I used to have the coolest black hat. It was from Modcloth ages and ages ago; a sort of classic boater hat with a wide brim but in black instead of the typical tan straw. While I've gotten rid of a lot of things through the years for lack of necessity, I've also had the misfortune of losing a number of things. Funny how moving from one side of the States to the other and then back again and then up the coast and then across the ocean in the space of half a dozen years might cause you to lose a few things. Some I'm sure slipped away quietly in the night, unnoticed and mostly unremembered, but other pieces were (are) bitterly missed. My favorite pair of vintage brown loafers disappeared somewhere between Virginia and Washington State. My gorgeous black hat was lost between Virginia and Pennsylvania. There's a lovely little tan handbag that dematerialized between Pennsylvania and Northern Ireland...but today my thoughts are on that hat and my futile efforts to replace it. On a budget anyway; I've found similar hats online but outside my price point and recently settled on this hat. A similar style but a bit floppy--handy for the careless hat-wearer (which I am) since it's already a bit soft you can mash it into your bag or generally be a bit reckless with it since it won't wreck the shape. It's a hat that gets the job done, but I'm still dreaming of that hat I had once and how I would wear it now...
These polka dot shorts are an article of clothing that suffered the opposite problem to my departed hat (and various other garments). They're a pair of shorts I got and then decided I wasn't sure if I liked them and shoved them into some dark drawer. Instead of disappearing they lingered on, taunting me every summer with their polka dot quirkiness; demanding to know if I was ever going to finally wear them anywhere or let them linger on in back-of-the-drawer purgatory. They're the sort of piece that could evaporate and I would hardly notice or care, but on this sunny day I did finally release them from their prison and unleashed them on the world (or at least the beach). I can't handle the cold water here, so even on the warmest days, a good day at the beach for me is lounging in the sun with a picnic and a book. Polka dot shorts, a comfy tee, and sunscreen make the perfect beach-wear for my Irish summer.
P.S. Anyone else catch the Freaks and Geeks reference in my tee? Discos and Dragons, man.

One of the most amazing sartorial feelings has to be when you slip into a vintage dress and it fits like a glove. Heck, it's an amazing feeling when you slip into any dress and it fits perfectly. We might have more clothing options these days, but no matter what your size is, buying a size at a shop today (versus the custom fit creations of yesteryear) means buying something that fits you ok. It's a tradeoff for our modern privilege of walking into a store and having hundreds of options; back in the day the selection was more limited and closets were smaller. You might not have many clothes but they were almost always made for you; not by a generic size range, but specific to your measurements. Not just the measurements of your bust and waist, but every inch in between and sleeves measured to your wrists, shoulders measured, etc! To be petite and a vintage fashion enthusiast almost automatically means to know how to sew or the name of a good tailor because clothes so rarely fit off the rack. People assume as a petite person I'm usually altering hems of dresses, but actually it's the torsos that usually are my biggest problem area--waistlines hit closer to my hips and shoulder seams dangle down towards my elbows. I know it's not a "me" or even a petite problem, it's the way clothes are made these days, but it also means when you find something that fits wonderfully it's a revelation. That's how it felt when I slipped into this little vintage dress from So Loves Vintage. It's even more remarkable to find a vintage dress that fits so perfectly since you can't try the same dress in several sizes--trying on vintage is a take it or leave it moment, either it works (or can be made to work which is why a good tailor is essential!) or you leave it behind and wonder if you'll ever find something like it again. But this dress, this dress feels made for me. Perfect in cut, color and the fit; as if someone had painstakingly taken every measurement and fit the garment to my body's every quirk. It's the sort of special find that keeps me addicted to vintage. This dress fits my 50s leanings, but there's so many other tempting pieces in the So Loves shop right now--my favorites are this perfect crochet dress ala Jane Birkin and this embroidered blouse that looks ripped from the high street stores (instead it's vice versa). I don't think they would be the perfect fit for me, but for someone out there they could be a revelation...

You can't really talk about vintage models without covering Suzy Parker, who's icy sophistication defined glamour in the 1950s on dozens of magazine covers. Known for her elegant, aloof appearance in front of the camera (likened to Grace Kelly), in person she was a chatterbox dubbed "my most challenging muse" by Richard Avedon. When she later became an actress photographer Horst quipped that "maybe she could do for the movies what she never did for me--hold still." Audrey Hepburn's beatnik-turned-reluctant-model character in Funny Face was actually inspired by Suzy Parker (who also makes a cameo in that film). Still despite her chattering tendencies, Suzy Parker became the first model to earn more than $100 an hour and more than $100,000 a year. Some of my favorite photographs of her come from later in her career, where she is studying scripts for films--her natural beauty shines in those images--red hair, green eyes, an abundance of freckles, and a sort of elegant repose. The fancy clothes are packaged away, there are no professional hair or makeup artists on call, and yet you still can't take your eyes off of her...

Hello summer! This year just seems to be flying by--blink and it's another month or season! I'm hoping summer lingers for a bit since it might be my favorite season. At least it has been my favorite season in the past (and I still love the warmer weather and simple clothes), but lately I'm not sure what my favorites are. It's funny when you blog for so long there's a very real record of what you "love" and yet slowly over the years these things shift. Things that felt authentic and "me" in the past feel more hazy now. You can dig through these archives searching for "favorite" and find a myriad of seeming contradictory things. Clothes I thought I'd wear forever or at least keep have been donated or sold because I wasn't as attached to them as I thought I was (and you can't bring everything you like when you move across the ocean). Other things I thought I'd always treasure have also been donated or at least shelved in the last few years. Bright nail polish used to be a signature part of my look and yet in the last year I've been addicted to neutral colors on my nails. It's a small detail, something maybe no one else would notice, but in college I used to wear different bright colors on each hand (sometimes on each finger). Yet lately even when I manage to paint my nails a bright color I usually switch back to my Maybelline "Second Skin" within a day or two. I think this is the way most of us change, in small, perhaps unnoticeable ways that we only notice months after the fact. Heraclitus said you can not step into the same river twice. The river is in flux; the waters are always changing and whether a minute or a month has passed, the river has changed since your last step. But we are also the rivers that shift; our banks ever-changing and being worn by the waters around us...Still I think I might paint my nails a bright color for my holidays; a reminder of what once was second nature.

I do like a good day trip. There's so many places near me to explore that don't require an overnight stay or long drive, so you get all the adventure of exploring somewhere new and the comfort of your own home at the end of the day. One of our most recent day trips was to the lovely Rowallane Garden; in full disclosure it was more of an afternoon trip finished with a chippy stop at the hilariously named "Eating Options." The gardens were founded in the 1960s and have expanded from there into a mix of formal and informal grounds. We spent most of our time enjoying the stately walled garden which seemed almost at peak lush. The perfect place for a little wander or sit and enjoying this lovely early summer weather. My new Modcloth dress seemed a perfect fit for the landscape with vintage wildflower book print; it's quite different from my usual silhouette (more fitted on top and a clearly defined waist) but I there's something very nice and breezy about this dress. It reminds me of the more relaxed 1920s day silhouette of handkerchief hems and floaty layers.