Wish List: Cabin Porn

If this weekend proved anything, it’s that I’m an introvert. I’m kind of one of those tricky personalities where there are pretty strong cases for both sides. Ultimately, when it comes down to the age-old and terrifically simple question of “Do you get energized from being with people or by yourself?” the answer is obvious. Case in point: life just doesn’t get much happier than me, in bed, eating Chipotle, and watching Real Housewives of Orange County this last Sunday after a weekend of camping.

Me. Alone. Glory be.

There’s your energy boost.

This is most likely why I’ve COMPLETELY over romanticized the idea of a cabin. I have created such an image of what my dream cabin looks like that it’s almost like it really exists. There’s solitude. Creaking wood floors. An old oven– the kind that just makes cookies taste better. On a small hill with big windows and big trees sweeping the roof. Shoes banned. Socks required. Cabinets stacked and stacked and stacked with mismatched bowls. Natural light. All of the throw blankets. All of them. And me alone. With visitors. But visitors that I can then be all like “K, bye.” Let’s all breathe out together now. Ahhhhh.

K. So that doesn’t exist. Not yet. It will. But not yet.

IN THE MEANTIME… We have Cabin Porn. And their beautiful book by the same name. My all-time favorite kind of porn. Made specifically for the moments when I have to be in not a cabin with my shoes on and humans buzzing around me. Yeesh.





I want to go to there.

Lady Crush: Meg Callahan

I have a serious lady/artist crush on Furniture Designer and Quilt Maker Meg Callahan.

Quilting is kind of this magical thing to me. When you see a quilt in someone’s home, there is typically an inherent heirloom quality and or story behind it that is usually bigger than “I bought this at Bed Bath and Beyond.” That sort of importance is maintained, but modernized in Meg’s beautiful handmade pieces of true artwork. These aren’t your great grandmother’s quilts, but they do maintain a similar integrity. All of Meg’s pieces are designed, dyed, and produced in Rhode Island. I’m a sucker for tradition and keepsakes and I’m a sucker for good construction. This plus that equals fan for life.


Meg_Callahan_Dye_Quilt_Red M.Callahan_Studio_Spine_Quilt png

So great, right? I’ve been talking about it for years, but I really do what to learn how to quilt. Like ASAP.

For more of her work, take a look at her blog and follow her on Instagram.

I’m in love with her uber cool quilts and am so anxious to see what other work she does in the future.

Follicle Drama: The Musical

We’ve had this conversation before. But it’s been a while since I brought it up.

My hair.

I know. No one cares.

And this, in itself, actually, brings up something that I’ve really learned as I’ve gotten older: No one cares about anything.

No one cares about what you do or don’t do with your hair.
No one cares how hot or how cold you are.
No one cares how your day is going.
No one cares about how you think you got your headache.
No one cares where you are in your career. (…right?? Right?!)
No one cares who else was at that party when you’re retelling a story about the crazy thing that happened that one time.
And — this one is important– No one cares about what happened in your dream last night.

Exeption: Your mom and sometimes your dad. But mostly just when it’s about career stuff.

This may sound harsh. But it’s actually the most freeing thing in the world.

But anyway, back to my hair. The last time I made a bold hair move was in college. After graduation (which, let’s face it, is basically the dividing line between everything in my life. BG and PG) I had platinum blonde hair. I’d finally moved past the greatest mistake I’d ever made in college– bangs. And I’d learned to truly harness the Savannah humidity in my favor and rocked that natural curl like a true HBIC.

When I moved to Philly, short on funds and perhaps subconsciously making a greater statement regarding my emotional state at the time, I decided that I was going to finally let go of the 8 year phase of dying/chopping/discussing my hair every 3 months. It’s mildly embarrassing how seriously I took that decision. Changing my hair every 4 hours felt like a part of my identity that I was letting go of.

Enter my theory: No one cares.

They really don’t! I haven’t done a thing to my hair in over a year and no. body. cares. I feel that right now, my not doing something with my hair is almost as grand as a statement as buzzing it and dying it pink. My hair has never been this long or natural in my life! Sometimes, I don’t even brush it! It’s so anti-punk, that it’s punk, you know?

BUT! Lately…………. wait for it…… My Pinterest “Hair” board beckons and I feel the itch. The itch to grab a pair of scissors and have at it. Chop off INCHES. Then I have a moment of clarity and I know that 1. I always regret bangs 2. No matter how red my hair is, I’m not actually going to ever be Emma Stone and 3. I’m immensely curious what hair down to your butt cheeks feels like? Probably so cool.

But, like OJ Simpsons’s 2007 classic “If I Did It,” I can’t help but consider the possibilities……..





Wish List: iPhone Case

For years, I had a great iPhone case. A real conversation starter. I got it in the dollar section of Target. It had green edges and and illustration of an ear and big, fat side-burn on it. So, when you held it up to your right ear it was supposed to look like you had a big, fat side-burn. But I’m a girl. And girls aren’t supposed to have side-burns. So it was funny. Get it? I also saw it on a BuzzFeed List of “The Top 10 Douchiest iPhone Cases” which made me only love it more.

It eventually cracked one too many times and I came to terms with the fact that it was time to get a new case. I went back to Target hoping to have a similar experience and find my soulmate case 2.0. But unfortunately, I made a panic purchase and got a simple Navy and Red case. It’s fine. I’ve tried to bond with it, but it just feels like someone else’s phone when I look at it, you know?

So I’m on the hunt.

I love these artful cases by Julia Kostreva. Feminine (can I use that word to describe an iPhone case?) and not overly complicated.

Julia-Kostreva--iPhone-6-Case-Indigo-Ombre-in-Nude--0_4766282d-7447-472b-bfb5-cfd351c878cc Julia-Kostreva--iPhone-6-Case-Spotted-Dot-Black--0Never not loving every single thing Rifle Paper does. I know everyone and their mom has this case, but it’s because it’s adorable.


This Ban.do one just makes me happy. iPhone6_BrushStroke_004_grande

I also love these illustrative cases from Leah Reena Goren (love pretty much anything she does!) and Sonix10965762_40600602015-10-21_1147

I feel like I am growing out of my phase of spending money on completely superfluous things like iPhone cases, until I am reminded of my recent “investment” on yoga socks. So there’s that. Maybe I’ll be getting one of these cases sooner than I would like to admit.

On My Wish List: Adult Lunch Box

Ever since starting my 8-5 office job in August, I’ve done my healthy, holistic, adult-lady very best at bringing my lunch to work everyday. I’ve had so many jobs in the past where I find myself heading out to pick up unhealthy and relatively cheap, but ultimately expensive meals. Everyday. My waistline and my wallet are always super bummed out at me when I majorly fail at planning ahead and pack a lunch and I’m just not into letting them down anymore. They have a hard enough time as it is. This goal not helped by the fact that my office is on a street lined with delicious (yes, delicious) fast food options AND my office provides lunch brought in from some of my favorite restaurants on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Lunches that I’m in charge of ordering. And picking up. Resulting in my car smelling richly of cheese pizza, burgers and fries and Mexican food. Not cool.

So far, I’ve done really well and I do my best to mix it up and make meals for myself that feel special, but a grand total of THREE of my coworkers asked if I was sick as the only logical justification as to why I would be eating soup out of a sad looking Tupperware for lunch. This while they each ate piping hot slices of cheese pizza right in front of my face felt. No. Not sick. I just like soup, OKAY!?

All this to say, all I want is for my beautiful, shining, hour long break from 12:00-1:00 is food that excites me and encourages me to carry on through the day, you know? Just a little, shining beacon of hope that working at a desk for 42 hours of my week isn’t actually crushing my soul.

Enter the metal lunchbox. This little baby has been on my wishlist for months, but now that I have a real reason to use it, I think it might be time to justify a splurge. There’s something old-timey and wonderful about it that reminds me of a small schoolboy taking his lunch to school during the Cold War. Maybe he’s named Nicolas. Maybe he’s not. Either way, it’s pure function with accidental style. A rare find.

That, and the fact that I like sections. In my lunches. And in life. More on this later.