Yep, it's been a while since I posted a quote and it's been a while since I posted period. Hey, life is crazy, people. We all know this and as much as I'd love to have a career just as a writer/blogger, such is not the case.
In the last month, I've spent about 3 weeks in the horrible cold and darkness of NYC and barely had time to see my husband or beloved dog…I mean, beloved husband and dog. Work is stressful, but we do what we can and sometimes we can't find the energy to write about a favorite product, place, or shoot a tutorial or outfit of the day.
We're posed with questions like, "do I spend some quality time with my husband or do I make him lug his camera around and shoot a photo of me wearing a new outfit?"
Or "do I take my dog for a well-deserved walk or do I think about what beauty products I've been obsessed with lately?"
So goes life, but I'm trying not to get down about it, even though I often do. I feel bad when I don't write a blog post, though I'm pretty sure no one is sitting around and thinking, "well, Nami failed to post a Sunday Styles again! She's so inconsistent."
I'm trying to be kinder to myself, to my life, and look my husband in the eye when we go out to dinner rather than Instagram a photo of the amazing dessert sitting in the perfect mood lighting…and this all brings me to today's quote.
It's two-fold. Firstly, I'm back in Los Angeles for a while and combined with the glorious Daylight Savings of this past weekend, I'm getting a much-needed dose of vitamin D. Very literally, I'm turning my face to the sun and the shadows, both figuratively and literalyl, are falling behind me. There's nothing I cherish more than a sunny afternoon with my husband doing everything, nothing, or something in between. For that, I'm grateful.
Secondly, I've been trying to pull myself out of my rut. I get into ruts after mass amounts of traveling. Time differences, work schedules, and being an adult have made the day-to-day a little rough. Pile on top of this things like discussing finances, houses, and children and you got yourself a soul-crushing weight on your shoulders. Oh, and PMS…that helps. So, let's all just be thankful Nami isn't on some rampage, yelling at kids on her lawn, pointing out parking meters that have run out, and running cyclists off the road.
With that, I'm trying to turn to the sun. (Yes, I'm being literal and figurative again here.) Of course, I'll be packing on the SPF, but I realize now that I can't live without light in my life. It's finally time I sit back a little bit, stop being a neurotic overworker, and take time for the ones I love…including myself. (I'm still trying figure out this whole "love thyself" thing, but I could start with a massage, enrolling in some workout classes, and training myself to take 30 minute naps once in a while without the creeping thought that I could be vacuuming the apartment instead of resting.)
I know most of you are of the non-commenting type, but I'm reaching out here and asking, what do you recommend when one is in a rut? I feel like I need a change and I'm all ears for suggestions on how to jump start myself and get back to the land of the living. Help! xo!
As my hair-growing journey continues, I've been playing around with more hairstyles and this one has become my favorite for the past few weeks. That's right, folks, my dreams of having a massive bun on the top of my head have come true and my hair isn't even that long yet.
I've been asked by a few people now about how in the world I'm able to get my bun so big without a sock and how I'm able to make it look a little undone. Well, let me explain. It all started at the Marissa Webb show during Fashion Week…
One of her hair looks was an undone bun and I was in love with it, but realized I just didn't have the hair length it required. [Insert sad face.] BUT my dear friend and expert stylist for TRESemmé, Tyler Laswell, was able to show me the way! Turns out you don't need a boatload of hair to make a splash. (I know…that pun-filled sentence was a little too much.)
Ready to get the look? Let's go!
I cannot stress enough how important it is to own a robe and this is why this Sunday Styles is being dedicated to just that.
So, it's raining here in LA. It's been raining for a few days now and I've been waiting for Sunday to roll around so I could do just this: lounge around in my plush robe, on my plush faux fur blanket with my plush little pup, Merlin. (Can you tell how much he loves that blanket? If his love isn't properly conveyed in this image, check him out here and here.)
Dear Piece of Clothing I Haven't Worn in Over a Year,
Spring has nearly sprung and I think it's best if we go our separate ways. We both know it's for the best and I'm sure you'll find someone that will love you the way you truly should be loved. Our relationship has been dragging on. It's time we call it quits.
Your Loving Owner,
P.S. Formal Wear, I'm not talking to you. You'll see your day come when I get invited to an event worthy of your beauteousness.
This is the letter that I write in my head to my clothing every time I get the itch to trim my wardrobe into a super-utilitarian, everything-matches, high-quality, no-fleeting-trends-allowed version of itself. And, really, is there any better time than pre-spring to do a little paring down of your dust-collecting duds?
So, something happened while I was at Fashion Week and I needed to get it off my chest…
One morning, I was getting ready and had the local news on the telly. All fine and good until the subject of Fashion Week came up, which is totally expected. However, the story was about models versus plus size models.
And here is where my blood started to boil.
Let me preface this all with the fact that I think all women are beautiful in all the shapes and sizes that they come in. Being proud of one's figure is awesome and I fully support this. I also don't condone doing unhealthy things and forcing your body to be any thinner or curvier than it's supposed to be.
Secondly, when it comes down to it, isn't beauty supposed to come from inside? All everyone seems to care about is what's considered outer beauty. What is beautiful? Sexy? Feminine? Ugh.
Now, back to the story…
I'm back in LA! Thank goodness! And that means back to sunshine, cool breezes, palm trees and the ability to walk out of the apartment with just a jacket without fear of a polar vortex…not to mention the additional ability to (get this) take the jacket off because it's warmer in the sun.
I know. Amazing.
So, naturally, I'm taking advantage of my return by wearing comfy clothes this lovely Sunday.
It was one of those Fashion Weeks, people. The 12-15 hour days for 8 days straight kind of Fashion Week, which would explain my radio silence. Couple that with snow, sleet, and freezing rain, one cancelled flight, a long weekend ruined, and the hopes of spending Valentine's day with my husband for the first time since we've been married dashed. (Insert me shaking my fists at Old Man Winter here.)
Since I've been back, it's been a catch-up game and I finally have enough time to tell you about all of the Fashion Week madness. Ready? Ok, here we go! (Warning: TONS of photos ahead!)
So, Fashion Week is nearly upon us, folks…and that's great. This is the my 7th season working with Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week and TRESemmé and I'm always so happy to see everyone. I love them all to bits.
…and that's so wonderful. Truly. It's such a treat to see people that you adore beyond words…except for the whole freezing-cold-outdoors-overly-heated-indoors-my-face-is-falling-off thing that happens during brutal winters in NYC. And the worst part is that it's not even that cold by New York standards. It was more than 20 degrees colder last week and I'm still complaining.
This is when I realized I've really become quite the Angeleno. I was all ready to hop on the train this morning just like old times and after briskly walking about half a block, I slipped and nearly cracked my head open. So, I changed my mind, hailed a cab and thought "well, I guess I rather sit in traffic for a while than suffer death by black ice or knock my two front teeth out sliding into a random pole or something equally unlikely but would absolutely happen to me."
So, I gotta tell you, after some serious mishaps throughout my life (trying out Sun-In in middle school and showing off a head of brassy grossness, platinum blonde that was so damaged, it was practically melting off in high school, letting various friends in hair school use me as a color guinea pig - "awesome, let's totally destroy my hair!" - a foray into self-dyeing 2.5 years ago that was the hair equivalent to suicide, and much, MUUUUCH more), I had called it quits with coloring my hair for a loooong time.
But ever since my vow to finally grow my hair longer (it had been short for 80% of my life), I started getting the itch. You know the one. The "if I don't do something with my hair soon, I'm gonna F.R.E.A.K.O.U.T." itch. It had gotten to the point where experimenting with bangs and different layers was not cutting it (was that a pun? That was totally a pun.) So, I made my move.
Oh, this one's a doozy. So, here I am on a beautiful Sunday. It's warm and sunny and I'm really ready to go out and relax...or stay in and relax...maybe kinda do some stuff. Above all...I want to relax. (I'm hoping I got that point across to you.)
So, what better way to do that than to wear something that kind of feels like you're not wearing pants, but isn't so free flowing (skirts) that you have to be careful about sitting, standing, crossing your legs...all that stuff.
Well, I've gone and accomplished that thing I've been wanting to accomplish for a long time...(yes, another one of my silly quests.)
Ladies and gentlemen, I found harem pants that don't make me want to crawl under a figurative fashion rock. Enter these babies. Drop-crotched enough to be a harem pant, but not so much that you look like you may have had an accident in your pants or that you're trying to hide a 2 day old diaper. (Wow, gross visual, Nami.)
Extra points: For those of us less endowed in the posterior & hip area, - in short, me - these help make you look curvier. Hurrah!
After searching around for a pair that works (oh, I had so many failures, I can't even tell you...and so many appalled looks from Charles), I happened upon these yesterday after stuffing a burger in my face. I find shopping after you eat a big meal is a good way to gauge how things fit comfortably. I've learned my lesson after buying high-waisted pants while hungry and almost busting a zipper post-meal. (Uncomfortable stomach pressure? Sign me up!...on opposite day!)
There are a few points to be made about finding a flattering harem pant for someone of my height & stature. Here are some facts based on extensive, self-reflective research: