tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88447334602761308322024-02-11T18:44:16.746-05:00Passing Whimsiesa personal style blog by Lauren PfiefferSomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.comBlogger1745125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-2802528200564715922023-06-19T20:21:00.001-04:002023-06-19T20:21:36.486-04:00Living with Emetophobia<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBTLxH-jEcHrLGCTLqaXHQ1sGfevbyHjyE9JBG_DMqaQvrRrqKWPl4G0ZNiYRbBPd8fMbE2tMviw4fTJMf3ckmq4S_GZGj17ci_mS6gwuaAUDIqs9bG5FeipHexSh65ykoVBFalOBVtGhXHFcETvy6PyNhuk6PTLYXu2CGVc6V-951KLlLtUW2Suv0U8/s4272/AfterlightImage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBTLxH-jEcHrLGCTLqaXHQ1sGfevbyHjyE9JBG_DMqaQvrRrqKWPl4G0ZNiYRbBPd8fMbE2tMviw4fTJMf3ckmq4S_GZGj17ci_mS6gwuaAUDIqs9bG5FeipHexSh65ykoVBFalOBVtGhXHFcETvy6PyNhuk6PTLYXu2CGVc6V-951KLlLtUW2Suv0U8/s16000/AfterlightImage.JPG" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR12fMVAgs3ST_JSoCqzOMMo9NgTuR_PjD9MFVrZ_ljC4z_1Ehsngg7sEU6McPKwZQh1PbsOYUgRv_zZLPP7DfyXKYmU23mrhWhvc6FBG11hvMT6t17hi-O6_T9JhZboa7BU8mEv-aZw1CPpMcJAearCQMwdnLHxjBjt9nSwuVykJit5hEVk4S8sNzLU/s4272/AfterlightImage%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR12fMVAgs3ST_JSoCqzOMMo9NgTuR_PjD9MFVrZ_ljC4z_1Ehsngg7sEU6McPKwZQh1PbsOYUgRv_zZLPP7DfyXKYmU23mrhWhvc6FBG11hvMT6t17hi-O6_T9JhZboa7BU8mEv-aZw1CPpMcJAearCQMwdnLHxjBjt9nSwuVykJit5hEVk4S8sNzLU/s16000/AfterlightImage%203.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I was 12 when my emetophobia spiraled out of control, but it had existed internally long before that.<div><br /></div><div>If you're not familiar with emetophobia, it's the extreme fear of vomiting. I'll reference it as "getting sick," for the rest of this post because even saying or typing it feels like a bad omen (I'll explain).</div><div><br /><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #45818e;">The Beginning </span></h1><div>I can remember every instance where I've been sick. My first memory isn't playing with toys or an interaction with my parents. It's when I was sick in the middle of the night around age three.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've always remembered the instances in vivid detail. Where I was. What I was wearing. The intense fear I felt. Not only have I always remembered every time it happened to me, but any time it happened to others. <div><br /></div><div>School buses. Playgrounds. Cafeterias. I could recite every kid in my grade, above and below it had happened to. It even happened to me in first grade at lunch. I felt shame for so many years.</div><div><br /></div><div>But 12 was really when my emetophobia escalated. My sister was two years old and woke up in the middle of the night sick. My mother and myself woke up not too long after -- all of us sick with the stomach flu.</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1UUePM-KKV1YBv7OcXHfc2_EQQ-rvrstcCAG8CQgO_dxoWXuKaFQsE5kOBQyewtnbI0fidMQm5dKYi7X29YMNt-AEnlg2NRuMTNkR0u8R5SzKdLDeRlMNZYDGb_yL8e4VojbOoe9QJYs4fAP_AGlY_E1J5pqy9UQ8AxbousD59TS-brQxIdliNfqKEU/s4272/AfterlightImage%204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1UUePM-KKV1YBv7OcXHfc2_EQQ-rvrstcCAG8CQgO_dxoWXuKaFQsE5kOBQyewtnbI0fidMQm5dKYi7X29YMNt-AEnlg2NRuMTNkR0u8R5SzKdLDeRlMNZYDGb_yL8e4VojbOoe9QJYs4fAP_AGlY_E1J5pqy9UQ8AxbousD59TS-brQxIdliNfqKEU/s16000/AfterlightImage%204.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpg9s_jSw3xb4wH09IyP2quBiDsUzMk4H3GYwjaiKhHpriyYm9epf_hiP0N4JsNEZ6rR0bCa27-ZK-Dku3gZTcKUpHW9K3D4v0OScjj62YV0x1L9Op4axjKsK5MKkH3M2kvj1HEWCHyJ5fteIpBRp_UZG1aJP7QvDvk-xcTyW1KDS4H7H5At78bWg0dFQ/s4272/AfterlightImage%209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpg9s_jSw3xb4wH09IyP2quBiDsUzMk4H3GYwjaiKhHpriyYm9epf_hiP0N4JsNEZ6rR0bCa27-ZK-Dku3gZTcKUpHW9K3D4v0OScjj62YV0x1L9Op4axjKsK5MKkH3M2kvj1HEWCHyJ5fteIpBRp_UZG1aJP7QvDvk-xcTyW1KDS4H7H5At78bWg0dFQ/s16000/AfterlightImage%209.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><h1><span style="color: #45818e;">Will I be ok?</span></h1></div><div>Something in me shifted after we were all sick and I started developing strange coping behaviors. I would take the long way in our house to avoid the bathroom I'd been sick in. I felt like if I saw the place again, I might somehow be re-contaminated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Although not super religious, every night before bedtime I had to say exactly three Hail Mary's to completion, or my brain convinced me I could wake up sick again. If I started to doze off before finishing, I had to start over again. All three had to be fully complete or it wouldn't "count" to mark myself safe. One of the rituals that came out of this period of time is still one I use today. If I am anxious that I'm going to be sick, I ask a love one: "Will I be ok?" They have to tell me, usually promise me, that I'll be ok. Their words are like a manifestation of my fate. Only this affirming phrase quiets my mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>While all of this was going on, I wasn't eating and was starting to wash my hands obsessively after touching anything. I became afraid to go to school and be exposed to potential sickness again. After months of this, my parents took me to a therapist and she diagnosed me with OCD. It was years later another therapist determined the OCD stemmed from emetophobia.</div><div><br /></div><div>I started therapy and have continued to seek counseling for my emetophobia and OCD on-and-off for the last 18 years. Although it's a topic I've written about a few times, rarely will I ever discuss it with someone in person.</div><div><br /></div><div>I usually feel a lot of shame, to be honest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnEhzGs6PBvuR9mg7bDY7czXT33ZEzHfSc1Ga0elkssvgsla-gsWHdEUDV9rb7aA4f5Eu_4c5uLy6jdnbeqE3H80fashY8xeNPkRraMfvdjGNZ3Jex8lW48MtkzrENdKpOuSP5Dnly-vsjNOs8fahXO0G4YbK-9DKc6ZcX_RrrrW9jorBXZ5GxBwDO74/s4272/AfterlightImage%205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnEhzGs6PBvuR9mg7bDY7czXT33ZEzHfSc1Ga0elkssvgsla-gsWHdEUDV9rb7aA4f5Eu_4c5uLy6jdnbeqE3H80fashY8xeNPkRraMfvdjGNZ3Jex8lW48MtkzrENdKpOuSP5Dnly-vsjNOs8fahXO0G4YbK-9DKc6ZcX_RrrrW9jorBXZ5GxBwDO74/s16000/AfterlightImage%205.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxzETUxgLulIW1_tmoiIZ5-q978ZfBW2yG_IGPxTd5aaufXUFdWBMUnhkaX_BVqFh0_6E-7TAn8SK_AqswLEDUtdKptwDKtMVnuYuMCLVkyXVxbCESOhj4aY5qDUJRUlvxljmiQfGMW46cokJJOCI7-841knCeiNyl9lEcybp6Ik9uw-fgKEZxg1qrVM/s4272/AfterlightImage%207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxzETUxgLulIW1_tmoiIZ5-q978ZfBW2yG_IGPxTd5aaufXUFdWBMUnhkaX_BVqFh0_6E-7TAn8SK_AqswLEDUtdKptwDKtMVnuYuMCLVkyXVxbCESOhj4aY5qDUJRUlvxljmiQfGMW46cokJJOCI7-841knCeiNyl9lEcybp6Ik9uw-fgKEZxg1qrVM/s16000/AfterlightImage%207.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzeL0PbP0gxVw0e16eqPes35GmtkHPRN2JdowJZ7q4dHBhQJ6CAYJMeELLp2EP6rwFG7pNMcHlj4XfaEwYteLCh5r3tibKnfiqfdABeq6_QsqzllwO1eROxC4k_YNufEIVsIq3Z27uOjI1aq3B4IdXuXegOT8x8SRz-hqTBTqNZ2kuEyIxLU51NTQYrXg/s4272/IMG_1443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzeL0PbP0gxVw0e16eqPes35GmtkHPRN2JdowJZ7q4dHBhQJ6CAYJMeELLp2EP6rwFG7pNMcHlj4XfaEwYteLCh5r3tibKnfiqfdABeq6_QsqzllwO1eROxC4k_YNufEIVsIq3Z27uOjI1aq3B4IdXuXegOT8x8SRz-hqTBTqNZ2kuEyIxLU51NTQYrXg/s16000/IMG_1443.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><h1><span style="color: #45818e;">Day by Day</span></h1></div><div>I cringe thinking of people I know reading about (what feels like) the most vulnerable secret I have about myself. I often feel shame because it feels so silly, of all the things to fear, to be scared of being sick. </div><div><br /></div><div>Emetophobia has shaped my life deeply. I didn't drink until I was 21 and even after my first, I was sober for years. I couldn't even swallow a sip of alcohol without panicking over how it was somehow going to make me sick. It took a long time, but I slowly worked my way up to one drink and now I can drink two and relax. I like to have a drink now and then, but sometimes even one drink will cause a panic attack. Sometimes people heckled me about having a drink when I was sober, or even now, push me to drink more. My reasoning feels too intimate to explain, so I prefer to politely shake my head and decline.</div><div><br /></div><div>For a long time I wouldn't eat out at restaurants because I was scared of getting food poisoning. </div><div><br /></div><div>Boats are a big cause of anxiety that someone could be sea sick. Amusement parks are off-limits. </div><div><br /></div><div>Flying is what I really struggle with most. I have a very specific flying ritual.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must hide the paper waste bag in the seat pocket from my sight.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must take two dramamine for motion sickness. Even thought I don't get motion sick on planes.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must wear a sea band (a recent pre-caution I've implemented).</div><div><br /></div><div>I must close my eyes and circle the pressure point on my wrist over and over at take-off and landing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must have music playing at full volume during take off and landing in case someone gets sick, I can't hear it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I used to not eat or even drink water before or during my flight. Thankfully I've been able to overcome that. </div><div><br /></div><div>Performing these rituals on a recent flight to San Francisco is what inspired me to write this post. I was reflecting on how often I feel the need to hide these in-flight rituals and the other day-to-day ones I do. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG96s1zje8v5yChAR6Se0sbY_OIJmMzs5TTl8Hy7ll7iB3wjHl0FzyAElMUwXFaXn3s1YFtlqtwurH4-DhrmBSuoxm5xEfhsriKozozJRhRbFbfVWBQou8Bmy3Zfv_YtIahQwLgbbrhVzCtof_uxbxCIZoRykvxk39xUOk1xN87YZoA6-hNqiHYeozSwQ/s4272/AfterlightImage%206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG96s1zje8v5yChAR6Se0sbY_OIJmMzs5TTl8Hy7ll7iB3wjHl0FzyAElMUwXFaXn3s1YFtlqtwurH4-DhrmBSuoxm5xEfhsriKozozJRhRbFbfVWBQou8Bmy3Zfv_YtIahQwLgbbrhVzCtof_uxbxCIZoRykvxk39xUOk1xN87YZoA6-hNqiHYeozSwQ/s16000/AfterlightImage%206.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcY6NI25Z8yqi9xXm_3UZDfqtvZHyVtbMa6e1-s3FAvP04uWzyLL0wQEKn_IPLtjiRJX6C3X7fxUBXq5T2pJKssJ3EoqdITInXoFJPlFsZvfSSkPJclFrSU_HRTgrwuyhR5Y0bepSbTSx9R8en9oVXeGVdNtd9qxM0ikjbNG1jShMC3rTQcwJy8LdAcG4/s4272/AfterlightImage%208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcY6NI25Z8yqi9xXm_3UZDfqtvZHyVtbMa6e1-s3FAvP04uWzyLL0wQEKn_IPLtjiRJX6C3X7fxUBXq5T2pJKssJ3EoqdITInXoFJPlFsZvfSSkPJclFrSU_HRTgrwuyhR5Y0bepSbTSx9R8en9oVXeGVdNtd9qxM0ikjbNG1jShMC3rTQcwJy8LdAcG4/s16000/AfterlightImage%208.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><h1><span style="color: #45818e;">Healing through sharing</span></h1></div><div>I hide my emetophobia because yes; I feel shame. But if I look deeper beyond the feeling of shame, I can see that the cause of it is that I feel "other." Sometimes I wonder if those with phobias feel shame and otherness because the condition isn't as widely discussed as other mental health conditions -- so it feels like you're in it alone. Earlier this year I read <b><a href="https://www.emilyretro.com/blog/throwing-up-phobia" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">this post</span></a> </b>from <a href="https://www.instagram.com/emily.retro/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;"><b>Emily</b></span></a> on her emetophobia, and made me feel so seen. It was reassuring to read about someone's similar experience with this awful phobia. It inspired me to be more open about my own. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm coming up on two decades of managing the OCD and anxiety that stem from emetophobia. There have been ebbs and flows in managing it, and I know new challenges are inevitable. I'm hoping that through opening up my struggles, it continues to help me shed some of that shame. </div><div><br /></div><div>With much love, Lauren</div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-83965394364089734602023-03-26T10:21:00.000-04:002023-03-26T10:21:22.886-04:00New Yorker Recommendations for Things to Do | A Week in NYC with My Sister<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84jWmhAqQvrFeK-_pglEiDoUGtf0BjZWt-U3ey_NUDtdh3R9J39fksZW9DAcKQdlzJsGLpvUtnRbLxhUXvaVUgQEIkf0jRU5jP6AfFmTJXoZxT7Vahe7LXCVm9BgO1I_mYc0MUdwexYjKNJjgyTsgXi74sPCKJhjsvCcOU5QhyP5ITTrmQ6Eycjc_/s1920/337566014_3381989365394881_9032880188612784622_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84jWmhAqQvrFeK-_pglEiDoUGtf0BjZWt-U3ey_NUDtdh3R9J39fksZW9DAcKQdlzJsGLpvUtnRbLxhUXvaVUgQEIkf0jRU5jP6AfFmTJXoZxT7Vahe7LXCVm9BgO1I_mYc0MUdwexYjKNJjgyTsgXi74sPCKJhjsvCcOU5QhyP5ITTrmQ6Eycjc_/s16000/337566014_3381989365394881_9032880188612784622_n.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><p>Living in NYC the last seven years, it's sometimes easy to forget all of the fun things to do, see and eat that are <b>right</b> here. I definitely have my favorite tried-and-true spots I love going to, but I'm always inspired when someone comes to visit me to try something <i>new</i>.</p></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's been six years since my sister visited me in New York City, so I was excited for her to finally come again for a week on her spring break. She's a pretty low-key person, so we spent a lot of time at my apartment making food and hanging out, but I wanted to put together a list of other things we did in case it could be helpful for someone else visiting! So, let's get into it: my recommendations for visiting New York City! </span></p><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(127, 96, 0); color: #7f6000; font-family: courier; font-size: -webkit-xxx-large;">| WHAT TO DO |</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #7f6000;">HAPPY MEDIUM, ART CAFE |</span> </b><i>49 Market Street, New York | </i><a href="https://happy-medium.co/art-cafe" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This inspiring art cafe is tucked away on a quiet street and perfect for a relaxing afternoon of creativity. You choose from a menu of mediums like collage, clay, charcoal, or pastels to create in this stunning loft space for 2 hour intervals. Rentals for supplies range from $15-$24.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Spacious and inviting, the cafe has vignettes set up around the studio to take inspiration from and even a library of art books to flip through. There is also a small space to purchase in-house drinks, snacks and merchandise. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We tried out the clay and pastels this time and it was so relaxing creating in this softly lit space with 80s music twinkling through the speakers.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Reserve a spot in advance via DM on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/gethappymedium/" target="_blank">Instagram</a>. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDoHheFqwRVjBqmEpR8k5aagUm9q1NFT1t9_1o4raXq4VOBvx7eqGM2vE6dE8R73eqsgZofMRy6fWrnaHoUZ6ViHUPwOrn9qj0ktHdVtOaujcYgZJvOULG9ZDFCLYP3YTGlU3exhDYywOS7OFSUkQr770raQarFgJwTcwAwhyRrDDSMMznKD5564Q4/s4032/334270465_1612867765803300_1286009585593919078_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDoHheFqwRVjBqmEpR8k5aagUm9q1NFT1t9_1o4raXq4VOBvx7eqGM2vE6dE8R73eqsgZofMRy6fWrnaHoUZ6ViHUPwOrn9qj0ktHdVtOaujcYgZJvOULG9ZDFCLYP3YTGlU3exhDYywOS7OFSUkQr770raQarFgJwTcwAwhyRrDDSMMznKD5564Q4/s16000/334270465_1612867765803300_1286009585593919078_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkd4ixlhowCJfPmuqkEQOWMtPqPmczHcj-kIyxdqKn_M9o5Af60prMuo11ki78-47B_sp-DSakbumk-9FPjU3c0FMQSR5Jk4fOg_I1FCw7Dp1wqms3_AGrp2apDCzPgdKd-Opi5kXT9i1Aj0EZ8JQbT4_-cBO0NEkVsQJARsuTd1vA2SoLaZY5Dni4/s16000/333862024_1700310617033976_5835093816979064280_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3V6VQlOAgozRpZ8nQQ99xPRpnJZ2-dw8Po4MMdJAOT7qxI75N3u8Ci8-WJBfiS75kE9K7RrtE6Yz9IZBQL-ppyPtBMsMPCf0LfWsVv-D6nFC_cH0AVDRr2YH2rFi95UWh3bxdZy6BI4IvxEKVKL4Ks4zBjwXzXJtT5mrsSkHnRIZDkgIQOZBCfLO/s4032/333768108_116222341352335_8670421024100413040_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3V6VQlOAgozRpZ8nQQ99xPRpnJZ2-dw8Po4MMdJAOT7qxI75N3u8Ci8-WJBfiS75kE9K7RrtE6Yz9IZBQL-ppyPtBMsMPCf0LfWsVv-D6nFC_cH0AVDRr2YH2rFi95UWh3bxdZy6BI4IvxEKVKL4Ks4zBjwXzXJtT5mrsSkHnRIZDkgIQOZBCfLO/s16000/333768108_116222341352335_8670421024100413040_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXWxtEuJzjrjJ_zujrhMkka3t8_-_79XWdjagC-l80ZarIAKKY7Nl6PfyEsNz1MKTGDPKPS9tDriftq48xZNAOOTF7BhtQUIfV_BwyOxN_Fqy3ZFcQ8tZrmH86oA95UX7s8Fm0-qEnf-2ksZWOw-gxfC3oLUkBtnezibXWcO5ycOUngE28Fg2EPL9/s4032/334264850_1400485400707120_3614173157369084875_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXWxtEuJzjrjJ_zujrhMkka3t8_-_79XWdjagC-l80ZarIAKKY7Nl6PfyEsNz1MKTGDPKPS9tDriftq48xZNAOOTF7BhtQUIfV_BwyOxN_Fqy3ZFcQ8tZrmH86oA95UX7s8Fm0-qEnf-2ksZWOw-gxfC3oLUkBtnezibXWcO5ycOUngE28Fg2EPL9/s16000/334264850_1400485400707120_3614173157369084875_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8AoRGMvU2ScCf4f4M-VsSBNfqnsrHSOao8bkWouoBlAmbefyab7sfW58D-40rfyE_OlrFQBvjy9JFMmL8zk7wS59qfXIGUUPvLGaDpY-IAaVkLXYhki0BoYyeEP-BfNdtuid6SFO5ZuYRYIf4tepAJeHUGBoGEc9Mn6VrqWmfkTehJrDiN-SvFXP/s4032/334302032_929045108285393_649869674233348887_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8AoRGMvU2ScCf4f4M-VsSBNfqnsrHSOao8bkWouoBlAmbefyab7sfW58D-40rfyE_OlrFQBvjy9JFMmL8zk7wS59qfXIGUUPvLGaDpY-IAaVkLXYhki0BoYyeEP-BfNdtuid6SFO5ZuYRYIf4tepAJeHUGBoGEc9Mn6VrqWmfkTehJrDiN-SvFXP/s16000/334302032_929045108285393_649869674233348887_n.jpg" /></a></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">MAGIC JEWELRY, AURA READING + CRYSTALS |</span> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>238 Canal Street,</i></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><i> New York | </i><a href="https://www.magicjewelrynyc.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you're interested in spirituality, this shop is a must-go to. This small shop in Chinatown is full of inspiration. When you walk in, you're surrounded by beautiful crystals and chakra charts, but what most come to visit are for the aura readings.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">These aura readings are taken using photography to examine the electromagnetic fields or "auras" existing around you right now. They're seen through a variety of vibrant colors surrounding and inside of you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The process is simple and quick, taking only a minute for a photo and a few to develop. An aura photo is $30 and a photo with reading is $40. We thought we'd be able to clearly read our photos with the chakra chart provided, but the reading really is a must. The explanation and detail our reader provided for our photos was incredible -- everything was <b>spot on.</b> In overhearing others visiting the shop during this time also felt like the reading was accurate.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Walk-in only, shop closes early!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiRZTwNug5Mq1-RxW8xzLMnktt3mgi0f7b-TwhS30fJqqwPHgHADOS8PRquf6XqVzd_sAb3XquUheV60b-CjrKE6YU1f7UxGl9Y_xTPA9r7EZD4Q886M8JbpW8xnk8PEbEcHZ4ebZZ9ZtXWu_3dviHje0fkc1gsMHTmf-9RFVKmnPPRxGDwqyVYJX/s1346/Screen%20Shot%202023-03-18%20at%205.49.38%20PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1278" data-original-width="1346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiRZTwNug5Mq1-RxW8xzLMnktt3mgi0f7b-TwhS30fJqqwPHgHADOS8PRquf6XqVzd_sAb3XquUheV60b-CjrKE6YU1f7UxGl9Y_xTPA9r7EZD4Q886M8JbpW8xnk8PEbEcHZ4ebZZ9ZtXWu_3dviHje0fkc1gsMHTmf-9RFVKmnPPRxGDwqyVYJX/s16000/Screen%20Shot%202023-03-18%20at%205.49.38%20PM.png" /></a></div><p><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large;">| WHERE TO EAT |</span></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">HAO NOODLE, CHINESE |</span> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>343 W 14th Street,</i></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><i> New York | </i><a href="https://haonoodle.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Perhaps our favorite meal of my sister's stay was at Hao Noodle in Chelsea. They also have a West Village location. The space is beautiful and serene, featuring high ceilings and indoor greenery. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We came for the homemade noodles, each of us getting the Dandan noodles, my sister stepping her's up a notch and going for the extra spicy. So much flavor and dimension in this dish, and we topped off dinner with some steamed pork dumplings.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Fairly priced and truly delicious, highly recommend stopping by if you're a fan of Chinese food. We reserved a spot ahead of time, but looks like they accept walk-ins. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYpldg_VEMrLsbMcUrBHR7d26kxFfmdkOZQITTyxyGNhIBg9bjn9jeupYI81vhcDaPxR_pWHgOC8c7cJYGGTUHXWA-7uMfRlSLzVShviFLrrRhRWEq69wS7d8hUSMf0SxYcKAe1G10mj05MFuSiKyXzYzX7Jn9Wt_iyifcyqYpyufAOpgefi52tbep/s4032/334145081_888680638840765_4675112554522304374_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYpldg_VEMrLsbMcUrBHR7d26kxFfmdkOZQITTyxyGNhIBg9bjn9jeupYI81vhcDaPxR_pWHgOC8c7cJYGGTUHXWA-7uMfRlSLzVShviFLrrRhRWEq69wS7d8hUSMf0SxYcKAe1G10mj05MFuSiKyXzYzX7Jn9Wt_iyifcyqYpyufAOpgefi52tbep/s16000/334145081_888680638840765_4675112554522304374_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicjmXU8P8MtNAl8ZmlyddVKHctNc3wqlezoZcanfobVkfI-il0Ywwe0w9-l3xZhNzaHUTKN6d_ESxfNt_x4SKja4IElx1EAaoE1BYsZvyS9FPqqckMdIffZ0Qvn6DW8AtznIdejKKTA_-7Wmnr3_6vWL2yEH9TXxOq7weKgr_WmDqq_oZduD_UIg7o/s4032/334112503_2139634332891884_5430423971273650494_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicjmXU8P8MtNAl8ZmlyddVKHctNc3wqlezoZcanfobVkfI-il0Ywwe0w9-l3xZhNzaHUTKN6d_ESxfNt_x4SKja4IElx1EAaoE1BYsZvyS9FPqqckMdIffZ0Qvn6DW8AtznIdejKKTA_-7Wmnr3_6vWL2yEH9TXxOq7weKgr_WmDqq_oZduD_UIg7o/s16000/334112503_2139634332891884_5430423971273650494_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVIf8nrg6auYdw4lM92ySmPCa98ZlYHhUW9QfRvHmeFA-TVwVsNCjeY75WwNV_o3KjbObkco1NXi4YfgEHiJMmsKW5LFU1DMe8IVj6g12X1ucfYrlJwzNeqFBN_qfM32OZmp_IdkzgUONRSZSFWh7w32OiGRtW6hgy4y9IWuJ-ND-Bogx1zRRhioE/s4032/333802436_572318084861515_5128425715415657044_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVIf8nrg6auYdw4lM92ySmPCa98ZlYHhUW9QfRvHmeFA-TVwVsNCjeY75WwNV_o3KjbObkco1NXi4YfgEHiJMmsKW5LFU1DMe8IVj6g12X1ucfYrlJwzNeqFBN_qfM32OZmp_IdkzgUONRSZSFWh7w32OiGRtW6hgy4y9IWuJ-ND-Bogx1zRRhioE/s16000/333802436_572318084861515_5128425715415657044_n.jpg" /></a></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">SUNDAY IN BROOKLYN, AMERICAN |</span> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>3438 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn | </i><a href="https://www.sundayinbrooklyn.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My favorite pancakes in the city, there's a reason this Williamsburg brunch spot is always booked (once I was told the wait time was an hour and a half!). </span><span style="font-family: arial;">A reservation is a <b>must</b> in advance for this brunch spot.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Downstairs feels like a rustic cabin and upstairs is airy and plant filled where we sat. Although pricey, presentation is part of the delight of this restaurant. I ordered an oat milk latte which arrived in a beautiful teacup, complete with a miniature rosette on the side.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They're known for their fluffy Sunday Stack of pancakes with hazelnut topping and brown butter, which I got yet again. My sister opted for savory with their chicken sandwich and she said it was one of the best she'd had.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">No cocktails for me this time, but if you're in search for a boozy brunch with lots of photo opportunities, this is your place.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrITTyrUETT3iHAOY5SnnuRBCqdSI1N4hO97J4-eDBqvxCwe6JpeGwiMnd3QZOq_Xi3Om-UcnCvhOyhAMESCklu6z6BcoqtkAH06DyH1_HHBHo-NemUzcrRCJyLfOnLozh5U2xOLNanLhxNyy5UWCitS_TTc9LJ1TMxDHeQszptSHmjhy5t--uRQzf/s4032/334899315_597262322420790_2942330161205298817_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrITTyrUETT3iHAOY5SnnuRBCqdSI1N4hO97J4-eDBqvxCwe6JpeGwiMnd3QZOq_Xi3Om-UcnCvhOyhAMESCklu6z6BcoqtkAH06DyH1_HHBHo-NemUzcrRCJyLfOnLozh5U2xOLNanLhxNyy5UWCitS_TTc9LJ1TMxDHeQszptSHmjhy5t--uRQzf/s16000/334899315_597262322420790_2942330161205298817_n.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejM8KrmYsVdLq3JPGW2DIO3mErUp3G7kdW7BPz146UABks7TkcYLiTAO6UEM7vdTto8c-Ww84q9GIIlfG5aeTp3baFy6GkTWeCHiWs-FHxWDFz4OAzij_B89apn_GAmOF0BVPpF2y8kGz-0SbB6EwmquDWXfWr_D6TM9WvLA2ZpVX-UyecmRyGa42/s4032/333938551_1819580181745326_7137000024714165301_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejM8KrmYsVdLq3JPGW2DIO3mErUp3G7kdW7BPz146UABks7TkcYLiTAO6UEM7vdTto8c-Ww84q9GIIlfG5aeTp3baFy6GkTWeCHiWs-FHxWDFz4OAzij_B89apn_GAmOF0BVPpF2y8kGz-0SbB6EwmquDWXfWr_D6TM9WvLA2ZpVX-UyecmRyGa42/s16000/333938551_1819580181745326_7137000024714165301_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZGxnxsuWRZS623xqcwK-mExmazTtH7D9RIzeRqeSmSZPf3cZrUXcxrPGRBzMKi9Y32Dl1el9LTCBmmADnpTvGSUXdOCpFy9ksJM1g57TnziccExr7goMzOZSa0M3gYt9DO1OXQoNrwiEppYMdcDS96UfOh_EOhBo56H-pJ1cgIpB9ahk8lNBzzBg/s4032/334201388_6100249380013876_3579173106695839593_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZGxnxsuWRZS623xqcwK-mExmazTtH7D9RIzeRqeSmSZPf3cZrUXcxrPGRBzMKi9Y32Dl1el9LTCBmmADnpTvGSUXdOCpFy9ksJM1g57TnziccExr7goMzOZSa0M3gYt9DO1OXQoNrwiEppYMdcDS96UfOh_EOhBo56H-pJ1cgIpB9ahk8lNBzzBg/s16000/334201388_6100249380013876_3579173106695839593_n.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><p style="font-family: -webkit-standard;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">STONEFRUIT ESPRESSO, FARM TO TABLE | </span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>1058 Bedford Avenue,</i></span><b style="font-family: arial;"> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Brooklyn | </i><a href="http://stonefruitespresso.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p>If you've been following along for any amount of time, you know that Stonefruit remains one of my favorite coffee shops in Brooklyn for it's ambiance and delicious seasonal pastries and lunch options. </p><p>This sweet cafe is part kitchen, part flower shop. Let's first talk about the kitchen. The vibes in Stonefruit feel settling into a warm, familiar friend's home. They update their menus with seasonal produce and many of the selections are vegan and gluten-free. Some of my favorites are the maple banana espresso loaf and the many scone varieties. If you're looking for a more hearty meal, they do have a menu of ready-to-order dishes. I went for an avocado toast on this day and my sister did some oats with fruit! </p><p>In the back area is a plant and flower shop where you can also shop for curated home goods. I love to take a walk through when I visit to see all the varieties they have in stock for the next season.</p><p>Tip: get there early if you want a good seat. This place always fills up quickly! </p><p style="font-family: -webkit-standard;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7aI-8F978qKCyAbZIhI4CzAIGxD2e3iG9P2ETt7K1rM-7SQBU5h1EUYCL7SmUx8xKkxGBc6Xvs_slGimjRj8upxVkPHbIDvWVl03zAqz8s2SXg4W-Bd9k1ETNtt5_jet_edMeqBfTnwz_m1hd9cYvyzfhJuzR1EorbOIVKCProb8czkyQRce5K8B/s4032/334894075_189577920484497_6508437004468527321_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7aI-8F978qKCyAbZIhI4CzAIGxD2e3iG9P2ETt7K1rM-7SQBU5h1EUYCL7SmUx8xKkxGBc6Xvs_slGimjRj8upxVkPHbIDvWVl03zAqz8s2SXg4W-Bd9k1ETNtt5_jet_edMeqBfTnwz_m1hd9cYvyzfhJuzR1EorbOIVKCProb8czkyQRce5K8B/s16000/334894075_189577920484497_6508437004468527321_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErArtPpVMiXaUldr8ZxWylp-9etSYT6o-WdCQBGWszFt6lRXxGyNilN_fdOiOtLtoxKoeqsL6jxbgaZd3ObJFQ3GCDlgYBWEa5i9RqZTTA4ygyzbd6iK87xDcz7TM8n_0B1pPAGk4I65rt-MX9jiMaCNa3sa820CidrlR2eq0fCv8IRGEQ6o_EPcv/s4032/336655294_1285017125423731_7223428826927945239_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErArtPpVMiXaUldr8ZxWylp-9etSYT6o-WdCQBGWszFt6lRXxGyNilN_fdOiOtLtoxKoeqsL6jxbgaZd3ObJFQ3GCDlgYBWEa5i9RqZTTA4ygyzbd6iK87xDcz7TM8n_0B1pPAGk4I65rt-MX9jiMaCNa3sa820CidrlR2eq0fCv8IRGEQ6o_EPcv/s16000/336655294_1285017125423731_7223428826927945239_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6mhSIldXKMfYe2cUmzoeyYcZn3uNUXXK4BrRlzA8JB6TCU4jVB_uGUNT34QWO06qjLKzoVUe-Cjy83fTVROM4PbAWhsW8iR49dIn7MD9OQ9bYbg070sVGXkwQtf6gW-EmrHVXXOlAE43aSK-LXsgKzgCjlv17xG40oMGsCpsJ-Gndb7KG-mUNWDQ/s4032/336903755_887800822485533_635121712719819654_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6mhSIldXKMfYe2cUmzoeyYcZn3uNUXXK4BrRlzA8JB6TCU4jVB_uGUNT34QWO06qjLKzoVUe-Cjy83fTVROM4PbAWhsW8iR49dIn7MD9OQ9bYbg070sVGXkwQtf6gW-EmrHVXXOlAE43aSK-LXsgKzgCjlv17xG40oMGsCpsJ-Gndb7KG-mUNWDQ/s16000/336903755_887800822485533_635121712719819654_n.jpg" /></a></div></span><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">| WHERE TO SHOP |</span></span></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">MCNALLY JACKSON BOOKS | </span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>76 N 4th Street,</i></span><b style="font-family: arial;"> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Brooklyn | </i><a href="https://www.mcnallyjackson.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;">One of my favorite independent NYC bookstores that captured my heart years ago, the Williamsburg location of McNally Jackson is one of their newest locations (the other is in Downtown Brooklyn).</p><p style="font-family: arial;">The bookstore is an expansive two levels filled with books for every kind of reader. I'm particularly fond of their fashion section, which houses large coffee table books and lesser-known paperbacks on theory and history.</p><p style="font-family: arial;">Their stationary and journal sections are also excellent and always leave me wanting to take up bullet journaling.</p><p style="font-family: arial;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWzJ9y1bqxKm2JXFWWWqTu2KimV8sXAX6stuki2SNPUvg0Zm4zDSE9ZOhzsU5YKffzdm58ORYSY6-sVNdfV8X3d5id0ovKDciznvY03JCWynxfynV8nXEL2ihn0OjssDeDgDRuMcQThCnLbZva32NXlxX8FOwu8aUmRt9jDs8fXwBCfRL2le_yxdF/s4032/333843837_995444474756469_7261055780140310573_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWzJ9y1bqxKm2JXFWWWqTu2KimV8sXAX6stuki2SNPUvg0Zm4zDSE9ZOhzsU5YKffzdm58ORYSY6-sVNdfV8X3d5id0ovKDciznvY03JCWynxfynV8nXEL2ihn0OjssDeDgDRuMcQThCnLbZva32NXlxX8FOwu8aUmRt9jDs8fXwBCfRL2le_yxdF/s16000/333843837_995444474756469_7261055780140310573_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfFw5wPOXgCE0LkIaAXxPn00lshF3joboYvYXUZPQPhCssTqtCi0OTkFaPmk3gwCz-OlM1Z_xQ6MPQW-MH3dx5MNhphAmSv-yyBA7FY8gfbW8zUQGL2ecWPlQHDSpueXCRuWG-BRBl4eD2UYXpSYzPphWJ1PfPo5Uaai2tooBfz8MONxb3iq9yzfJ/s4032/334030046_101232386258183_2244800878506736718_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfFw5wPOXgCE0LkIaAXxPn00lshF3joboYvYXUZPQPhCssTqtCi0OTkFaPmk3gwCz-OlM1Z_xQ6MPQW-MH3dx5MNhphAmSv-yyBA7FY8gfbW8zUQGL2ecWPlQHDSpueXCRuWG-BRBl4eD2UYXpSYzPphWJ1PfPo5Uaai2tooBfz8MONxb3iq9yzfJ/s16000/334030046_101232386258183_2244800878506736718_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="font-family: arial;"><span><span style="color: #7f6000;"><b>AWOKE VINTAGE</b> </span></span><span><span style="color: #7f6000; font-weight: bold;"> |</span> <i>132</i></span><i><span> N 5th Street,</span><b> </b></i><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Brooklyn | </i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/awokevintagebrooklyn/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;">I could write a whole blog post on vintage stores worth visiting in Brooklyn, but one of my favorites I like to recommend for its approachability is Awoke Vintage. This hot spot is right off Bedford Avenue, one of the main shopping strips in Williamsburg (and also great for people watching!). </p><p style="font-family: arial;">Awoke is a packed, two room store organized with racks of color coordinated vintage from the 60s - 00s, mixed in with new, independent labels. I find it easy (and not overwhelming) to look through their stock and their pricing is definitely above traditional thrift store pricing, but reasonable when it comes to NYC vintage.</p><p style="font-family: arial;">They also sell small goods like trend-forward hair clips, earrings and sunglasses which are always fun to look through. </p><p style="font-family: arial;">If you're already in Williamsburg, this is a great shop to stop by to browse!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAI3jEdnzs1BE2Utnn1qZEUTBaFZ8oiYTzhWlhPwitYVTuQbZIw7e82OrwnRPftLWrKBKVXWllTayI9iTVO2NtkCLWVZ9VMy-3z9d1AwhIDkDg53lB1fwYDc2qHKql25Kr3jbGO_EjTt4PRfObnZmTwK5bYDsZ4jVgJTohzts4hYnLJF3BtKw90zR9/s4032/333846050_759478982361468_5123320067732557516_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAI3jEdnzs1BE2Utnn1qZEUTBaFZ8oiYTzhWlhPwitYVTuQbZIw7e82OrwnRPftLWrKBKVXWllTayI9iTVO2NtkCLWVZ9VMy-3z9d1AwhIDkDg53lB1fwYDc2qHKql25Kr3jbGO_EjTt4PRfObnZmTwK5bYDsZ4jVgJTohzts4hYnLJF3BtKw90zR9/s16000/333846050_759478982361468_5123320067732557516_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnoeEsJ3F9Li7f68YKXduemdbPy5LC4eXKhjdLJ5WnVDpf1xrCApeK0oI9I_7m1XoLsJNAnOsCIkyUyLuRPJh5eWUKLZqQdX0N5iOZoKmaL4LachSBeHDkZ2Lg5LmVprlfhvWEMj6rV6kFvmkXxbBZybn6ll53Ub0KQEURTfBZv7yrSZqZMITnosv/s4032/334541887_9730425890316292_8284957280876309012_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnoeEsJ3F9Li7f68YKXduemdbPy5LC4eXKhjdLJ5WnVDpf1xrCApeK0oI9I_7m1XoLsJNAnOsCIkyUyLuRPJh5eWUKLZqQdX0N5iOZoKmaL4LachSBeHDkZ2Lg5LmVprlfhvWEMj6rV6kFvmkXxbBZybn6ll53Ub0KQEURTfBZv7yrSZqZMITnosv/s16000/334541887_9730425890316292_8284957280876309012_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="font-family: arial;"><span><span style="color: #7f6000;"><b>GLOSSIER</b> </span></span><b><span style="color: #7f6000;"> |</span> </b><span><i>77 N 6th Street,</i></span><b> </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Brooklyn | </i><a href="https://www.glossier.com" target="_blank">Website</a></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;">If you're by McNally Jackson, not too far away is the Glossier store that just opened in Brooklyn. Whether a Glossier fan or not, it's a fun, aesthetic experience to visit the new store and play around with the products in an exploratory environment. </p><p style="font-family: arial;">Lots of cute stations for selfies and social moments, if you're into that kind of thing! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZtPS3nrFkQidukhhNZOxLVqhuaxDjLA5sPFMtAzYb84muWr_s4JERpctsdOdBKYLbfosiibnXrpW1bbKF3K2OnZebZRamiyLaLFoYRqjxKknUVICPBZdgS6aVLfZNIj6Ts4lKfZeadp92b2Hp5QbGcCsAZqfHgcJ_hsHU_ER2NJbg0aOvGd101rD/s4032/334914688_556957163232517_3316961391148801622_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZtPS3nrFkQidukhhNZOxLVqhuaxDjLA5sPFMtAzYb84muWr_s4JERpctsdOdBKYLbfosiibnXrpW1bbKF3K2OnZebZRamiyLaLFoYRqjxKknUVICPBZdgS6aVLfZNIj6Ts4lKfZeadp92b2Hp5QbGcCsAZqfHgcJ_hsHU_ER2NJbg0aOvGd101rD/s16000/334914688_556957163232517_3316961391148801622_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMDazsNwHA3vAfLpOZrCWR6aeQW-EIIauCb_0L-ZQQRaOADGb7wrSpu_zYyWS1WLzMe9r5NW7LpWaGGDh3rJpilsrGmxnmNefjR4dkRpop_3ivNR9yrHZ55PGRLRkSTanzs1agK_UeqivpQ-a0GCYDxWxgIeMrmWqw5WJZCY1VagauTvyzoImhGUg/s4032/334896208_116768378028216_2926400676229682907_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMDazsNwHA3vAfLpOZrCWR6aeQW-EIIauCb_0L-ZQQRaOADGb7wrSpu_zYyWS1WLzMe9r5NW7LpWaGGDh3rJpilsrGmxnmNefjR4dkRpop_3ivNR9yrHZ55PGRLRkSTanzs1agK_UeqivpQ-a0GCYDxWxgIeMrmWqw5WJZCY1VagauTvyzoImhGUg/s16000/334896208_116768378028216_2926400676229682907_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="font-family: arial;">Thanks so much for reading if you made it all the way through. Let me know if you visit any of these in the comments -- I'd love to hear how you enjoy! You can find more recommendations on my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Instagram</span></a>. </p><p style="font-family: arial;">With much love,</p><p style="font-family: arial;">Lauren</p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-7262442074839964382023-02-22T21:01:00.002-05:002023-02-22T21:01:14.260-05:00Were the 2010s all that or am I just nostalgic?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcWnave5kImis5nLGBfY0oWTGbQAskWxdQbiiK34gW5WGiiia5uDbEVuuWPWQG_sV5vzn1j8cBz3yoKSWm8B_LD9lviJoICucjYyMmQfnr6cvpO-nM9ldr7j5H-4jB0wD5voyvpST7FuU4cjyeu926fST0iMYuDw7WC9oVdXRCwN9KP5TBE9Bpc1q/s4096/331882716_1262559748020790_5756117317252739554_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcWnave5kImis5nLGBfY0oWTGbQAskWxdQbiiK34gW5WGiiia5uDbEVuuWPWQG_sV5vzn1j8cBz3yoKSWm8B_LD9lviJoICucjYyMmQfnr6cvpO-nM9ldr7j5H-4jB0wD5voyvpST7FuU4cjyeu926fST0iMYuDw7WC9oVdXRCwN9KP5TBE9Bpc1q/s16000/331882716_1262559748020790_5756117317252739554_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">Hi there,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Long time no chat. Time slipped away again. I remember when I used to come home and write a blog post every evening after high school like clockwork. It became a part of my routine, just like exercising or brushing my teeth.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Creating content for Instagram and TikTok has taken the space that used to be for this blog. It's hard to believe when I started this back in 2009, Instagram didn't even exist yet. Facebook was just gaining traction, Tumblr was taking off after its inception in 2007. TikTok wouldn't be a thing for another seven years. Everyone blogged: it's just what you did.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Tonight I watched <a href="https://youtu.be/N1VZIx77akE" target="_blank">this video</a> on 2010s Tumblr aesthetics. It was so fascinating to watch the trends I lived through and embraced now become dissected in Youtube videos. Is this how the older generations have always felt about the younger ones wearing vintage? I get the anguish now.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Watching the video threw me down a rabbit hole of nostalgia. So many internet friends (many I still follow) and internet-famous bloggers I worshiped at the time (still kinda do) popped up as examples for ten of the definable aesthetics to come out of the Tumblr era. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">If I could go back to any time, it would be then. Not necessarily for where I was in life (college wasn't anything to write home about) but the way we dressed and consumed fashion. Although fast fashion existed and there were trends, there weren't <i>so many</i> moving <i>so fast</i> like now. I also miss the style tribes that helped you feel like you belonged. Trends would exist within so many sub-aesthetics, each being tailored and trimmed to fit the individuals within their own tribe. The items themselves, whether infinity scarves or hi-lo skirts were simply the building blocks in which personal style and expression were launched.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe I'm romanticizing it all too much. That's what our brain does, anyway. It takes all the bad and pushes it to the corners of our mind so it can remember the good. But it all just feels...so far away now. With how social media has taken off, it feels like the road of no return. How do we ever go back to the way it was? To even before what <i>that</i> was. Millennials are nostalgia gluttons because we had some of the last childhoods before the internet. Even that feels out of touch from this lifetime.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe it's all too personal for me. I peaked in this time period of the internet, I'll be the first to admit that. They were my glory days of Modcloth Style gallery and Chictopia; skater skirts and Peter Pan collars; blunt bangs and MAC's Rebel. A long, but not so long, time ago.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe I'm just burnt out. Longing for a slower pace of...everything. The trends, the social platforms, the fashion, the ins and the outs. I do this to myself, creating little videos for the internet, like it's important and not a made up world on a little screen that doesn't even <i>really</i> exist. If I'm being honest with myself, this burn out goes so much deeper than the clothes, but how I'm existing in this life. That's what bothers me. How I used to be able to sit down and concentrate on <i>one </i>thing at a time with full intention, like a blog post, and now I can hardly stand to not watch YouTube while I'm creating a TikTok video and texting my boyfriend all at once. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">This need for something slower, the reason I came back to the blog last year, still exists. I haven't found my stride in it yet. I'm still in the system, this system of constant input and output. Sometimes, I forget what it's like to just sit in the silence of my thoughts. I feel my hand twitch, yearning to reach for the phone I<i> just </i>put down. Maybe something happened. Maybe something changed. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe I need to learn how to be still again.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-28264934923910058492022-11-27T21:03:00.003-05:002022-11-27T21:03:23.794-05:00Depressive Episodes and Coping <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QafXZbhDvM35qV3fZ1GC-DHHKtbo6jshdRj_NT50Y4_-FTXmNd6BNxho1DRSZNF9W3BWOcL6aSXuXhCKApyXBFgt_JWFgUv1WcRclNstLnNveKgfRwwerS979CFBpETyfDfn1ZxQi4t4zUoNX6p74fdjxQNsiDkvMT5_WhgG8erpg13PlPYIcwuj/s2965/317274708_854038215948955_2906079014213567883_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2965" data-original-width="2372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QafXZbhDvM35qV3fZ1GC-DHHKtbo6jshdRj_NT50Y4_-FTXmNd6BNxho1DRSZNF9W3BWOcL6aSXuXhCKApyXBFgt_JWFgUv1WcRclNstLnNveKgfRwwerS979CFBpETyfDfn1ZxQi4t4zUoNX6p74fdjxQNsiDkvMT5_WhgG8erpg13PlPYIcwuj/s16000/317274708_854038215948955_2906079014213567883_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">It was tough for me to realize a few years back that just because you're on SSRIs for depression, doesn't mean the depression is fully gone and out of your life. I think what was hardest for me to comprehend was that nothing, not even medication, would ever be a full-proof solution for the lack of serotonin in my brain. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">My depressive episodes come and go, even with daily ingestion of my 40mg of Citalopram every evening before I go to bed. I'm not sure what triggers them, actually. I have a few theories. I think loneliness might be one of them.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When I'm in a particularly lonely, isolated period of my life, I tend to sink into a deeper sadness than is normal for me. I read somewhere recently that those who have a support system in their lives are more likely to overcome their depressive episodes faster than those who don't. Checks out.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It's not something I particularly care to whine about any more --- being alone. Every few months I'll have a good cry about it and occasionally share something on the internet that makes me cringe in embarrassment after I come out on the other side of the pity party. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqRiBnTUr1FLUq3RTTs7Sj4ILiZh_q1Iz8HdNu0KqJG2QtoOpwFTBTxwX0RyCCpUt0gmkYlU8EvLbdP5yT4sJX-Q2VjK0kyRF45q3dU9uSazPmFB6YDyFIXbJ6aaDqBfM_YUZm5XWhAHV2QFN94wcgJ4YUX2jQqSgiQS3yq5BZwm9V5T8suYEEaAC/s4096/316587784_5756235907729796_6916388130148029911_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqRiBnTUr1FLUq3RTTs7Sj4ILiZh_q1Iz8HdNu0KqJG2QtoOpwFTBTxwX0RyCCpUt0gmkYlU8EvLbdP5yT4sJX-Q2VjK0kyRF45q3dU9uSazPmFB6YDyFIXbJ6aaDqBfM_YUZm5XWhAHV2QFN94wcgJ4YUX2jQqSgiQS3yq5BZwm9V5T8suYEEaAC/s16000/316587784_5756235907729796_6916388130148029911_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">As I've gotten older, I've realized that all of us are lonely. Some just hide it (and hide from it) better than others. I've never been one of those people. I seek out comfort and validation from others that I'm not as unlovable as I feel I am. I feel crazy sometimes, thinking, "Is this it? Do I get to always be the outsider looking in at the parties and the group trips and the Instagram shout-outs until I die?"</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I could go on, but point being -- I've been lonely since I was a little girl. I'm still lonely and alone, often times. Most of the time, I enjoy it. 5-10% of the time, it causes me to spiral.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Luckily, my depressive episodes aren't so unrelenting that they leave me in too bad of shape. I still go to work. I still go to the gym. I still get dressed and cook and carry on. I'm just, sadder. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcR4x9rU6huGhS56yA_vBACSWguUcImUu2BrUgYdjNmwZJtkKB5i4JZLG4EFJD3Pc_Zoz4PacyLqJ_KEX4kMxnICyvq-3ngYlNrLjonZh2zqc1oWhK_JHwMvcZVhKdsMB4RyDhvfqDDMYJliG5HnxKoqyk5nwMFa9BdNpmo28Xi72egAtBecBfOwa7/s4096/317122164_843253366730076_6326330690559512888_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcR4x9rU6huGhS56yA_vBACSWguUcImUu2BrUgYdjNmwZJtkKB5i4JZLG4EFJD3Pc_Zoz4PacyLqJ_KEX4kMxnICyvq-3ngYlNrLjonZh2zqc1oWhK_JHwMvcZVhKdsMB4RyDhvfqDDMYJliG5HnxKoqyk5nwMFa9BdNpmo28Xi72egAtBecBfOwa7/s16000/317122164_843253366730076_6326330690559512888_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">I have been able to find methods to comfort and cope over the years, and I'm grateful. Here's what I've been trying:</p><p style="text-align: justify;">1. <b>Movement.</b> In July I started getting serious about running again, and I've been working on repairing my relationship with exercise. Part of that is intuitively listening to what kind of movement my body needs on any given day. A lot of days, it's been walking, which has been shown in studies to help improve symptoms of depression. I don't know if that's true, but it seems to be working for me. It's my own little time to zone out and just mindlessly move through the motions (something I can't do with running). It's been really good for me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">2. <b>Getting dressed.</b> For me, getting dressed is perhaps my favorite part of the day. I know it won't be for most people, but allowing myself to be creative and play around with clothes first thing in the morning gives me a good start to my day. Dressing up gives me a purpose and when I have purpose, I feel like I can be productive in my tasks. A mind trick, but a good one.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">3. <b>Preparing.</b> I have high functioning depression, meaning I will most often still be doing day-to-day tasks, despite the depression. What has helped keep me motivated to keep pushing through the episodes has been to set myself up through success via preparing. It could be grinding my coffee beans in the evening so I have them ready in the AM or looking at my weekly calendar to see how I can better prepare ahead of time for busy days in the week. Preparing small things in my routine has given me a sense of control over my life when it feels like I'm not fully in the drivers seat.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnTSf0Ls2kbrBDiwYEqqWh8NgKrllOkCmvr6xgXk5imvCG7VaFxouKZYyMqtAKjM15WzfS_WM0mZpWJgWSd1l5kh5zSFkzuLtRd8S0Fl9aaQ9U7nhsMpOl3z1VGMIQXgTl-RslusVWQk7RZlOn5hlnH0Ora_Q7kE_c3aNgkTOk6LSPkG8vXppbbE9/s4096/317041736_1571164136643482_8545312592592077820_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnTSf0Ls2kbrBDiwYEqqWh8NgKrllOkCmvr6xgXk5imvCG7VaFxouKZYyMqtAKjM15WzfS_WM0mZpWJgWSd1l5kh5zSFkzuLtRd8S0Fl9aaQ9U7nhsMpOl3z1VGMIQXgTl-RslusVWQk7RZlOn5hlnH0Ora_Q7kE_c3aNgkTOk6LSPkG8vXppbbE9/s16000/317041736_1571164136643482_8545312592592077820_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Things I need to get better at:</p><p style="text-align: justify;">1. <b>Asking for help. </b>I will do everything alone if no one stops me. It is so hard to ask my family, close friends and even partner to help me with things. I often feel like a burden, or that by asking for help I might become more work than someone has "signed-up" for. I realize how crazy that sounds. I'm just trying to get better at identifying to people close to me when things are hard -- the next step is actually letting them help me. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">2.<b> Letting people know.</b> Like asking for help, I won't let people know I'm struggling. I'll hide away everything I'm feeling so I'm not an inconvenience for anyone. I'm working on saying how I <i>really</i> am to allow others to step in when needed. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">3. <b>Taking breaks. </b>All three of these kind of go together, but it is really hard for me to take a break. I work myself -- personally and professionally -- to burn out. And once you're burnt out, that's really hard to come back from. I took a mental health day off a few weeks ago from work as a start to working on this.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">These are all things that have been on my mind to write about the last few week as I've been dealing with them. I don't write as much as I used to, but I find that organizing my thoughts whether it's in a journal or a blog post like this really is therapeutic for me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #660000;">| Outfit Details |</span></h4><div><span style="font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;">80s sweater / thrifted<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;">90s gap overalls / thrifted<br /></span>Tan boots / thrifted<br />Dooney & Bourke Bucket Bag / thrifted<br />Red beret / had forever </div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-10581752826670898462022-10-09T22:55:00.000-04:002022-10-09T22:55:24.506-04:00B is for Betty<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIvurheCrlnw_mGR-dthSsrRFE9mIPDzPWxvQxnNVv8PzP8f98soBW6j7Yq1OAsg_vtxJlB5P5jL4Bzdcp2kuhc-segtCCTnPNHKl0Lx3MmIPBGWdWu7nMGD01QZZP_FrvkSfccbkNBLJUyIaPNxWZo8BeC5VdgyjDoQGISF8utcxMt9sQOYQNqa_/s4096/311264642_398787845789073_2573246178940686284_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIvurheCrlnw_mGR-dthSsrRFE9mIPDzPWxvQxnNVv8PzP8f98soBW6j7Yq1OAsg_vtxJlB5P5jL4Bzdcp2kuhc-segtCCTnPNHKl0Lx3MmIPBGWdWu7nMGD01QZZP_FrvkSfccbkNBLJUyIaPNxWZo8BeC5VdgyjDoQGISF8utcxMt9sQOYQNqa_/s16000/311264642_398787845789073_2573246178940686284_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJq-tCz0a2Ozz3J2T7rMYm0_GHfYpToG9Ph0pPsfV_L9zjpwU5D0FuxMs79OFpiN9LqeEltmnct4ILfJX1IIRPZTX4-c5nw1MMI6a_s_nHaE9FFiNeZMJVqX5QKjDUsnxpqgtiDoGGswhxTEqJBQfm_xwyL0chThjWhtqBBJEmY7yNpKK4VP9lK-U6/s4096/311124975_1021827685295526_7465964521033313751_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJq-tCz0a2Ozz3J2T7rMYm0_GHfYpToG9Ph0pPsfV_L9zjpwU5D0FuxMs79OFpiN9LqeEltmnct4ILfJX1IIRPZTX4-c5nw1MMI6a_s_nHaE9FFiNeZMJVqX5QKjDUsnxpqgtiDoGGswhxTEqJBQfm_xwyL0chThjWhtqBBJEmY7yNpKK4VP9lK-U6/s16000/311124975_1021827685295526_7465964521033313751_n.jpg" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;">My grandma was a collector of beautiful things. She loved everything floral, feminine and delicate. We would often take trips together to<a href="https://www.destinationmansfield.com/venue/carrousel-antiques-ltd/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #38761d;"> Carousel Antiques</span></a> when I was visiting home from New York City. It's a treasure trove of all things old, and we would spend hours looking at all the glass casings, through the bits and bobs. She loved to move slowly, with intention and was always picking up something she was fond of to show me and looking at the bottom to see where it was made.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYJuI0KC7XJLTIP8lLJJHp2l4j8hjGZEYJGP9AAY6wbC3XMeQfzdUBhl11VC0Kf_TVu-6UWr4tDoSjuglE_GMbddBFP7max85RmJwAG0RVHs9H2uTMRtG_6FDDWWaL37BHT2y2KZdqLsj6HPA5DskQYoLIUfIY7jPEUbuJ0aZYKsU_l8JY781mG_U/s4096/311102960_1600615000354257_5439463112767808428_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYJuI0KC7XJLTIP8lLJJHp2l4j8hjGZEYJGP9AAY6wbC3XMeQfzdUBhl11VC0Kf_TVu-6UWr4tDoSjuglE_GMbddBFP7max85RmJwAG0RVHs9H2uTMRtG_6FDDWWaL37BHT2y2KZdqLsj6HPA5DskQYoLIUfIY7jPEUbuJ0aZYKsU_l8JY781mG_U/s16000/311102960_1600615000354257_5439463112767808428_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrV-12tox_uWDrlZMawDDyjs0llOkgqIvqEWdqheXhAvF-61PXCXQemYdmSQ-CI80zipq65vO3NeoQeEfZX6hS8H-IVHt-PZCftTgzLkLMlc6MFRqga2MnL5tBuSrm0VNTs1I-5lsAVC_0OLvAZ_nwt7VF-bJolsIPq4ogmjatoUAORIFbiZjwVZB/s4096/311135275_5475179519186017_2461905444381321045_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrV-12tox_uWDrlZMawDDyjs0llOkgqIvqEWdqheXhAvF-61PXCXQemYdmSQ-CI80zipq65vO3NeoQeEfZX6hS8H-IVHt-PZCftTgzLkLMlc6MFRqga2MnL5tBuSrm0VNTs1I-5lsAVC_0OLvAZ_nwt7VF-bJolsIPq4ogmjatoUAORIFbiZjwVZB/s16000/311135275_5475179519186017_2461905444381321045_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">When she passed in August, we started sorting through her things in preparation to sell the house her and my grandfather lived in for 40+ years. Her jewelry was, of course, sentimental to look through. So many pieces I'd seen her wear for decades felt lost now without her. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I selected a few of the pieces that meant something to me to keep and wear in her memory. One of those pieces is this brooch. I never saw her wear it and I'm not when she got it, but something about the B for Betty stood out to me. I love its pearl details and the little curve at the start of the B. It perfectly encapsulates all the sweet, feminine things she loved.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij27-L8cKvH8hM8c3RUo5ep9qvTpco19Ji1BgALYQYPoGIPJYwQ5sYxMHoH-a7AkECfSGG_H7hsS7muGQ7PxvJtE9PSWgzqFEdHnP-HLZyhwcTzrV_rMEND7AkUoz8ZS83b0VxZx_bgZFcTXW78DycdAzKHm96M7IH2PZKUlPbUQ0MOSP4HSvjbc7G/s4096/311342874_438458538271973_6251451266499020704_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij27-L8cKvH8hM8c3RUo5ep9qvTpco19Ji1BgALYQYPoGIPJYwQ5sYxMHoH-a7AkECfSGG_H7hsS7muGQ7PxvJtE9PSWgzqFEdHnP-HLZyhwcTzrV_rMEND7AkUoz8ZS83b0VxZx_bgZFcTXW78DycdAzKHm96M7IH2PZKUlPbUQ0MOSP4HSvjbc7G/s16000/311342874_438458538271973_6251451266499020704_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwRoPV59Lpp9VaJ59-BiA7h7bZIhkS3qQc5QBqh219l3Ce_rVBIQhrnSSJ7U6pAGSVOwjtE_a2Xn9LmPogax4q9ie-r_j2nJpKz1JpM7qOP_pnlWlZW0w9BYvYEfRUzOUAs83q7raEyQyMdi6CcSTitwvnqB-_6bUV6sGDZYToZnvAFy2Fs1-vqtHg/s4096/311143955_2210846092429838_6774868344148264673_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwRoPV59Lpp9VaJ59-BiA7h7bZIhkS3qQc5QBqh219l3Ce_rVBIQhrnSSJ7U6pAGSVOwjtE_a2Xn9LmPogax4q9ie-r_j2nJpKz1JpM7qOP_pnlWlZW0w9BYvYEfRUzOUAs83q7raEyQyMdi6CcSTitwvnqB-_6bUV6sGDZYToZnvAFy2Fs1-vqtHg/s16000/311143955_2210846092429838_6774868344148264673_n.jpg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNOux4S-_HL-S7It9URK5_JpPdRjTIALWsHHKj0MxWfRUmBJMLRSaWj8F7nZMZtgb96G_rCCR2IQjUKHJbk0cwaWoyXnrFNtMSkM24X9hM5qUhB-uWw9Hjb9q0QFAWdDdIA4wGTdqtN2x3B9THddlB6w7rx4u9rXSswYpe-SLwyMjyu9XgwzeBDymV/s4096/311386255_507297247882520_6828712109772928713_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNOux4S-_HL-S7It9URK5_JpPdRjTIALWsHHKj0MxWfRUmBJMLRSaWj8F7nZMZtgb96G_rCCR2IQjUKHJbk0cwaWoyXnrFNtMSkM24X9hM5qUhB-uWw9Hjb9q0QFAWdDdIA4wGTdqtN2x3B9THddlB6w7rx4u9rXSswYpe-SLwyMjyu9XgwzeBDymV/s16000/311386255_507297247882520_6828712109772928713_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">The scarf was also a special item I saved from my grandmother, but it actually wasn't hers. I believe it was my great-grandma's. My grandma had kept it tucked in a drawer of her dresser with other old silk scarfs and handkerchiefs from her mother. I never had the chance to meet my great-grandma, but my own would always tell me stories of how sweet and kind she was and that I would have loved her. I wanted a reminder of Nellie to keep with me, too.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrFLqX7YnmACAvo3GGgtHwRopejTPGZuPSOynOHf6eOk6A8BV2G0F0WaD3n57Nowp4xX_gv93q4BLcxjNNm88jI1oQJ5sOxes-Tau3CgEkge4XRHJ0KGsQtvYUHgJS7Hjrb5gVkLZrhcVHGewU2mjPfDrOFg3pNUwzoj1cz-si1b1SX4iyrDsUCn6/s4096/311076839_1185820635701751_4002956074255685686_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrFLqX7YnmACAvo3GGgtHwRopejTPGZuPSOynOHf6eOk6A8BV2G0F0WaD3n57Nowp4xX_gv93q4BLcxjNNm88jI1oQJ5sOxes-Tau3CgEkge4XRHJ0KGsQtvYUHgJS7Hjrb5gVkLZrhcVHGewU2mjPfDrOFg3pNUwzoj1cz-si1b1SX4iyrDsUCn6/s16000/311076839_1185820635701751_4002956074255685686_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFbsD0BEisAuLU4WGFGJ9x-GvJ0rnxDFDaPx9Eef42tmC5d2TmbdYtLxU7raKcEwitzUjWd0Br2C7pqTUMgVZdk8kbtsZsOSwJlg8Sf6pEnOAOzIQznKYFZPNJLU6DsHSK0KNeQvYi8B_1daAx4CmZwInlULG30ZE05G3dyFs07I68uN24pjSgt8Z/s4096/311157558_1486344321886111_8866538053263221662_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFbsD0BEisAuLU4WGFGJ9x-GvJ0rnxDFDaPx9Eef42tmC5d2TmbdYtLxU7raKcEwitzUjWd0Br2C7pqTUMgVZdk8kbtsZsOSwJlg8Sf6pEnOAOzIQznKYFZPNJLU6DsHSK0KNeQvYi8B_1daAx4CmZwInlULG30ZE05G3dyFs07I68uN24pjSgt8Z/s16000/311157558_1486344321886111_8866538053263221662_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEIVGA-WiTFUQCMjTxyNbeW5_F6-WGyN_FgjlKavj0PqZon70GUQtcm1Xh57u-0hpoim2-rtfXxDEPWffgZF2aPxVn6z4GQTv6s9ypBSdfhTAj-L4ZpKsj3IfUfq1Nwo2IJpjEqQBuomgEu_TPUwSnYvp6jSbBzQ3hHz7uriVp8ZP1aHiITIEQyxR/s4096/311074660_441452344637305_4454872604113512473_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEIVGA-WiTFUQCMjTxyNbeW5_F6-WGyN_FgjlKavj0PqZon70GUQtcm1Xh57u-0hpoim2-rtfXxDEPWffgZF2aPxVn6z4GQTv6s9ypBSdfhTAj-L4ZpKsj3IfUfq1Nwo2IJpjEqQBuomgEu_TPUwSnYvp6jSbBzQ3hHz7uriVp8ZP1aHiITIEQyxR/s16000/311074660_441452344637305_4454872604113512473_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">This outfit felt special to me with these sentimental pieces woven together with old favorites I've had in my own closet for years. The beret is around 13 years old. I got it at Target when I was a freshman in high school and the tag inside is still stained from when my hair was bright pink. The knee socks I've had for probably around 10 years from when I was in college. I used to wear then allll the time. One actually has a hole in the back, but I can't bear to get rid of them. I'm sure we all have pieces like that!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I wonder if there will be anything my kids or grandkids will keep in my memory someday that reminds them of me. ❤️</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</p><h3 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Outfit Details</span></h3><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><i>60s Emerald Green Cardigan / Thrifted</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><i>Velvet Circle Skirt / Thrifted</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><i>Gold Chain Belt / Thrifted</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><i><a href="https://www.everlane.com/products/womens-day-heel-bone?collection=womens-shoes-accessories" target="_blank">Day Heel</a> / Everlane</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><i>Liz Claiborne Satchel / Thrifted</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Braided Rope Earrings / Gift from my best friend</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.meritbeauty.com/products/shade-slick" target="_blank"><i><span style="color: black;">Merit Tinted Lip Oil in 'Sangria'</span></i></a></div><br />SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-1800181833564883112022-09-27T21:39:00.004-04:002022-09-28T10:30:39.492-04:00Is Blogging Dead? Can It Make a Comeback?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3NskB65kGWVdprKreIam-3FyfBsdwB6zeszRbwGbRNVaRtG5Qh_TxCE_jfqo3kvkXdqQRPpou_hb5_f7oavTIFYDV8t9IWtPj2eyEZxbQieS5reTKPbioWKv4gYLPZ0Fb3e-zfWVheBhALhk-uI9ZHInhH9XGzVa1_FuCA603q9xfQrOOKv3iO4q/s4096/308802929_1031177590882613_7447126956300487325_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3NskB65kGWVdprKreIam-3FyfBsdwB6zeszRbwGbRNVaRtG5Qh_TxCE_jfqo3kvkXdqQRPpou_hb5_f7oavTIFYDV8t9IWtPj2eyEZxbQieS5reTKPbioWKv4gYLPZ0Fb3e-zfWVheBhALhk-uI9ZHInhH9XGzVa1_FuCA603q9xfQrOOKv3iO4q/s16000/308802929_1031177590882613_7447126956300487325_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">The other day I was curious if any of the old fashion blogs I used to read were still around. Originally finding them back in 2008/2009 was like discovering a key to another world. I would spend hours after school reading my subscription list and checking comment sections trying to find new blogs to follow. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhub3ys1T9LYf3T7HoVD4OTupoIbrgjBGIwwF83xTMrR6IIE5X8Z7zyF1CexnTvSj1fsStMHKMvspIiMgV_y6NQGTBMp_ZacaNbybkgnIWLdmzfhf4vWuW-O4jS0YA_VkSCHZS4zcGvLp83KjUI43geUmwH6jtC2nPmc-ywD2ZwiWKfRLfdGORp2ZVm/s4096/309162847_447698513848336_685539836056248159_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhub3ys1T9LYf3T7HoVD4OTupoIbrgjBGIwwF83xTMrR6IIE5X8Z7zyF1CexnTvSj1fsStMHKMvspIiMgV_y6NQGTBMp_ZacaNbybkgnIWLdmzfhf4vWuW-O4jS0YA_VkSCHZS4zcGvLp83KjUI43geUmwH6jtC2nPmc-ywD2ZwiWKfRLfdGORp2ZVm/s16000/309162847_447698513848336_685539836056248159_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoU6fW9SdvjcPm87EMdNOTkl_2nuG_8iWOBzcbqNy5euS1UWOH8qr_IzF5TD2ALw6-VgKZXZK6gK2054mVQyTKfPvIn5aSFey9roqOVeMf1O8HQCCO2Cf03bC5tIdmPObUOKndW-7ss-IXlRQm9kMvaQ-HAiaNCVYQ3ILRyewsEJtdDwsXMrfWZjZU/s4096/308769267_420968696758183_8492844904833149955_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoU6fW9SdvjcPm87EMdNOTkl_2nuG_8iWOBzcbqNy5euS1UWOH8qr_IzF5TD2ALw6-VgKZXZK6gK2054mVQyTKfPvIn5aSFey9roqOVeMf1O8HQCCO2Cf03bC5tIdmPObUOKndW-7ss-IXlRQm9kMvaQ-HAiaNCVYQ3ILRyewsEJtdDwsXMrfWZjZU/s16000/308769267_420968696758183_8492844904833149955_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Almost all of the old blogs I used to read are actually still around. Many are frozen in time around 2013/2014 when Instagram really started taking off and it was easier to share over there than write a whole post. They feel almost like an abandoned house. Like the owner left in a hurry and might still come back someday where they left off. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Others had been updated sporadically over the years (like mine), but most were updated every few weeks with sponsored posts or link lists around big sales.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxwXLEHKWkFlf8CSpDnDTHKj21XDWe6I-Ps9NbDABAE8RSC0jAzaqLmhrIXivzVWiHvc7BwafcKC3Yde4QEgY3213y9HFR2HPgQ4TUL4n8G0ZuqcRhFACXdTc5o8MqyQ5Vmw5AFpV7trCy3F8JYRPWArCaAtOodL6y0xeZ00dbWlFmkmQEsGmVnqo/s4096/308981732_644168873973689_6142287986495697316_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxwXLEHKWkFlf8CSpDnDTHKj21XDWe6I-Ps9NbDABAE8RSC0jAzaqLmhrIXivzVWiHvc7BwafcKC3Yde4QEgY3213y9HFR2HPgQ4TUL4n8G0ZuqcRhFACXdTc5o8MqyQ5Vmw5AFpV7trCy3F8JYRPWArCaAtOodL6y0xeZ00dbWlFmkmQEsGmVnqo/s16000/308981732_644168873973689_6142287986495697316_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes I wonder if blogs will ever make a come back. If the cultural pendulum will swing the other way and we'll all tire of the endless scroll of content. We'll desire a return to slowness. A return to human connection. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That's why blogs have stuck with me personally over the years. It's because this used to be such a community. I knew everyone who commented (partly because my blog was always small lol), but we had intimate conversations. I was so excited to get 10 comments on a post. I think about that now if I'm disappointed that an Instagram post doesn't receive my arbitrary benchmark of likes I've determined is successful. I still try to respond to every DM and comment because I care about the people who choose to follow what I post and share how how they connect it to their own lives.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAx1sz1kh2V4wU3z2UTzG5rh1CPIAqobL2oJ3dMZZ6VpKuWVMMb5YCXsqRbT07-Tr9rzUFCTTtifM4xZ0JAJbyt2NCGaLCo6vyCzpqDLtGW2h8HI6Vo2ULpc1iXg3BsrUT4B4bkWS8BZ5cbDljA69C1WZHCfL4n5Gcpn6p2I_Bwt-eDOEg07PI7nHp/s4096/308956280_401861342136724_4036176681035774386_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAx1sz1kh2V4wU3z2UTzG5rh1CPIAqobL2oJ3dMZZ6VpKuWVMMb5YCXsqRbT07-Tr9rzUFCTTtifM4xZ0JAJbyt2NCGaLCo6vyCzpqDLtGW2h8HI6Vo2ULpc1iXg3BsrUT4B4bkWS8BZ5cbDljA69C1WZHCfL4n5Gcpn6p2I_Bwt-eDOEg07PI7nHp/s16000/308956280_401861342136724_4036176681035774386_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">With every new social app, we crave a deeper level of authenticity. When TikTok emerged, it scared a lot of creators because it took a new level of vulnerability to be successful on there. The whole draw of TikTok was <i>anyone</i> could be famous, just by being themself. That was a big departure from Instagram where it felt like you had to sell people an idealized version of yourself.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But even over the last year I've been on TikTok, I've seen content start to shift. It's hard to put my finger on it, but its started to feel like content created to feed an algorithm versus content for connection. And I say this because I've been guilty of creating content like this, so I'm sure others have felt this way, too. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7PUWgjUmlzwpxKPhX9asXp-J74xsbSiKXwg4vf-CjQ9eJS_qV5lZFcRnrEbpCW_V_I4E3X8Zexwi4r8G3kgpdnf0s_oErlGzSqvqy478qtCyuWmeFBjSpR3XuFPxRa6amBR8v_bD7h0u27vbuaJfENsCrQgNHAVzhRz1it-rgQHskIHj3vKsTjXb/s3380/308798471_458869489536334_1200992452908969113_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3380" data-original-width="2704" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7PUWgjUmlzwpxKPhX9asXp-J74xsbSiKXwg4vf-CjQ9eJS_qV5lZFcRnrEbpCW_V_I4E3X8Zexwi4r8G3kgpdnf0s_oErlGzSqvqy478qtCyuWmeFBjSpR3XuFPxRa6amBR8v_bD7h0u27vbuaJfENsCrQgNHAVzhRz1it-rgQHskIHj3vKsTjXb/s16000/308798471_458869489536334_1200992452908969113_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R--O_k2957GcKsZcaHu_tXBSXiJhZyG7a22vIr5RbUo8ngEGGVEVKAgfNhAKvIwmQlNzsoxKAGuJjeXcLUR-N6IsJ5Vfxdd_eaEWPdb9ZxOUsV__rqYknKuEaDXNob0yrvavaDdOuCGv53uZ3ZYyFsBGQBGbPwA5P8uuJtJGizjCriwteW_l5MXX/s3994/309370276_421960903194863_6432216890315805650_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3994" data-original-width="2663" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R--O_k2957GcKsZcaHu_tXBSXiJhZyG7a22vIr5RbUo8ngEGGVEVKAgfNhAKvIwmQlNzsoxKAGuJjeXcLUR-N6IsJ5Vfxdd_eaEWPdb9ZxOUsV__rqYknKuEaDXNob0yrvavaDdOuCGv53uZ3ZYyFsBGQBGbPwA5P8uuJtJGizjCriwteW_l5MXX/s16000/309370276_421960903194863_6432216890315805650_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Then BeReal started gaining traction a few months ago. At 29, I felt annoyed and too old to jump on yet another social platform. But when I downloaded it, I realized it was actually pretty cool. No way to see the number of followers. Everyone is private. And you can only share once a day, nothing pre-filmed. I've been posting on it for about a month now and I have to admit, I really enjoy seeing just the average, every day lives of my friends. It makes me smile seeing them with their dog or fixing the same lunch they did yesterday. It feels normal, but also personal and intimate in a way.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">That what I kinda hope to find again with blogging. I enjoy just coming back to this space and sharing with no pressure what's on my mind. Not many people are reading this, but just like the limited audience of BeReal, I like it that way. It helps me feel more secure in sharing. And if you are reading this, I hope you found a little bit of comfort in the 5 minutes (or less if we <i>are</i> being real) it took to go through this post. That would make me happy.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Outfit Details</span></h4><div>Ribbed Knit Top / thrifted</div><div>Wool Camel Blazer / thrifted</div><div>Vintage Lee Jeans / thrifted</div><div>Tan Heels Boots / thrifted</div><div>Dooney & Bourke Bucket Bag / thrifted</div><div>Autumn Leaves Silk Scarf / thrifted</div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-8432108269216947612022-09-21T22:05:00.006-04:002022-09-21T22:05:54.610-04:00A New York Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDXR-swx5AOegvTnFcSPLAzY1vxX3botgH09woYjlG7vqI6GguE_9hzIQBj9UCr-pvbHYWJk-wF8IEd86pzSIn1j20hFsJzFjxDGKrcoMrFAznIynMJOCQb2dT4eF6rBp2Brtp6f0jd8oWg3EPrQiNczGixfa7E_ezvlrUbZUiKyLqpIQj2SFRXFP/s3556/308201214_1833126587079217_1060030915526061729_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3556" data-original-width="2845" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDXR-swx5AOegvTnFcSPLAzY1vxX3botgH09woYjlG7vqI6GguE_9hzIQBj9UCr-pvbHYWJk-wF8IEd86pzSIn1j20hFsJzFjxDGKrcoMrFAznIynMJOCQb2dT4eF6rBp2Brtp6f0jd8oWg3EPrQiNczGixfa7E_ezvlrUbZUiKyLqpIQj2SFRXFP/s16000/308201214_1833126587079217_1060030915526061729_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">I've been settling back into my routine here in Brooklyn after spending time in Ohio on and off this summer. I think I finally feel like I'm falling back into the swing of things: <i>just</i> in time to head back to Ohio next week. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">My relationship with Ohio has evolved over the last six years in New York. Those first few years I was hell bent on making New York work and threw everything I had into creating a life here. I also just really <i>wanted</i> to. It was my dream and I was finally living it -- even if it was on a barely livable wage in a cockroach infested apartment. It didn't matter, it was New York or no where for me.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCtbivDSPzOTAt9CAjM2U2B98dPN5IaGEXkIffnKwRavvnQ8b9IoLrtym26LGhLCooJ7YANVJcEgKtW5Ke5H6G23ofX1ZUkh8zW5re8otpTSsLA1UNG1V_BhYrSk1xSeIqg8Oi8niYc5ob_Neuxl1Lnr012DVgS616mzhoqfAqiGO14r0bAlYRmOw/s4096/307920619_616438850173757_6007779457570067056_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCtbivDSPzOTAt9CAjM2U2B98dPN5IaGEXkIffnKwRavvnQ8b9IoLrtym26LGhLCooJ7YANVJcEgKtW5Ke5H6G23ofX1ZUkh8zW5re8otpTSsLA1UNG1V_BhYrSk1xSeIqg8Oi8niYc5ob_Neuxl1Lnr012DVgS616mzhoqfAqiGO14r0bAlYRmOw/s16000/307920619_616438850173757_6007779457570067056_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p>Somewhere around year two or three my dedication started to waver. I missed home, sometimes. A difficult roommate situation that left me feeling like a stranger in my own home pushed me towards the home I always knew. I really thought seriously about moving back to Ohio around 2018. The things that once drew me to New York didn't feel as sparkly any more. I was deeply homesick.</p><p>I gritted my teeth through years two and three and then then coasted along into four fairly easily. I found my stride in a new job with a renewed purpose and the roommates situation had shifted in my favor. I was working out consistently. Enjoying living in as a single for the first time in the city, discovering what that meant. I had friends that I finally connected with and the city didn't feel quite as lonely as it once did.</p><p>Then that all came to a screeching halt in 2020. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukIOGx8bQvxw5WoGn5-NNNfQjKuYFLBJSQ_Nz23cJvRSuKtl2UBpAjQEsFWkEz0gyhffB-zvzyykKcsyeGqQxyz1Z81ZEUq6rjdfjRDjzqAYTkcaFw2hpZBnBi05FH3pCo_uaypjoZICVcicaH5lPUf9QytPabwsI0zQ2cOrozAt_sQGj9XT9NHxt/s3323/308246300_534816681744076_6204065323544610228_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3323" data-original-width="2658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukIOGx8bQvxw5WoGn5-NNNfQjKuYFLBJSQ_Nz23cJvRSuKtl2UBpAjQEsFWkEz0gyhffB-zvzyykKcsyeGqQxyz1Z81ZEUq6rjdfjRDjzqAYTkcaFw2hpZBnBi05FH3pCo_uaypjoZICVcicaH5lPUf9QytPabwsI0zQ2cOrozAt_sQGj9XT9NHxt/s16000/308246300_534816681744076_6204065323544610228_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p>Sometimes I wished I'd blogged through the beginning of the pandemic and what that was like here in New York. My experience seems so different to others who lived outside cities. Everything was so strictly shut down and I didn't leave my apartment for those first few weeks. I was too scared to even go on walks outside. Grocery lines wrapped around the block to shop through bare, ransacked aisles. Whole subway cars sat eerily empty for the first time...ever. Everyone left. I stayed.</p><p>It was a loneliness I hadn't experienced before. In a time of such unknown to be away from everyone, shifted my world. It made it so small. My roommates had left, so it was just me alone. I didn't have any family to rely on our a partner to hold me. It was just me.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2xjm9ZFteUHCIxtU0D05ygsmFtJVR5dzTrx7M3d5GnaehVaEinEU7VwBNxt3mLplbO88v3W1xUe3-oXF4HRUIia9TFuRIOWkr1aC_NrrrxpI_8YX26Ng7JNlSqfjrJSsRHv031s1cdRAECG6PIkVLvK9K7NFLPVIf8jrnbfeuFLGZPRyhpeGVLBb/s3560/307862429_766669301300397_8852503908124891044_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3560" data-original-width="2848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2xjm9ZFteUHCIxtU0D05ygsmFtJVR5dzTrx7M3d5GnaehVaEinEU7VwBNxt3mLplbO88v3W1xUe3-oXF4HRUIia9TFuRIOWkr1aC_NrrrxpI_8YX26Ng7JNlSqfjrJSsRHv031s1cdRAECG6PIkVLvK9K7NFLPVIf8jrnbfeuFLGZPRyhpeGVLBb/s16000/307862429_766669301300397_8852503908124891044_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>When it was finally safe enough to travel again, of course the first place I went was back to Ohio. I was working from home and everything in the city was shut down, so it made sense. I spent a few months with my family in the summer of 2020 and that's when my priorities started to shift. </p><p>I was reminded what it meant to be with family again and to have people there for you. For nearly four years, I'd battled everything out on my own. I'd gotten used to accepting surviving as going through it all myself and had forgotten that's not how life <i>should</i> go. It's ok to depend on people, and I was doing that for the first time in a long time.</p><p>Over the next two years, I spent time on-and-off in Ohio anywhere from two weeks to nearly two months. Some people worked from Hawaii, my choice was Ohio. Slightly less scenic, but it felt safe in a world where I needed comforting. With every trip back, I had to fight a nagging truth emerging in the back of my mind that I couldn't pretend wasn't there. I really fucking missed Ohio. </p><p>New York began to dim for me as I spent less time there. The people I loved had all moved away. The places I'd frequented, shuttered. The feeling of magic the city had brought me dimmed. </p><p>At what point was this worth it anymore? Being away from my family to...do all of this alone after everything I'd been through? It felt like a step backwards.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAZBTGzJbnDhpW0l0rq3WKnMFBItAmZHjugR1pHx0TpBs7DIOdcI4g9HmtbCGJKDXEzkjdWkYu9fxz8cLnRjBgSf1Je1aK0nq0m_BBG3YRXNUHqdua0VGVdYJO0q6KVy-BY-5UyuN0IWmr5JIgRdfXrdWpW0uS2EzDiCavJutSpOMspEvOU7Vvwt_/s3139/308237590_1184021052180660_7909961876773913870_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3139" data-original-width="2511" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAZBTGzJbnDhpW0l0rq3WKnMFBItAmZHjugR1pHx0TpBs7DIOdcI4g9HmtbCGJKDXEzkjdWkYu9fxz8cLnRjBgSf1Je1aK0nq0m_BBG3YRXNUHqdua0VGVdYJO0q6KVy-BY-5UyuN0IWmr5JIgRdfXrdWpW0uS2EzDiCavJutSpOMspEvOU7Vvwt_/s16000/308237590_1184021052180660_7909961876773913870_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p>I've slowly been trying to repair my relationship with New York over the last year, but it's been hard. I'm still struggling with it, especially going home so frequently. It doesn't exactly make it easy to fall back in love with a place when you're hardly ever here. </p><p>But like any human relationship, be it romantic or friendship, love takes work. There is still so much I <i>do </i>love about New York. Brooklyn, especially. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8lrVir7i3lYTmiDk2MRkJeTDpjhwdyIWCYNZYdCsMY8IF3iJ8e2v6JnhjynwgWQwpl2_SuiEtrKgOAY_tRUhTRlUDHbpdGJDau_HwVx5wPWoVsO2AwxlL_T4Cwb_qHD3Vs9-oUDYq8YH1D9HgZOi8yhrqwFERRIgDvoxQEd4dj27hi9P0KB-Yjau/s3989/307647533_796798388206359_7944778587675236258_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3989" data-original-width="2659" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8lrVir7i3lYTmiDk2MRkJeTDpjhwdyIWCYNZYdCsMY8IF3iJ8e2v6JnhjynwgWQwpl2_SuiEtrKgOAY_tRUhTRlUDHbpdGJDau_HwVx5wPWoVsO2AwxlL_T4Cwb_qHD3Vs9-oUDYq8YH1D9HgZOi8yhrqwFERRIgDvoxQEd4dj27hi9P0KB-Yjau/s16000/307647533_796798388206359_7944778587675236258_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">I was coming back home this week from a day at the office in Manhattan. Sweaty, exhausted and on a N train stuck on the Manhattan bridge (with no indication of moving any time soon), I couldn't help but sit back and think about how fulfilled I still felt doing this damn thing. The way it felt to walk through Central Park or how it felt to look out the subway window and see the kind of skyline that you never quite get used to. I know I'm not done here yet. I'm just working on the next chapter for me and what that looks like, and I think that still includes Ohio and the special place its holds in my heart. My therapist always encourages me to not look at the world so black and white, and I think that applies here, too. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">You can love two places at once. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #660000;">Outfit Details</span></i></h4><div><i>Peasant Top | thrifted </i></div><div><i>90s Miniskirt | thrifted</i></div><div><i>60s Etiene Aigner Messenger Bag | thrifted</i></div><div><i>Heeled Boots | thrifted</i></div><div><i>Chain Belt | thrifted</i></div><div><i>Earrings | thrifted</i></div><div><i>Gold Chain | my grandmother's</i></div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-53662749132037578542022-09-08T07:22:00.006-04:002022-09-08T07:25:24.448-04:00Freezing Time<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11GMhLiK_UcEuvCJmJwT72kFihmkp_yAkVa7QhZz47vB0HM9ERYEDmb4yEKrWERCTqSZVdBLUBNcv9TgvBNTDuuIacyWNEJllJ6iYe-dzAETQSOWr5tnlDUilw6gkNwhuKU7ujLcInBuzR9QqIytE9k6qoVpokvzCTadypkQ01QQQLpo0DZicjyRU/s3091/305827400_5970350189655572_3597669246726412094_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3091" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11GMhLiK_UcEuvCJmJwT72kFihmkp_yAkVa7QhZz47vB0HM9ERYEDmb4yEKrWERCTqSZVdBLUBNcv9TgvBNTDuuIacyWNEJllJ6iYe-dzAETQSOWr5tnlDUilw6gkNwhuKU7ujLcInBuzR9QqIytE9k6qoVpokvzCTadypkQ01QQQLpo0DZicjyRU/s16000/305827400_5970350189655572_3597669246726412094_n.jpg" /></a></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">My grandma passed away on August 13th. Almost a month has passed and I've been wanting to write about it, but it feels like nothing I share would fully capture what she meant to me. Still means.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of my biggest fears when I moved to NYC in 2016 was the thought of not getting back home if something were to happen to a family member. Every "can I call you real quick?" text from my parents over the years has caused my stomach to drop, immediately thinking the worst had happened and I wasn't there to say goodbye.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I was in Montauk over my birthday, my grandma's health started declining and I wrestled back and forth on whether to come home. It was first year of 29 she hadn't wished me a happy a birthday. I knew in my heart things weren't going to get better.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So I flew home. So scared in the back of my mind that if I continued to wait, I wouldn't be there for the moments that mattered most. I booked a next day flight for 6AM and of all the flights over the years to miss -- I missed this one. I was wrecked with emotion, feeling like any minute ticking by was lost time to be there with her. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjul6AgZ--7qP_h2GVuiQAR6SMbtNm2r6tgJNhv-_VUVcxoCG_a9c8rVlCJCL4T0a7Qe1o9SOuGWHsyXExjiN_zDiK8xgrNkbmFvqLekVu6Ki6rADNOOyshYZ0zYnfX141kU7ekjabqugisKsWIaea0yT8af-U53ANlcGAKPJISmC2B11DhafjDWf-I/s3091/305324796_2280524245447176_4023604996398485669_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3091" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjul6AgZ--7qP_h2GVuiQAR6SMbtNm2r6tgJNhv-_VUVcxoCG_a9c8rVlCJCL4T0a7Qe1o9SOuGWHsyXExjiN_zDiK8xgrNkbmFvqLekVu6Ki6rADNOOyshYZ0zYnfX141kU7ekjabqugisKsWIaea0yT8af-U53ANlcGAKPJISmC2B11DhafjDWf-I/s16000/305324796_2280524245447176_4023604996398485669_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Kind strangers pulled some strings to get me on the next available flight to Ohio. Relief. I boarded the plane with Tito at 9AM and touched down an hour later. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Seeing my grandma in hospice care at her home for the first time, I bent over sobbing, unable to control my emotion. My sweet grandma. To see her so changed in just the month since I had last been home shocked me. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I took her hand in mine and told her I was home from New York to see her. She opened her eyes and nodded her head, knowing I was there for her. That was all I wanted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzaIcxnJ33BEwSP25Tt4s2-312gZFncWJsJiSwOXEzIc-ml83n6Nx2FHkJgVbpc1srMt5kpND_lHohcfdvRpfJEKODXi_8eucC_YoiSsf_ZOz8AxcnA2w7ijOl85ulQZbxro8EfpqcIHiQ1tmsQRJaMZEvKUXCSYnKqRI7jpXGuct8_0VW22WIMYT/s3091/305334776_496586508470003_7547198843128510089_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3091" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzaIcxnJ33BEwSP25Tt4s2-312gZFncWJsJiSwOXEzIc-ml83n6Nx2FHkJgVbpc1srMt5kpND_lHohcfdvRpfJEKODXi_8eucC_YoiSsf_ZOz8AxcnA2w7ijOl85ulQZbxro8EfpqcIHiQ1tmsQRJaMZEvKUXCSYnKqRI7jpXGuct8_0VW22WIMYT/s16000/305334776_496586508470003_7547198843128510089_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Over the next five days, I stayed there with my mom through the day and night. She had been taking care of my grandma over the last few months and it was time I took care of both of them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I ran and got my mom ice teas from Mcdonald's and coffees from the shop downtown. I let her take naps as I watched over grandma so she could rest without worry. I talked with her, hugged her and told her it was going to be ok.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">My grandma lost consciousness soon after I arrived home, but I think she always knew I was with her. I held her hand and whispered about all the things I loved that we did throughout the years and what she meant to me. I told her the funny memories from my childhood I remembered or that she'd told me. My favorite she would always re-tell laughing is when she took me on a hayride during the fall and I proudly announced to the whole wagon that "My grandma can't have candy apples 'cause she has false teeth since she didn't brush 'em when she was younger!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionKiWGMlK1s481Ov293ItbytwJgoBcRWSBP3PgUMaYp7iQG1B9Ed2Jp9WWtiEBXMlzIiDn6HanWHDW2_q_TDHVXwYeP0NNTTFt321yiik7Fbv7lGZQNWk1BB9O7OE6RgJ1vjs8iiMwDK6Q5PqtHvmIhEyBJsCFV1pT8ScB-fcxR4mYs4qqhZO3zUt/s3091/305708864_435774105192597_7314789803482325278_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3091" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionKiWGMlK1s481Ov293ItbytwJgoBcRWSBP3PgUMaYp7iQG1B9Ed2Jp9WWtiEBXMlzIiDn6HanWHDW2_q_TDHVXwYeP0NNTTFt321yiik7Fbv7lGZQNWk1BB9O7OE6RgJ1vjs8iiMwDK6Q5PqtHvmIhEyBJsCFV1pT8ScB-fcxR4mYs4qqhZO3zUt/s16000/305708864_435774105192597_7314789803482325278_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My grandma loved to smell good and she loved skincare. After I started working at Kiehl's in 2016 and brought home products, she really took a liking to them and continued to purchase them after I left. So, I made sure she was still smelling and looking good, applying hand cream to her every day and making sure to put on Midnight Recovery Oil and Super Multi-Corrective Cream every night. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I played her favorite music for her. She loved Elton John, Dolly Parton, Josh Groban and Ed Sheeran. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGMX5OM_WSDct2en3kJrkM8oPBchV41mTNdvtqEuXUsA4ppL7B0DtziEazjkP91rVRMi9sBbHk4g9WXdhTdpZBPOU7XaE9uu6JHAEFGTd6Fo3_ZqA9FBzpJndEpB3a_oqFOBpLV1W3EHnbgUbtBqjZA1tVLctw7X7TwY5W1um3ltFHPUGnKBIf2mC/s2943/305309305_1130779944217666_3408524850332401047_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1950" data-original-width="2943" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGMX5OM_WSDct2en3kJrkM8oPBchV41mTNdvtqEuXUsA4ppL7B0DtziEazjkP91rVRMi9sBbHk4g9WXdhTdpZBPOU7XaE9uu6JHAEFGTd6Fo3_ZqA9FBzpJndEpB3a_oqFOBpLV1W3EHnbgUbtBqjZA1tVLctw7X7TwY5W1um3ltFHPUGnKBIf2mC/s16000/305309305_1130779944217666_3408524850332401047_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My family was by her side when she passed. It's been almost a month, but I still don't think it's fully hit me yet. There has been relief for me in her passing, I feel better knowing that she no longer has to be in that pain.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I keep searching for signs that she's here with me. I try to look for red birds since they were her favorite or listen to the wind chimes that hang outside our house to see her dropping by.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't understand death, really. I'm loosely religious so I <i>understand</i> what comes after, but I also just still hope, despite my doubt, that it's what really<i> does </i>happen. I can't imagine a way to cope with her being gone if it's not.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEIq-DF_syO5jB9sATJyUCtkQhuuUU69K_TJYzTxa5sjLKTotfbrQYjzAS5s3o6Ye6w7H_rP6wAgv1LM-UdiG7zoCBC-K0E4vV7bDA9-5LAqlJq9GZGG8eVdTZOSTMQMxruzaXadGarXrM6iC45-C1-RC2e85IX8blZhjBebP9p7txamDn4INW0IO8/s3091/305516887_1797384467274639_812733119300405685_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3091" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEIq-DF_syO5jB9sATJyUCtkQhuuUU69K_TJYzTxa5sjLKTotfbrQYjzAS5s3o6Ye6w7H_rP6wAgv1LM-UdiG7zoCBC-K0E4vV7bDA9-5LAqlJq9GZGG8eVdTZOSTMQMxruzaXadGarXrM6iC45-C1-RC2e85IX8blZhjBebP9p7txamDn4INW0IO8/s16000/305516887_1797384467274639_812733119300405685_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I wanted to capture everything -- freeze time in the house -- as it was to remember. I took this series of film photographs around her house in those first long days that blurred together. I don't want to leave reality up to my memory to decide. I want to remember the warmth that existed here through her life. The small touches that show she lived a beautiful, <i>real </i>life.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I have a lot of thoughts still, but this was a start.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">With much love,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Lauren</div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-30114775690972605202022-08-06T22:24:00.004-04:002022-08-06T22:31:23.138-04:0029th Birthday in Montauk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvX0Te3deKV5p6_W9M9tq-2-rLaGXiI3yLjwQ-KEbNb7OVutkM_kcHirwu7_0W89en5mB9L9PBM9SXCqb3rCEBE6lcmE1F5OUm30cb0gNFnMCYzkKK2B-dHHcA0HtQy6W7oU8NKRlsodqLdHOGM-BavGyHHkXNnkG0CrckVHbb24LMy4I_JJruUp7/s3365/297819807_591267295704726_6721425518591254059_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3365" data-original-width="2707" height="532" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvX0Te3deKV5p6_W9M9tq-2-rLaGXiI3yLjwQ-KEbNb7OVutkM_kcHirwu7_0W89en5mB9L9PBM9SXCqb3rCEBE6lcmE1F5OUm30cb0gNFnMCYzkKK2B-dHHcA0HtQy6W7oU8NKRlsodqLdHOGM-BavGyHHkXNnkG0CrckVHbb24LMy4I_JJruUp7/w427-h532/297819807_591267295704726_6721425518591254059_n.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-U_xMMX6eKgC_-awmxkXvtYSHDCb-_oH3-SXt7WTHKGisN7c6SfJAcRxsM15NLbpioksshcOI6YPHXvbjqhp4OiiKNnPFdz1ThS9DOabVyF301C5JHp3bYg7lvm0aGuLoyKg4F1xQPucqj2vSDAHuzZgW28caP6Zx_-zX9D5nllMyfX1tUiyGItj/s4096/297547147_1408819349604003_8784790055388185769_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-U_xMMX6eKgC_-awmxkXvtYSHDCb-_oH3-SXt7WTHKGisN7c6SfJAcRxsM15NLbpioksshcOI6YPHXvbjqhp4OiiKNnPFdz1ThS9DOabVyF301C5JHp3bYg7lvm0aGuLoyKg4F1xQPucqj2vSDAHuzZgW28caP6Zx_-zX9D5nllMyfX1tUiyGItj/w426-h640/297547147_1408819349604003_8784790055388185769_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXaX2iUMOaDOPYNlXDXHsQtiV11h3LYgMXZ2EVhs41sONNCnJwA1ue84NhoOn75ebxYdBNU5HMgtkAlBcpcjv_uUk08P2h5Xq2gGGb8EJs1oyCYCPVDE0mk6BYiZpJNASbZnnbiwUdkoa6EGi9sb-SEd4LieX9pa9aMvgpiIOjiFR_MwZA51pwOQu/s4096/296359843_1457555604687566_5554611435589847757_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXaX2iUMOaDOPYNlXDXHsQtiV11h3LYgMXZ2EVhs41sONNCnJwA1ue84NhoOn75ebxYdBNU5HMgtkAlBcpcjv_uUk08P2h5Xq2gGGb8EJs1oyCYCPVDE0mk6BYiZpJNASbZnnbiwUdkoa6EGi9sb-SEd4LieX9pa9aMvgpiIOjiFR_MwZA51pwOQu/w426-h640/296359843_1457555604687566_5554611435589847757_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInj4TYQsmTW4dkH-Lg6MlbKrdr3rqtjr4OFZaaSkhrDakfDDcw8CvhLPfERbiKzy1Oj0BouA_TuQtzK4TXlC6i85CjcxJjacf1ld1y8eh89TRUtgc7ICUwtYxnOomZ9oeG7H5zpEt7dQjei4Fs1kO_igt8GaBSy4_CAfLKC3EucNLQpYD9uCuVmUs/s4096/297737772_850452889263469_2954370368410076669_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInj4TYQsmTW4dkH-Lg6MlbKrdr3rqtjr4OFZaaSkhrDakfDDcw8CvhLPfERbiKzy1Oj0BouA_TuQtzK4TXlC6i85CjcxJjacf1ld1y8eh89TRUtgc7ICUwtYxnOomZ9oeG7H5zpEt7dQjei4Fs1kO_igt8GaBSy4_CAfLKC3EucNLQpYD9uCuVmUs/w426-h640/297737772_850452889263469_2954370368410076669_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0Prvvlg9N3rQX7uumuquxTkKaA8T0AGHEDIWhleG0cawSx-ICLXKrgX1evbYV-FuB1gJSSNbwH9yg0ex5O8tzeQ91rtGAA-lzcx6R1Hzk9cDU4cOUk9V9L9OpqZBYW7IBqDPbdTY40CGEhb9xwOD9MX0CwWPGnCwiQ70TQG8pf_j2EXcLUTGiJCO/s4096/297778509_525575859319206_168248946773649230_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0Prvvlg9N3rQX7uumuquxTkKaA8T0AGHEDIWhleG0cawSx-ICLXKrgX1evbYV-FuB1gJSSNbwH9yg0ex5O8tzeQ91rtGAA-lzcx6R1Hzk9cDU4cOUk9V9L9OpqZBYW7IBqDPbdTY40CGEhb9xwOD9MX0CwWPGnCwiQ70TQG8pf_j2EXcLUTGiJCO/w426-h640/297778509_525575859319206_168248946773649230_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgr3phnXDt-h5cT0bmwn3vAB5HTGMoiQyrQfusHDG-ZFZqVa_JDiU-tD1BfrxIUaDlrDz36T490DYYk5ZOh0_NDyS-W9P9BPz_6ObtVar_K-vmwq7Ossm3W0XjusPx3pmotfdF39tAIgHlPxwbloOxNGuIVRpA3u6oFeK8rsE90KfAYAuBvQFtpGzI/s4096/297740330_424309079490602_7926109644188697022_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgr3phnXDt-h5cT0bmwn3vAB5HTGMoiQyrQfusHDG-ZFZqVa_JDiU-tD1BfrxIUaDlrDz36T490DYYk5ZOh0_NDyS-W9P9BPz_6ObtVar_K-vmwq7Ossm3W0XjusPx3pmotfdF39tAIgHlPxwbloOxNGuIVRpA3u6oFeK8rsE90KfAYAuBvQFtpGzI/w426-h640/297740330_424309079490602_7926109644188697022_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QTzuxZJy5XVP7NGrj1SmvbM8TYhabeFtbAFdu856dvAT59PDmvsekuvIfADCKAlLegnr-wapNyzLNmXssyPURJtTKQAt9Mcsq7p_wois3enMEO_EJAXhZzGTK9NoMVumf1jkPA-175LuDcytH3jG2BrO6KN0cJjrW4VqEYwWUX6TRbFUz2KXbJ0M/s4096/297298437_611620377046203_3322523907661897151_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2731" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QTzuxZJy5XVP7NGrj1SmvbM8TYhabeFtbAFdu856dvAT59PDmvsekuvIfADCKAlLegnr-wapNyzLNmXssyPURJtTKQAt9Mcsq7p_wois3enMEO_EJAXhZzGTK9NoMVumf1jkPA-175LuDcytH3jG2BrO6KN0cJjrW4VqEYwWUX6TRbFUz2KXbJ0M/w426-h640/297298437_611620377046203_3322523907661897151_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: justify;">Outfit Details</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">60s dress / found in Italy studying abroad in 2015</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Earrings / thrifted</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I turned 29 in Montauk on Monday. 💗 I decided to take a solo trip on my own to Montauk for a few days over my birthday. Usually I rely on others to help my birthday feel special but I wanted to take it into my own responsibility so I could make my birthday full of my favorite things. I found just spending a quiet, low-key day with myself and connecting with those closest to me was just what I needed!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">This is my third summer spending time in Montauk and it reminds me a lot of Ohio. Montauk for me has always been a place for me to reflect, disconnect from social media and <i>reconnect </i>with myself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">One of those ways is through photography! I shot outfit photos for so many years for this blog and in more recent years haven't continued to practice that passion. I've been re-discovering it lately and man, it feels good. Shooting with a DSLR has helped me feel more creative and passionate about creating something again. I didn't realize how much I missed finding a location and building an outfit around it to tell a story.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I felt proud of these photos and loved taking them. Reminded me of how I used to race against the sun for that perfect golden hour light before it disappears. Ignoring the bug bites, dripping sweat, smeared makeup to just to keep trying to get that perfect shot. Honestly, it's worth it every time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">With much love, Lauren</div><p></p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-81958560362193263672022-07-28T22:10:00.004-04:002022-07-28T22:12:23.915-04:00Loose Ends<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-86FWMaFsNLDePV9qgDkKf2s-rwoA6XSnsYZk3h7RltNSEONjhfowdBMWbhDXCfw2lLkdknVcUKQYEMY822F2TEyuOA3QaWZVEGiVE7bdoUUh37PVeDYWep4_lVaBgCKlVyfKTE86uUfHFcCzMzPse0VPQXL9UIwUoOTG67Q1jjioQ_2VGBbt-qvm/s1440/295688132_616768713094608_6124571286804307398_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="954" data-original-width="1440" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-86FWMaFsNLDePV9qgDkKf2s-rwoA6XSnsYZk3h7RltNSEONjhfowdBMWbhDXCfw2lLkdknVcUKQYEMY822F2TEyuOA3QaWZVEGiVE7bdoUUh37PVeDYWep4_lVaBgCKlVyfKTE86uUfHFcCzMzPse0VPQXL9UIwUoOTG67Q1jjioQ_2VGBbt-qvm/w640-h424/295688132_616768713094608_6124571286804307398_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>I've felt this pull lately and I'm sure you've felt it too. To go back to how things were before social media. </p><p>It's kinda funny. I fell into my career in social media because of this blog. It fostered in me a love for digital community, mixed with my passion for thrifted and vintage fashion . Having found so much joy in this community online and the relationships I built over the years led me to believe that I should turn a career out of it. Isn't that what we all kinda do? Whether it's what we physically produce (like art) or the way we think (analytically), we take what we're good at and decide: "Hey, let's turn this thing that makes me happy into a thing that makes me <i>money</i>." I don't know. I've rarely heard them both exist simultaneously well together.</p><p>I enjoy working in social media. It's a flexible career that is always changing and involves a lot of creativity, which I enjoy. But at the same time, I can look at how doing it professionally impacted the way I viewed the way I do it for pleasure. </p><p>I rarely just create to create anymore. There's always a level of expectancy to my work. I know the importance of including hooks for my videos, cropping my photos to the golden ratio, integrating key words so I turn up in organic search, posting optimal times to reach my audience. Nothing ever feels...unintentional anymore. Even photo dumps, meant to feign <i>oh-my-god randomness</i>, are still these highly curated glimpses into what we want people to believe (or not believe) about our lives and who we are.</p><p>Is it possible to share ourselves online that is not in some way, curated to how we desire others to see (like) us?</p><p>When I started my blog in 2009, it was just me sharing into the abyss. Its purpose was solely for me to share things that excited me. I looked forward to taking pictures of my outfits every day after school because photography and fashion were hobbies I was newly exploring. I don't even think anyone read my blog for at least 6 months, so worrying about how people might perceive my posts never crossed my mind. It probably should have. :')</p><p>I guess a lot of discovery periods are like this. You don't have data that's either good or bad in your brain to compare to-- you're only just starting something. It's always fun because you move forward quickly and then fall back just as quickly as you begin to learn.</p><p>But once you become more established, you feel like you should be farther along than you are or if you're like me, that maybe you're not <i>as good</i> as you once were. I often look back at photos I was taking in 2013 (nearly a decade ago) and think: "How did I do that? I wouldn't be able to now."</p><p>Overtime I've felt like a trifecta of:</p><p>a) turning a passion into a profession</p><p>b) over-contemplating how I'm perceived</p><p>c) comparing myself to my old self</p><p>...has killed my ability to be really, truly authentic myself in what I create. I don't think it's the algorithms I'm tired of. I'm tired of myself. It wouldn't be as disappointing when a photo performed like shit if it was one I loved and was proud of. Instead, satisfaction in my work feels dependent on external performance instead of my own internal feelings. </p><p>Maybe I'm always starting hobbies (and remaining mediocre in the ones I abandon) because I'm running from my own disappointment in myself. Or fear of disappointment, sometimes.</p><p>Is it even possible to get back to creating without expectations in a modern world of social media? I felt like that's what I was trying to do with this blog and re-starting it. But even after a few posts, I started placing pressure on myself to perform and come up with systems of success for this new venture. I got scared I wasn't creating compelling posts, so I just didn't post for 6 months instead. </p><p>This entry is a mess but maybe that's what I need. I create end results that others want to see, but don't always make sense to me. This is a loose end that doesn't have a knot tied right now. </p><p>With much love,</p><p>Lauren</p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-7658725847355453322022-02-19T23:46:00.002-05:002022-02-20T11:21:25.167-05:00Am I Too Sensitive For the Internet? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjosT9VAN21xdBmVA825X1TKC1To1gyqJrYX7R5MNNBlEbiEAmrrS6-czj6keU6t83jNx4P3dKMmRJBleeMK1hwaJR58rfrjpzCCbUV256C5Np4ORh7G6uQVZXNLAkutF6tohqHO8nXeq3IIkbjeaVJZ0lsSquvoFhETMUlSM07WRK1v4z1yI_-Iel9=s1347" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjosT9VAN21xdBmVA825X1TKC1To1gyqJrYX7R5MNNBlEbiEAmrrS6-czj6keU6t83jNx4P3dKMmRJBleeMK1hwaJR58rfrjpzCCbUV256C5Np4ORh7G6uQVZXNLAkutF6tohqHO8nXeq3IIkbjeaVJZ0lsSquvoFhETMUlSM07WRK1v4z1yI_-Iel9=w514-h640" width="514" /></a></div><br /><p>I remember back in the peak of blogging public enemy #1 for me was GOMI, or get off my internets. If you have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about, it's probably for the best, but I'll explain what it was.</p><p>GOMI was kind of like the Diet Prada of the 2010s to roast tone-deaf bloggers and the wild shit they would do. The actual blog was pretty good, and I found myself checking it weekly and reading the gossip about so-and-so. A quick google search and it seems like the site is still up and running, doing the Lord's work. Where the fun ended for me were the forums which were like a reddit where you could start threads about different bloggers. I thought it was the worst thing in the world to have people saying shitty things about me, but if I read back on them 12 years later as an adult I'd probably agree with most of the sentiment about teenage me lol. I was a little self-righteous ass-hole.</p><p>I'd prefer this kind of behind-your-back shit talking to what it is now where people just write what they don't like about you directly to you. At least I could choose whether I wanted to read it instead of having it forced in from of me unwillingly via a comment or a DM.</p><p>I've always been sensitive. Too sensitive. I might even classify myself as a HSP (<a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/highly-sensitive-person" target="_blank">highly sensitive person</a>). I cry when I'm angry, sad, hurt, scared; you name it. I feel a lot of things and at certain points in my life it feels like a positive: but, recently it feels like a weakness.</p><p>I get that I'm not for everyone. I even irritate myself sometimes. But in the last 3-4 months or so, I've noticed this increase of people having a negative thing to say about the topics I talk about or the way I choose to live my life. </p><p>The social media manager in me tries to take myself out of the picture and look at what's happening from a macro POV. Accountability for Internet personalities has risen the last few years and continues to. As it should, to a reasonable extent. We demand more from the people we follow & give our social currency (which translates to $$$$) to and sure, we'll forgive a mis-step here or there...but one too many and it's a full-blown cancel. </p><p>Platforms like TikTok thrive on authenticity (the opposite of Instagram's aesthetics-based machine), and it's allowing more people to open up about personal topics. Which should be a positive! Mental health, self-esteem/appearance, relationships...I know for even myself personally when I come across a video on my FYP that has the person speaking to me in a realistic, friend-like way, I'm more drawn to them. We form a <a href="https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-a-parasocial-relationship-5210770" target="_blank"><span style="color: #b45f06;">parasocial relationship</span></a>, or a "one-sided relationship that a media user engages with a media user engages with in a media persona." Sometimes because we see someone and think we 'know' them because we know their internet persona, we believe we can say anything we want. You can, but it doesn't mean you should.</p><p>I think <span style="color: #b45f06;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CaA24oIPxEJ/" target="_blank">this pos</a>t</span> from Nedra Glover Tawwab sums it up for me.</p><p>Whether I deserve individuals critiquing and correcting me about or if it's just a part of this weird shift in social media usage, both of them result in the same distressing emotions for me.</p><p>It's hurtful to look at my phone and the first thing I see when I wake up is a preview of a message saying something negative. </p><p>I think about it all day, obsess over it, feeling sick to my stomach. Are they right? Do other people believe that about me? I wonder who else thought that and didn't say it? Could I have provided more context? Should I go back and change my caption? Delete my post? Do I not talk about this topic any more? Am I being dismissive about their experience if I feel like what they said about me isn't true? Am I problematic? Am I annoying? Do people hate me?</p><p>I'll spiral all day and usually it ends in a bunch of frustrated tears because I hate disappointing people. When they're unhappy, I feel like it was my fault and I want to make it better, and that has been a habit I've carried with me in my romantic relationships, friendships and even work until there was nothing left of me at. I was just a patchwork quilt making up everyone else's thoughts but my own.</p><p>I've thought about this a lot and discussed it in therapy quite a bit, trying to process and objectively look at all the angles until they make sense to me. Where do I go from here?</p><p>The internet has always been my place where I come to express my feelings and maybe it can't serve that purpose for me anymore. I'm 28 now, not 16. I have so much admiration for those on the internet that continue to showcase their true selves and open up about the really hard parts of life. It makes me feel seen to witness others going through the same things I am. I always want to do that for others, too. But I can't continue to at the expense of my own mental health and well-being.</p><p>At the same time, part of me knows that whether I choose to put myself fully out there or hide parts away, there will always be negative opinions. Is it worth pulling back if it's inevitable?</p><p>Maybe it's more about balance. I'm always seeing things as black or white. All in, or nothing at all. Perhaps getting to a place of sharing less, but still sharing the important things that I'm not willing to compromise on is a better median. I think in the meantime, I need to continue to work through not taking everything people say about me so personally. It's just the internet. We all need to relax.</p><p>With much love,</p><p>Lauren</p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-51702878743882149642022-01-31T22:01:00.007-05:002022-01-31T22:05:54.316-05:00January Wrap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDVcGj6WaArjfMtKS-5QPTYtbNgwr0p7IMbqO7GyTQ-66zvfNevYyk2_o68gx2qdvWpEz02kc0rAN0SAaAmyXAKG8rAofR3Sesbivujh1x61_9d9o5k1f04MxZo5NOHVf1FaYFcf2GD1wTl-XIG1K67E2Z8eEfy52iduHqPFTTwL4q7ul1VHVh2GfX=s1347" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDVcGj6WaArjfMtKS-5QPTYtbNgwr0p7IMbqO7GyTQ-66zvfNevYyk2_o68gx2qdvWpEz02kc0rAN0SAaAmyXAKG8rAofR3Sesbivujh1x61_9d9o5k1f04MxZo5NOHVf1FaYFcf2GD1wTl-XIG1K67E2Z8eEfy52iduHqPFTTwL4q7ul1VHVh2GfX=w514-h640" width="514" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>January somehow always feel like the longest, most confusing month of the year. It's half in that lulled holiday haze of December, but then you're shoved back into reality at 100mph trying to start the year off on the right foot. Throw in seasonal depression and mercury in retrograde and it's always a hell of a ride. </p><p>I'm going to attempt (making no promises here) to write a monthly wrap at the end of each month of just some of my favorite things and favorite moments. Here's January.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSxX_HHlsTFyd3uPO8bOnZpXPlYDTsd9uEyz8TMPBpu1wqNnU3xxEXnUuXxFEzTYfgwv02484b5LA2RN5BugT9cPmT7Hsv2rqbMrjZZfECyuw5dhmZIs-pRwnQ2OkOagndN0xRoUKJp_LLcdSd27JyrGuFL8fSCZ301Ziz2FccjO4LVpPa8kTr_o7M=s1192" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1192" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSxX_HHlsTFyd3uPO8bOnZpXPlYDTsd9uEyz8TMPBpu1wqNnU3xxEXnUuXxFEzTYfgwv02484b5LA2RN5BugT9cPmT7Hsv2rqbMrjZZfECyuw5dhmZIs-pRwnQ2OkOagndN0xRoUKJp_LLcdSd27JyrGuFL8fSCZ301Ziz2FccjO4LVpPa8kTr_o7M=w430-h640" width="430" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;">What I felt:</span></h3><p>My month was separated out half in Ohio, half in NYC. It's always so hard to come back, and I've become accustomed to the emptiness I tend to feel when I leave home. I've been able to develop coping mechanisms to get me through that tough first week. The adjustment wasn't too bad this time around, and I was able to get myself in a good rhythm of routine this month in creating, cooking, exercising, reading, and of course, working.</p><p>Despite perhaps my highest productivity yet, I felt very burnt out. When things in my professional or personal life still felt chaotic despite my best attempts at creating beneficial systems to help myself, I felt like giving up. What's the point of trying *so hard* for everything to still be a fucking shit show? </p><p>I'm really working on continuing my productivity (and positivity) systems into February and not giving up. I hope making progress on this will eventually allow me to feel less overwhelmed with my life.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEJS8y-efwKDXZez0lbEhUSoT3wmLdGrHW91GMWC8FDNE1hfKk_xAtbgrUeb5MGIwx9grzijamIVsel9CjGQ_GKsAQRFi8sWlLLMYXm5Il-f_pS93ODtRlVGjfYuQkwHgIrt1jcMPhziBDuJPcMZ57wJCln99-BVKSc7_h2iHnAMONsES6UqVb2W6s=s1394" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1288" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEJS8y-efwKDXZez0lbEhUSoT3wmLdGrHW91GMWC8FDNE1hfKk_xAtbgrUeb5MGIwx9grzijamIVsel9CjGQ_GKsAQRFi8sWlLLMYXm5Il-f_pS93ODtRlVGjfYuQkwHgIrt1jcMPhziBDuJPcMZ57wJCln99-BVKSc7_h2iHnAMONsES6UqVb2W6s=w592-h640" width="592" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I was proud of:</span></b></h3><div>I've never, ever been a morning person. But I was finding that starting my days waking up 5 minutes before my first meeting of the day wasn't uhhh, super effective. So, I made an intention to start waking up earlier this month after getting back to NYC and it's been really great! I'm not up at 6 or anything yet, but even waking up at 7:45-8:00ish every day has helped me tremendously in setting my days up for success and getting a moment to myself before I begin the craziness. I attribute going to bed at a decent hour to my ability to get up lol. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also made an intention (they're kind of like resolutions, but softer. read more <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYm0L6crkLc/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">here</span></a>) to find movement 3x a week. Consistently moving my body the last few months has been a priority that has fallen to the wayside. I've had some issues in the past about being obsessive with my working out, so I wanted to keep the <i>kind </i>of movement open and just find it 3x a week. I've kept my intention and I've been feeling great. A lot of yoga and some sessions back at the gym weight lighting. My ass hurts. </div><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I struggled with:</span></b></h3><div>I struggled this month with people's opinions of me online and their criticism. I've gotten to the point where I feel like I can hardly share anything online without being met with a sharp word or unsolicited opinion about what I'm doing. It's left me feeling exhausted and honestly fearful to share anything personal on Instagram or TikTok. Which makes me sad, because I never feel quite like myself sticking to surface level things. It's kind of why I've come back to the blog. I feel like this space is less seen by most people and I can more freely share what's on my mind.</div><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I wore:</span></b></h3><div>Lots of fun outfits this month, despite it being January! I've been making it an initiative to get dressed every day working from home, and it's been fun to flex my creativity. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was inspired by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CY-CYAfB8lo/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Audrey Hepburn's style </span></a>a lot this month (probably the pixie cut) and also played around with <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYr94-CLitz/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">70s styles</span></a>, which is new for me! One of my reads this month, more down below, inspired me to explore 70s looks a bit more. </div><div><br /></div><div>I started a new series on TikTok breaking down my outfits, <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@passingwhimsies/video/7056476253179825454?is_copy_url=1&is_from_webapp=v1&lang=en" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">this one </span></a>casually garnering 190,000 views which is pretty wild. </div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I read:</span></b></h3><p>I finished up <a href="https://www.greenlightbookstore.com/book/9780593189481" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Wintering</span> </a>by Katherine May which was a good read on finding rest in retreating during hard times. I think I needed to read something like that for where I am right now, but also a great book I know I'll come back to. </p><p>I also finished <a href="https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/fifty-years-of-fashion-new-look-to-now_valerie-steele/565280/item/7976130/?gclid=Cj0KCQiAi9mPBhCJARIsAHchl1zATb1NGAcDB7-Hdj55943viwRVdzwYVJ1w4KrTdHbdt84ahfiQRz8aAuunEALw_wcB#idiq=7976130&edition=5718300" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">50 Years of Fashion</span></a> by Valerie Steele which I've had on my bookshelf for years at home ad never read. I forgot how much I enjoyed reading and learning about historical fashion and it really lit a spark within me to continue cultivating my knowledge in this passion! </p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I watched:</span></b></h3><p>Fun fact about me: I love trashy TV. At the end of the day, I don't have much of the mental capacity to concentrate on a show, so I enjoy watching mindless things that make me chuckle.</p><p><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/81341222" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Hype House</span></a> was about the TikTok content house full of 20-year olds that I actually really enjoyed and found fascinating, although a lot of other's didn't enjoy it. I work in social media so I think there's some personal interest there for me.</p><p>Other trash I really enjoyed: <a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80241027" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Too Hot Too Handle Season 3</span></a>. The show is absolute ridiculous but somehow I still fall in love with the characters and their development every time.</p><p>For movies, I watched Girl Interrupted for the first time (holy FUCK Angelina!!!) and re-watched Chocolat. Definitely on an old-movie kick right now. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkvwD1kByNR8HvpE4N4eocNAXFL5cfRmluFmHMSJmELGdRgH26kOIE_UZlGH-QW3GqwZkSvAvGDuxxcvdmT-_I1YzM2kit_3Zj-ERNjTLB-c-c4i6qykbe58Dka9f_yaOSUBK-wycan83Z06CKBzcuPNkoN4z8rnRL5PuAoWzyyCqDLUBJQurNjuih=s1096" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="974" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkvwD1kByNR8HvpE4N4eocNAXFL5cfRmluFmHMSJmELGdRgH26kOIE_UZlGH-QW3GqwZkSvAvGDuxxcvdmT-_I1YzM2kit_3Zj-ERNjTLB-c-c4i6qykbe58Dka9f_yaOSUBK-wycan83Z06CKBzcuPNkoN4z8rnRL5PuAoWzyyCqDLUBJQurNjuih=w568-h640" width="568" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSOhjeGCOvOL4114KO5YZGYbPystDSr3ps0pE053svDN3YxG7TZlHj1iIWSYRuzIeMP2KUxTb_yQdiwEN2OZvfO0cXGLk0yzJk1XbxoJW4GzolYwodlrq6HZI3R_dvldEjcJQZFNO0faHoJGVLRTEN7UcNrdi2BawVVZiuzzxtHYC594W5FnSJAcTT=s1368" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="1294" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSOhjeGCOvOL4114KO5YZGYbPystDSr3ps0pE053svDN3YxG7TZlHj1iIWSYRuzIeMP2KUxTb_yQdiwEN2OZvfO0cXGLk0yzJk1XbxoJW4GzolYwodlrq6HZI3R_dvldEjcJQZFNO0faHoJGVLRTEN7UcNrdi2BawVVZiuzzxtHYC594W5FnSJAcTT=w606-h640" width="606" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I ate:</span></b></h3><p>Fixed a lot of salmon. Up until last year, I'd never had it but it's really been my go-to, easy weeknight meal I've been fixing at least 2x a week. </p><p>It felt so good to get back to the NYC food scene and all the amazing restaurants here. </p><p><a href="https://www.oleabrooklyn.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Olea</span></a> continues to be a favorite of mine - I got braised short rib special and mulled wine.</p><p>Tried <a href="https://www.miriamrestaurant.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Miriam</span></a> for the first time! Chicken Snitzel was A+++.</p><p>Visited my old stomping grounds of <span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="http://stonefruitespresso.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Stonefruit Espresso</span></a> </span>and remembered why it used to be my absolute favorite. The apple chai bundt was to die for.</p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I listened to:</span></b></h3><div>Podcast wise I started listening to The Mindset Mentor. Really loved this episode on '<a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/i-want-you-to-do-this-every-morning/id1033048640?i=1000548101035" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">What to do Every Morning</span></a>' and '<span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/are-you-making-life-harder/id1033048640?i=1000547871412" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Are You Making Your Life Harder?</span></a>'</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Been on a <a href="https://delwatergap.net" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Del Water Gap</span></a> kick something bad. Would love to see him in concert in 2022. </div><div><br /></div><div>Wanting to get into records (have been for awhile....) and currently shopping around for my first turnstyle. Will let you guys know when I pull the trigger on one!</div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">What I bought:</span></b></h3><div>Biggest purchases this month were items at the <a href="https://manhattanvintage.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Manhattan Vintage Show </span></a>! I like to go once a year to drool over every thing and sometimes purchase. This time around felt a little different. Usually I'll talk myself out of items I love: "It's too expensive! You have no where to wear it!" This is really hard for me. Sometimes I think I don't deserve them or it feels frivolous, but the reality is I never buy 'new' clothes aside from thrifting, and even if I did, I probably would pay close to the same amount as these vintage pieces....so why not? You can see what I got <span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CZXvgIHBdSC/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">here</span></a>.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers to February!</div><div><br /></div><div>With much love,</div><div><br /></div><div>Lauren </div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-32804608031373094422022-01-23T11:43:00.003-05:002022-01-23T11:43:53.378-05:00Lineage <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji-5zTm65fu5XDCgxWI-PVeR_vF6w_sFx0dr-dH1x2HabJQ2k-ov_P8Fn1H87h3CO7Y7Z-tv45ZIgpGGW6F0TPvqXUKGODS0uWXbfJPgIu1b02_IMPUAfYEqN97DyVIvWtMNheAAk7qRUixWcGovxPtbRphcC3zcTftmruk0A7B_6Lzw9S7XD98mg3=s1027" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1027" data-original-width="772" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji-5zTm65fu5XDCgxWI-PVeR_vF6w_sFx0dr-dH1x2HabJQ2k-ov_P8Fn1H87h3CO7Y7Z-tv45ZIgpGGW6F0TPvqXUKGODS0uWXbfJPgIu1b02_IMPUAfYEqN97DyVIvWtMNheAAk7qRUixWcGovxPtbRphcC3zcTftmruk0A7B_6Lzw9S7XD98mg3=w482-h640" width="482" /></a></div><br /><p>When I was home in Ohio for the holidays, this theme of lineage and traditions kept coming to mind. </p><p>I think the holidays are perhaps the time of year when most of us have the fondest memories of childhood. It brings about things our parents or grandparents would do for us every year that solidify in our mind and we reflect back on many years, often decades, later. </p><p>For me, it's baking sugar cookies with my maternal grandmother. It was always a multi-day process. </p><p>Creating the dough from a scratch recipe that was passed down from her mother and letting it chill overnight in those big, primary colored Pyrex mixing bowls (funny I now have my own set). </p><p>Rolling out the dough and picking out the shapes from the drawer of metal cutters -- a star, a candy cane, a Santa, and a reindeer (a bitch one to frost with all its little curves). </p><p>Watching them puff up through the glass of the oven and removing them to cool. I was always sneaking one to eat before frosting, to me they tasted best when they were warm. </p><p>Mixing up the powdered sugar for homemade icing and choosing which bottles of food coloring we needed to attempt some colors. </p><p>Frosting with a curved butter knife and turning green with envy over the way my grandma was always able to smooth the icing so perfectly while mine gooped over the edge.</p><p>Finishing it all up with the many different sprinkles from my grandma's collection and ALWAYS putting an eye on the reindeer. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkwerysvURuptxbCRblOs91QyefAx4x3w642uYlWb0luIZB4Zybb-OLkvug32dCuIeuwVzONDh6nu1WZyFQhtuAPpgxitP8ierc4t74JtuwpyDMI7yjti3NAwi9n7xishcaRFz6HiDp0D9fKQKflQGVBpgSz6O4IW4TqdOGMUon2mmRneQGmDGM20E=s3088" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3088" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkwerysvURuptxbCRblOs91QyefAx4x3w642uYlWb0luIZB4Zybb-OLkvug32dCuIeuwVzONDh6nu1WZyFQhtuAPpgxitP8ierc4t74JtuwpyDMI7yjti3NAwi9n7xishcaRFz6HiDp0D9fKQKflQGVBpgSz6O4IW4TqdOGMUon2mmRneQGmDGM20E=w640-h424" width="640" /></a></div><p>Another thing I really reflect back on is my grandma's tree and the ornaments she put on it. Her living is room small, the tree was always narrow and tall -- the opposite of ours at home. She made magic with the tree, filling it with her snow baby collection and accents of red birds and berries. But the ornaments I always admired most were the old ones. Three stick out in my mind.</p><p>The velvet elf with the teal outfit, a sweet smile and full cheeks. A tag with 'made in Hong Kong' on the bottom. </p><p>The velvet reindeer that was red with little white spots.</p><p>The carousel that had a little fan that twirled with the air from the heat register came up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyJUapY0OHuzH_4e-CxGHPKh0_J0ccUt1BRIinf6DJWxsJjiPt8vU-IVhqTVFsLJZUwKRUEJT78LYKZyeFkp64eRpcwUCZdlkEoLoI6yo_GY9EFGydYJdsnJINkcX6tjMgakAIH2FdZX7nXr3DIRV-7GpdqlFQiUHFo0McIckhMAV5bqwxqs3QM3gh=s1176" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="1176" height="606" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyJUapY0OHuzH_4e-CxGHPKh0_J0ccUt1BRIinf6DJWxsJjiPt8vU-IVhqTVFsLJZUwKRUEJT78LYKZyeFkp64eRpcwUCZdlkEoLoI6yo_GY9EFGydYJdsnJINkcX6tjMgakAIH2FdZX7nXr3DIRV-7GpdqlFQiUHFo0McIckhMAV5bqwxqs3QM3gh=w640-h606" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCb8qI9kTbGr2YJhDGZaofCF9bLByJViZf0YXxpvgLVL4Afb7K3BTa-VOYdwTxlw1WdGYwYRbwAqjSfffYeF_FLUaTD7NBZOuvSNlm12vU5uuj4p8gfxOq4-NmDf8OPfgU4g5av8rwZdVKq90g0EbMrYwth5gDWI-hDqWMmbgppbbmj7mIgJYFN47F=s818" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="818" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCb8qI9kTbGr2YJhDGZaofCF9bLByJViZf0YXxpvgLVL4Afb7K3BTa-VOYdwTxlw1WdGYwYRbwAqjSfffYeF_FLUaTD7NBZOuvSNlm12vU5uuj4p8gfxOq4-NmDf8OPfgU4g5av8rwZdVKq90g0EbMrYwth5gDWI-hDqWMmbgppbbmj7mIgJYFN47F=w640-h588" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>I had my first real tree in Brooklyn this year, a little 4.5 footer bought at the bodega on the corner of Atlantic Avenue right by the Salvation Army. I'd been adamant about finding vintage ornaments for it that could carry on some of that nostalgia and tradition that I felt at home and my grandma knew that. She gifted me this year the prized velvet elf I've loved for so long. I can't wait for it to be the first one I hang up next year.</p><p>While I was home, she gifted me something else. Two aprons that my great-grandma Nellie wore when she baked. </p><p>I never met my great-grandma, she passed before I was born, but I'm always told I would have loved her. She was tiny at 4'11" and had 6 children (my grandma the youngest) and loved to bake. My grandma has always said she wishes that she had some of her hats and gloves that they donated when she passed because I would have loved them. ❤️</p><p>I picked up baking during the pandemic as a way to pass the time but to also self-soothe during such an anxious time. I'd been looking for an apron to wear during my baking adventures, so having my grandma gift me some my great-grandma wore is beyond special.</p><p>I hand washed them last weekend to bake an apple pie wearing one in her honor. You can watch the video <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CZCzPdhBKmt/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</p><p>Honestly, it was emotional thinking about how she wore this same apron and made things for my grandma and her siblings when they were younger, now all in their 70s and beyond.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgW0hskK4Xr88R3-0STMRdPrZGM3Xe92G8VLuiZFJixDMx8kpGzUjw94bpsLxGh-eUiYy6a_cJRHDw8BbfY7o31x7B72bvAP2q1PorXeBoH6anEVrnsN3qsEfrjLknfEWboRTqBgFpzLcSy13dHYVoX4V0WGFM8jZtGC0dN66xmtfXxQc4UCvvgFRNP=s1270" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1270" data-original-width="1006" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgW0hskK4Xr88R3-0STMRdPrZGM3Xe92G8VLuiZFJixDMx8kpGzUjw94bpsLxGh-eUiYy6a_cJRHDw8BbfY7o31x7B72bvAP2q1PorXeBoH6anEVrnsN3qsEfrjLknfEWboRTqBgFpzLcSy13dHYVoX4V0WGFM8jZtGC0dN66xmtfXxQc4UCvvgFRNP=w506-h640" width="506" /></a></div><p>It brought up a lot of feelings for me. </p><p>One, just the general feeling of homesickness for family and connection. I've been in Brooklyn now five and a half years and I think it's kind of like processing a death. It gets easier, but the sadness never really goes away. Every time I go home, I'm reminded and comforted of what it means to have and be a family. They take care of me and love me. The sacrifices my mom and dad make for me, even at 28, aren't lost on me. </p><p>It also made me think about how easy it can be to forget the generations before us, and that makes me so sad. I don't know much about my great-grandparents on either side and know nothing about my great-great. That's only four generations removed. I am able to be who I am today because of them. I'm sure traits and mannerisms have been passed down to me that I'm not even aware of because I simply don't know. It makes me want to know them more intimately in order to carry on their memory.</p><p>Last, it made me think about the own lineage I'd like to continue. I could write multiple posts about my feelings (past and present) about my decision to have or not have children. It's always been a difficult topic for me and my opinions on what's right for myself have shifted over the years. In more recent, I've realized that I do want kids in some capacity, and in this recent re-connection to some of my ancestors, it further solidifies that I want to continue passing down traditions and meaning to future generations. </p><p>Lots of jumbled thoughts in this post, but they're all somewhat interconnected to the idea of keeping memories and traditions going. I think it gives such deep meaning to our lives to carry on purpose outside of just ourselves. x</p><p>With much love,</p><p>Lauren</p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-15391567871466033362022-01-17T22:16:00.008-05:002022-02-06T10:18:28.838-05:00On Moving On <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjoUYfcyQ98Ua4OzRXsR7ZvWme7uxHweC8hB5t_FiVJm051HzX9FL1mX89nqrEA8UJtxBWLRw6OoiWstXWLT8aE-Tc1lOFuWUCBKbzLg70RBQ9eMnKjju_QgeaXHhPXNVi6FKhz8uD1giuZnly6yI365gxjwR6Exd0-4otc-K01jKVVW6YiKTeujLp=s2036" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1598" data-original-width="2036" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjoUYfcyQ98Ua4OzRXsR7ZvWme7uxHweC8hB5t_FiVJm051HzX9FL1mX89nqrEA8UJtxBWLRw6OoiWstXWLT8aE-Tc1lOFuWUCBKbzLg70RBQ9eMnKjju_QgeaXHhPXNVi6FKhz8uD1giuZnly6yI365gxjwR6Exd0-4otc-K01jKVVW6YiKTeujLp=w640-h502" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I started therapy in May of last year after a really hard breakup.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">They're all hard for different reasons, but I think this one hit in particular because it exposed a lot of patterns of mine that I realized if I didn't fix, I would continue to find myself in similar situations with similar results.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I can objectively look at all four of my relationships and see I wasn't my true self in any of them. There was a semblance of who I was, but a big part of me was always hidden away. Part consciously, part unconsciously. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">At the core of my personality I love to adore and please people. It makes me happy to see them happy, so what was pushing aside my desires every once in awhile going to hurt?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">If it made them happy to watch an action movie instead of a retro film, that was ok. It was just compromising</p><p style="text-align: justify;">If I chose to hang out all weekend at parties with their friends instead of my preferred one-on-one downtime, that was ok. I was just being a good girlfriend.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">If they preferred me in something modern instead of a thrifted vintage look, that was ok. I was just making sure they found me attractive.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I would go months, sometimes years doing this. And a lot of times, I knew I was compromising a little too much. It gets to a point where it's gone on so long that you don't feel like they'll accept you if you aren't that person you've always been offering.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">So. I started therapy to work through my "self-esteem problems," as my therapist shared with me, in one of our early sessions. We discussed a lot about why I was afraid to ask for things and what would be the worst case scenario if I did ask for them. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That my partner would leave. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes they did anyways.</p><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">But what could my relationships look like in the future if I wasn't afraid anymore that--</div><div style="text-align: justify;">a) I was too much </div><div style="text-align: justify;">b) I was asking too much </div><div style="text-align: justify;">c) They were going to leave </div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">My relationships instead could be:</div><div style="text-align: justify;">a) More fulfilling </div><div style="text-align: justify;">b) More freeing</div><div style="text-align: justify;">c) More mutual </div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Timing for life changes is never really what we expect. I'd been single for a year between my last two relationships, so I thought it would be at least that long this time. I wasn't interested in getting back on a dating app or even just putting myself out there for casual flings that summer. I was really just focused on re-finding myself again and utilizing all the time I'd spent in the relationship to nurture my own passions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had reconnected with an old friend from back home who had always somewhat been a missed connection over the last nine years. I met him with resistance to anything romantic, and I put up a wall that he continued to throw grapple hooks over to get up to the top. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I figured I could use this as a test case of putting into practice what I was learning in therapy. I felt like I didn't really have a lot to lose by being open about what I wanted and what I liked. He knew who I was, so there was no need to impress. And we weren't in a relationship, so if he walked away, it was no harm no foul. I would go back to doing me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It all came easily. There was no resistance to the things I wanted. They were usually even met with a mutual desire. It felt so freeing to relay my needs for once instead of stuffing them away. It wasn't even just my needs, but my emotions. I'd always been so afraid to express when something made me sad or angry or hurt -- I didn't want the other person to feel that way, too. Instead, I opened up the communication and was surprised when the conversations helped build a more solid, genuine understanding of him (and myself). </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a lot of guilt in starting something new not so long after the end of something else. I guess I hold myself to arbitrary "one year" rule because that's what I've determined is the appropriate time to heal and be in mourning to the general public (i.e. social media protocol). Again, leaning on the help of my therapist (shout out to V), we talked through how healing can look different from person to person and there is no appropriate "time period" to wait after a break up. I knew I was ready when I felt ready, and I think part of the reason I was able to move on within a half a year was not because there was a new partner in front of me, but really because I started putting my needs on the table *alongside* my partner's for the first time. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This last weekend I shared the new relationship on le socials. I wanted to share a small, inimate moment that made me happy after months of hiding things. What should have felt happy just caused a lot of anxiety because of how others might take the post.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"She moved on so fast."</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Jumping to the next one I see."</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Did she ever really even care for that other guy?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"He's so different from her last boyfriend."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought about particular people in my life who might see the post and what they might feel, and there was a lot of guilt alongside that anxiety for what they must think of me. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have to remind myself: I am not a bad person for moving on. I am not a bad person for starting something new.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Isn't that what we all want after a breakup? To be healed and forgive and carry on with the lessons that we learned? Why can't I just let myself have happiness and why am I SO concerned with how others perceive me?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm still not there yet in living my life freely without the fear of judgement, but it's something I want to work through in the next few months. A big win for me was even sharing at all, because historically I've kept all my partners off my social media. A second big win was not writing a dissertation justifying it to everyone so I can beat them to the punchline. I just shared a moment that made me happy - it can be that simple.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With much love,</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lauren</div>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-49059543852338260742022-01-03T20:46:00.002-05:002022-01-03T22:25:33.229-05:00Hello Again ❤️<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxNvTw1vlaOtyM77V0wqnfQMgRNJR-0BEIKPnehdTRme2VkWD7esijlnz78ZbivyMSUb-9F6RSyRSMEcb4oH37zy4Xo-cCQ-F1-2gnJyV1uKzssFCVK2Jb1SYf8PBV0eK7uYJD7x6onmTpdP3ovUnovP4eUvAjRLCoW5yQLS9Em4MhhfBV38684HIG=s1347" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxNvTw1vlaOtyM77V0wqnfQMgRNJR-0BEIKPnehdTRme2VkWD7esijlnz78ZbivyMSUb-9F6RSyRSMEcb4oH37zy4Xo-cCQ-F1-2gnJyV1uKzssFCVK2Jb1SYf8PBV0eK7uYJD7x6onmTpdP3ovUnovP4eUvAjRLCoW5yQLS9Em4MhhfBV38684HIG=w514-h640" width="514" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hi. It's me. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Another three and a half years have passed since I last wrote here and before that, two years. I never stopped thinking about this space through all of the changes in my own life and the platform trends that come and go on the internet. Recently, something inside me was compelled to come back to this space I started thirteen years ago. It feels like a home that has always stayed the same when everything around me changed.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was only 16 when I came to this space. My introductory post wrote:</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i></i></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">"I've wanted to start a blog for quite sometime now, but have been hesitant on how to, or when to start! I definitely know </span><strong style="text-align: justify;">why </strong><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">I want to start a blog though,that's not problem to figure out. My interest in fashion has grown over the past few years,and is still evolving and changing everyday! I want to track it's progress, along with all that inspires me in my personal style!"</span></i></span></blockquote><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The innocence of this introduction makes me smile. This was before the age of influencers, monetizing, affiliate links, sponsorships, amazon wishlists, Instagram, TikTok...I just wanted to be here, to document my personal style and share what inspired me. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My blog came with me as I moved through high school and then college, where I graduated with a B.S. in Fashion Merchandising and minor in Fashion Media, and eventually my move to NYC in the summer of 2016. My posting became more sporadic as new platforms took precedence and my life in New York kept me busy. After quitting my full-time job in social media with nothing lined up in 2017, I had all the time to re-dedicate to my personal work here and dove in again with vigor: a re-name (bye Someone Like You, </span>hello<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Passinwhimsies.com), redesign, SEO-friendly posts, shopping features, widgets galore. Instead of feeling professional, it all felt commercialized and posting here felt like a chore I dreaded instead of a safe space to come home to. After a few months of trying and a new job opportunity that I took, I quickly fell off again.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That brings us here, to January of 2022. Why come back now after all these years and blogs having been declared "dead" by most of society? They haven't evolved with everything else. Logging back into this platform, all of the graphics and layouts have more or less stayed the same since I was last here in 2009. There are no fancy features to be rolled out or grandiose marketing plans to make this the next hot spot of the internet. It has existed, and will continue to exist, as a simple writing and photo sharing platform. Video be damned.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I miss the simplicity of these times and I guess I'm a glutton for nostalgia. Leave it to TikTok to be the site that didn't drive me towards the trends but away from them. I found myself in 2010s nostalgia-tok, where so many people were sharing what they loved about the internet in the good-ole-days of Blogger, Lookbook, Polyvore and Modcloth. I'd been thinking about these sites for a long time, poking around the graveyards of previous spaces I would spend hours on every day.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Even outside of the nostalgia, I'm kind of just tired of it all. I still work in social media and between the professional and personal work every day, it all feels overwhelming to keep up. I've been churning out content every single day on Instagram, trying to take advantage of "YOUR opportunity to grow is RIGHT NOW!!!!" or whatever growth marketing YouTube video I find myself being sucked into. The optimization of video content has sky rocketed so Instagram can keep up with TikTok, and despite my introversion, I've taken to posting videos consistently in order to 'beat the algorithm.' It works. I gained 2.5k followers on my dying Instagram for the first time in over 2 years. All I ever wanted was 10K, but when I hit it, I thought I would be satisfied. I wasn't, I still needed to keep pumping out content and keep up with the Kardashians of Instagram and the D'amelio's of TikTok. It was stuff I wanted to put out, but just maybe not so much, so soon...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then last week I dropped my phone in a lake. Long story. It was ruined, and I was left like an addict itching for their next fix to see if anyone had liked my latest post, if my ex's mother had watched my Instagram story, if I finally was starting to see growth on Tiktok after painstakingly posting every day for the last 2 months. Slowly, I've been able to wean myself off of the constant, habitual urge to check my<b> </b>performance of, well, everything. I've gotten to read more than I have in years, bake delicious treats, spend time with my family (fully!), and -- take naps. At first the lack of what I deem "productivity" just about killed me. I was falling behind, ruining my favor in the algorithm and perhaps everyone was going to forget about me?!?!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fucking bat shit crazy. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I just want to write again what's on my heart: the things that make me happy and that bother me and not worry about if my hook isn't interesting enough or if the post is too long or if I swear too much. I want to share outfits again without it taking hours to create alt text for my images so they turn up in search or come up with a clever SEO headline. I want to share them because they make me happy, and proud, and just like years ago, I want to see how I change. That's been my favorite thing about whatever this internet presence I've cultivated over the last 13 years has been. That I've gotten to be with my younger self again: experience what she was going through and put myself in her shoes (literally) through what she wore.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know how often I'll be here. Or if I'll come back again. But I know this is the place I always want to come back to when I want to find myself again. So here I am.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">With much love,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lauren</span></p>SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-74255514082560481492018-10-16T22:37:00.001-04:002018-10-16T22:37:21.937-04:00Life Updates <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgjP-K7xPNG99YK4jgMRLLV0scnGubAKJEsxMO4cUchXXrOAW-sC9xdkKd_3Wqgo2rlPsQhnvRszqXM-n9t-jUE4qK6-WZiS-ZS6oc0JvBylXT20CAGwR5mohfZOoJMJzKZYJRoaMKH4/s1600/42913364_318417892275920_4231249948630319104_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgjP-K7xPNG99YK4jgMRLLV0scnGubAKJEsxMO4cUchXXrOAW-sC9xdkKd_3Wqgo2rlPsQhnvRszqXM-n9t-jUE4qK6-WZiS-ZS6oc0JvBylXT20CAGwR5mohfZOoJMJzKZYJRoaMKH4/s1600/42913364_318417892275920_4231249948630319104_n.jpg" title="Plaid Blazer for Fall | Passingwhimsies.com" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I found myself disappearing again (thankfully not for two years this time), but this little blog remained on my mind. When I last wrote in June, I was getting ready to embark on my solo trip to Ireland, and was still searching for a job after leaving my position in the beauty industry. It's hard to believe this was only a few months ago because so much has happened in-between, but that's just how life works. The day-to-day seems to go by so slow, but when you look back on time it goes unbelievably fast. I am grateful that I'm no longer unemployed because it was a highly emotional, tumultuous time where I often felt like I had made the wrong decision to leave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking from the other side now, thankfully things happened to work out, but it wasn't anything to do with happenstance. I had to put my fears on the back burner and buckle down to do what I had to - find that job. When you're in a position of compromised comfort, it allows you to truly cut all the bullshit because you simply have no other choice. I was running out of money for rent. My trip abroad was coming closer and I was worried I may not have enough money to still go. And I think the biggest push for me was the unsurmountable mountain of shame and guilt I felt, but that I also felt I had brought on to my parents.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK1_JECGw7JMXDEzBat8-6M0iCZVzkXmaVtKXxvy6NM-J7XGdSpdiUtcGDQOV89qzbD-ADZl7ZO8ebLH3I_li61WKFyfxedfd28IX7XjcLsxk7-wrGVdRrsoU7simj1NQGIrGdyHUN4U/s1600/42897571_457371981418997_5799114338262319104_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK1_JECGw7JMXDEzBat8-6M0iCZVzkXmaVtKXxvy6NM-J7XGdSpdiUtcGDQOV89qzbD-ADZl7ZO8ebLH3I_li61WKFyfxedfd28IX7XjcLsxk7-wrGVdRrsoU7simj1NQGIrGdyHUN4U/s1600/42897571_457371981418997_5799114338262319104_n.jpg" title="Styling a plaid blazer for fall | Passingwhimsies.com" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's now been nearly three months since I started my new position. As difficult as everything was, every decision proved necessary as a stepping stone for the life I want to build for myself and the career I want to grow into. Surprisingly, I wouldn't have done things any different if given the chance, but I definitely don't want to do them again in the future. But, you just never know where life will take you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since starting my new social job at Gap, immersing myself every day in fashion has reinvigorated the love for what this blog developed nearly 9 years ago. As I've taken my time adjusting to the new job, I've still been creating a lot of content over on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Instagram</span></a>, but I have really missed long form writing and photo sharing. Trends in social networks fade in and out (RIP Vine), but for me at least, blogging is an irreplaceable platform that will never go out of style.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSaJI6H-UUkj0XSoaIMah2ItZB37SRVstQ0drRbYsYarriMgDwWP9finylfX395eOQpv6LaMAr_wjQSvcKamPZw_hcUX-GVDGaVytdwYLIZxYX3Dn59nOyjgvRfKT2o7BEntvZkaE4_M/s1600/42926003_183439699218770_373882778632060928_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSaJI6H-UUkj0XSoaIMah2ItZB37SRVstQ0drRbYsYarriMgDwWP9finylfX395eOQpv6LaMAr_wjQSvcKamPZw_hcUX-GVDGaVytdwYLIZxYX3Dn59nOyjgvRfKT2o7BEntvZkaE4_M/s1600/42926003_183439699218770_373882778632060928_n.jpg" title="How to style a plaid blazer women | Passingwhimsies.com" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a comfort over the years to always find this space waiting for me right where I left off, just like an old friend welcoming me back. It always feels right. It always feels good. It always feel like a part of me is whole again. Excited to share as inspiration or contemplation comes (and inevitably goes). Hoping to also really focus on the quality of posts rather than quantity - something I've been pondering on a lot lately.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other than my new job, I also travelled to Ireland for 11 days (more on that to come!), visited Ohio a few times to see family, started an <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/PassingWhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Etsy shop,</span></a> signed on for another year at my Brooklyn apartment, an booked a weekend trip to stay in the mountains upstate with my boyfriend for October. Life has been good!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">How have you all been? Leave me a note down below to what you've been up to the past few months! I would love to hear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Outfit Details:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">blazer thrifted | jeans aeropostale | blouse forever21 | purse thrifted | heels thredup</span></div>
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SHOP SIMILAR BLAZERS<iframe frameborder="0" height="402px" seamless="" src="//shopsensewidget.shopstyle.com/#/?options=%7B%22widgetId%22%3A%225bc69e57646e85de15ea64c5%22%2C%22version%22%3A1%2C%22pid%22%3A%22uid7049-31876757-27%22%2C%22size%22%3A200%2C%22columns%22%3A3%2C%22rows%22%3A1%2C%22url%22%3A%22https%3A%2F%2Fapi.shopstyle.com%2Fapi%2Fv2%22%2C%22iframeHeight%22%3A402%2C%22iframeWidth%22%3A660%7D" style="border: 0;" width="660px">
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SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-54680458581874679972018-06-17T23:19:00.015-04:002022-01-03T21:53:20.214-05:00Secondhand First <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3oNBuc-jNtwd-rqWVtQC69H7vbgnXhDJ0RgvML4Q9ksbwE2UIbtk-mTa9FUxLtNgIian0YrVOQOp79DapZSVn5p5E1Op8Qgkv1dxODM0yUigv8LVFfH5fojfluksMCD4Obdod98TTHJM6301KzKb3uPbvm_QVtqEMsK6Y0lSWgHjbfn_zPmi2R8Mp=w512-h640" width="512" /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiRBy4ouRVm-SIsuBKjrebnBLxd1tucE8Qg_gDuh0q5bANnTWAsQqcLoTP2Sx_PBCu5CTxx7ArKzSMkN9TVrws4PU0TknCm-DzwpCC97mryeDRZxsDng8J4cDi8TXoFVPGeqT6zmjuM6hSjK3WLsHtERdQkzTmtmIq1kq5mSPZkTriRfpHj-AcWolV=s1349" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1349" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiRBy4ouRVm-SIsuBKjrebnBLxd1tucE8Qg_gDuh0q5bANnTWAsQqcLoTP2Sx_PBCu5CTxx7ArKzSMkN9TVrws4PU0TknCm-DzwpCC97mryeDRZxsDng8J4cDi8TXoFVPGeqT6zmjuM6hSjK3WLsHtERdQkzTmtmIq1kq5mSPZkTriRfpHj-AcWolV=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div>Secondhand clothing has always been the glue that holds my personal style together. Since I was 16 years old, I've looked to thrift stores, church rummage sales, estate sales, auctions, and consignment stores to drive the inspiration behind why I dress the way I do. Shopping secondhand has never been something I was ashamed or embarrassed by, and I personally couldn't ever understand why others viewed it that way. I wear clothes that someone else already wore? Cool! That gives my wardrobe a rich story, my style a unique twist, my community a voice, and my earth a second chance. Ain't nothing shameful about any of that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/35464437_1830606120315769_7894245951286542336_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=bbd0f22fa88411998b22e822aa4cb683&oe=5BA68158" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/35521336_1830606033649111_6417741434505396224_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=eaefba6a282b96a8e7d3886511da03db&oe=5BBD71FE" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout the years, this blog has always been one part a way for me to document my personal style evolution, but also (I hope!) a platform that helps redefine misconceptions about shopping secondhand. Since recently focusing on my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Instagram</span></a> and blog more, I really wanted the things I cared about and am passionate for to be the center of what I shared. I've been starting to post more try ons at the thrift store, styling hauls, completely thrifted OOTDs, and hope to soon share other accounts in the thrift community that inspire me! Through focusing more on this type of content, the response from you guys has been so unexpectedly wild. I've received so many messages from followers who were inspired by my tips, and went out to thrift for the very first time! I've also had people tell me I completely changed the way they thought about second clothing, and they're now obsessed. Nothing make me happier or feel more fulfilled that helping others discover the magic of secondhand shopping!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/35646557_1830606073649107_4932481979078672384_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=edc44692f28d2396f87b7c20e010693d&oe=5BAC9A4C" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Something I'm really excited to dip my toes into and share my first time experience with you guys is online secondhand shopping! In-store has always been what I'm most comfortable with and I don't shop online <b>at all</b>, so this concept has really intrigued me for awhile now. The kind people at <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/AAMHAI" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">ThreadUP</span></a> recently reached out to see if I wanted to select some pieces to try on and style. I made a challenge for myself to create a full look with the $30 credit they gifted me, and this is what I came up with!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just like thrifting, you have to start with an idea of what you're looking for because ThreadUP receives over 15,000 new listings A DAY. No wonder they're known as the largest online thrift store! I knew I wanted an easy dress I could throw on for the hot days ahead, so I selected this paisley <span style="color: black;">midi</span> for only $13.99. Hats are also a huge style staple for me to spice up a minimal outfit, so I chose this grey felt </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">rimmed hat for $12.99. To finish off the look, I cinched my waist with a grey woven belt for only $1.99, and I came in just under $30.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The whole process was super seamless and I would actually be really interested in investing in some name brand pieces for less next time I shop with ThreadUP. I really enjoyed how you could narrow down by brand, and they had some of my favorites like Madewell, Dooney and Bourke, and Coach for less. If you would like to try ThreadUP yourself, <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/AAMHAI" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">visit through here</span></a> and receive $10 off your first order!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/35519810_1830606143649100_1612157214829576192_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=996796cc23e3ae11555465f683c5eda7&oe=5BA5D6BF" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/35515031_1830606000315781_6541021207947378688_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=a2c6116b82fad0a57b6d2215f510f651&oe=5BA627EC" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to share my experience with you guys because I <i>really </i>loved the idea of a more tailored online secondhand experience for those of you who get overwhelmed with traditional thrifting. <b>What are your thoughts?</b> Do you enjoy traditional secondhand shopping or the online option? I'd love to hear!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love, Lauren</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Outfit details: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">dress c/o of <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/AAMHAI" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">ThreadUP</span></a> | hat c/o <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/AAMHAI" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">ThreadUP</span></a> | belt c/o <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/AAMHAI" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">ThreadUP</span></a> | coach purse thrifted | sandals forever21 | necklace thrifted </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Disclaimer - I was not paid in partnership with ThreadUP, but they did kindly gift me store credit for these pieces. All thought and opinions (as always) are my own!*</span></div>
SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0Brooklyn, NY, USA40.6781784 -73.944157940.4854094 -74.266881399999988 40.8709474 -73.6214344tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-53414295238554798952018-06-13T19:12:00.023-04:002022-01-03T22:08:00.788-05:00Maturing My Personal Style<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xC6WjEI2BGDU6X-pOaybTjofzVD5s1YOYlWclUO5tVPwI86ABK4DREBwxRmi1k0SZ8GKt66CwzM6U45A39dSlF3aHBg5Inbvrc4VOER6BHMON-AQB73N3MQmy2ahCu4l3S6KmoN1heg//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xC6WjEI2BGDU6X-pOaybTjofzVD5s1YOYlWclUO5tVPwI86ABK4DREBwxRmi1k0SZ8GKt66CwzM6U45A39dSlF3aHBg5Inbvrc4VOER6BHMON-AQB73N3MQmy2ahCu4l3S6KmoN1heg/w512-h640/33934051_1440478656056399_8489583029021310976_n.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_eE6dTHrkIxe6N4V2jNX6AkLrBu8Son0GNue-oVAxhwfmJmm8horwQdV9Tb2YbaeYKJM93cjIbWU0n26W0tClwKmS9xyLOSOgDzYjjM5Z8vqMbdfLxajgpBuQ1X7G2XSQamGVcXn14Bs//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_eE6dTHrkIxe6N4V2jNX6AkLrBu8Son0GNue-oVAxhwfmJmm8horwQdV9Tb2YbaeYKJM93cjIbWU0n26W0tClwKmS9xyLOSOgDzYjjM5Z8vqMbdfLxajgpBuQ1X7G2XSQamGVcXn14Bs/w512-h640/38800018_1000597430132747_4437176996065181696_n.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">For those of you who have followed me throughout the years, you know my style has changed a lot overtime. From authentic vintage outfits in high school, to more twee-style dressing in college, it took me awhile to find what exactly my personal style was when I moved to New York. Vintage will always be a part of my style no matter what age I am or where I'm living. Although I enjoy traditional shopping in ready-to-wear stores, nothing gets my heart beating quite like a trip to the thrift store. </span></span></div><div class="shopsense-widget" data-mobile-optimize="true" data-options="%7B%22widgetId%22%3A%225b1757d6e7055a51bb29a469%22%2C%22version%22%3A1%2C%22pid%22%3A%22uid7049-31876757-27%22%2C%22size%22%3A200%2C%22columns%22%3A4%2C%22rows%22%3A1%2C%22url%22%3A%22https%3A%2F%2Fapi.shopstyle.com%2Fapi%2Fv2%22%2C%22iframeHeight%22%3A275%2C%22iframeWidth%22%3A920%7D" style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the last two years, I've really wanted to start developing a more mature and refined style for myself that is still reflective of my love for vintage, but definitely does have nods to modern style. Living in NYC can be incredibly inspiring to see the world's best fashion right there on the street in front of you, styled by everyday women. It can also be incredibly disheartening because I don't have unlimited budget, and a lot of these fashion-forward pieces may not flatter my best assets. What's a good middle for being inspired, but not letting the inspiration make you feel bad about yourself?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/34463172_1816262628416785_6638596860548218880_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=d9dea00843774d5aa7f40a94c60def47&oe=5B828C03" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; border-image: none; border: 0px rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I would say the perfect medium looks something like this outfit here! This is a very NYC inspired outfit -- neutral colors, simple shapes, and the ability to look effortless (even when you put in a hell of a lot of effort). All the items in this look aside from my shoes are thrifted, but still have an elevated polished look to them. This dress in particular has been a piece I've reached for over and over throughout the years since thrifting it. I've worn it <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BIJHDziDFuj/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">styled classic here</span></a>, with a little bit of a <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BGW8K_qG5fv/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">cool edge here,</span> </a><span style="color: #000120;">and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BEUAfD7m5R6/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">retro inspired here</span></a>. </span> The look I'm wearing in these photos may just be my favorite yet...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With an oversized boyfriend blazer, this look could easily be worn to the office in the morning, then paired down with no jacket in the evening for a dinner date. I'm finally at the point in my life where I understand the need for versatile, multi-use dressing. All those magazine articles I read growing up must have stuck!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hope you all are having a great week so far. If you aren't already, come follow along with my week on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Instagram</span></a>. It's been a busy one so far with three interviews and another one to go tomorrow!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love,</span> <span style="font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-69694360202595153932018-06-03T12:16:00.001-04:002022-01-03T21:22:45.418-05:00New York City Eats- Taiyaki, Smorgasburg, & Van Leeuwen!<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBQPLqF9dd5Epa6CYWAT9fQvCKzOHRTH1govJhei2yzwQOpp3-6jm3rHxobSYmecXtlfWcS-ESi7FQdK5pcsdnraOFfH4yJXMsn8keIeF2Kt0nXkklrHvfN3uwaHFzwJafPwZ0zoRvEk/s1600/taiyaki.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Taiyaki NYC" border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="752" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBQPLqF9dd5Epa6CYWAT9fQvCKzOHRTH1govJhei2yzwQOpp3-6jm3rHxobSYmecXtlfWcS-ESi7FQdK5pcsdnraOFfH4yJXMsn8keIeF2Kt0nXkklrHvfN3uwaHFzwJafPwZ0zoRvEk/s1600/taiyaki.png" title="" /></a></div>Happy Sunday all!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope it's been a lovely weekend so far for you. Mine has been quite...<b>filling</b> to say the least! New York City has endless options of foods & sweet treats, and I seemed to have taken advantage of all of them at once this weekend. Friday <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BjgLX0HD9Ju/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">I celebrated my 2 year </span><span style="color: #bf9000;">anniversary</span></a> living in New York City with one of my absolute favorite treats -- <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BjiFuTxDLCj/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Taiyaki</span></a>! A Taiyaki is a Japanese dessert that features a fish-shaped waffle with ice cream piled inside. The NYC location has delicious flavors like matcha and black seasame, or traditional American flavors like vanilla and chocolate. <a href="https://taiyakinyc.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Taiyaki</span></a> is a must visit if you're coming to the city!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On Saturday I went to <a href="https://www.smorgasburg.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Smorgasburg</span></a>, which is a food festival hosted in Brooklyn every weekend during the summer (Williamsburg on Saturday & Prospect Park on Sunday). There's over 100 vendors carrying all sorts of food varieties -- there's too many to list, so see them all <a href="https://www.smorgasburg.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">here!</span></a> Smorgasburg is another place I highly recommend if you're visiting the city. It's a great way to try many of the top eateries in NYC all in one place. Plus, there's a simply stunning view of Manhattan to enjoy while you eat! Yesterday I got jerk chicken dumplings with a pineapple sauce, then topped it off by splitting mozzarella sticks with my roommate. Still can't get over the seasoning on those! </span><br />
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<img alt="Smorgasburg" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/34268626_1813819615327753_3541945132557271040_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=d7706167dc5c1912eed084b43abe8fff&oe=5BC3D1FD" title="" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, I tried the infamous <a href="http://www.vanleeuwenicecream.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Van Leeuwen</span></a> ice cream in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Van Leeuwen is a cult-favorite here in NYC, known for using fresh ingredients and having a robust selection of vegan ice cream. Locations can be found throughout Brooklyn & Manhattan, but all the ice cream is made in Greenpoint! I tried a single scoop of the peanut butter and marshmallow crunch and man oh man... it may have been the best ice cream I've ever had. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="van leeuwen ice cream in greenpoint" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/34307658_1813850268658021_102355491639787520_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=17de333d4f60f65fa6af694231c52a78&oe=5B81B545" title="" /></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-size: large;">Today, I'm definitely taking a break today from all the heavy eating and hoping to simply relax & get some work done! I'm excited to share these outfit photos with you all that I took last week, featuring this beautiful vintage handbag. I found this vintage macramé bag during my last visit to Ohio for $2 at my favorite store, Volunteers of America. This bag features stunning handwoven macramé and a really unique wooden handle. I actually set the bag down too hard a few week back and snapped the handle in half -- I was devastated! Luckily, a little bit of wood glue did the trick & the bag was back in business. I've been finding a ton of lovely vintage handbags recently in my thrift adventures -- looking forward to sharing them with you all soon!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love, Lauren </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>outfit details:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">dress thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LwJt" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>)| bag thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LwIZ" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar from UO</span></a>- comes in black) | headscarf thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LwKd" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) | <a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LwJV" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">heels old navy</span></a> - also comes in black!</span>
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SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com1Brooklyn, NY, USA40.6781784 -73.944157940.4854094 -74.266881399999988 40.8709474 -73.6214344tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-54945323622370511752018-05-31T14:07:00.001-04:002022-01-03T22:20:30.389-05:00Planning My 11-Day Solo Trip to Ireland!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLMbu5NnokWAaC1oZW63WBTV7dv3vlFhkH82Xjeh2UebQi3xqFQG3imqHLYr_ZmACQGwrnt6iGPmP1eDisuAi8IXv45Ae-iOzOKSdVO7lnlofxPEvcM66sCG_c4kpmiZecv652CkQ2o7AHsrgg0Y08-HU9HbCX_1Pe9Q2XNY_ghMv0EB7Eqp_y610V=s1350" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLMbu5NnokWAaC1oZW63WBTV7dv3vlFhkH82Xjeh2UebQi3xqFQG3imqHLYr_ZmACQGwrnt6iGPmP1eDisuAi8IXv45Ae-iOzOKSdVO7lnlofxPEvcM66sCG_c4kpmiZecv652CkQ2o7AHsrgg0Y08-HU9HbCX_1Pe9Q2XNY_ghMv0EB7Eqp_y610V=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you follow me on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Instagram</span></a>, you know awhile back I announced that I will be going on my dream solo drip to Ireland next month! <a href="http://www.passingwhimsies.com/2014/12/ireland-snapshots.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">I visited Ireland</span></a> when I was <a href="http://www.passingwhimsies.com/search/label/Italy" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">studying abroad in Italy</span></a> in 2015 for a quick weekend trip that has left me dreaming of a return for three years now. It was the place in Europe I really connected with, and it instantly gave me the feeling of being at home. This is something I similarly experienced when visiting NYC for the first time, so you never know what may happen in the future!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My last trip to Ireland was so brief that I only really got to see Dublin for a day, and then parts of Galway and the Cliffs of Moher in another jam packed day. I knew that if I were to ever return to Ireland, I wanted to really see not just the main cities, but also the rolling landscapes and beautiful countryside that the country is known for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It took me over a year of saving and a lot of guts, but I booked the flight for June 28th and will be in Ireland 11 days until July 8th. This trip means a lot to me because it's something I saved and dreamed about, but it's also a time for me to discover things about myself in this transition period I'm going through. I'm not a naturally adventurous person, so to book this solo trip for a week and a half was a real leap of faith for me. I'm nervous, but also so incredibly excited! Let's get into my itinerary. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Days 1-3 | Dublin</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I budgeted $2,000 for this entire trip, but do have wiggle room should any issues arise. Most of this is going towards plane travel, although I was able to get a fairly good deal on my flight at $750 round-trip since I'll be departing from a major airport (JFK) and straight into Dublin. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I booked myself Airbnbs for all of my housing while in Ireland. It's a wonderful way to keep costs low, but also enjoy a true Irish experience by staying with a local! I'll be spending <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/19054426" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">two nights in Dublin</span></a> to really explore and just sort of relax before the true travel portion of my visit starts. I'm looking forward to exploring by foot, & don't have any specific sights to see since I've been to Dublin before. I <b>am</b> planning though to go on this <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/180111?location=Dublin%2C%20Ireland&source=p2&currentTab=experience_tab&searchId=de093d1c-6803-4ca4-b6bc-afa57ee0d585&federatedSearchId=a86d77d3-ba3e-4372-81c7-3e3fa5e1a1fc&sectionId=88db3c3f-bf29-4f1b-9caa-28c80c0d1f00" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Dublin Fashion tour </span></a>which highlights the best vintage and consignment shops in the area. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 4 | Cork</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is where the real adventure starts! I'll be driving for 5 days in Ireland so I can see everything <b>on my own terms.</b> Even when I was studying abroad, I would often forgo tours because I didn't feel I got to experience the country in an authentic way. To say I'm nervous to drive in Ireland is an understatement because they drive on the opposite side of the road! I'm hoping to get use to the driving after a day or so, and plan to just take my time. As a note: even in Ireland the age to rent a car is 25. I'm 24, and I am finding it difficult to locate dealers who will rent to me. It is possible, but I'll have to incur an extra charge for being underage. An international drivers license is not required for Americans, but you have to have held your American license for at least 2 years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll be vising the <a href="https://www.cashel.ie/rock-of-cashel/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Rock of Cashel</span></a> on my way to Cork and then stopping in their downtown area for lunch and to sta<span style="color: #bf9000;"></span>y the night. I also booked my <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1661080" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">housing on Airbnb</span></a> for this night, and I'm very excited because it's actually a local bed and breakfast. </span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 5 | Kinsale & Killarney</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm planning to wake up bright and early to visit the lovely town of <a href="https://www.kinsale.ie/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Kinsale</span></a>, which I hear is super lovely and quaint. From there, I'll be driving through Killarney for lunch, and hoping to reach the Lakes of Killarney by early evening. From my research, this area and the <a href="http://galmeetsglam.com/2016/06/gap-dunloe-dingle/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Gap of Dunlough</span></a> looks so phenomenal. My trip for the first few days is flexible, so if there's a lot to see I can always continue exploring this area through day 6. </span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0cJcYP-Z88d499PbPRc0-PWPj9RylLaQVRqeUbkyoV-Fjs7YUEM9OUiN7Numvk2SXaFghRG_W4shMPr1rrPl_jrLBsaRhaJyaMvRPTji6z0MnJZETmr1Lz9sjr1mBv1FiMUFNU6pF1-Ux6Yt6rlhAFth5rglZqSsMixT_5jpuddHOssA5iWxZXhnQ=s1776" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1776" data-original-width="1418" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0cJcYP-Z88d499PbPRc0-PWPj9RylLaQVRqeUbkyoV-Fjs7YUEM9OUiN7Numvk2SXaFghRG_W4shMPr1rrPl_jrLBsaRhaJyaMvRPTji6z0MnJZETmr1Lz9sjr1mBv1FiMUFNU6pF1-Ux6Yt6rlhAFth5rglZqSsMixT_5jpuddHOssA5iWxZXhnQ=w510-h640" width="510" /></a></div></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 6-7 | Ring of Kerry</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I reserved two full days to drive along the <a href="https://www.ringofkerrytourism.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Ring of Kerry</span></a>, which is arguably Ireland's most scenic drive on the west coast of the country. I don't have any housing set up for these two days because I want to just drive and stop as I please, really taking my time to discover off-beat paths of the Irish Wild Atlantic Coast</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 8 | Shannon </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This day is mostly a travel day to get from the Ring of Kerry to the Shannon airport. Because I've already seen The Cliffs of Moher and Galway, I wanted to really dedicate the time to exploring other areas of Ireland that I hadn't seen yet. So, I'm flying out of Shannon to Belfast, Northern Ireland this day! My flight is super quick and was booked cheaply on <a href="http://kiwi.com/"><span style="color: #bf9000;">kiwi.com</span></a>. Ryan Air and Aer Lingus are also great airline options for cheap flights within Ireland. I'll be arriving in Belfast in the early evening, and staying in an AirBnb through the next two nights.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 9 | Giants Causeway</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of the must-have sites for me when planning my trip to Ireland was to go to <a href="http://www.giantscausewayofficialguide.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Giant's Causeway</span></a>. This natural phenomenon is a world heritage site of interlocking basalt columns that were caused by a volcanic eruption. Since I will no longer have my car to drive, this will be the only tour I book to take a bus up to the site and spend the day. This may be the biggest sight on my list I can't wait to see!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 10 | Belfast</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As my trip comes to an end, this is somewhat of another travel day before my departure back to the states. I'll be spending the morning in Belfast, then catching a Eurorail train in the afternoon back to Dublin where I'll spend the night <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/13271001" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">in a different AirBnb</span></a>. Since my train isn't until 2PM, I'm really hoping to get to explore a little bit of the Belfast City on foot! Please leave any recommendations you have. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">Day 11 | Dublin/Depart for home</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have an early flight out of Dublin directly back to JFK around 9AM in the morning so I can be back in the states Sunday afternoon. I was really lucky to get a flight through Finnair that is direct, so my time in air should only be around 7 or so hours. Not bad! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There you have it! My 11-day solo trip to Ireland. I still have a lot of planning left to do, but the base work is definitely all there. I'm at around $1650 through my budget with all travel expenses and housing booked, so that leaves around $350 for food, tours, and additional expenses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33924061_1810070229036025_1835510263139270656_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=bc7600e553a4606a57a4c40e06b0f9e4&oe=5B8345E5" /></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-size: large;">Please do leave any recommendations below for places to see along my route! I would love to hear them. Hoping to update you all again before my trip with what I'm packing, and will be documenting my journey on <span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Insta</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">gram</span></a> </span>if you care to follow along.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love, Lauren</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>outfit details:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">lipstick <span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LjuG" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">MAC L</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">ady Danger</span></a><span style="color: #bf9000;"> </span></span>| blouse thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/Ljo1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) | skirt thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/Ljsb" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) | bag thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LjsT" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) | sunglasses thrifted (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/LjpC" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) | heels old navy (<a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/Ljtj" target="_blank"><span style="color: #bf9000;">similar</span></a>) </span></div>
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<br />SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-70055654815163101422018-05-27T22:18:00.002-04:002022-01-03T22:11:25.874-05:00Lingerie As Outwear | Styling a Lace Bustier<div style="text-align: center;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlMAuHXZNnfUGZpvL13rRaqy6uTnbxNkQHZFW5clw4X1kaZWOPBQhpxBxolSX8XhhI6GdmR0r3G1zJXOeZQf429EaBvKxPpJygWGrfJUM-TFZ1pehPppqVW0lPO09at0n9aHBUYUf3uQP6N18zx8ve79GBtJSNbGRm8sMnIXCEE0r3_3owzmu0zr1S=s1269" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1269" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlMAuHXZNnfUGZpvL13rRaqy6uTnbxNkQHZFW5clw4X1kaZWOPBQhpxBxolSX8XhhI6GdmR0r3G1zJXOeZQf429EaBvKxPpJygWGrfJUM-TFZ1pehPppqVW0lPO09at0n9aHBUYUf3uQP6N18zx8ve79GBtJSNbGRm8sMnIXCEE0r3_3owzmu0zr1S=w544-h640" width="544" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGGieENsZEfP5M2aMIflyAiv_GfvMIFj8A2-GWn6w7mqebTtfaMq7SDHPS5dFDHnHawZw-8-kUVoE6cQrGBnH8bBz6eEGQOLnsAi0gHiCuUbMdHUoGIoo9W7PhmIUxhTqACZHP3QR6stNRqjL-Q80m1PI8czzpzWQoo3r-L6e0t71ecMyadsjosAf7=s1350" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGGieENsZEfP5M2aMIflyAiv_GfvMIFj8A2-GWn6w7mqebTtfaMq7SDHPS5dFDHnHawZw-8-kUVoE6cQrGBnH8bBz6eEGQOLnsAi0gHiCuUbMdHUoGIoo9W7PhmIUxhTqACZHP3QR6stNRqjL-Q80m1PI8czzpzWQoo3r-L6e0t71ecMyadsjosAf7=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXiQ6JtgV5_DS3hIwCI4i7_8z7-H0iM_ACLM6ACEo5SOw1am3P1jHR4I7gS9VI7_MMfrL3PTBn__ASeMIwmTU75JALlkgSs5ouoqEaNK9waBVQxFHLFSALh-bdDuPCJGSpPcQ-fQ1TZcAgPDe_qIfqcUXxb0GeKFSVbwL3TLA-VeiUaooCDfRFPeh=s1269" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1269" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXiQ6JtgV5_DS3hIwCI4i7_8z7-H0iM_ACLM6ACEo5SOw1am3P1jHR4I7gS9VI7_MMfrL3PTBn__ASeMIwmTU75JALlkgSs5ouoqEaNK9waBVQxFHLFSALh-bdDuPCJGSpPcQ-fQ1TZcAgPDe_qIfqcUXxb0GeKFSVbwL3TLA-VeiUaooCDfRFPeh=w544-h640" width="544" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: justify;">Hi everyone!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my favorite styling tricks I've done over the years is mixing in lingerie as outwear into my everyday looks. I started doing this trick in college after there was no stuffy dress code to abide by, and still do it today! When I was home visiting Ohio in March, I found the perfect vintage lace bustier that fit me like a glove at my local thrift store. I'm always coming across really beautiful bustiers and lingerie tops in the sleepwear section of the thrift store, but because I'm a size A cup with a little bit of a tummy, it can be difficult to find a perfect fit. Luckily I found this one that fit and it was only was only $.99! I know a lot of people are against thrifting lingerie/swimwear, but I think it can truly be one of the most underrated sections of a thrift store. Even seasoned thrifters don't think to check this area, so you can often find really nice quality and true vintage pieces.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since the panels and upper cups of this bustier are sheer, I wanted to feel a little more covered for the farmers market run I went on this day. I threw on my trusty denim jacket (also thrifted), to add a bit of modesty, but if I was going out later that night it would be easy to switch up my look.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BjQo7lFjuTJ/?taken-by=passingwhimsies" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">posted on Instagram</span> </a>a slide show of some other ways I've styled up various pieces of lingerie as outwear. Two of my go-tos: silk camis on their own or layered with blouses, and nightgowns over jeans! Below I listed some of my favorite bustiers as well because I know it may be annoying that you can rarely purchase the pieces I wear since they're all thrifted lol. Hope this is helpful, & thank you guys for reading along. I've got some exciting posts planned, so watch out for those soon. x</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love, Lauren</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Favorite Bustiers:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"><a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWAA" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Most similar to </span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">mine for $40</span></a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> | <a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWDN" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Lower priced for $19</span></a> | <a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWzE" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">White is beautiful for summer</span></a> | <a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWz4" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Love the fabric contrast</span> </a>| <a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWAA" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Body suit version for ease</span></a> | </span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://shopstyle.it/l/KWCh" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Plus option fro</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">m Charlotte Russe</span></a></span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0Brooklyn, NY, USA40.6781784 -73.944157940.4854094 -74.266881399999988 40.8709474 -73.6214344tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-36773318090592860972018-05-25T15:14:00.002-04:002018-06-09T13:53:51.037-04:005 Tips for Plant Beginners!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJl03EVQFi8Gkr84ipuapPDTzCv-5EDlFYpMYko7TYw-Klh-hUlStMBKrY7QCXn9EFTEB0bpBeCtHYpnA6VPlctI2jtFa0G2Zc7RGbjIlfu6MHNgmV3lgYWc1EmMUIY1V0v5vYMr9oR8/s1600/Plants+Tips+for+Beginners.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="986" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJl03EVQFi8Gkr84ipuapPDTzCv-5EDlFYpMYko7TYw-Klh-hUlStMBKrY7QCXn9EFTEB0bpBeCtHYpnA6VPlctI2jtFa0G2Zc7RGbjIlfu6MHNgmV3lgYWc1EmMUIY1V0v5vYMr9oR8/s1600/Plants+Tips+for+Beginners.png" title="" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">S<span style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span>omething I've truly developed a passion for since moving to Brooklyn two years ago is PLANTS! Living in the city, there's a serious lack of greenery sometimes, which is a far departure from what I grew up with in Ohio. Plants are incredible because not only are they beautiful, but they also offer many other benefits like air purification, protection from pests, and add an undeniable energy to your home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've learned a lot about what works and doesn't work as a new plant owner, and wanted to share my 5 tips for plant beginners and some of my favorite species with you all! I'm still learning as I go, so make sure to leave your recommendations down below in the comments. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">1) Select a plant based on your environment; not on how it looks</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is the hardest to follow (but most important!) tip I have. There are so many beautiful plants out there I love, and I've brought them home only to have them die a few weeks later because they weren't compatible with my living space. Every plant is different, and it's important before you select your first one to evaluate your home to see what sort of environment you have for a plant to thrive in. Gather information on the sort of light your home receives (direct, indirect, or shadow), the humidity (high, low, medium), the air, and the temperature. Speak with the plant shop owner when you're making a decision and share with them this information to help you make the best selection and give your plant the best shot to grow!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcijqK4swhoZ-_f7dlo_gAS5VXg5L-BFsmsz79P3ZPe-mU2oEEPQZLCCuRD3N9Gt86UYinbEnawgRLyunXe1GAKEQSQkuT4Mh5jDsN6aP1fQ2Rt7qcARyQ2UfgAj1POHgr8g_lGYolg_E/s1600/636628568752173557_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcijqK4swhoZ-_f7dlo_gAS5VXg5L-BFsmsz79P3ZPe-mU2oEEPQZLCCuRD3N9Gt86UYinbEnawgRLyunXe1GAKEQSQkuT4Mh5jDsN6aP1fQ2Rt7qcARyQ2UfgAj1POHgr8g_lGYolg_E/s1600/636628568752173557_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" title="" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Plant suggestion: </u></b>Snake Plant | sansevieria trifasciata</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Known for it's architectural, vibrantly colored leaves, the Snake Plant was one of my first plants & I've had mine over 2 years! These can be grown in any light conditions (even no natural light), and need very little watering (as the soil dries out or every 10-14 days). Wipe leaves with damp cloth periodically.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">2) Evaluate the plant's health</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, not all plants for sale are in good health. Some come from farmers or growers that don't take the proper precautions to protect again pests, fungi, or just promote general plant health. Things to avoid when selecting a plant:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">wilted looking, sagging plant leaves</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">shriveling or wrinkling (especially for cacti & succulents)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTpGIei4sLQAemBfufu-PEgJtY6HrfQGn2UoPO5tPBit896J2Z1Z3oxgbtnXWy7mJQbhqqDZBzQnLOkym2Mi27AnVPnjvgQWFuYk2dxG6TflLoZrRGIIUtdje536ywWBeY2wxWWcfJ8c/s1600/636628565704320841_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTpGIei4sLQAemBfufu-PEgJtY6HrfQGn2UoPO5tPBit896J2Z1Z3oxgbtnXWy7mJQbhqqDZBzQnLOkym2Mi27AnVPnjvgQWFuYk2dxG6TflLoZrRGIIUtdje536ywWBeY2wxWWcfJ8c/s1600/636628565704320841_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" title="" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Plant suggestion:</u></b> Pothos | epipremnum aureum</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A stunning plant that can be trained to grow upward, or down with long trailing vines. Pothos can be grown in low light and only needs watering 1x a week. Grows SUPER fast so it feels so rewarding to watch your hard work pay off! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">3) Hold off on repotting immediately after purchase</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know it's exciting to bring home your new plant baby and you want to give it the perfect new pot to call home, but don't repot straight away. A plant will already need time to adjust to the new environment you're placing it into, and nothing is more distressing than removing it from its already cozy home. To ensure the best possible plant survival, wait 1-2 months after purchasing your plant before repotting. If you want to hide the plastic pot new plants often come in, simply set it inside a slightly larger ceramic pot for the meantime. The only time it's really recommended to repot immediately is if the roots are sticking out from the bottom or starting to pop out of the soil. This means the plant is outgrowing its home, and it's time for it to move to a larger space. When choosing a new pot for your plant, size up 2-3 inches to ensure it has enough room to grow!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgnt_PGkwBMvN1rZNfwPsmzc74k6N2PN3nzdEDgVwbypl8E6TNRbnSXrDLsMWk0o0LAScUoewKAFt5JgjcZJJn5dU7-fJKO1tuF9lArmVi8ZTU5fkzn6PBU-TVEx7c1LeYA4PlNMbyb0/s1600/636628566560893466_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgnt_PGkwBMvN1rZNfwPsmzc74k6N2PN3nzdEDgVwbypl8E6TNRbnSXrDLsMWk0o0LAScUoewKAFt5JgjcZJJn5dU7-fJKO1tuF9lArmVi8ZTU5fkzn6PBU-TVEx7c1LeYA4PlNMbyb0/s1600/636628566560893466_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" title="" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Plant suggestion:</u></b> Rubber Plant | ficus elastic</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The shiny, almost 'rubber like' leaves of this stunner are beautiful no matter where you place it in your home. This plant is very low maintance and can grow in low-medium light conditions, with waterings every 10-14 days. In between waterings, make sure to clean leaves with a soft towel and water to allow leaves to breathe.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">4) Drainage, drainage, drainage!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For quite awhile after I first started purchasing plants, I couldn't figure out for the life of me why they kept dying. I was watering the appropriate amount, giving them enough sun light...what gives? After some internet searching, I found it was because none of my pots had drainage holes at the bottom. Having nowhere for the water to drain can cause the water to sit at the bottom of pot, which causes root rot of the plant. Always either purchase pots with a drain hole, or lay down 1-2 inches of volcanic rock at the bottom of the pot so the roots aren't sitting in stagnant water. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTzAYcHqnmzyvNLM1Iwx2iTObzxU1wwGgIiv6AQ7iwfMtaKdVV96gjL3SVwdcWh_1hWzVSz2sSh2XfI1aBztTQ6FQR8hEBvhnfWgmyGnqKXNkgt85jgW374OcH8u5ETZ79My2eUWitB0/s1600/636628569311438331_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTzAYcHqnmzyvNLM1Iwx2iTObzxU1wwGgIiv6AQ7iwfMtaKdVV96gjL3SVwdcWh_1hWzVSz2sSh2XfI1aBztTQ6FQR8hEBvhnfWgmyGnqKXNkgt85jgW374OcH8u5ETZ79My2eUWitB0/s1600/636628569311438331_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" title="" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Plant suggestion:</u></b> Aloe | Aloe Vera</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A type of succulent and can also be grown in a variety of environments. Aloe plants store water in their leaves, so water very infrequently and only a little bit at a time. Make sure to put rocks in the bottom, and for even better evaporation properties, put some on top of the soil, as well. Bonus: Aloe are great air purifiers! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: x-large;">5) Cliché but true; give them love</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I risk sounding like an absolute crazy person here, but the truth is the truth -- plants feed off your energy. They feel and take in the stresses of the environment, and definitely are reactive when you're not taking care of them properly. I live in one of the most stressful environments in the world -- NYC! There's a lot of honking, yelling, and noise at all times of the d<span style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font-size: medium;"></span>ay, but that's not necessarily what effects the plant. It's about taking the time to truly care for and love each new one you take under your wing. Watch and appreciate the little changes they go through on a daily basis; mist them if leaves are dropping before watering; move to a shadier spot if you notice the leaves are burning. Show kindness to your plant and it will reward you by growing!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYxydsOKJEgfd-mUyg0VnSkWQk76cgZ8z-YL7T-ugESwF9ZD4oK39FLmgLpqDw6STt3vaXB-ziCMF7KC5oAPBuqtDT7ZC6VniuXZSPEbL_Bci3ORBsd0qCedXZmO7O8UoKQucr4vS0ls/s1600/636628567746311412_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="5 Tips for Plant Beginngers!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYxydsOKJEgfd-mUyg0VnSkWQk76cgZ8z-YL7T-ugESwF9ZD4oK39FLmgLpqDw6STt3vaXB-ziCMF7KC5oAPBuqtDT7ZC6VniuXZSPEbL_Bci3ORBsd0qCedXZmO7O8UoKQucr4vS0ls/s1600/636628567746311412_Afterlight_Edit.jpg" title="" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Plant suggestion:</u></b> Swiss Cheese Plant | monstera deliciosa </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps my favorite plant I own and adds a wonderful tropical vibe to any home! These plants love <b>love</b> and when given the space, time, and environment to shine, they certainly will. Since this is a tropical plant, place somewhere that receives a lot of natural, indirect light. Water once soil becomes dry, and give regular mistings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hope you all enjoyed this little plant guide for beginners. x</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-43520842719121263392018-05-23T20:32:00.000-04:002018-06-09T21:51:15.225-04:00A Warm Welcome<div>
<img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33406949_1802515329791515_2432829214878072832_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=ada93db3492469fd5f06842b04911b65&oe=5B763F2A" title="" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You all sure know how to welcome a girl back -- thank you! I wasn't expecting many people to have stuck around after my hiatus, but I'm certainly glad you did. My favorite part about blogging has always been the community here and how supportive, kind, and wise every single one of you are. Wish I could give each of you a huge real-life hug, but for now a virtual one will just have to do. If you do find yourself in NYC though, you know what's waiting for you!</span><br />
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<img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33164895_1802515286458186_4049116839626670080_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=069a655da24860a9bd2e84779761684b&oe=5B7C14D6" title="" /></div>
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<img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33216366_1802515296458185_5479685976802459648_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=239f279b62fa26012f96a3e4b38721bc&oe=5B860A44" title="" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the last few days since my latest post I've slowly been making changes to out of date sections of this blog. One labyrinth of webpages even brought me to an old about section where I still had I was a teenager, ha. Mostly, I want to modernize this site to be more user & community friendly so it's easier to communicate with you all! It was a long time coming, but I finally updated my comment widget to Discus so now I can reply back to you guys & you can choose to receive emails about any follow up responses. I hope this is helpful! Feel free to leave any other suggestions to below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33118871_1802515356458179_122628669284810752_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=9ede477ac0981211fb26475e663aee1d&oe=5B81B8AE" title="" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33232485_1802515373124844_1518836341515747328_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=c13b3fb3a8a46e2c87314f75390116a7&oe=5B7F8CD5" title="" /></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-size: large;">I also truly considered about whether I want this blog to remain Someone Like You. I was only 16 when I created it, and obviously so much has changed since then. My original inspiration behind the name was from my favorite book by Sarah Dessen, but now years later the blog name seems slightly ill-fitting for the woman I am today. If I were to change my name, it would definitely be to Passing Whimsies, which is what I'm known on other places of the internet. I feel like this pseudonym is more 'me,' but I am still unsure if I could ever truly depart from Someone Like You. I plan to keep it for now and if it still feels out of place in the future, perhaps I'll look into re-branding.</span><br />
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<img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/33329541_1802515343124847_3418178756500520960_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=2b802af508207b41df999014760dabee&oe=5B958E5A" title="" /></div>
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<img alt="Parisian Inspired Outfit | Someone Like You " class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33311790_1802515309791517_648889384271085568_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=9783d77fa4a322b82135b8b40fe1cac8&oe=5B7C8CAE" title="" /><span style="font-size: large;">Finally, I'm really excited to start sharing some more in-depth content that will be helpful for YOU guys! In the past, a large portion of my blog has simply been sharing my OOTDs & writing my thoughts along with them. Although this is my favorite type of post to do & something I want to continue, I'm looking to branch out and push myself to do more topical posts that I find myself interested in. Aside from fashion, I love thrifting, interior decorating, plants, coffee shops, Brooklyn, and so many other things. I want to really highlight what I know of these things, and learn more about them from you guys in the process too! So if you've made it this far down the post (pretty impressive!), please do share any posts you'd be interested in seeing from me. I have some ideas, but I am always open to hearing more!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Can't explain how wonderful it feels to sit down this evening and type to you guys like this again. What a warm welcome home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lauren </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>outfit details:</b> dress vintage bcbg | woven basket purse thrifted | chiffon scarf thrifted | tan beret American Apparel | tan sandals F21</span></div>
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SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-26594142694399935932018-05-20T18:57:00.000-04:002018-06-09T21:51:31.509-04:00I'm Still Here<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/32974808_1800000226709692_3429714643520585728_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=00e2a352428aa1f582fcf6c89826179c&oe=5B8654ED" /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hey, remember me? I'm still here. Much the same as when I last wrote to you in November of 2016. Some things have changed, of course, but it feels almost like no time has passed at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I stopped blogging never because I wanted to, but because I had so much going on in my life at the time. When I last left you, I was starting a new job here in New York City as a social media coordinator for an incredible company. I felt like my life was finally coming together, and everything I had worked so hard for in school for four years and during those first 6 months after moving to the city had finally paid off. All I'd ever wanted was to make doing what I loved (social media) my full-time job -- it finally was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Over this last year and a half, I've grown so much personally and professionally, and it makes me sad that all of those small changes weren't documented on this blog. I learned how to be tough, even when I'm inherently not; how to stand up for myself, even when I feel weak; how to push myself to the limit; even when I didn't know I could go that far. </span><br />
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<img alt="" class="img" src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/s2048x2048/33092243_1800000213376360_6237465138648055808_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=ee048b20060f0468b6894f5733cbf9d4&oe=5B842E80" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Coming back to blogging has been on my mind for awhile now. I've continued to still take outfit photos and post them over on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/passingwhimsies/" target="_blank">Instagram</a>, but I still missed having a space where I could really open up. A part of me has been scared to get back to blogging because I feel so out of touch with this world. I'm no longer 16 and can write with angst about my life struggles. I'm nearly 25 now, and I want this space to evolve with me as I mature. I'm just not sure how. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I decided to come back though, despite not knowing the right way to go about all of this, because of a huge life change. I've always depended on my intuition to lead me through the choices in my life. I know that may sound silly to some of you who are logical thinkers, but I just can't shake the feeling of knowing deep down what's right. I've felt it at the big turning points in my life -- when I decided I wanted to go to school at Kent State; when I decided to take an internship in New York City; when I decided to move to New York City. Something in my gut for all of these huge life changes told me "Go, you must go for this. It's who you are and what you want and you'll regret it if you don't." I can't put my finger on the feeling, and it's not something I feel for every decision I need to make. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've felt this pull at my intuition for a few months now, and I tried pushing it away and thinking logically because well, I'm an adult now. Adults don't just make rash, risky decisions. I spoke with family and friends trying to get their opinions, hoping some down to earth advice would pull me back off the edge. Their words would placate my wandering mind for a little bit, but I just kept coming back to these thoughts and these wishes for myself. <b>If not now, when?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Something to know about me is that I often feel deep regret with my life. I'm constantly wishing I had done things different in my past that may have been uncomfortable at the time, but maybe now would have been worth it. Change is so terrifying to me, that I'll do everything to avoid it. Even calculated risks are often paralyzing to me. I knew though I didn't want to feel the familiar regret about not making the choice to pursue this side of myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Around 3 weeks ago, I made the decision to leave my full-time job. It's still shocking to me, and my last day was this past Friday. Tomorrow will be my first official day un-employed. I loved my job in social media and the company I worked for, but something still felt missing. I started to find myself wishing for the weekends because I knew I would be able to take outfit photos, read fashion magazines, and go thrifting for new treasures. As much as I tried to be reasonable with myself to continue with my job, I knew there were other things out there to fulfill my love for fashion in a way this position couldn't at this point in my life. I didn't move from my small town life in Ohio to New York City to settle. I want go for my wildest dreams whether that's doing social for a fashion brand, selling vintage part time, getting back blogging -- I don't know what it will be yet.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have so many conflicting feelings about still doing what is right (you need a job right now to survive, take anything!), and doing what I actually want to do (take your time, figure it out & wait for the right thing to come). I made sure to save up money so I could be financially stable enough to take the time to explore my options, but I still wake up every day though with fear in my heart about what's to come. I'm either really brave or really stupid -- not sure which yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The only thing I do know is I want to do something that gives me purpose & makes me feel fulfilled. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">With much love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"><b>outfit details:</b> top thrifted | skirt zara | shoes thrifted | beret thrifted</span><i></i></div>
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SomeoneLikeYouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00237214680800642077noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844733460276130832.post-77920085946034526052016-11-11T10:39:00.001-05:002018-06-09T20:58:51.914-04:00Rainy Day Attire. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Plaid Button Down (<a href="https://api.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=542184308&pid=uid7049-31876757-27" target="_blank">similar</a>) | H&M</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Black Fit and Flare Skirt (<a href="https://api.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=529671410&pid=uid7049-31876757-27" target="_blank">super similar for $35</a>) | Thrifted</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Red Rain Boots (<a href="https://api.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=543860215&pid=uid7049-31876757-27" target="_blank">similar from JCP</a>) | Walmart</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beanie (<a href="https://api.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=603504604&pid=uid7049-31876757-27" target="_blank">similar under $10!</a>) | c/o OASAP (old)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rainy days are my favorite. Growing up in Ohio, sometimes it would rain for weeks on end with not a hint of sunshine in sight. It was easy to be convinced that I lived in some well-known rainy place like London or Seattle, but no: just good old Ohio. Fickle and problematic weather since 1803. Since moving to New York City, the rainy days have been few and far between which makes my heart ache for my favorite comforting days back home. When rain is in the forecast for the week, all of my coworkers groan but I secretly give a little inner cheer. It's a time for warm drinks under colorful umbrellas. Splashing in puddles while briskly walking towards a destination, or sitting inside to watch the steady downpour. When talking rainy day comfort, it's impossible not to touch on rainy day attire. It can come in many forms. A laid back effortlessness in a chunky knit cardigan, thick leggings, knee high socks, and rain slickers. A sophisticated city-chic with a neutral trench coat, protective turtleneck, black slacks, and a chelsea boots. I wanted to make this outfit a combination of the two styles: fashion forward, but also comfy and utilitarian as well. I loved this day and I loved this outfit. Already planning outfits for the next rainy day New York blesses me with...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With much love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
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