Lemonade

It's been rainy here in Chicago, meteorologists have been totally off their game (I know, I know, climate change is wacky, but I NEED YOU TO HELP ME DRESS MYSELF TOM SKILLING), and I've been struggling to deal with the fact that winter is eventually coming back to Chicago. Polar Vortex flashbacks... WHY GOD WHY.

I spent a couple of days feeling super blue about it. I always have a bit of heartache at the end of the summer season (not that it's really gone, yet)-- it's that little creeping feeling of the fun coming to an end. But really, we make our own fun, don't we? Seasons change, and especially here in Chicago, winter is going to happen (I am coming to terms with this by getting excited about furry thangs and boots, I fucking love boots. All of the boots.). So a couple of mornings ago I got up, and when I looked out the window into the gray haze/ tail of summer, I decided to make some fucking lemonade. 

This necklace is one of my favorite things (so is my back porch, and this antique oriental rug...). Instantly dresses up anything. I've worn it out dancing in Vegas, with a grey tee and jeans, to a black tie wedding, and...

When I met the monkey from The Hangover a few years back. He was really into it.
This necklace is from a zillion years ago... but this one is its beautiful bastard child. And, it's on sale through Labor Day!

I embraced my lemons. If I'm going to be a little tart about things, I might as we'll be bright fucking yellow as well... Don't ya think? I think. And the citrus bit has been one of my favorite trends this summer, after all. I love anything in fashion that demands you check your pretension at the door. Check it. 

I can't not smile when I'm wearing these! I am pocket-obsessed, too, which these are awesome for. I love when I CAN ACTUALLY PUT MY HANDS INTO POCKETS. None of this decorative coin pocket bullshit. REAL, hand-worthy pockets. It just seems to make the world turn more smoothly, you know? Pockets are some powerful shit. 

A little citrus, a little sparkle, a couple of comments from strangers/clients/passersby re: how gawdy my necklace is (I prefer the term AWESOMESAUCE) and the smile my lemons put on their faces, and voila. Lemonade!

I like my lemonade three ways: sour, alcoholic, and metaphorical. 

Summer, I hate to see you leave... But when there's fruit on your ass, I love to watch you go. 

Happy summer's end, chickens!

Xx.

Ash

Brought To You By Stripes & Moccasins.

I adore summers in Chicago. The city becomes a sticky-sweet treasure trove of sidewalk dining, street fairs, and the always exciting mystery of what season it will feel like from day to day (currently: a balmy fall day in the high 60s). Not to mention the glorious beach-lined miles of lakefront, buying armfuls of Paletas from carts, and night walks through curtains of fireflies. Of course, the ever wonderful presence of bangin' humidity as well, which I totally do not mind. But it's nice once in a while, on cooler days like today, to be able to wear jeans and let my hair down without everything sticking to me everywhere. So, I did, and:
1. Found low-key sidewalk eatery
2. Enjoyed a disgusting amount of chickpea salad and Ace pear     
    cider (Cannot eat gluten. I'm living on the edge, friends.)
3. Settled in for a couple rounds of drinks with my dude 
4. Stole all of his french fries

I love you, summer!

Rope Tee & Favorite Sunnies

This is me, falling over.

Rockstar Jeans

Sass.

Akemi in Japan Bangle

Because MOCCASINS ARE THE ONLY THING 

when I've hurt my ankle running... Knock it off, limbs!

Awesome Neutral Bag & Minnetonka Moccasins

It's fantastic to live in a place where we can walk a short distance, beside lines of trees made incredibly green by this rainy July, and end up with our happy asses at a seriously relaxing sidewalk cafe. My fiance and I-- feet up, cocktails at hand, stuffing our faces beneath the Maple growing up through the center of our table. 

Even more brilliant, while walking home-- the chanting of Buddhists, the soulful voices of a church choir flooding through chapel windows, backyard chickens, a gazillion lightning bugs, car windows down/music turned up, a million more incredibly tempting eateries and watering holes (THERE IS ALWAYS ROOM FOR A SUNDAE, MARGIE, YOU TRICK... TOO FULL, HURTS SO GOOD), the one lady in my neighborhood who is always out there hula-hooping (rock it out, girrrrl), neon murals, eight thousand wild rabbits, way-too-personal conversations falling down to the pavement from open apartment windows... And people, just relaxing, just letting themselves be in love with summer in this city, even if they're cursing its winters under their breath.

Happy Summer, Chickens!

XO,

Ash