Lazy Sunday, Redux

If it were professionally and socially viable, I would probably wear a men's sweater and a pair of black leggings every single day; this style would most likely seriously detriment my waistline, as I would no longer have any physically uncomfortable constraints, signaling me to cease consuming. It could be ultimately worth it, though.



Burnt orange is not normally a color I am drawn to, however, the soft Italian merino wool of this sweater was difficult to resist; lately, earthy tones, from camel to coffee to ochre and mustard have had a greater appeal. It is also wonderfully warm, which, despite the mild winter, is always a welcome attribute. Originally from Brooks Brothers, I found it at a consignment shop a few towns over, very inexpensive and very obviously barely worn. Evidently, the first owner was not attracted to the hue himself.


This lipstick is named something horribly misleading like "Classic Wine"; I was expecting a deeper, purple-tinged red, and it is actually surprisingly coral. Something reminiscent of an aged grandmother, hard butterscotch candy perched on her tongue, hidden behind her orangish painted lips. Still not really sure if I am sold on this tube yet; thankfully, it was a pharmacy find, and will do little harm to my bank account by retiring quietly in my medicine cabinet in the bathroom.





In my idyllic alternate universe, where I can suffice with stretch pants and men's wool sweaters alone, tall boots would probably be my only shoe; the warm caramel leather of this pair complements the rusty orange of my sweater.

Generally, I carry this vintage wicker and lucite handbag in the summer months, matching it with a simple crisp white dress or some white slacks. Again, it was a seamless addition to this brown color palette, so, fun to carry out and about for a quick jaunt.


This is what brunch on Super Bowl Sunday looks like; I am certainly no devotee to American football, but I certainly enjoy celebrating and recognizing all of our national holidays.

Lazy Sunday soundtrack: Early Piano Works Erik Satie, Rehearsing My Choir Fiery Furnaces