This was one of those thrown-together-in-30-seconds-or-less outfits that turned out … kinda cute. At least, I thought so at the time. It was a bright, sunshiny day, and my winter-addled brain may have suffered a temporary, joy-induced malfunction, leading me to overestimate the cuteness factor of this whole thing. To be fair, every time I type out “mustard” in a blog post, I suddenly feel like I need to start questioning my sartorial choices.
Anyway.
At the first glimpse of sun, plus flats-friendly sidewalk conditions, I immediately pulled out my AG Stevie slim cropped cords. I’ve been waiting to wear these since I bought them last fall, in a Kijiji-deal-of-the-year situation. They are sooo soft and comfy, and totally worth the $20 I paid for them. Did I mention they were new? Did I also mention that I subsequently went to Anthropologie to look for more pairs, and had a bit of an ugly cry when I saw their regular price? That, my friends, is the downside of being really, really, ridiculously good looking* at finding bargains; you come to have impossible-to-meet price expectations. I know, I know. Don’t y’all whip out your tiny violins at once.
* I could not resist a reference to the best movie about fashion of all time.
Let me start by doing what every parent does, more often than they’d like to admit, and that is blame something (I’d have a hard time justifying) on my kid. See, I just had to go to the mall. I did. My kid made me, because he is my kid and he considers going to the mall a social activity. He visits the mannequins. (I am serious.) And when we go to the mall, we have to go to Zara, because that’s where his favourite mannequins reside. And it all started at Zara.
I swear I was not looking. Well, I technically had my eyes open so I could steer one over-excited toddler and a stroller along, but I wasn’t looking looking, if you catch my drift. But, somehow, these caught my eye.
Zara ballet flats
In my defence, they were very, very twinkly. I also blame the lighting at Zara, for making things extra twinkly.
I was in love in about a nano-second. Now, I already had a pair of rhinestone flats in my closet, but these … were special. For real. I’m not generally a big Zara fan, but honestly, these didn’t look like Zara flats to me. They looked Chanel-esque, if Chanel took to designing for Tinkerbell. They looked expensive. Scratch that. They were expensive. $80 for rhinestone encrusted mesh? No.
No, right? Right?!
The rational part of my brain eventually kicked in, and I steered the troops out of Zara, Tinkerbell shoes-free. (It helped that the biggest size they had was a touch too small. Comfort above all.) I did the sensible thing, and went to SoftMoc to look for the pair of Chucks that was actually on my to-buy list. And was rewarded by finding them on sale. Of course, this story doesn’t end here, because my name is Adina and I like to make things difficult for myself. Initially, the plan was to look for a grey pair. Eminently sensible and practical, yes? But then I saw the red pair. And it looked awfully cute. I like red shoes. My husband thinks red Chucks are awesome. My youngest has a hand-me-down pair of red Chucks from her older brother, and we could do a mother-daughter thing. Cute. So … What to do?
The red … or the grey???
Like any normal person would, I turned to social media. The consensus among my Facebook peeps was “grey”. Naturally, I bought the red. Went home, and promptly reconsidered. And then I made my poor husband drive back to the mall the next day so I could exchange them for the grey. What can I say – he has the fortitude, not to mention the patience, of a saint. But I love my grey Chucks, and they are ever so practical.
The end.
P.S. You didn’t really think that was the end, did you? Of course not. So, one late night not long thereafter, I somehow zombie-clicked my way on to the Zara website, and before I knew it, bam. A pair of Tinkerbell shoes were on their way to me. Sigh.
BCRL is officially … a pre-schooler! Man, the toddler years are rough – and not just for kids. I was poking through the archives a bit in prepping this post and … ooof! There are a lot more WTF moments in there than I seem (or care) to remember. It’s a veritable gold mine, and no, that’s not an invitation for you to take a look. Consider it a warning, should this post inspire any nostalgic browsing.
May 2010 – Oh, those early headless pics! The memories!
That has to be the most underwhelming opening paragraph to an anniversary post ever (whomp, whomp), but it’s actually kind of appropriate. I’ve been “failing” as a style blogger for 4 years now, but I keep on trucking, and if that isn’t a lesson in pursuing your passions against all common sense … well, what else can it be. And by “failing”, I mean that I have not attained fame, much less riches, and not even a hint of free swag. Can I still call myself a style blogger if I’ve never been offered a single c/o item? Does a tree falling on Mars make a sound? I have no idea. But 2 kids, 20 pounds, and 347 closet overhauls later, I’m still here.
May 2011 – Bebe numero uno
And you are still reading. Which is awesome. Some of you have been reading since the beginning, which is truly the best accolade I could get. Some of you write blogs I love very, very much, which makes me feel almost cool (by association). Some of you comment regularly, which makes me happy as a pig in … erm … free swag. Some of you binge-read my blog every now and then, spiking up my negligible traffic so that, for one glorious day, I feel like I’ve made the A-list; as one inveterate lurker to another, I salute you.
May 2012 – The Luk-meister … and my terrible, first-time-mom pixie cut
I could wax poetic on my “style journey” over the last 4 years, but the blog kinda speaks for itself, yes? I started this blog around the time I first felt like I was getting a grip on fashion, and I was (naturally, perhaps) in a bit of a proselytizing mood. There are worse sins than being awfully earnest about essentially trivial things, but the simple truth is: fashion is neither scary, nor complicated, nor exclusivist. No matter what some blog, or magazine, or Very Important Fashion Person tells you. If you’re putting on clothes every morning, you’re engaging in fashion. You’re fashioning. And you don’t need a manifesto, or a rule book, or a pot of gold, to do it. You should have fun, if possible. Or at least be comfortable. And, ideally, not piss off your HR manager.
May 2013 – Bebe numero dos
I know less now about fashion than I did 4 years ago, which is to say that I’ve stopped trying to be fashionable. Which is not to say that I don’t still love clothes way, waaaay more than a grown adult should. But I love them on my terms. And you should too. Or not. I mean, I’m not trying to tell you what to do or anything. Except to keep reading my blog. Yes, definitely do that.
Because there can be no official birthday without presents, I have a little prize pack to give away to one BCRL reader. It’s made up of some of my favourite things from some of my favourite brands: sparkly bracelet (J. Crew Factory), floral print scarf (H&M), badass eyeliner (Benefit), and pretty nail polish (A England).
The swag
For a chance to win the prize pack, please leave a comment on this post on a topic of your choice. (Telling me how awesome I am is one example of a topic. Also acceptable: what you enjoy about BCRL, what you’d like to see more of, what you’d like to see less of, what you’d like to never see again, what you wish you’d never seen. I will also accept, but only grudgingly, if you merely write “gimme”.) The giveaway will close on Sunday, and the winner will be announced on May 19.
