Oh, hey there. Sorry I've been completely MIA, but you'll learn why in a second…
Welcome to my first installment of "The Frontiers of Adulthood" where I, a supposed adult, will discuss things that are going on in my life that are things adults are supposed to do…even though I really don't feel like one.
This series will be especially relevant for all of us living in high-priced cities where, if you're not a millionaire, things are difficult and you often question your quality of life because you know if you lived somewhere else, you'd probably have several acres of land, a huge house, and a life outside of your occupation instead of the studio apartment you've been in for 10 years (which you're still renting) and the job that haunts you on weekends and weeknights in the form of a plague of emails. You often scoff at Sex in the City because you know there's just no way Carrie could've afforded living in that apartment in the first place. (However, you still watch re-runs because of your expert ability to suspend disbelief…also, you will always love that show.)
Today's subject is about home ownership. If you've been following along on the blog, you might have noticed me mention here and there that we've been on the market for a home.
Well, ladies and gents, I'm proud to say that we just moved into condo a few weeks ago, which would explain why I basically fell off the Earth and was orbiting Pluto (which technically isn't a "planet" in our solar system anymore, but has enough gravitational force to keep me away from you for a month.)
Now, back to the subject…
I've gotta say that home ownership has really shed some light on parts of myself I never knew existed. Here's a list of things I've discovered about myself:
Well, happy Sunday, everyone! And, more importantly, Happy Father's Day to all the wonderful dads out there! OBVIOUSLY, this gives me a chance to dedicate today's Sunday Styles to the international man of mystery known as my dad…or, as I call him, "Pop."
As is my way of doing things, I'm going to start off on the sartorial side of things. This is my father in his 20's…for 95% of my life, he has been in a suit. Apparently, this whole thing started way before I was born too. To be fair, he was a tried and true Japanese business man and they all wear suits, but my father was never schlubby. You know those guys who "wear suits" but don't look right in them or don't take the time to care for their clothing?
Yeah, my dad has never been one of them. So, let's start off with the fashion-focused things my father has taught me…
It's a rare thing, to be sure. I've seen tons of collaborations that have made my head cock so hard to one side that it practically falls off and rolls away under a car (or a couch if I'm indoors.)
So, wasn't I pleasantly surprised when I heard about Warby Parker's newest collab with the beautiful Karlie Kloss being released TODAY. (If you don't know who she is, behold the beauty to the left. Remember this face, because she's going to be one of those legendary models that will probably look just as stunning at 90.)
Also, I may or may not stalk her on Instagram…how can you not?
Let's all admit that this girl has staying power. I feel like if we still lived in the 90's, she would've been in with Helena, Naomi, Cindy, Linda, Kate, and Christy…and this is why I can respect this collab. Because we know this girl and we know that she's got style, she's got grace (she's a lady) and why wouldn't we all want a little bit of that style to call our very own?
You didn't think I could possibly provide another white-out weekend post, did you? Trust me, I thought about it, but figured you might be getting bored. Anyway, I needed to do a load of white laundry. Combine that with the revelation that I need more white shoes and it's become clear that today is not an all-white sorta day.
Meanwhile, it's finally cooled down a little bit and the mornings have been deliciously overcast, which means I don't have to wear white as a defensive move. No one should ever have to dress defensively.
So, what do I do instead? I go in the completely opposite direction (naturally) this Sunday by channeling my inner Wednesday Addams. Nothing feels as comfortable to me as nestling into a blacked-out outfit. In the words of the great Yohji Yamamoto:
"Black is modest and arrogant at the same time. Black is lazy and easy - but mysterious. But above all black says this: "I don't bother you - don't bother me."
Man, it is getting hot out there, isn't it? Not sure how it's going on the east coast, but the west coast has been scorching and humid! I know. HUMID! My hair and skin are super happy about it, but the rest of me could do without that mild dampness that makes walking in the sun feel like battling your way through a sauna. My friend, Dan, said it had to do with the tectonic plates below Cali creating heat from the ground and the marine layer. (I may or may not be planning for natural disasters…)
It would seem completely illogical for me not to dedicate this Sunday Styles to the woman who taught me everything I know about fashion, style, beauty, and life: Mama Matsuo!
So, let's take a minute to gaze upon this moment in time…probably shot sometime in the early 70's. (The lucky red-overall-ed toddler in the photo is my amazing older sister…who is also a fantastic mom of three.)
Now, it goes without saying that my mom was a total babe, but that aside, just look at that outfit! A long-sleeved, knee-length, perfectly tailored dress with a slight flair. Here's another image of it for reference…
After a deathly hot week of 90+ degree weather, respite has arrived today in the form of the perfect day. Sunny, breezy, and 75. My favorite type of LA weather (unless there's a pool involved, in which case, bring on 90 degrees and up!)
This Sunday is another ode to keeping it simple. It's also my second Sunday wearing a baseball cap because they're my current obsession. (A solution to not doing anything with my hair? SIGN ME UP.) In other news, much like my obsession with black, I'm starting to cultivate an obsession with white. (I mean, I guess it makes sense…wearing all black in 90 degree weather is like actively deciding to be a baked potato all season.)
The "Let's Be Adults" journey continues with 18 days off of cigarettes and over 3 weeks of visiting the gym under my belt. To add a dash of rebellion to my newfound, responsible ways, I've added a splash of peachy-pink to my hair so as not to take myself too seriously…though this is starting to fade pretty quickly. Womp.
Anyway, I want to start by getting something straight. I have never been a gym person. I have always been a workout-DVD-hide-in-the-comfort-of-my-own-home-go-to-an-occasional-dance-class-to-stave-off-boredom-or-try-something-from-Groupon kind of person. True, I went on a Bikram yoga bender for a few months back in 2012, but realized that though I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment at the end of those sessions, there was something about being flanked on all sides by hot (and I mean temperature here), sweaty men who were all taller than me that would send me into these anxiety tailspins. Something akin to "omg, I can't breathe. OMG. Am I going to die right now? I feel like I might black out. It feels way hotter than it's suppose to be!!!"
It's been one of those weeks, folks. A lot of work, some traveling for work, some perusing houses on the market…also, losing a house we wanted because we didn't move fast enough on it. So on, so forth. The trials and tribulations of adulthood. At least once a day, I still feel like throwing my hands up, building a blanket fort to hide in and spending my days with coloring books…maybe holding an impromptu tea party once in a while for me and my dog with imaginary cakes, obviously. No need for grocery shopping and less clean-up.
So, this Sunday Styles is dedicated to KISSing…as in "Keep It Simple, Sister." (The "Stupid" has been edited because I don't think you're stupid and, well, I think of you all as my Internet sisters in one way or another - was that too mushy? Whatever. Live with it. I'm an affectionate person.) That and the perfect Los Angeles weather. (Sorry, I swear I don't mean to be rub it in. I love NYC in the spring!)