still dreaming of swimsuits

I'm still in search of the perfect suit...And no matter where I look, I just can't seem to find it! I honestly love this one by Rachel Pally at Anthropologie. They actually have quite a few lovely pieces. It's just that I can't seem to drop the $200 for one. Does that make me cheap?

The ideal suit: 1950s style two-piece. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now really, how hard is that? I've even been on the prowl for a pattern to stitch my own little swimming number up and no luck. So please help a gal out...tips, words of advice, budget-friendly shops...do let me know if you got any!

une femme est une femme

Just a bit of eye candy really! I haven't been able to get this film out of my head since Monday. It had been a few years since I last saw it, and feeling the need to treat myself to something frivolous a few evenings ago, I decided to indulge.

With it's cut and paste musical swells, plethora of goofy sound effects, psuedo-musical scenes and most of all, Angela’s nymph-like presence, how can a girl not laugh? This much nonsense makes too easy really! Every time, I find myself bouncing back and worth, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all then oohing and ahhing over Angela's perfectly Parisien attire. I've never been one for white lingerie, but I think Anna Karina may have single-handedly changed my mind.

good night my love

More often than not, each time I say good night bits and pieces of this song this song float through my mind. The cause, I think, my childhood obsession with Swing Kids.

Good night, my love, the tired old moon is descending.
Good night, my love, my moment with you is now ending.
It was so heavenly, holding you close to me.
It will be heavenly to hold you again in a dream.
The stars above have promised to meet us tomorrow.
Till then, my love, how dreary the new day will seem.
So for the present, dear, we'll have to part.
Sleep tight, my love, good night, my love,
Remember that you're mine, sweetheart.
Good night, my love, your mommy is kneeling beside you.
Good night, my love, to Dreamland the Sandman will guide you.
Come now, you sleepy head, close your eyes, go to bed.
My precious sleepy head, you mustn't play peek-a-boo.
Goodnight, my love, your little Dutch dolly is yawning.
Goodnight, my love, your teddy bear called it a day.
Your doggy's fast asleep, my but he's smart.
Sleep tight, my love, good night, my love,
God bless you, pleasant dreams, sweetheart.

PS. While a couple of those nighties have already sold, you can still find two in the shop!

gunne sax

With each day bringing us deeper into summer, my desire to wear pants has almost completely diminished. Yesterday's high was 106 F, so you can see how just thinking about anything form fitting especially tight jeans sends me into a premature sweat!

I have a slight feeling this could be part of the reason for my recent drooling over Gunne Sax. With a plethora of prairie-revival skirts and dresses, each piece speaks in cool breezes, near whispers of why they are perfect for Southern summers.

Nana Pat Project. Perhaps it’s the lace ruffles. Perhaps it’s the off-the-shoulder neckline. Whatever it is, I’m gone. Lover: Please take me on an evening picnic so I can parade around the forest in this dress.

Ramona West. Etsy has quite a lovely selection of Gunne Sax dresses. I’d love to slip this one on, grow my hair out about 10” and laze on my friend’s front porch swing sipping on Frescaritas all through the day.

She Hearts Vintage. With so many of these dresses in maxi form, it’s nice to stumble upon a shorter piece with equal adorable qualities. Collared. Calico. Cool.

Zwzzy. Skirts shall not be forgotten! It would be so easy to simply throw on an old cream tank (tucked in of course!) and run around town in this uber flirty skirt.

Miss Kitten Vintage. Photos. Photos. Photos. Oh how I love a good photo! With it’s styling right on, I couldn’t pass this one up in my quest. I'm not quite sure if I could pull off sleeves quite so puffy, but a girl can try.

calling cards

Ever so slightly I'm reminded of afternoons spent in my Gigi's formal living room where my brother and I would be forced to sit and visit with friends, family, essentially all those who decided to pop in.

Oh! I could barely take it as a child. Sitting there, so fidgeting, drinking my tea and waiting for the moments Gigi would play piano and I could finally jump off the couch and dance to my delight for all who would watch.

No calling cards were exchanged, but I suppose it's the idea of visiting as such formal mode of entertainment and socializing that is reminiscent.

Along with letters and landlines, wouldn't it be lovely to bring back the calling card! I stumbled across these over at Dull Tool Dim Bulb along with a nice little history.

in the shop

Check out these lovelies in the shop today!

roaring 20s

I am completely smitten with Chris Nicholls' collection of photographs, Roaring 20s. From tones and focus to makeup and styling, everything, it seems, is spot on.