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The Outside Lands Edition!

Better known as, the festival where I spent three days gawking at ladies in cut-off shorts and sundresses, wondering how I so thoroughly lost the genetic lottery on cold-resistance.

In all seriousness, the quantity of girls in crochet bellbottoms and felt hats on my flight to San Francisco had me in a frenzy re: outfit planning…  but as soon as I landed I remembered why I left the Bay in the first place (wind, rain, cold, obviously) – and immediately reverted back to my old school getup of army jacket, jeans, and Converse, supplemented with some oversized faux fur, mirrored aviators, and a printed scarf or two for the sake of festivity.

Highlights of the weekend included: Haim, a long anticipated first encounter with Humphrey Slocombe, bearing witness to a legit Kanye rant, and the fact that the entire thing felt like an extended college reunion!

Levi’s jacket, LF faux fur, Ray Ban aviators, and Topshop Petite jeans.



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As either of my roommates will tell you, my mildly addictive personality occasionally rears its ugly head – usually in relation to a new Rick Ross compilation or some variety of tropical fruit. 

Same goes for my closet – more specifically, this top. Although it goes against all of my usual predilections (read: isn’t black; fits appropriately), I can’t get enough. After a couple of decades in mama’s closet, she’s coming apart at the seams, but I’m predicting that after a little TLC from the tailor, we’ll fall right back into our pattern of extensive overuse.

Vintage top, Zara skirt, jacket, and sandals. 



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I call this one “post-Pilates desperation,” a.k.a. “there was no time to shower so I doused myself in dry shampoo and red lipstick, picked out my most formal gym clothes, and scurried out the door.”

Of note are these recently acquired Nike’s – a tiny bit more glam than the OG Free’s that got me through years of intensive, if intermittent, elliptical sessions in one piece. They speak to my operative philosophy of all-ombré-everything, and are effectively the sporty equivalent of a kitten heel – they don’t really serve an athletic purpose, but provide a low key (and much appreciated) 1.25″ of extra elevation.

H&M Jacket, ASOS Petite crop top, Millau sweatpants, and Nike shoes. 


My irregular blogging schedule probably speaks for itself, but recently time has been the one commodity I can’t seem to get enough of. The sartorial side effect of this is a heightened enthusiasm for multipurpose separates that bridge the work/life divide – the boyfriend blazer (below) in particular. Supremely cozy, derivative of professional attire, and fits like a sack? Sold.

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Topshop blazer, Balenciaga tee, Topshop jeans, and Opening Ceremony mules.


They may look unremarkable, but these jeans are actually a triumph in tasteful knee exposure for a petite lady such as myself. Usually, the distressing action on pants like these doesn’t translate to my shorter-than-average legs, leaving me to DIY or settle for awkwardly situated holes in the calf + ankle areas.

Topshop kills it in the petite denim department, with an inseam that actually works, and a bevy of high-waisted options – perfect for the girl who wants to trick people into thinking her legs are longer than they are (me). Toss in a leather jacket and some metallic sandals, and you get an outfit that’s a bit aspirational biker chick without being overly costume-y.

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Zara jacket, Splendid tee, Topshop denim, Opening Ceremony sandals.


Takeaway from this weekend – the phrase “mother knows best” is apparently as relevant sartorially as it is in any other context. Case in point – this striped shirt, made to my mom’s specifications in India years ago (and since appropriated for my own use), which has scored more compliments from strangers than any other article of clothing I own. Sentimental value aside, I love that the combination of cut + color scheme hints at another decade, while the clean lines + asymmetrical stripe pattern keep things contemporary.

This brings me to another trite but relevant phrase – “the best things in life are free” – specifically, when said things are stolen from your mother’s closet.

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Vintage top, Carmar denim, Opening Ceremony sandals, Rayban sunnies, and Mansur Gavriel bucket bag.


After another accidental hiatus from the blog, I’m back… and just in time for summer in LA, apparently. As a die hard proponent of the sun’s out + guns out approach to dressing for warm weather, I’m always happy to revert back to the prototypical uniform of tank top + denim shorts, which, despite a few missteps over the years (read: sassy, declarative tank tops circa 2005) has remained mostly timeless.

That said, as with any other uniform, it’s all in the accessories – in this case, my trusty wool hat from Topshop (simultaneously useful for sun protection and hairbrush avoidance); and Mansur Gavriel bucket bag to tote around the essentials.

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Topshop hat, Rayban sunnies, Zara camisole and sandals, Vintage Levi’s cut offs, Mansur Gavriel bag.

(Pardon the washed out photo – it’s not to make me look angelic so much as it is to do justice to the bag!)





If my closet were a food pyramid, faux fur would definitely occupy its carb-y base – right alongside my sweater blankets, boyfriend jeans, and trusty mules. I think it’s the form-meets-function aspect of it that gets me, because if you’ve never owned a faux fur vest, you’ve probably also never known what it is to be warm.

Side-note: I’m generally a natural make-up kind of gal, but NARS lipstick in Fire Down Below has me converted – it’s the perfect deep red for olive skin, and a (much) moodier alternative to my usual pink-brown Pigalle.

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LF faux fur vest, ASOS Petite crop top, Urban Renewal denim skirt, Givenchy platforms.



Modified business casual for the girl who loathes business casual – textured blazer, loud button down, and ankle-strap pumps, tempered with a tattered pair of boyfriend jeans (that fit like they’re from the “pant-sagging” heyday that was middle school). As you can probably see, jury is still out on whether I’d survive in a workplace with a real dress code!

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Topshop Petite blazer, 10 Crosby Derek Lam top, Carmar denim, Zara pumps, Alexander Wang wristlet.


As much as I love my clunky, yet adorable, Fujifilm Instax Mini, there are times when a) I don’t have the patience to wait 20 seconds for a photo to develop, and b) social norms won’t permit me to whip out an enormous (pink) camera and start snapping away. Hence, the test-drive of the Polamatic app, which combines the sound effects of an instant camera with the immediate gratification (and filtering) capability of an iPhone.

As far as the actual outfit goes – I don’t think dress sweatpants (bouclé, if you’re feeling fancy)  are the type of thing that require an explanation. Anything versatile enough to wear for brunch, a mid-day nap, and dinner, is a no-brainer for me.

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Zara open necklace and top, LF sweatpants, Margiela x HM booties, and Iosselliani rings.

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