Cherry Blossom Shag

These blossoms appear just outside our house right on schedule every March. I've been working a lot in our front room lately, looking out the window, watching people walk down our street all day. I can't tell you how many of them have stopped in their tracks under this tree. It made me smile every time to see someone indulge in a moment of reverie underneath the fluffy canopy of blossoms. They're already gone, but they did the job of announcing false spring, and even though the weather's getting nicer, I'll still have plenty of opportunities to wear my favorite new shaggy sweater until summer hits in October.

You wouldn't think it, but this sweater has the most perfect, cozy knit pockets. Unexpected pockets (especially in dresses) are the best.

I love sharks and am irrationally fond of this vintage shirt I stole from my husband when we got engaged.  Maybe some day we'll make it to Montauk.

Trench Appeal

See? False spring. It's stopped raining for the moment, but the billowing grey clouds signal it's not over yet. Perfect time to bust out the new-to-me vintage trench.

Saturday's Alright for Estate Saling

I've been getting back into the swing of weekend thrifting and estate saling lately, which is how I found this denim vest with battling French-sporty/70s trucker vibes. It's great for layering as we enter what I call 'false spring' in the Bay Area: the time of year that's filled with beautiful cherry blossoms and weather that lulls you into believing summer days are right around the corner, only to revert to rain and gusts of arctic wind to remind you that, yeah, not quite yet. And that's why you need layers. You know what makes a good layer? A denim vest. Go ahead, pretend it's not irresponsible to wear your fun spring dress when you know it's a smidge too cold. Here's some denim vest inspiration for you.

I wore this to an estate sale high up in the hills. It was mostly tapped, but the thrill of exploring the rooms, belongings, and detritus that made up someone's life can surpass even the thrill of a great find. This particular house, which you really could have called an estate, was full of crumbling grandeur and I assume, stories (were they ear doctors, or child psychologists, or both?).  I did find a giant vintage safe, made in San Francisco, a bottle of 1987 Australian fumé blanc, and a $1 tropical shirt, but sadly only the last item made it home with me. The l'esprit d'escalier of shopping needs its own word!