rolling out of bed into a tub

If there are two things that can make any grey day into a day of unrequited peace, it’s a bubble bath and a nap/doze on a big, comfy bed. You just can’t go wrong with either.

Now some folks scoff at the idea of putting a tub in a bedroom, and I think it’s just because they think we’re ignoring the separation of bathrooms and bedrooms all together. No, no. That is not the case. All we are doing is taking your portal to escape reality in (aka the bath) into your bedroom. Who could have a problem with that? Suddenly you’re given so many more reminders to treat yourself on a daily basis.

And now that I think about, why the heck are we putting toilets next to baths anyway? Who came up with the idea of having a bath and a toilet squished into one room? Baths are meant for peaceful meditation. Toilets, on the other hand, cannot be made into anything escapist or peaceful. Let’s face it – they’re just pits of water that you do your business in.

Anyway, in preparation for my future dream house, I’ve found a variety of ways to mix a bath into your bedroom below, so here are a few spots that really have this dreamy, introspective, rolling-out-of-bed-into-a-tub vibe figured out.

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remodelista – great examples!//unknown//pinterest//house and home//freestanding tub inspiration //pinterest

Today, the city is covered in a thick blanket of ew-go-away fog. Sticking to that trend, I have another ew-go-away paper to tackle all day, too. At least my life’s consistent.

Rather than losing myself in the depths of New Girl episodes to shake off the bleh of today, I have a bath pouring with lavender salts and bubbles. I’m hoping to fire up my inner Ayn Rand today, so that I can emerge from the bath with a severely critical eye and the ability to write a lot of words on words on words.

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invite me over: Sherlock meets Waldo

 

To some, having a desk at the end of their bed might look like a pair of handcuffs. And I totally get that. We all want to wake up and pretend, just for a brief, glorious moment in time, that our lives really do just consist of solo coffee dates, lengthy bubble baths, and perhaps, if we’re feeling particularly motivated, matinee movies.

But if we must work, then we must do what we love (or so everybody likes to muse as though they’re telling you this information for the first time). And the fella that lives here? He’s an art expert, world traveller, and interior designer. Meet Rodman Primack. Or meet the man that leads the life we all wish we had.

Below, a peak at his enviably cultured apartment in NYC, courtesy of Architectural Digest.

Yes, we’ve seen that gnome before… this week’s Wednesday Feast was teasing you and you didn’t even know it. 😉

It’s hard to put your finger on just where in the world his style is coming from. I see Spain, Morocco, France, Belgium, even the otherworldly (I’m looking at you, gnome boy). Yet everything comes together with such clarity. His galleries are a masterfully curated example of this, featuring each corner of the world all at the same time so that we witness one fantastical scene of cultural diversity.

Primack’s playfulness with proportions seems to come naturally to him, too. Where we might expect smaller accents of color, we see paintings, plants, and light fixtures dominating the scene, unabashedly testing our limits.

The result, of course, is an apartment that sacrifices our expectations for relentlessly eclectic fun. Sherlock-meets-Waldo kind of fun. And what’s more fun than that combo?

Hope everyone had a lovely Easter weekend! Does anyone have any family/solo traditions for celebration? I’m really curious because sometimes they’re straight up hilarious/ I would like to live vicariously through you. For the past three years, Easter has been something of a semi-sweet occasion for me. On the one hand, I have the whole house to myself as my roomies flee to their respective homes, and on the other, I just think about how awesome it would be to have my seat back at home, a huge chicken and mashed potatoes filling my plate as my eyes grow four times their normal size in anticipation of eating.

Regardless, everyone seems particularly chipper during Easter weekend. Tulips, pastel colors, maybe the appearance of sun dresses if the weather permits – Easter really just doubles as one big celebration of spring, baby!

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a little tour

chezadriennetitle Everybody has that friend who defies all previously held notions of “effortlessly cool.” You know, the one who wakes up in the morning, picks out any of the perfectly classic numbers hanging in her closet and spends a little under five minutes preparing her face for the world. Everything just clicks. They just seem to get things.  For me, that friend is Adrienne, the bold-browed beauty smiling coyly below. We’ve been best friends going on a decade, which is half of my life thus far (winning at friendship, to put it bluntly), and she only embodies this stereotype more and more with each year. Should I be resentful? Hell, no, because she imparts her wisdom and unbridled inspiration on me every time I see her. This past weekend, though, my whole idea of my best friend just catapulted out of an ornate ceiling with stringed lights draped from an archway. In short, I visited her house and quickly died, went to the heaven reserved for vintage wares, crisp white walls, fireplaces-in-bedrooms, and historic architecture, and then came back to go for waffles. Her apartment almost brought tears to my eyes. So what kind of girl would I be if I didn’t share with you a home so perfect that I almost cried? Not an effortlessly cool one, let’s say that. chezadrienne

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An Etsy find from her sister, this clock was made out of recycled wood that has been stained and repurposed. This piece singlehandedly defines the room’s vibe for me. Hung just above a perfectly proper fireplace, Adrienne’s aesthetic of funky vibes mingling with opulence is the perfect greeting into her home.
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On asking why she chooses to have her (sweet n’ stylish) clothes on display: “It was originally something I bought out of necessity, but I ended up loving the way it brought colour and texture to the space; so much of what I gravitate toward is grey and boring, so having it all exposed forces me to have a little life in my room. It also makes what I own so visible – not just in the literal way – it makes me realize how much I have. It’s terrible how easily I can get caught up in feeling like I need to have new and trendy things (boo consumerism), but having it all on display is such a strong reminder not to be wasteful.”
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On what her favourite part of her room is: “I think my favourite part has to be the archway. As much as arches typically add ornate detail to a room, this one is actually pretty tacky and silly, and I love it. The original wood design was apparently so delicate that it just sort of fell apart with age, so the details were all redone in the 80s – hence the weird and silly retro spheres..”
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Galleries are so daunting to me, I don’t know why, mostly because I’m under the impression that you need real ART. Adrienne scored some vintage frames and record covers and suddenly I am rethinking my whole conception of what makes a “good” gallery. Personally, bringing in a level of intimacy and personality by displaying bits and pieces of your life – be it photos or album covers you’ve always had lying around – is much more interesting.
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“The vast majority of the items in the room are actually heirlooms and trinkets from the Granny, who passed away a few years ago. She was an incredible world traveller and collected a huge array of unique items over the years. When she died, she left all of them to my sister and I. We were all very close,and used to go over to her apartment and play dress-up with all of her costume jewels, or have fake tea parties with her ridiculously fancy silver and crystal tea sets (which I’m still not sure why she ever let us touch).”
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“The pearls, the tray, the lantern, and nearly all of the little things on the shelves belonged to her. I love having them around. It’s really comforting to come home and see little reminders of people you loved, especially in your own room. It really makes it feel like a sanctuary.”

IMG_8646 IMG_8614IMG_8641IMG_8650   Thank you, Adrienne, for letting me share your beautiful home with the world! It’s almost as cool as you are. (Yay, cheese!) Signing off, *m

gallery craving

My lack of a headboard may earn the badge of “Most Unnecessary Source of Minor Anxiety” but it’s still wreaking some serious inner turmoil. Every morning, I grab my cup o’ joe, settle in with some steaming oats, and open up Pinterest. This is where my eyes turn a subtle shade of green and my student-sized bank account starts to really grind my gears. (Do I hear an “amen”?) Every other gal in the world seems to be wearing crisp white boyfriend shirts and red lipstick, leaving their elegant stains on espresso cups at their local coffee shop, and curling into a bed with an elegantly distressed headboard behind them after a day of work. That last bit, that gets me. Because as a student, there are no funds left to squander on a headboard, no matter how dreamy it may be, and as a renter, I face limited options in putting up a fancy-shmancy art installation behind me. I am, however, on my way to curating a gallery in place of a headboard (even though I might be terrified of getting knocked out in the middle of the night thanks to only having “extra-strength” adhesive strips doing the job).

So, I’ve purchased some IKEA frames of various sizes, obviously intent on recreating some of Pinterest’s Scandi-cool scapes with framed minimalist quotes and red lipstick stains. But I also recently found a sweet assortment of vintage frames, each with knicks and scratches on the ornate wooden designs, and I’m now tempted to leave my IKEA frames under my bed permanently. (Shh.)

But here’s my biggest problem. I don’t have any flippin’ art to put in any of the flippin’ frames. Yeah, it’s a flippin’ problem. (Almost as big of a problem as my desire to say “flippin'”).

In the meantime, I’ve found a collection of galleries that I’m aspiring to. Maybe if I stare at them long enough, this will be the time when dreams come true. When all my wishes on so many stars, even an airplane or two, will just break through into a blissful reality.

Okay, getting some more coffee. Need a caffeine-induced reality check.

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This is what the collection of vintage frames I found look like. Swoon, baby, swoon!

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Look, ma! These are all my friends I made in university! Framed! They’re more fun when they have a drink in them.

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EGGS! Breaking out of the rigid frames is an excellent idea, actually.

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Chalky Creative Juices (Yummy, eh?)

You can just call the space above my bed a void. Regrettably, it holds the remnants of a DIY project that was unintentionally entirely unpractical. That’s kind of a mouthful, but the project was too. I hung stringed lights so that they made the silhouette of a frame. Boom, that’s magical. Then I tied three strings from each side to the other, and attached photos with paper clips to it. That’s where it went awry. Because every time I settled into bed, my pillows would destroy my masterpiece in one innocent “still-getting-comfortable” move.

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So remind me why I didn’t move into a classroom again? Well, because that’d be straight up depressing, obviously. But it does hold a very simple answer to not only changing up your bedroom as often as you please, and, if I got that nifty chalkboard “marker”, I get a semi-permanent headboard too.

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Isn’t this room so alive? It’s practically bursting through my screen. And, unlike my own whimsical dreams of a starrily lit headboard with dangling photos, the whimsical nature of these cupboards is still practical. It also saves you from ever needing to tell a friend or house guest (I guess the house guest isn’t your friend, in this case) from where that dang breakfast spoon is.

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I recognize that this is a menu, but golly jee willickers, it’s art to me. This should just be my headboard instead. And I wouldn’t say no to what they’re serving up either. (In fact, I’d ask for it immediately. Maybe command if I’m direly hungry.)

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So what we’re looking at here is but a simple collage, am I right? No! A gallery of inspiration, thanks to the elegant logo floating above. A collage can always be deemed a gallery when given a title.

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I never knew this either, but a chalk headboard can make your dreams come true, too. Want a little puppy to greet you in the morning? Draw one into your reality. Let’s just ignore the fact that it may be diagnosed with an unknown doggy disease given its distant eyes and disintegrating legs. Let’s move on from this morbidity. It’s a cute idea.

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And here, I present to you, a real gallery! Displayed on the walls of a Parisian apartment bedroom, we have a very minimalist gallery – although, I’d fill those frames in a second with some substance. Or at the very least a chalk-drawn doggy. 😉

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Gord Bond Exhibition at Hamilton’s Mulberry Street Coffee House (aka a coffee shop I can deem perfect in an instant).

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I sat down next to a rather colourful young man, with a pair of eyes that seemed to stare into my soul, or at least one side of my face. I was then asked to leave the coffee shop as I was engaging in an animated discussion with a painting.

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Gord Bond is the real creator of these fellas. He plays “God” to a whole clan of faces that perpetuate reflection on how we examine those around us – what we decide is perfect and, with that, what we decide is beautiful.

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I was entranced by them. And although not for their realism initially, I came to see these portraits as even more realistic as to how we interpret the world… because I don’t go up to the bus driver to pay for my ticket and see nothing but a face in perfect proportions. I see the greying hairs burrowed on top of his eyes, and maybe the lines stemming from his eyes. Or I greet the hostess of a local restaurant and focus on her perfectly arched eyebrows, as though they were painted on her face, and her full lips dramatized with the help of a cranberry hue in lipstick. So if I were to paint a portrait of either of these people, and if I were to paint proportionally as to what I focused on, the works of Gord Bond would mirror my own, in terms of style alone, to a precise degree. Magnified and shrunken characteristics, bold strokes glazing over the areas I didn’t linger over, and more detail given to the areas I did. The beauty of this work, however, is that no two portraits would be the same given our own differing interpretations of our imperfect world around us. What ends up on my canvas could be entirely different than yours’, and that’s why I was so entranced with these paintings… because it was as if I was stepping into the interpretation of the world through the eyes of another.

*m

(no photo mine, unless it says Little Rabbit Ears on it!)

A Thing or Two About DIY Adventures

I have never been one to jump into DIY ventures. First of all, there has been a fear for hot glue guns festering inside of me since I first tried to attach impossibly delicate hair to a wooden angel doll at the age of six, and, on that same sticky notion, I find bits and pieces of dried glue stuck to my body as though I were slowly transforming into a reptile for what seems like a week after. And so, for the past while, otherwise known as this lifetime, my free time has quite lazily drifted over to my computer, or eating out with lady friends, or perusing down the streets popping in and out of stores. But lately, as I avoid looking at my bank account where the numbers that used to look back at me with such jolliness are now literally sneering and/or laughing at me, I have to say my eyes have strayed every which way into this other world. DIY doesn’t just appear as a little more appealing than before, it looks like something of a necessity to me if I want to have a somewhat visually pleasing room next year.

The world of my free time may be about to turn into… slightly-less-free-but-oh-so-joyously-productive time. Can’t say it’s a decision I want to make at this point. I’m still hoping I win some variation of contest that just violently throws money at me, as though my bank account numbers are yelling, “Yeah, take this! We’re multiplying like crazy! Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?” And I would laugh and say, “Silly money. I want more of you to love.” And then I would take one step into Anthropologie and *poof*, money be gone. It really would work that way. Let’s not even think about ABC House & Home at this point.

But see, I’m not a delusional person. I am painstakingly aware that my part-time job next year will not fuel these wistful ideas of mine. And so, thus marked the opening of Sweet Paul Magazine, no. 10. The edition of last year’s fall, but the edition that threw a pitcher of cold, sweet, inspirational water of DIY goodness in my face and opened my eyes to this hidden world. Instead of recoiling from the boiling weapon otherwise known as a hot glue gun, I think back to some fond memories of my grandma and me in a white-washed painting studio, and of the less aggressive DIY projects we took on – like painting rocks, or making photo albums. The kind of DIY projects I genuinely enjoyed.

So now I find myself walking down the street into a cafe and instead of thinking to myself, “That grid of watercolour portraits has to be the most visually pleasing thing I have seen all day,” to, “Who the heck says I can’t do that?”

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Don’t worry. I will find the artist of this collection next time I swing by, but in the meantime, just bask in this charming set of portraits with faces spanning decades and personalities that are entirely unapologetic in their variety. I feel as though any one of these fellows, or ladies, would have an entirely different answer to, “Why is your portrait up here?”

And so, some projects I am (no word of a lie) stoked to take on before the remainder of my summer becomes lost in the sounds of my keyboard. All brought to you by the sweetest of crafty folks, Sweet Paul. Some of them, admittedly, are still a little frightening to me, but baby steps involve just thinking about it, right?

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Festive Pom Pom Frames!

Especially if one is partial to black & white photos, which are sometimes the classiest of colour hues, these cute little frames will give that much desired pop of colour that some folks (hey, what’s up, that’s me) can’t do without.

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City Scene Candle Motives!

I dig the traditional architecture (in fact, it looks like the Bay building in Vancouver to me), but most of all, I am swooning over the fact that the lights will be flickering with the candle (or LED flickering light) making the whole scene so whimsically alive.

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Jar Light!

Yes, this one is daunting as it involves actual electrical work, but the outcome is almost enough for me to maybe possibly consider it? Yes. Got my thinking face on now.

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Vintage Bookshelf!

If anyone is already lusting after those walls where there is a myriad of book pages pressed to the wall (like this), practically breathing inspiration into your room, then the idea of using a vintage book as a shelf might just be its equally whimsical sister. Imagine placing miniature teacups and delicate vases on top. Lovely.

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Castle Votive Lantern!

The young lady behind this magical creation, Lova Blavarg, is a Swedish princess. Well, at least the closest thing to, because she is gracing the world with the loveliest of crafts and art projects. She must literally only drink creative juices (bought in some obscure local Swedish farmer’s market) because I don’t know how on earth she comes up with some of these beautiful ideas. Who wouldn’t want a castle fit for faeries atop a desk bogged down with work? NOT I. I need a dose of DIY luxury in my life from time to time.

I also snuck away to my cabin this weekend and, let me tell you, this place is a DIY heaven. Next time I head up there I will take a few snaps of what I mean. photo 2photo 3

The lodge is a place where all of the visitors on the island can go, but most of all, it represents the island as a place where interior design does not conform to the pages of the latest magazines, because the beautiful simplicity of this type of design is its timelessness. In other words, I could return a decade later and still find myself equally charmed by the quaint nature of symmetrical beds and faded floral curtains that have always allowed the most delicious amount of sunlight through.

The lanky figure in the second photo is an overgrown elf I found wandering through the forest, quick to assess the comfort of these beds (let’s just say the lodge doesn’t necessarily conform to the latest mattresses either).

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading, you lovely human!

*m

Moving On From My Castle

You know, I became quite fond of referring to my single dorm as my “castle” or, to be more precise, my “500 bedroom mansion.” I repeated the joke a few times, maybe more, and adopted a haughty, noble manner when inviting newcomers into my not-so-humble abode. Instead of walking, I glided, and instead of laughing, I cackled, so as to insure everyone knew the wondrous position I was in. But sure enough, once I went into my own bedroom which was right next to the garbage room and directly above the unloading site for the residence’s junky tings, my humble roots resurfaced. I would settle into my closet-sized room, throw on my not-so-royal bathrobe, and feel more at home than ever.

When my cousin’s little toddler visited once, mystified by how tall my “house” was, she looked at her mum as though she was told that my bad jokes were nearly tear-inducing (which they might be, but hey, they were funny once upon a time, I swear), and said, “But… where are all her toys? And her parents?” (I particularly enjoy the fact that the existence of my toys is the more pressing matter.) But, see, that’s the thing. Even though it wasn’t necessarily the home I thought I’d identify with, there were so many aspects to this actually ridiculously humble abode of mine that made it home (see: stringed lights, favourite birthday cards, deers staring back at me on printed paper, tulips basking in all the sunlight every morning…) that will definitely reappear in what could be considered my first real house next year. We have called ourselves the House Elves (my five roommates and I), and I will now be sleeping on a double bed for the first time in my life, so, to me, that is a taste of the noble life.

So! What does this call for? Virtual inspiration boards, yeah! You got it! Ey! Weo! Let us begin this wondrous, fairy-tale like adventure.

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 Something tells me that if I were to sit down in front of these two giant deer, people would look upon me as if I were true royalty. Or at least really intimidating and/or wise. Not to mention I would resemble a garden gnome if I wore my pointy red hat because of the size proportions going on (this red pointy hat may still need to be purchased to complete my edgy look).

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The House Elves are in need of some practical use of a non-functioning fireplace. So, what better way to take advantage of the fact that we have a fireplace than to use it as a store place for our textbooks! And then, at the end of the year, after our frustration with academia has lit up into a firey rage… we can burn them all. Again, it’s a super practical idea.

That, and I think every fireplace should be celebrated with a giant wreath like structure draped over top of it, and a deer with groovy antlers such as these.

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What am I fancying lately? Hand-drawn portraits. Even if they make my eyes look like a fruit fly or my nose like a pleasant piggy, there’s something very endearing about an honest & personal touch to your home.

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A cluster of vintage frames for a cluster of vintage, saintly women. Or, a cluster of assorted frames for a cluster of house elves.

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Well, black sheep are cool. And unique from the crowd. But, neon yellow sheep are most likely the original sheep hipsters. Who says all mutations are bad? That, and it has made this starkly minimalist desk into just about the boldest little thing I’ve laid eyes on in a while.

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Ah, a classic touch for a house to become a home. I just received a collection of rainbow laundry pins for my birthday and they will definitely be making an appearance in my bedroom this fall.

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I am now convinced that anything hanging on strings will probably make its way into my favourite things list every time. A jar with a light inside? Whimsical and much needed in our backyard (or lack thereof, but somehow we will make do). If not? Bedroom it is. Flowers may be equally lovely in an already sunlit room.

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Dainty Tingz

A collection of daintiness for your dainty eyes (can eyes be dainty? you tell me). 
Because I’m in exam crunch mode, I am lazy. Because lazy people don’t credit, there are no credits. Because I procrastinate, I have a tumblr. All photos from my tumblr, but are most definitely not my own. If you really want me to track one photo down for ya, shoot me an email or comment. Please congratulate me on my logic in the comments as well. 
 
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The last one-piece I wore was on the shores of Positano, Italy, and ironically enough I felt very Parisian. I was a Parisian child visiting Italy. Although I’m not sure I would ever have the occasion to wear such a delicate bathing suit, as I’m not sure barnacles and dog paws suit that lace detailing too well, I can always appreciate its dainty allure.
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This might be what it feels like to sleep in a painting.
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A singlet fit for a fairy. And due to my obsession with all things fairy, I need it. Although the only issue with this beauty is that I would turn into Carrie from SATC and would just lounge around in my undies all day, regardless of what needs to get done. Someone just answered the phone as Carrie. There are spies everywhere. 
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A little post-christmas daintiness. Replace the pinecones with flowers, and this is entirely fit for the summer.
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What is it about stringed lights that tempt me so? Well the answer is obvious, my friends. I just picture hundreds of little fairy wings aglow above my bed. And who doesn’t want to smile at the thought of that? 
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How I would like to look if I were a ballet teacher.
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A portrait of the Parisian child all grown up, visiting the city. 

 

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This would also be an issue. Because I would want to buy seven pairs so I could wear them every single day. Variety is the spice of life… unless your undies look like this.
Now that your eyes are so satisfied with daintiness, your ears might be feeling a little deprived. Don’t worry. I got that covered for you. 
 
Keaton Henson: Lying to You
 
I first heard Keaton Henson’s song, “Lying to You”, and instantly fell head over feels with his vocal cords. So much soul in this fella.
 
 
As we lie in bed I feel lonely,
Though we’re young, I feel eighty years old.
And your arms around me are keeping me warm.
But baby, I’m still feeling cold.
 
Daughter: Candles

Had a special someone send me this song, and it only makes my infatuation with Daughter multiply by a hundo.  If Keaton Henson and Daughter were to get together, I would be the happiest girl in the world. The world needs more perfection.
 
 
 
Things cannot be reversed, we learn from the times we are cursed
Things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst
And learn from the ones we hate the most how to
Blow out all the candles, blow out all the candles
“You’re too old to be so shy,” he says to me so I stay the night.
 
Bloc Party: Signs
 
Yesterday was a giddy moment indeed, folks. That same special someone sent me a link to these fellas and I just got waves of butterflies once I heard them. Their album, Intimacy, is ridiculous. I could listen to it on repeat for hours. Especially this song. It’s so pleasing to my ears, they’re just beaming.
 
 
I can sleep forever these days‘Cause in my dreams I see you againBut this time fleshed out fuller facedIn your confirmation dress

I hope you all feel a tad more dainty. Until next time.
*m
 

 

 
 

January’s Pressures

I think of all the months, January very well may have it the hardest.

Just around the corner of New Year’s ecstasy lies the first of January, gleaming in the light of a fresh start. She’s dressed in garments of hope, and ambition, wearing a beret made up of future artistic endeavours, and peers through sunglasses moulded with confidence. We practically knock her over when saying hello, bursting with anticipation as we shake the hands of a new year. We begin to recite to her the dreams of 2013, and she smiles and nods and agrees with our aspirations. After all, how could she deny us this giddy desire for a whole year’s worth of days? The first of January is no stranger to such greetings, as it comes every year without fail. Whether we publicize our greeting with her or not, everyone has the same twinkling wish in the backs of our minds for the best year yet.

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Then we meet up with January 15th.

How are the daily runs going? January 1st told me all about them. Sounds really great. You mean you didn’t actually get up every morning at 7 to go for a jog? You know what, that’s cool. At least you go three times a week? O-oh, well once a week is really good too! Oh, no times a week? I guess you can’t succeed in all of your resolutions. I’m sure your school work is going swimmingly then. No? Have you been keeping up with the readings? Have you dedicated an hour to blogging everyday? Have you made sure to line up a summer internship yet? No? NO?

WELL THEN. I GUESS YOU FAIL.

January 15th pretends to be sympathetic, but we all know she’s a judgemental bastard. You came to January 1st with such ambition and innocence, and now you’re slowly admitting defeat to every day after. But hey! Wipe those hypothetical tears away! Go back into your closet and grab those hypothetical garments of hope and ambition and all that jazz! Snatch those glasses moulded with confidence that are gathering dust and put ’em on with pride! I challenge you to face up to one of your New Year’s resolutions for today and push that condescending reminder of your procrastination to the very back of your mind. Put it out of the way. January, as hyped up as it is with new dreams and rules, is just another month to try and be your very best. Every month should be greeted with such anticipation. Every day should be greeted with just as much excitement.

That is all, lovelies. I’m off to fetch a pita.
*m

Music For Yo Fine Earz

To be frank, my week has been hella chill, yo. The program I’m in isn’t entirely centered around what those around me call midterms. We do, howeva, have some majour research papers and projects coming up in the near future so don’t think this is a slacking deal. And even though my week has been deemed chill, my weeks in general seem to go by faster and faster. Honestly, it’s slightly disturbing how quickly it all goes by. 
One minute I’m waving to that dreary figure called Monday slumping towards me and then the next I’m running after Friday in his disco clothes whizzing past. I need more hours in the day! Mother Nature, I’m snapping my fingers! Make that sun last a little bit longer puh-leeze. 

What’s been helping me actually get out of bed in the morning though, before I’m caffeinated and superficially wired for my first class, is some new musica that’s been injecting some rhythm into my toes. 
First, tumblr tabs to inspire a beautiful fresh start to next week’s Monday morning. 
C’est parfait. Ce cappuccino est art à moi. 
(go google translator, buddy ol pal)
Attics have always had such a haunted reputation. Put in a window, let that glorious light in, paint the walls milky white, and suddenly the attic of that supposed family of ghosts is your most beloved sanctuary.
I used to be convinced that this type of layout of a kitchen was the most absurdly cramped idea for a realistic family. Now that I’m confined to the size of a closet for a bedroom, and have fallen quite in love with its quaint coziness, there’s much more appeal to living small. This is almost like a more formal alternative to an island, and who doesn’t like a hint of well hidden fanciness here and there?

Abstract Numbers:

Small Rooms:

Alvhem Makleri:

Abstract Numbers:

Abstract Numbers:

Abstract Numbers (can you guess I’m a fan?):

Alvhem Makleri:

Alvhem Makleri:

Now my lovelies, onto some music I’ve been digging.

And by digging, I mean obsessed with. Alex Clare is the most dreamy combination of foot tapping goodness and hip swinging grooves and actually poignant lyrics.

Alright, this next song may not be for everyone (it includes *gasp* swear words!). But I can’t deny the catchiness. Slash it’s quite the hypnotic tune. Next three are for them techno-dub lovers.
If girliness ever overwhelms you, and you’re in your footy pajamas with a cup of tea by your side, put this on and you will be in a small pocket of heaven. 
This song was stuck in my head for honestly days, if not weeks. It’s haunting. It’s beautiful. It’s addictive.
Cheerio! Hope the weather wherever you are is not as gloomy as the view I’m looking at. 
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