October 14, 2011


When I began packing for my plane ride to the big city a few months ago, I realized I had way too much shit.  After a few days of pondering about consumer culture and whether or not any of my possessions were really worth anything to me, I decided to sell everything except a few choice outfits and seventeen pairs of shoes (trust me, this was cutting it down significantly).

Now, since I try to keep my shoes in the boxes they came in (easier to store and keeps then dust-free), this made it impossible or me to take all of them with me on the plane at once.  This was also true for my winter clothes, which are thick and bulky, and don't collapse very well into suitcase-friendly sizes.  I had already sat on both my suitcases multiple times in order to close them, bobby pins and makeup brushes shooting out the seems in every direction, so I had to say goodbye to half my wardrobe.  It went with Daphne to my mom's house, where it has no doubt been sitting in her poorly-ventilated front room beside three shotguns and few mediocre portraits of labradors with ducks in their mouths.

[Side note: My other half Daphne has apparently gained ten pounds, mostly because my mother and her boyfriend feed her subs and steak and leave the treats box where it can be easily broken into.  Ugh... as long as she's happy...]

My dad was supposed to truck Daphne and the rest of my belongings up the coast after the grape harvest last month, but apparently the grapes didn't fair so well this year, and the trip had to be cancelled.  This is fine with me, since I don't have loads of room for a keyboard and an antique red velvet chair, but I miss my dog dearly and OH YEAH, it gets fucking cold in New York and I need my winter clothes.  So, my mom threw everything, including my shoes (in their boxes!), onto a UPS truck.

Look what arrived!

Thanks, Mama!  The larger box was forty-seven pounds.  Woah.  The smaller was seventeen, and while much less impressive, I'm sure it made the walk up five flights of stairs quite miserable for the UPS man. Thanks, UPS man!

Daphne wouldn't fit in either of the boxes (because she's fat now).

And this is why I love the cooler seasons.  I get to wear wool dresses, heavy-ass coats and elbow-length gloves.

And look!  I finally have bag options!  Now I can give my poor little satchel a break for a while.  Clearly I'm a fan of bags the size of aircraft carriers.  And YEAH YEAH YEAH... I clearly have no excuse for not taking more style photos, but send me a photographer and then we'll talk.



  1. "...where it has no doubt been sitting in her poorly-ventilated front room beside three shotguns and few mediocre portraits of labradors with ducks in their mouths."

    Thank you for having relatives like this too.


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