“She’s got the photos, but no recollection…”

I almost titled this post Obligatory Shopping Weekend. I started a few shopping carts but so far have abandoned all but one. There have been so many recent deals online that I’m pretty much stocked up on the things I need except I am in serious need of some dresses — and naturally the brands I gravitate towards do not believe in the concept of sales because that would undermine their quality standards… namely Cuyana and Everlane. Here are my carts around the internet.

Everlane

Started a Black Friday Fund and reached their goal to contribute proceeds to employees in one of their Vietnam factories: $117,760 for 8,000 moped helmets. So, no discount at Everlane. In fact their Pay Your Own Price is currently on pause and will resume on Dec. 26th.

Cuyana

This year Cuyana sent an email asking customers to donate their gently used clothing at one of their stores for a $10 credit. And for those that shopped Cuyana on Black Friday, the company donated one of their essentials to their partners at H.E.A.R.T.

Elizabeth Suzann

Elizabeth Suzann, the priciest of the brands actually did have a Black Friday/weekend sale of a tiered spend more, save more. Because the other brands did not exactly have any sale happening I felt like I could wait to purchase the other items in my myriad of shopping carts online at a later point in time. So I ended up buying these two dresses and saved a whopping… $50 off my order total… minimal savings but I felt really strongly about these two styles. And it would allow me to feel the silk crepe quality and the raw silk broadcloth quality. Most of the pieces on Elizabeth Suzann are made to order in their Nashville design studio and production facility and as a require a 3-4 week lead time…! It’s not bespoke but I can stand behind making only as much as demand requires even if it means I must wait a little more patiently than my customary “arrives in two days” that Amazon Prime has primed me.

I’m trying to be more deliberative with my spending this weekend because December is such an expensive month with family and it’s Daniel’s birthday on the 17th and then Christmas…

This has been one crazy year. There is a lot more I’d like to write but I should switch tasks… like drink some hot tea and curl up with the new book I picked up from the library today.

 

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Kay-house

Chaos. That is what my life and my house have become as of late. I have to-do lists piled sky high on almost every surface of this household.

One case in point:

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A renewal letter from The Atlantic, a 401k rollover action needed like yesterday notice, so many magazines I have yet to read (really, will I ever?) — especially when I’ve read the articles from those publications online most especially The New Yorker. I mean it’s thin enough to carry around anywhere but rather pretentious, so I abstain. Almost nothing is in its proper place. I used to run such a precise, tight ship in which everything was right where it should be: a place for all things. But then living with someone changed all that. You cannot control or account for the movement of others. Or dictate just how tidy they can be when I myself am prone to the more than occasional untidiness and then hypocrisy prevails.

When it comes to things in paper form, I cannot for the life of me throw away the things I really should and throw away all the really important papers. Forreal. I have a paper clutter problem. No amount of bookshelf space short of The Beast’s Castle could suffice.

Anyway, I came on here to post a digital mood board collage. Gods forbid I print out or cut out papers and create a physical mood board. I don’t think my home can handle any more of that. However, an hour has since passed and I failed to make a collage instead opting for crossing things off my to-do list like ordering some small knickknacks for my aunt’s baby shower and curating a collection of french country images for my aunt’s new house like I said I would.

Also, I’ve come to the realization (yet again) that most people are neither reliable or nice, and I rather seclude myself from the world. I always land on the same feeling. This feeling has become my home base, at-neutral emotion, my comfort zone. Except it makes me deeply resentful and very uncomfortable, if I’m being honest.

My emotions fluctuate between wanting to be an optimist and being an actual pessimist. It leads to some seriously confusing dialogues. Wanting not to want and not wanting to want. Not needing to need and needing to not need. I’m forever a Pisces:

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Circling back into myself over and over and over and over. Going one direction and the other direction at the same time.

Anyway, time for Sunday night HBO. I don’t know what I would do without film and television and other consumable media like podcasts and books.

 

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Unreliable.

Tonight is just one of those nights where I hate everything and just about everyone. I have the rant ready to go in my mind but I’m sort of emotion-shy right now. Maybe because my anger and annoyance are not rightly justified, but I feel nonetheless.

I hate that I can’t go anywhere with Daniel anymore. And the reason we can’t go anywhere anymore is because he has physically abused me several times in the past. Bruises and tears and emotional breakdowns and very late nights and many broken things and sometimes injuries. There’s no way he can come to any of my family events anymore. It’s not right. But then he still lives here and we still hang out and have dinner together and hold one another sometimes. And it’s just so mind-fucking weird. I know I shouldn’t keep playing house with someone like that. And it’s like an embarrassing secret or a clandestine relationship. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel good going alone to family events (because I don’t go out otherwise unless it’s a family event ‘cus I ain’t got no frenz n e more).

Everyone was dancing tonight and I had no one to dance with and I had no one to talk to and I felt incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. At my own family’s party.

Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, so I left.

Even though I love dancing and I wanted to have fun.

But when I think about it, if Daniel had gone, we’d probably get into a fight anyway. About something or other. Because he’s got the lowest tolerance for anything, and the quickest to anger response I’ve ever seen. When I think about it, I hate it. I hate the current state of things so much. This isn’t someone that treats me kindly.

I found some old video recordings from college because I used to record a lot and take lots of pictures way before Snapchat and Instagram were even invented. And I used to laugh so much. Now I rarely laugh and there’s very little joy in my life. Daniel doesn’t understand my humor or my jokes. Or anything about me really. I’m always in a constant state of war instead of conversing and laughing and being myself. I can’t be myself because it always leads to some kind of misunderstanding. I can’t be sassy in a funny kind of way. I can’t be witty. I can’t be anything. It’s all misunderstood. Like we speak completely different languages.

I don’t know how I ended up in a situation like this. I don’t know what to do. Or how to fix it. Or if it’s even worth fixing. I don’t think Daniel and I are ever going to be happy and I’m tired of trying. It’s never going to be the relationship I want it to be because we just don’t get along. Even if we managed to get along from this minute forward there are all the moments in which we didn’t get along and nothing can erase that. I hate relationships. I did when I was younger and after this, my first real relationship ever, I think I was right. I don’t even know how to reintegrate myself into society now.

I feel angry because I don’t keep up with my old friends anymore. But the sad thing is, they don’t either. I don’t exactly get invites from any friends to do anything. And I’m too depressed to reach out to anyone anyway — it’d feel like charity or like a pity hang, begging someone that hasn’t bothered to keep in touch, to hang out with me. I’ve lost so much faith in people that I don’t even want a new set of friends either. I’m just tired of how unreliable people can be and how disappointing that is, and that is something I rather just not meddle with anymore.

I know David has come to visit LA from New York a handful of times and each time I just can’t muster the social strength to see him. He’s my most beloved friend from 10th grade to UCSB and beyond. He was there for me during my tough high school years and through college, and through anything. But I can’t stand the idea that I’d see my friend during a time when I feel so depressed. That’s not the state I want to be in to see David. He’s got the funniest, loudest laugh and the biggest heart and I know he wants to support me through what I’ve been through with Daniel recently — but I feel so embarrassed and ashamed and I just can’t do it. He called social services when he saw how my mom treated me (also physical and emotional abuse) so I know he has my back. But I rather things were normal and happy and that if he came to LA to visit his family that if we hung out it were a joyous thing not a chance to connect over something ridiculous — and a situation he’s seen me go through before. Besides, no one wants to hear about depressing, sad things. No one wants to hear anything.

Omg, now I’m crying and feeling all sad at myself. This is so pathetic. I wish I could figure things out and just do what’s right. 🙁

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Reset.

“Long hair minimizes the need for barbers; socks can be done without; one leather jacket solves the coat problem for years; suspenders are superfluous.” – Albert Einstein. 

I do miss writing and talking about fashion on my blog. I miss writing in my blog, generally speaking. But when I think of what it is I would want to say, very little comes to mind. I think for a long time now I have enjoyed consuming really quality blog posts, news articles, the radio, and podcasts, and of course music. There is always so much to consume all around us. And I get so excited to consume, consume, consume that I’ve become nothing more than a consumer buying everything the world is selling me. And wanting to buy in.

As I have gotten careless with myself and my life, two things have happened: 1) I have gained weight and 2) I can no longer wear what I consider my perfect wardrobe. Seriously. My tom boy and mysteriously sexy look (showing less is more) vibes don’t jam with my currently curvy figure. I long longed for a slimmer, more athletic build so I could solely wear loafers and trousers and Reverse Seam button up shirts. Which I was doing for a few years until I jumped off the fit life bandwagon. I’m a yo-yo exerciser. And at 5 feet tall, I love food too much to consume as few calories required of a 5 foot person. So exercise was my non-negotiable counterweight to … uh, yannoe, weight gain. I do this every time… I reach this particular weight which seems to be my max/natural weight eating all the things I love without exercise and then circle back and start aiming for unlimited push-ups and 5 mile jogs. It’s like my life is a living trend cycle, pendulum swing style.

So I started Insanity Max 30 today. I tell ya, that pendulum swing. There’s no “easing into it.” Go all the way, or you don’t mean it. I was tempted to blog about this on my “secret”/private fitness blog but I mean — this blog is private enough. The readership is quite low. I remember a few years ago when all the wrong people were reading my blog and then my blog life crossed over into my real life and that was just weird. And then years and years and years before then I was part of the blogosphere.

However, it’s gotten a bit hard to stay focused on fashion. It feels as though the ultra-fast rise of social media has catapulted most fashion away from the blogs and into a see it once Snapchat moment. I’m going to have to dig a little deeper to get back into street style and bloggers worth following. But I want to feel that excitement again. It is harder when you can’t fit into the fashion you like, nevermind the expense of building a new wardrobe. It’s like honey, lose the weight or become a millionaire. Insert sideways glance here.

Here’s to a reset to bring things back to the way they were/should be/ought to be.

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