novel dress: be bright

Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli // Martina Printed Dress

This collection of Novel Dresses is inspired by books that encourage their characters (and the individuals that read them) to be strong, honest, loving, and true to themselves. My book club finished Stargirl back in March, and that's probably the main inspiration for this series. Stargirl is a charming and interesting outside look at the fictional life of a very unique young girl in the midst of a normal (and un-accepting of her peculiarity) high school environment.

The rest of these featured books have various themes and content skirting along the same lines, some of them covering more controversial subjects like interracial marriage (a poignant side story in Holes) and cloning (in The House of the Scorpion) while others focus more on lighthearted themes of uniqueness and the power of words (like The Story of Ferdinand and Haroun and the Sea of Stories). While The Order of the Phoenix is one of my least favorite books in existence, and reading it ruined my young life for many-a-day, it does have a bright side: the character of Luna Lovegood is introduced, and she is as bright as it gets. A total gem in a very dark place. I chose to feature the book for her beloved quirkiness.

We often experience pressures from society and from others, but these books are great illustrations of the value and importance of sticking to your guns and staying strong in your beliefs. Love, loyalty, strength, belief, happiness.

Quite basically, be yourself, ladies and gents.

(Bonus: Take $30 off $100+ at Ruche this week, including all of these dresses, to celebrate their new lookbook "An Afternoon Alfresco"!)

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll // First Love Heart Dress

Coraline by Neil Gaiman // Froisse Scalloped Dress

Ferdinand by Munro Leaf // Tuscan Sun Printed Dress

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling // Rahima Floral Dress

Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie // Building Blocks Dress

The Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling // Margherite Dress

Holes by Louis Sachar // Desert Sunset Maxi Dress

The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer // Nastro Dress

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle // Rising Moon Maxi Dress

**see all novel dress posts**

novel dress: children's books

a little princess by frances hodgson burnett // in the maldives printed dress

I couldn't help myself. After playing with books and dresses last Friday, I continued my pilgrimage for even more literary ensembles. This time around I focused specifically on children's stories (although to be fair, many of them hedge closer to young adult fiction). I'm currently reading A Little Princess for the first time, which was my first inspiration. I grew up watching the movie. It is such a beautiful book and it has only reinforced for me how much I love Sara and her story.

I love to read, and I've even shared my love for some of these books before. But it all had to begin somewhere. And for me, it started here. With some of these books. I feel a unique gratitude toward these stories that permeated my earliest reading years, and they remain most precious to me. They have stayed with me in a way that other books scarcely can.

There's something incredibly special and lasting about the first stories that blew your little mind, striking down those natural walls that arrive with adolescence and self doubt. I was lucky enough to have parents who loved my imagination and fostered it whenever possible. I remember Barnes and Noble trips where my mom would let me pick out new books, many of them chosen more for their front cover art than anything else. I would wander through the children's aisle for as long as possible, picking up smooth paperbacks and reading the back covers, breathing in the smell of the pages and being incredibly indecisive. It was impossible to choose just one.

There are hundreds of beautiful children's stories out there, so I am sharing some of my personal favorites here. I would love to know if you have ever read any of these. Even as an adult, these remain some of my favorite books and series. If you haven't read them, you should! They're very near to me. Enjoy!

a wrinkle in time by madeleine l'engle // paris streets printed dress

ella enchanted by gail carson levine // lamar ruffled dress

harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban by j.k. rowling // moore park trapeze dress

dealing with dragons by patricia c. wrede // leah lace dress

winnie-the-pooh by a. a. milne // endless love floral dress

deltora quest by emily rodda // empress garden printed dress

the book of three by lloyd alexander // garden paradise dress

inkheart by cornelia funke // you're invited floral dress

the giving tree by shel silverstein // lantana scalloped dress

(read novel dress: classics!)

stamps of life

I was thinking the other day about how life leaves scars.

It's a common concept, this idea that we're all constantly healing from, repressing or feeling the residual scar tissue of past pains and heartbreaks and memories. Sometimes they're seen as a good thing - these invisible (or sometimes quite visible) marks of trial and error, betrayal and tragedy. Learning experiences that make us stronger in the end.

This is a little bit different than my posts on clothes and movies and books (which I still love to write about), but sometimes this blog is a reservoir of my thoughts and various rabbit hole adventures. Other stories that come from perhaps a deeper place inside my mind.

As I thought about life's scars, my mind began to tumble down that rabbit hole and eventually led me into a gallery of imagined people. I'm there too, and we're all covered in our vivid white scars, wounds of all shapes and sizes. What do they mean? Where did they come from?
I then started thinking of other invisible markings we may have. If we have marks from the troubling and painful times, shouldn't we also have markings to prove our triumphs?

I began to imagine the white scarred skin covered by stamps of color. The people became hosts to a vivid myriad of high-resolution experiences. Stamps made from words of love, traveling and discovery, blossoming friendships, victories, memories, and more. Stamps of flowers, maps, pictures, places, people, things. Tattooed from head to toe by the blessings.

It's kind of a miraculous picture in my mind. Because I think sometimes those scars can be pesky. They can be blinding. Just like our daily imperfections that preoccupy and frustrate us. Just like that story in the Bible where Elisha and his servant are surrounded by their enemies in the mountains, and Elisha asks the Lord to open his servant's eyes. When He does, the servant is dumbstruck to discover that the hills are packed with horses and chariots of fire - an army of angels standing guard around them. There is so much we cannot see and do not know.

There are two very basic things I learn from looking at my own stamps and scars.

1. This World is Broken
2. There is Hope

This world is broken and always will be. It's called sin and if you don't know about it, I suggest taking a look at the definition. You can't walk out your door without garnering a cut or a bruise - there are sharp weapons shooting across the air at every moment. It's a dangerous place to be.

But there is Hope. And His name is Jesus. He has scars too, because He was magnificent enough to walk in this world and is living proof of its weapons. His scars are real. If you don't know about Him, then welcome to the Truth, my friend. He is the author of those stamps of life, and I guarantee He's already made some on you. You may call them blessings or luck or karma but those are just empty shells assigned to the true source.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and brings so many thoughts of family and memories and above all, gratitude. Second best to gratitude are my grandma's mashed potatoes. But even in my short 26 years this life has managed to scar me. And I have been renewed, every time, by a brilliant stamp. Scars are real and they sometimes last for a long time, but there are things that are bigger and better. Things of color and life. Like purpose in Christ, like truth, like eternity.

I generally know what my scars are and how I got them, but I'd like to think that if you put on those magical glasses (or those God-given eyes) that allowed you to see life's many marks on my skin, I'd be a radiant kaleidoscope of color.

wanderlust wednesday

Killiney Hill. Southern boundary of Dublin Bay, Ireland. March, 2011. 


I have no doubt that I will return to Ireland someday. It has bewitched me, which is why I am sharing, quite fittingly, photos of the "Witches Hat" obelisk atop Killiney Hill.
My husband and I returned to Ireland together a few months after our wedding. We had been once before with my family in the winter, which was all snow and enchantment and exploration. That's where we got engaged, in the stunning, blustery gardens of Powerscourt Estate.
This trip, just he and I, was in the spring of 2011, a little over a year later. It was an entirely different world, and took us to many new places. It was our very first traveling experience without adults. Oh the bravery and the folly and the whimsy! And most especially the gosh darn GPS who (we named her Julie) was intent on our destruction.

Our first day there we took our little rental car and parked at the base of Killiney Hill. We hiked up the wooded walkway, the sunshine streaming in rivulets through the branches, taking our time. Once we reached the top, it was incredibly quiet and the views were cool and hazy. We spent over an hour just sitting in the grass, soaking up the view and allowing the Witches Hat to tell us her many stories.

wanderlust wednesday

I've got London on my mind.

A cold day in London is lazy, clouds overhead and people meandering.
You leave your flat with coat and scarf, your boots clapping on the pavement. Should you walk or take the tube? You could sit on benches all throughout the city just to listen to Londoners talk. Maybe the queen is home, whom they call "mother". Maybe a local pub can warm that latent chill in your fingertips from the light morning snow. A foamy cappuccino will do; that's the ticket.
The breeze is damp but your coat is thick, everything smells like rain in the most pleasant way. It's a Saturday, so you stumble on a hidden collection of market tents, the smell of warm bread and curry drifting out to you. You peruse the cheese tables and observe the crowds, everyone is jovial because food unites us.
The cold may banish a number of tourists, but it certainly doesn't deter the brave street performers or the die-hard wanderers. The streets are still full of people, locals and tourists alike. The silent buildings observe the sullen city streets, ancient and dull in the muted skylight. The old and the new sit side by side, chipped brick and stone to glass skyscraper.
The little bit of sun begins to vanish altogether, the evening peaks through and the chill deepens. Time for fish and chips and warm glow, time to unravel your layers and let your fingertips out to grasp the glass of cider.
The night lights begin to flicker on to illuminate your way, Big Ben shimmering green along the rim of his hat.

Sweet London town.

(see all london posts)
(see all wanderlust wednesday posts)

archives: a cat lady musing

circa 1990

This past week I posted this rather fantastic photo, one of my favorites from my baby years. I've always loved animals, and this picture is definitely proof of that. I gravitate to where the creatures are. 

(Unless they're sea creatures, because no). 

I thought I'd go ahead and reach back and re-post an edited version of an old cat lady post, dedicated to my love for the furry beasts. This week's archive. Enjoy!

I simply can't resist a cat, particularly a purring one.

They are the cleanest, cunningest, and most intelligent things I know, 

outside of the girl you love, of course.

- Mark Twain

I have a feeling that Mark Twain and I would have gotten along quite fine. Bosom friend status.

There's something about the cat-less population that I find quite sad. The cat-hater is typically a person that is missing something lovely, something like a cuddly spirit, a purity of heart, an affectionate nature. A soul.

The world needs its harshness, of course, but I find it hard to imagine dealing with it without a furry friend to guide the comfort levels of your home. 

A home without a cat -- and a well-fed, well-petted and properly revered cat --

may be a perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title?

- Mark Twain

I am sensitive, affectionate, romantic, loyal, devoted, warmhearted, friendly. And I am a cat lover.

Or am I those things as a result of loving cats?

World-changing questions.

I find myself changed by their sweetness, calmed by their presence, soothed by their tired, sleepy grins.

Happy to care for them, happy to be with them. 

I had a friend recently say that if and when we are able to care for them the way we do, vet bills and messes and all, we are good stewards. It made me smile and I think in most cases that's true.

What an odd little gift they are, such strange little creatures, like having my very own pokemon.

I can never fully put my trust in someone who hates cats. (I am also inconsolably sad for those who are deathly allergic). The cat-loving world is like the best of secret societies, really -- you hide your adoration, knowing in your heart that 1.) others will never truly understand 2.) you have something precious that they cannot have 3.) you're not alone in the world.

 When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade,

without further introduction.

- Mark Twain

You pass by cat-related merchandise and point and laugh, or show your friends, secretly knowing if they weren't there you'd probably make it all the way to the cash register with it before realizing you could never wear it in public anyway, because people would shun you.

You are unnaturally thrilled that cat sweaters and graphic Ts have become a somewhat quirky exception in the fashion world, allowing you to partake in cat-attire. (Cattire?). 

How much is too much? The cat lady will never know.

I do know that my life has been measured by the constant embellishment of animal interaction. Sweet little souls within beings that make me laugh and cry. 

Every home I've ever lived in has had cats. They have been my accessories of life and activity and playfulness. 

It's how I was raised, how I love to live, and how I live to love.

The wide-eyed way in which I take in the world, and come home to the purrs of a day well spent.

Mark loved cats...and pool, or pocket billiards. 

Whenever he played pool, he'd tuck a pet kitten into a corner pocket. The antics of the cat as it pawed at passing balls amused and relaxed Mark Twain...sent him back in high spirits to write the stories that endeared him to all.

Americans today have the same shrewd understanding that one relaxed moment 

helps you work and fight harder.

- Royal Crown Cola ad, 1940s 

(original post)