Saturday Brunch and Soliloquy in Red

On Saturday, before heading into the city for a bittersweet farewell party for my friend Peter, who is moving onto graduate school,with bright new opportunities, but again, moving on, the filmmaker and I took a stroll down the street to the local deli and prepared foods shop for some brunch. Strolling slowly, ambling in the sun, towards the promise of breakfast baked goods and caffeinated beverages, has become a weekend tradition, a monument and tribute to the fleeting moments of leisure. Our location of choice is C'est Cheese; I keep promising to explore the depth of their menu, but have simultaneously been seriously addicted to their Taylor Ham, egg, and cheese on a croissant. Next time, will shall overcome my conditioned response, prevail, and I will try a new sandwich or dish, though, I will forever recommend the breakfast sandwich.



This piece from American Apparel became, the other weekend when I went to the beach, much more versatile, as I decided to pull the waistband above the chest to create a dress; typically, I wear this cut as a skirt, high waisted, with my blouse neatly tucked in. I have this particular skirt-morphed-dress in navy, black, bright pink, and a turquoise with a gray band; realizing it can lead a double life has potentially validated owning such a silly collection.

The nude thong sandals I have owned for ages; seriously, I estimate since high school. They are a shoe that, since I have had forever and since at the time they were given to me they were too classic and traditional for my confused, harried adolescent mind to want to wear frequently, I almost always forget about, but then am pleasantly surprised when I find them again in my closet. Basic, clean, simple lines and a neutral color to match my entire wardrobe, they are comfortable for a quick jaunt to brunch or the store, yet also would be appropriate for a garden or pool party, cocktails on a patio, an array of casual summer social occasions.




I wear silk scarves for work constantly, especially in colder months; rarely do I wrap them turban-like about my head, however, when my hair feels noticeably messy, I sometimes feel the strong whim. While they do serve to keep hair from falling into my face or from being overtly ogled by passersby for its disheveled nature, scarves in the summer are always warm, no matter how they are worn. For my earrings, I chose plain red circular disks, very flat but large, which were a present from the filmmaker, and which match the scarf.

With simple navy and a basic, mostly shapeless structure to my dress, the red and white polka dot faux-turban adds some intrigue to the look, and a certain misappropriated, westernized exoticism, as I imagine would be in the vein of 1930s expatriate gilded girls sculpted in the texts of Fitzgerald.


When in doubt, this clear lucite bangle serves as a complementing partner to any look, even the most casual and carefree cotton strapless dresses.

A red handbag is such an essential piece; this vintage purse from the 1960s is a bit more of a statement with the gold embellishment and the long, rectangular structure, so, perhaps not recommended for everyday use. I, however, am not one to shy away from the bold or the unique, or the slightly impractical, and would like to use this bag more frequently. Inside, the fabric that lines the purse is a darling black, gray, and yellow stripe.

Offering ridiculous poses to the lens, manipulated by my filmmaker, while waiting for my croissant; clearly, the hunger and the intense anticipation for salty, crisped meat and melted cheese has caused me to lose some of my neural faculties. Joking aside, although a bit too bright, the sun battering my face, I love this photograph; it showcases my clavicle, one of my favorite bones in the body, and, through illusions and trickery, has somehow made it appear as though my lips are painted with some type of glitter. Magic.