All the pretty horses

J Crew sweater, Goodwill dress,  Macy's tights, Modsock tights/sock things with horses on them, Bass Perry Boots

Value Village necklace

I'm apparently only wearing blue and black (and occasionally brown) these days. Sometime I even wear this blue sweater with blue skinny jeans and I wonder if it's okay...and then I just stop caring cause a navy crew neck J Crew sweater is super classy and you can wear it with anything.

Chapeau

Value Village sweater, Gap Outlet black jeans, Bass Perry boots, gifted beret from France

And here we have a series of photos I unearthed from the glasses-wearing era earlier this year. I lost a contact lens walking across a parking lot to get frozen yogurt. Then I spent a couple of months being annoyed that I had to wear my glasses because I needed a new prescription and my eye appointment was like two months away.  And then I wore a lot of sweaters and pants and basically no skirts or dresses but it was okay because I like my black boots or orange loafers thrown on with a pair of skinny jeans. Anyway, I seem pretty fine with everything in these photos, but I'm glad I'm back to contacts now.

All other books go home. You lose. Habibi is the best.

Buffalo Exchange jacket,  Zumiez sweatshirt, H&M dress, Wet Seal leggings, Labels Consignment boots and socks,  North Face hat, Fendi glasses

Ever since I checked out Blankets from the library where I worked at the time (about five years ago), I have considered Craig Thompson to be the absolute master of the the graphic novel. Art Speigelman gets a lot of praise (rightly so) for Maus, and Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi is also widely considered literature, transcending its somewhat fledgling genre. And while both of these authors are fantastic and deserve all the praise they get, I'm always baffled by how few people have heard of Thompson, the other giant of the graphic novel form.

I remember cracking open Blankets one night around eleven pm, thinking I would read for a bit and get to sleep. Three hours later, I had plowed through the entire thing, feeling awed by the power and beauty of the book, and guilty for devouring the gorgeous illustrations so quickly. It immediately became, and remains to this day, one of my favorite books of all time. 

I recently got around to bringing home his second major work, Habibi.  I didn't think it was possible for it to live up to its predecessor, but I supposed I would still like it. Guys, I was so wrong, in a completely amazing way. I don't think I can be super objective, since I haven't read Blankets in awhile and it's not as fresh on my mind, but I still feel confident in saying Habibi  is even better. The level of the illustrations so far surpasses that of Thompson's contemporaries that I suspect it might just be embarrassing for them. I could gush on and on, but suffice it to say that this is the most moving, beautiful, complex, lovely book I have read in a  very long time.  So yeah, here I am wearing clothes, but more importantly, here is something you should read, own, and evangelize. And screw Amazon. Find a local bookstore in your town and spend the extra bucks to support an essential industry.

A quick note: my blog, despite having basically zero readership, has suddenly gotten really spammy. So I've turned off anonymous commenting, sorry if this causes any inconvenience!

A Studious Sweater

Labels Consignment cardigan,  Pacsun dress, Charlotte Russe tights, Bass boots, Goodwill necklace

It's funny how unpredictable new wardrobe items can be. I almost didn't buy this cardigan because it does that annoying thing where the sleeves stretch out after I roll them up and won't stay put and I have to constantly yank on them all day. (Why don't you just leave the sleeves unrolled and avoid this problem entirely? you might ask. Heaven knows. I just like to roll them, OK?) But I went for it anyway, sold by the elbow patch detail. And now I love the cardigan, and I wear it too much and Joe says it's his favorite. And so I deal with the rolling and yanking. FASHION PROBLEMS, GUYS.

Blood Meridian and blood orange shoes

J Crew sweater, Gap jeans, Dolce Vita shoes, mom's necklace from high school

I fear this might be the only photographic evidence of me wearing these shoes for awhile. I want to wear them, truly I do, but they're so PRETTY and what if they get ruined or something? I'm overprotective of them, because they are so orange and suede-ey and pristine and I have no children or pets to moon over. 

Also, mini-review since I'm doing this thing now where I include the books I'm reading in my photos when I can. This one is Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy. I've read and loved two other books by McCarthy, No Country For Old Men for it's perfect pacing and tension, and The Road for it's heartbreaking characters and gorgeous prose. I had high expectations, but Blood Meridian was impossible for me to get into. I am a completest and I read it cover to cover, but was underwhelmed. I know that many people love and admire it, though, so perhaps I'm in the minority.

Hey. I got some shoes. What's up with you?

Zumiez sweatshirt, elephant shirt from a shop in Chester, NJ, Pacsun jeans, Bass boots, antique kitty pin, Bellegance bracelets, Peridot Boutique (Seattle Queen Anne District) earrings, Fendi glasses

I am slightly over the moon for my new Bass Perry boots...they look killer with jeans but I also love them with dresses. I'm not really sure what possessed me with a burning desire for colonial-inspired black booties, but they're going to be my new signature shoes. That is, if I can get over my fear of scuffing the toes, which seems to happen with every really nice pair of shoes I get within the first few wears.

Also...elephant shirt and kitty pin! The bracelets I'm wearing were made by one of my coworkers. He hand-knits them. I feel like I'm wearing tiny sweaters on my arm. 

Green Arches

Charlotte Russe shirt, Kohl's shorts, Converse sneakers, Ralph Lauren sunglasses

Since the college students will be flooding into town soon, I decided to hit the trails while they're still relatively empty. I saw nary a soul for the first ten minutes or so, but soon a bicyclist came whoosing down the hill, scaring the bejeezus out of me. I also got the worst case of itchy legs coming back down the trail. From the knee up, they were in a constant state mild burning, and turned a lovely shade of red.  For the last twenty minutes or so of my hike, all I could think about was getting back to the car.