Bookish Vibes

One of the most noteworthy perks of falling for a bookworm would have to be the conditional libraries. Think about it. A true bookworm would not live without a library of some variety. Be it a few shelves beneath their bedside table, or an expansive room with bookshelves that stretch from your toes to the ceiling. No kindles, kobos, or iPads storing electronic copies of their literary loves, but whole walls filled with stories waiting to be read. That's how it should be.

Freshome: 

OCD + bookworm = meant to be.

La Boheme

This is a spot where I would invite three wealthy architects over and have them debate the significance of the bookshelf a whole foot above the others. 

To Read and To Hold:

This is a spot where I would sing to my plants and expect them to sing back. And then take out my frustration on the looming canvas in front of me when they don't. 

Books, Words, and Authors: 

Ah. This. This is a spot where I would transform into a kitty cat and bask in the sunlight to my heart's content.

Bookshelf Porn:

This. This is a spot where I would play the blues on my harmonica and annoy all my neighbours. 

Flickr:

This. This is a spot where I would have to wear my prom dress whilst reading Tolstoy and having multiple revelations. Perhaps dance down the hallway with my butler as well. 

Rue Mag:

This. This is a spot where my math essay would just write itself. 

Modern Man: 

This. This is a spot where I would feel as though the world was able to be controlled with my mind. John Nash would probably join me and we would draw things on the window together (he wouldn't be doing all the work, I swear).

I feel as though I should share with you all my newest taste of sophistication in my life. By day he's a business man, but by night, he transforms into a biker with a need for speed. I fell for him immediately. Oh, his name? Such a fool you are, it's a coat. I personify all my clothing obviously. 

How glad am I not to be wearing my puffy parka built for Antarctica and cannot be worn with brown pants otherwise I am the human tree? SO GLAD. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. 

Have a vunderbar Sunday evening (so cultured, I know). 

*m

Summer Bikini Temptations

I remember the first time I fell in love with a swimsuit. It was the summer of '05 and I was in Positano, Italy with le famileh. The sun was setting and the waves were just callin' my name so I pranced on outside with my two younger brothers giggling and dancing behind me and frolicked in the Italian waves for hours (I don't know about you, but I come from a family of cupids clearly). And what else would I be in other than a swimsuit? Well, a wetsuit, yes, or maybe my birthday suit, but both of those options would be bizarre. Why would you even suggest them. I happened to be in a one-piece cherry red and sailor navy blue striped suit, and I felt so European and stylish.

The second time I fell in love with a swimsuit was in the summer of '09 when I was going on a boating trip with a friend. I managed to transform into a swan every time I went swimming because of the most delicate and dainty bikini I had ever laid eyes on. It was a ruffly, milky white bandeau top and simple white bottoms. I truly felt like this (Ryan Gosling not included, unfortunately).

And here I am, Spring (Winter?) of '13, falling in love with a bikini all over again.

Meet the Australian line, Rittenhouse, all jazzed up for summer.

Would ya look at this?! So whimsical, I adore it.

I've always been tempted by one pieces, and this one maintains that little bit of youthfulness with the tied string back. Quite charming, isn't it?

I feel as though you have to have a certain element of sass with this. It's so minimalist, yet daring.

And here's a few clothing pieces I have been flirting with the idea of.

Like these pants. How bohemian.

Currently, I'm hanging out in the executive class lounge in the airport. My ticket randomly upgraded, and I wasn't about to complain, guys. This place is awesome. I'll be walking out buddy buddy with a few of the wealthy business suit clad men any minute now, and be discreetly stuffing my pockets with as many of these croissants as possible.

*m

Breakfast, We Have Good Times

Banana oat pancakes this morning and if I do say so myself, they were made perfectly. My mother was pleasantly surprised when I made them for her. Please note the bb pancakes. Gotta thank My Little Celebration for the recipe. She is a real life wizard. Also, let's be honest, her photos are far superior (damn you, iPhone).

And then this, below, is a scrumptious crepe made with buckwheat flour, or in my brother's lingo, dirt flour. Don't let that fool you, it was delicious.

Beautiful instagram photo by my dear friend. It was a good morning.

Okay, let's see better lookin' food below. I'm warning you. The pictures I'm about to show you are little vixens of salty or sweet goodness... but, hey, it's the personality that matters, right! I can assure you my cooking is just bursting with personality and ambition and wit (why I decided to turn my cooking into some sort of eligible suitor is beyond me, it's morning, forgive me). 

Check my tumblr for credits. 

Cheerio, chaps. Enjoy your Saturday.

*m

The Issue of Sleepover Attire

 If you have ever organized a night dedicated to girlish giggles and (not-so) scandalous secrets, otherwise known as a sleepover, the pajamas you throw on every night are no longer a matter of comfort. As much as we would like our friends to believe that we wake up with bouncing curls in our hair, perfected eyebrows, and shimmering eyelids, that illusion is about to shatter to pieces when you emerge from the bathroom in a three year old summer camp t-shirt, and a pair of sweats that are appearing more like shrunken bell bottoms everyday. So what realistic options do you have? Are you doomed to a broken social life after a single sleepover? No, no, no. Don’t think like that. Consider your choices.

1. Silk, baby-blue lingerie with fuzzy faux-fur slippers.
Oh, you vixen, you! There are two perks to this choice. One, you’re a real-life dream come true to all the men who still believe that sleepovers consist of pillow fights in nighties, rather than three sobbing girls reciting the lines of the Notebook together. Two, you may be able to convince your friends that the reason you’re nonchalantly wearing lingerie to a sleepover is quite simply because of the endless number of occasions in your life that call for such attire. I mean, look outside, your suitors are lined up around the block.

2. A classic, cow-print onesie.

Any other print will do, really. The beauty of onesies is that they don’t sacrifice comfort at all. In fact, they kind of define comfort. You’re covered head to toe in a blanket and can technically call it a pair of pajamas. Praise the onesie!

 I should warn you though. Onesies do not bode well in the heat. What, it’s still hilarious? No. Resist. Nothing is more painful than facing the sweaty reality that the stench intruding the room is thanks to your piggy onesie. Irony at its finest.

3. Matching sets!

Ah, the matching pajama sets. It’s what your mother forced you to wear until you got your first concert t-shirt, and subsequently rebelled against her fascist wardrobe demands to sleep in the much preferred Avril Lavigne shirt instead. I just hope you didn’t make the mistake of wearing a tie over your t-shirt too (Avril-swag failed miserably for me).

Despite the bad rep matching sets had when you were younger, let’s get over our angst and admit it – that shit was comfortable. It’s usually some ridiculously soft material, while covered in a rather cheerful or humorous print. My personal favourite is covered in cupcakes and as nauseating as I may look to the average sleepover attendee, nothing can penetrate my bubble of happiness.

4. Your birthday suit!

If all else fails, you can go nude. Minimalist, understated, elegant. Also you will really freak out your guests and might get your spot on the couch back.

*m

Deer Scouts

Oh, little deer friends on each side of a collar. Could there be any more en"deer"ing collars? I haven't made that pun before. I've come across a lot of collars that are just too agressive to wear. Let's be honest, it's a collar. A collar is associated with little puppies, isn't it? At least that's how I like to imagine them. I don't feel particularly in the mood, ever, to wear leather collars with studs and/or statement bullets lacing the edges. But das just me.

Camp fire scarf! Please, please, please. I used to be a brownie so that I could wear those adorable pink shirts, I deserve this. 

Courtesy of Book of Deer, most charming online shopfront I've come across in a while.

*m

Total & Utter Randomness

Check out my updated tumblr theme. Finally found one that, like, totally speaks to me, you know?

Playlists I've been enjoying for getting in the mood (to study).

Also.

The majority of my free time has been spent on Pinterest. 

Or tumblr.

*m