It's Fall and I'm in love!

...with this leather jacket + bootie combination. 

 Every day is better when I look down and this is my footwear situation.
These {booties} are the greatest thing ever. Seriously, though. EVER.

Guys, it's officially FALL! I know the first day of fall was supposedly a while ago, but today is one of the the first days there are gathered leaves on the ground, it's a beautiful Chicago October, and I'm starting fall today. So obviously I just want to crawl inside the pages of Vogue and make myself at home in a Dolce & Gabbana campaign/fairytale-worthy brocades/fursandfursandfurs with a pile of doughnuts, a latte, a million pumpkin flavored things, and wear leopard print hair calf booties everyday. Because that's how everybody feels about fall. Right? Amiright??!!

I've got the booties bit down. Fursandfursandfurs, forthcoming?

I spent September distracted by the various fashion weeks' street style Instagram happenings, lavender tea, the existence of Nerds Ropes (LIFE = CHANGED), celebrating our first anniversary at work, and moving through the following stages of mourning (summer).

1. Panicking because the polar vortex is imminent.

2. Shopping for things that will make the polar vortex more bearable, such as shiny pants (oh waxed skinnies, you da best!), colorful everything, and fuzzy slippers. Or this... I really want this.

3. Preparing for the colder months by justifying the purchase of ALL of the booties, furry things, a taxidermy purse (that's another post to come...), winter boots, cozy sheepskin rugs, and piles of every Thai noodle thing. 

4. Soaking up every last warm night outside and eating way too much Halloween candy (looking at you, peanut butter Snickers, you irresistible little bastards), and wine.

5. Painting my apartment bright ass colors because HOLY GRAY WINTER, CHICAGO.

6. Getting over it because yay October/ fall fashion/ spaghetti squash/ apples/ pumpkins/ sweater weather. TIME FOR CHRISTMAS SHOPPING.

I am incredibly excited for October! It helps that the weather here in Chicago is bright and clear, and I'm super pumped because M. has agreed to dress up for Halloween this year. THIS IS A BIG DEAL, PEOPLE.

          

          

The Best Leather Jacket 

Favorite Jeans

New Favorite $10 Tee (TALL GIRLS! THIS!)

 I want to celebrate by wearing all of the lizard & leopard things and frolicking through cornfields and Maine woods. I am celebrating by getting back to the bench and making some jewelry (the best way to spend any day). Nothing more rejuvenating to the soul than sitting down and sawing and firing some metal (to emerge covered in a delicious coat of silver dust, wax, and polishing filth, with a new creation that I hopefully did not melt and can maybe bear to part with but probably not because all of the rings should be my rings...)! Sound gross? You should totally try it. Spa day for the spirit. 

Also, sometimes you end up with a necklace like this one (which is hiding somewhere beneath my jacket in these photos ^^^):

I'm obsessed, I think I need to make more of these. Antlers FTW!

These are the most comfortable shoes. I'm in love with them. I am tempted to buy another pair so that, should they perish in some tragic future, I could spare myself the turmoil of  bereavement and slip into pair #2 unfazed. I just want to curl up with them next to a warm fire-- a couple mugs of hot (spiked) apple cider at hand and a stupid amount of "Don't Trust the Bitch in Apartment 23" on Netflix. 

I'm excited to see what October brings, and to wear these shoes pretty much every day until salt and snow show up... Then I'll just wear them inside. 

Happy October, chickens!

Xo,

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 

Mint is the new everything.

Random cut-offs I made... Like these
Cami
Sandals with Wings
Bobbi Brown Art Stick -- Harlow Red

People close to me will tell you that I am crazysauce for Mint green. From its pale sage beginnings to its seafoam heights, the spectrum is one of my very favorites. I'm all up in that spectrum. ALL up in it. I wore mint to not one, but two proms. I've been nursing a pair of mint Cindy Says kitten heels for like 10 years (BRING 'EM BACK!) that are starting to lose very relevant parts of their bodies. I consider it a neutral. Like denim. Or leopard. Or gold. And also I guess black.

I'm even marinating on the idea of a mint wedding gown. Gown or not, I'm sure the wedding will be mint-y. M. approves.

Maybe that's the reason I've always been so taken with the city of New Orleans? There is a mint detail in just about every corner. I'm totally on board. I love.

Walls...

Courtyards...

Facades...

Even the Fiats were mint :)

Doors...

The ceiling of Cathedral - Basilica St. Louis...

Details...

Ornate Entryways...

***

Let me come clean, for a minute: I am a sunglasses addict. I feel that the sellers of beautiful eyewear should have a hotline posted on every wall (...like those plastered about at the casino my grandparents like to take me to, sometimes, just for a quick go after breakfast on a Tuesday. For the record, my grandparents are the coolest people ever. Inarguably.). "If you suspect that you may have a problem, please call..."

But... I probably would not call. That's no fun. Then I'd have to get into it with the shoe problem, the entomology fascination, the soul-stirring book thing, et cetera. Not to mention jewelry. Who has the time?

Have you ever searched for an item, and found yourself on a personal fashion odyssey? Since I was a kid, I've thumbed through vintage images like these...

Hello, delicious glasses. Let's be friends. 

I'm into it. Even the wacky, unibrow flamingo thing glasses on the left.
I don't get it, but I still approve. 

...and fallen deeply in love with (the currently super trendy, which, awesome, because yay for options) cateye sunnie.

Noteworthy: I was always super into the idea of wearing poodle skirts as a kiddo, too. I watched Grease a lot.

Also, John Travolta's hair. 

Last week, in New Orleans, I stumbled upon an adorable boutique in the French Quarter (with equally adorable, helpful, and totally unpretentious sales associates, which is how ALL sales folk should be, just saying...) called Hemline (apparently there are a few in the South, but we Yanks are sorely missing their existence).  I was in search of my current fashion white whale (a whole different animal, and a blog post to come, involving the GREATEST BOOTIES EVER), having nearly forgotten about my longing for mint cateyes altogether. For the moment, at least. The lovely Laura greeted me with a bright smile, we talked NOLA fashion a bit, and then OH MY GOD there they were.

Krewe Monroe Glasses in Matte Seafoam

So this is all well and good, but now I am in love with these, too. THANKS A LOT, KREWE.

Here is the literal play by play:
I'm standing in the corner of this store, browsing adorable tops which I felt way too summer-gross to try on, and then all of a sudden the roof was torn away by some sort of otherworldly beings, which proceeded to shine a light upon a small display of glinting, angular objects. And I'm sure there was music playing, and the original cast of Brigadoon was wrapping the showroom in a soft serenade of "Till There Was You." And then I saw them. BAM. That is almost definitely the way it went down.

OH HAI GREATEST SUNGLASSES EVER!

I love them. I love them. I love them!

Also, they are designed in New Orleans (by Krewe). And they are (I am told...?) made in New Orleans. And locally inspired and manufactured ANYTHING is my complete and utter JAM.

Does it make sense to wear them at work? I might. And then I'll just tell all of my clients that I have to, because the diamonds are blinding me.

(I work with the jewelries.)

So, I put them on, and could not leave the store without them, and there ya go. One white whale down, one to go (I will find you, booties!). Who am I kidding. There are like... 700 to go. But, hey, "One day at a time," my lovely mother always says.

Then, as M. and I explored the city that day, I got all hammy for the cammy. (Yes. I really just said that... I know.)

Loving the fact that my shirt isn't touching me, and my glasses are the bees knees. 

Really into my shoes, at this moment. 

Working my corner, bahahaha... Dear God I love this city. 

Delirious and hot and acting a fool. 

Sometimes you find that one little something, be it a pair of shoes or a perfect whiskey or a painting, and it makes the puzzle of life feel a bit more properly put together. And even though that one little something is just a thing at its bones, it means worlds within worlds within a box/a bottle/a vision to you. That's what counts. No shame in chasing something that makes you feel like Ryan Gosling is at the finish line.

There is always a thrill in the chase... But, oh, what you find in the catch! :)

Hugs and Kisses and Minty Fresh Goodness.

-Ash