm very concerned you're not quite sure what wild means..."

You get a little weird...

I met this guy at the Aquarium, later, and I don't know what the hell he is. But this creature is alive. THIS THING IS ALIVE. 

And you get a little dramatic...

You find the most fabulous old man kickin' to stand by your side, who will almost definitely follow you to Florida post haste...

How could I not take a picture with this man? Look at his damn shirt! Also, I'm pretty sure he only thought I was a little bit creepy.

Just kidding, he was super nice. Yay flamingos.

You spend the day living-- really living-- and doing whatever the hell your heart desires, because Blanche is just not the kind of woman to take a backseat to life...

Didn't we all?

And then you go back to that heart, because beneath the bright pantsuits, ginormo-glam clip-on earrings, and ooze of old people sexuality, that's what Blanche is. All heart.

Rue McClanahan before the Golden years of Blanche... Could she have been more adorable?

***

Lately, every time I reach for a lipcolor, or choose a color for manicure when I'm in for a no-chip (at this place, which is the best place, and I totally fucking love them), I am caught in the possibility that there is, perhaps, an elderly Floridian making these decisions for me. In the beauty-ish sector, I can't seem to be satisfied with anything but day-glo colors and super '80s palettes. It is very possible that in the near future, my morning routine will send me out the door looking something like this:

I mean, ya know... If I'm feeling adventurous. At least I don't have to delve into the world of permanents, because by Jesus, I hear them chemicals just fry ya ends right up. So says Blanche.

Next time, maybe, my rendition of Sophia-- wig and glasses mandatory. I would say Rose, but... Betty White is the world's greatest human.

Stay Golden, chickens!

-Ash 

Royal Jewels

I have had the feeling of a phantom ring on my finger for a little over a week. My engagement ring, as I trotted off to New Orleans, stayed behind for a little TLC (with the most amazing bench jeweler around). I wore another in its place, but every time I looked down at my finger I got a little sad. It just wasn't exciting enough. I'm obnoxiously, stupidly, helplessly, annoyingly in love with my engagement ring. It is like my pointy, sparkly, really old child. Now you know. 

And today... I got it back! Hallelu!!! 

Just totally fucking rad. M. did the best job ever. Reunited and it feeeeels sooo gooooood!           

I get lost staring into this thing. 

Aaaaand very fitting, because today is vintage wedding dress shopping day! Yeehaw. 

Sidenote: So far wedding dress shopping has made me want to turn all bridezilla and throw tiaras or whatever. It's a strangely uncomfortable thing to have people try to liquor you up with champagne and force all kinds of fussy, scratchy, sometimes terrifying garments over your head. Standing in my skivvies, bridal attendant pawing at me and getting zippers caught in my hair because everything gets caught in my damn hair, feeling weirdly vulnerable and totally not into it... That was my first bridal gown outing. And it blew hard. It was more like being cornered in a bar by the one really pushy drunk dude who is sure he can convince you you just don't know that you really do want to be dragged, caveman-like, back to his douche-pad... Today-- today will be different. Today I'm buzzing for no reason at all. End rant.

Anyway, when I was down in the good ole Big Easy (which is hands-down my favorite jewelry shopping city, because there's nothing like seeing the fantabulous estate pieces fallen from the tree of Old Southern Money... Plus OMG flea markets...), I found myself pining a bit for what felt like my missing finger. And I happened upon Royal St...

And then upon rows and rows of storefronts like this one...

ALL OF YOU! COME HOME WITH ME!

And then upon the most unique vintage ring I've seen in years (besides, of course, my kite-shaped lover)...

I have freakishly long ET fingers, and this is one of those pieces of jewelry that makes them seem totally necessary. By this logic, this ring should stay on my finger like, I dunno... permanently.I've never seen anything quite like it.

Art Deco Platinum ring with old mine cut center Diamond (1.10 ct, G/H, SI) with the cutest little culet, Emerald pears, and calibre cut Sapphires. I kept this on my finger for what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time for pretty much everyone involved. It was great.

I also got to play with this mutha trucka...

Sweet mother of God, there is just no way to depict how stunning this guy is in person. So, just go to New Orleans, and go to here.

Art Deco Platinum Diamond and Sapphire stunnah, 3.75 cttw.

And then THIS happened:

150 carats of antique cut diamonds in rich 22k Gold, from the magical land of (antique) Fred Leighton. This actually made my heart flutter. Probably because it's haunted by some freaking royal ass ghosts. Because, come on. COME ON. You're killin' me, Smalls...

Photos just can't touch this one. 

Thanks for letting me come and play dress up, fine folks at Valobra! Made my day. 

But hey, if (you are crazy and) don't like looking at stunning pieces of wearable art history, you want to see some seriously unique (and not in the price range of above life-changing bib of diamonds) jewels, or you just really fucking love flea markets like I do... To the French Market with you! 

I bought this Bone & Agate bangle at the market, once upon a time in another life. It's one of my very favorite pieces in my jewelry collection. Also, it's kinda heavy, so it's the perfect accessory to wear if you're out wandering through alleys alone at night. If you're into that kind of thing.
You do you. 

When I lived in NOLA, I found every excuse that I could to whoops suddenly end up strolling the booths of awesomeness at the end of the French Market. 

How to get there: 

1. Eat a beignet.

2. Buy some frozen booze-to-go.

3. Follow the smell of Alligator on a stick (which is mouthgasmic).

4. Roll on through. 

Or, I dunno, ask a local. I'm sure there are other routes.  

This time around, I picked up this ginormous Lapis Lazuli cuff (...which makes me feel like I could get into some Xena, Warrior Princess shit. Or be on Game of Thrones, which I have never actually seen an episode of, but their costume pros must have the greatest job.) --

Yeah, really looks like it's about to bust out some secret powers. It's kind of distracting-- really hard not to just stare at it like a goon while it's on my arm. Also, prices in the market are amazeballs. Go there. Said market is also the reason there is currently an Alligator head on my mantel.

Having returned home now, from my vintage wedding dress adventure, I am SUPER FUCKING EXCITED. Not only did the awesome gal who helped me not rush me for a second or make me feel like a freaking loose meat sandwich at a white trash garden party, I FOUND MY DRESSSSSSSS! I cried like a little bitch. It was beautiful. I could not be more thrilled about it. Vintage for the win!

Now, I can't wait to pick out my jewels! 

Keep on sparklin', chickens. 

-Ash