Revelation and Revolution

I’m writing this on a gray and rainy day. It's safe to say that fall is here. I was ready for cool, rainy days where I could make tea and settle in with a good book, but now that they’re here, I’m having second thoughts.

These days I’m seeking joy in the little things- favorite places in the city, listening to Purple Rain on vinyl, and fancy shoes on a weekday just because. With the shift from fall to winter and the familiar replaced by uncertainty, I think it's important for everyone to find little joys and bright spots.  


I’m not suggesting we ignore everything happening around us or walk around in a “good vibes only” state of toxic positivity. I’m suggesting that finding joy and celebrating little things is keeping some of your power when many of us feel helpless—a revolution of one to disrupt the status quo.

Vive la révolution

Living In the After

These photos were taken two weeks ago. And what a year these two weeks have been. It now feels ridiculous to post these photos on my silly little blog where I document outfits that I wear and why I wear them.

I remember the first few days after my mom died. I felt like there had been a seismic shift in my reality. With one phone call, everything I thought I knew to be true vanished. My life went from 4k technicolor to black and white.

And then, it happened again last week when ‌it was clear he would win another term. The sun, the lightness that I felt a few weeks ago when my daughter took these photos, was gone. Everything I thought about the world we live in- good triumphing over evil, that more people want to discover and delight in our similarities than fear monger about the ways in which we are different, and that most of us want to turn the page and get back to normalcy- vanished.

I woke up the day after the 2016 election hurt.

I woke up on Nov 6, 2024, angry. We are now entering their version of this country with eyes fully open. People looked at everything that happened under his term, the civil case that found him liable for rape, the 30 plus felony convictions, the impeachments, the racism, the outright disgust for immigrants, the transphobia and said “yep! more of that!”

I worry for my sons and daughters. I worry for my trans and LBGTQIA friends and family. I worry about the world my grandchildren will inherit. I worry that history is repeating itself.

There are no more dog whistles. They are using blow horns. They are not saying the quiet part out loud, they are shouting it in the streets through bull horns.

It feels like the loss of a parent all over again.

And, no one is coming to save us. There is no one to slay the monsters hiding in the closet. No one is rushing into our rooms in the middle of the night to tell us this is all a bad dream.

I haven’t even started to process things. I’m living in a self-imposed bubble without news, social media, and doom-scrolling. Perhaps I’m attempting to hold on to a little of “before” because I’m unprepared for life in the after.

There is very little I’m sure of these days. The other day in a state of despair and uselessness, I pulled an oracle card. It said “Your existence is the resistance”. So, I’m going to hold onto that truth while I figure out what comes next.

 





Worn|| She's Overboard and Self-Assured

Confession time.

I was never the grungy, edgy teen with heavy eyeliner and a fuck the establishment attitude. I was much more United Colors of Benetton, Polo popped collar kind of girl who attempted to charm authority. 

Now that I’ve hit 50, aka the land my ‘give a fucks’ went to die, the brooding, angsty in me has been dying to express herself.

That’s the beauty of middle age…the power to reinvent yourself and not a single worry given to what anyone has to say about it. Quoting the wise Sheree Whitfield, "Who gon' check me, boo?"

Because I never had a pair of Doc Martins as a teen, I decided I needed a pair or something similar. I stumbled on this pair in near-perfect condition and in my size for $10 during a recent trip to the thrift store. The rest of the outfit seemed obvious. Nothing says “smells like teen spirit” like fishnets and combat boots.  

boots: similar shorts: similar shirt: similar tights: here

Chapter 51...

Half a century plus 1. I’m not sure I like how it sounds when written out that way. Last year was a milestone birthday. I had a party. I got to celebrate with the people I adore most in this world. The dress I wore was amazing, it made me feel like a cupcake and look like a million bucks.

I set the bar pretty high for this year’s birthday and if I’m being honest, it’s just not hittin the same way. But it’s nothing a dress, a pair of heels, and a slice of birthday cake can’t fix.

Here’s to another rotation around the sun, to embracing the person you’ve worked so hard to be, to loving yourself as much as you love everyone else in your life, to growing old with the person who gets you, to impractical shoes, cupcake dresses, funfetti birthday cake, and prosecco!

Cheers!

Worn|| This Ain't Texas

Imagine being gifted a musical tour de force like Cowboy Carter and being so caught up in your expectations of who and what country music is supposed to be that you deny yourself a sublime listening experience. Couldn’t be me …

I’m not saying that Cowboy Carter has become my entire personality but when you see me out in cutoffs and cowboy boots don’t say I didn’t warn you!

And, We're Back...

Oh, hey! Long time no blog. I wondered if I'd ever fire this thing up again and despite the push towards short-form video content nothing grabs me like words on a page (or screen) and photos. I'm old-fashioned that way. 

Not much has changed in my life since my last post. I haven't been busy. Life isn't too challenging right now. There haven't been any unexpected plot twists. I've just been trying to stay present. Enjoying the moments as they happen. That small shift has been great for my mental health.




Anyway, here I am. A girl. Standing in front of a brick wall. Asking you to read this blog post and follow along as I attempt to navigate this new season of life.  




Worn || Ready or Not

I’m a week away from my 50th birthday and I have so many feelings about it; very few are good. I desperately want to be one of those people who celebrate their birthdays for the entire month but I can’t remember ever being happy about getting older.

Not to get all “therapy” speak, but I’m certain it’s because I rarely give myself permission to exist and enjoy the present. I’m either punishing myself for the past or anxiously trying to micromanage the future.

My goal for the week is to live in this moment. Enjoy the person I am right now. appreciating the life I have is so much more than I ever imagined it could be. 50 is on the horizon, ready or not.

dress here || bag here || shoes here || jacket vintage\thrifted || necklace here

Worn || Gingham Style

August is a weird month. Many people are focused on getting themselves or their kids ready to return to school, so there’s always a little hope that comes with fresh starts and new school supplies.

I have an August birthday and this month has always been about endings. The end of another trip around the sun. The end of those long sun-drenched days filled with possibility. So long summer romance. Goodbye to my golden summer tan.

I’m going to do everything I can to hold on to the last few glorious days of summer, embrace the sweetness of August and reflect on my last few weeks as a fortysomething.

Worn || Hi Barbie!

Saturday my daughter treated me to a movie. We got dressed up in our pink to see the Barbie movie. The movie and afternoon out with one of my girls were an unexpected delight.

There have been a million think pieces written about this movie. I don’t know if I have anything more to add to the conversation. It was funnier than I thought it would be while being unexpectedly deep. The final scene between Barbie and the creator of Barbie, Ruth Handler (played by the brilliant Rhea Perlman) is the one that made me sob and leave the theater with a tear-streaked face. It was beautifully shot. The set design was fantastic. The wardrobe department hit it out of the park. And, I didn’t think I could love Ryan Gossling more, then I saw him crying shirtless in a faux mink coat and a sweatband. The choreographed Kens dance/fight scene is worth the price of the ticket alone! Seriously, get all dolled up in your version of Barbie and go see it. Then grab a Barbie drink after to discuss how amazing it was.

Starbucks Vanilla Frappucino with Dragon Fruit

Find the skirt here ||the dress(worn as tank) here || the bag here

Similar shoes here || jacket here

Loss and Living

If you follow me on any of my other platforms you know that my father passed away on May 23. Once again, life has served up a full plate of sadness, disbelief, grief, and anger…anyone who’s lost someone they love deeply knows what I’m talking about.

Loss changes you. Everything, every interaction is now viewed through the lens of it. The world keeps spinning and all you want to do is press pause. How can I be expected to be me when my heart has two giant parent-shaped holes in it? Daddy’s girl suddenly without him.

I have a loving husband, great kids, and an amazing group of friends, but something about being a parentless child makes the ground beneath me feel unsteady. Typically, I would spend the day with him on Wednesdays because I don’t have my grandson that day. There hasn’t been a Wednesday since he’s been gone that I haven’t found myself getting ready to visit only to realize that he’s gone making the pain of the loss fresh again.

My dad liked to say, “Life is for the living”, a phrase that confused me as a kid. Now, I understand it. That understanding comes tinged with sadness because what it really means is that you have to let go. You cannot stay blanketed in grief making your life a shrine to that pain. We only get this one life, and my dad would want me to live it.

Here I am Daddy, trying to figure all of this out without you.

Joseph R. Garr June 5, 1930- May 23, 2023

“Say not in grief ‘he is no more’ but in thankfulness that he was.”

– Hebrew Proverb