Archive for the ‘wanderlust’ Category



January 2, 2012

I’m floored by the beauty of these time-lapse photographs of golden butterflies in Japan. Their neon trails against the backgrounds creates images that look almost as if they were done with brushstrokes. I’m so inspired.

It looks dizzying and psychedelic. I love it.

Also, happy New Year’s, everyone! I’ve decided to stop being a bad blogger this year. What are your thoughts on 2012?



She hit pause

April 28, 2010

I bought the picture above at some holiday fair as a Christmas present for my stepfather. He likes the sea, art and pretty girls, so I figured it would be a good match. The picture was duly wrapped, presented, appreciated. Pretty girls + the sun were a win yet again. Done.

For some reason, though, I held on to the photographer’s business card, and kept on returning to his site to look at the shots. There’s something about the dreamy quality of these weathered Polaroids that brings up instant thoughts of half-destroyed vintage magazines and slow-motion summer afternoons. On his website, the shots are described as photographer Matt Schwartz’ “version of the pin-up girl,” and I can’t agree more. Their lazy sensuality is wonderfully captured on film in a sort of Endless Summer. I’d give anything to know the story behind all these shots.

Matt Schwartz for She Hit Pause Studios.


Coveting 3.10.10

March 10, 2010

This photo’s original intent  was to showcase the basket, but I really just want that fireplace, the ceiling and these walls in my life. I want them in the living room of my imaginary summer house. Across from the fireplace there will be a window that looks out over a garden and down into the sea. The garden has big bushes of lavender in it, and in the summertime bees fly lazily through them. The house itself is located up on a hillside, but you can pick your way down a rocky path to a little cove, unknown to anyone on the island. The beach there is rocky, but it gives way to sand, and we have a little dinghy anchored a little ways out, that we can take around to the other islands. Some days we put on masks and go diving off the rocks further out to hunt for sea urchins, which we crack open and eat on the beach with the rest of the lunch we brought down with us. When it gets a bit chilly, we wrap big faded striped towels around ourselves and race up the hill back to the house. Everyone collapses laughing onto the  couch in a tangle of tanned limbs and we sit there and gab until someone gets up the energy to wander into the kitchen for dinner fixings. At night we drink a bit too much wine and sit out in the garden and wonder at how dark it gets away from city lights.

Sound good?


Land Girls

February 16, 2010

I have a secret obsession with all-girl institutions. Growing up a tomboy, I’d read about British boarding schools and daydream about the joys of bosom friends and uniforms. When I actually went away to boarding school, some of my most fondly-remembered times were after hours in my all-girls dorm, where we’d cram ourselves in to a tiny little room barely big enough for a microwave and an ironing board and gossip the night away. I was never a very girly girl, but my imagination was always captured by instances of female camaraderie.

Recently, when thinking about women banding together, the Land Girls, or the Women’s Land Army, keeps popping insistently into my thoughts. These were the women who took over the agricultural jobs in the UK during WWI and WWII– a cow-milking answer to Rosie the Riveter. They were generally young girls who came in from the cities, rolled up their sleeves, and set about serving their country by making sure the  while the men were away at war. They plowed fields, tended crops, and turned trees into telephone poles. They were sexual revolutionaries and looked damn good doing it.

They were made famous through things like Angela Huth’s charming book and the subsequent film and  BBC adaptation (all of which I strongly urge you to pick up for a bit of period fun.) Land Girls were classic examples of cool girly style: badass enough to leave their homes and take up work on a farm, but still managing to  maintain an iconic freshly-scrubbed sexiness. Most of them tended to be pretty young girls, out away from home for the very first time, so you can just imagine what sort of racy stories they had to tell!  I love my mental pictures of rosy-cheeked lasses, freshly turned out in their practical little uniforms, heartily hauling barrows before putting on a quick slash of lipstick and heading off to town to flirt with the few boys left around. I’m sure I’m romanticising it quite a bit, but the accounts I’ve read of the time point to incredible adventures and stories of girls managing to be strong together at a time of great national hardship. What a time they must have had!

I’ve assembled a collection of pictures so you can see for yourselves the charm of the Land Girls.

The uniforms. How awesome is she?

Being inspected by the Queen!

America had Land Girls too. I dig the cute utilitarian outfits.

Reunion of former Land Girls. How much fun would it be to go out for a drink with them and hear their stories?

[via 1, 2, 3 (interesting interview), 4 (awesome resource), 5 (BBC site full of interviews and fun facts), 6 ]


January 11, 2010

Miyako and Haruko’s encounter, Yokohama. Photo by Noritoshi Hirakawa.



Film Still

December 30, 2009

Actually just one of David Terraza‘s beautiful photographs of Madrid, but doesn’t it look like the beginning to a story? It’s so perfect, it’s almost clichéd. The scene, any scene, just writes itself.



Role Model

November 3, 2009


I have a whole plan for when I’m 80. It involves  a motorcycle, a great wardrobe, younger lovers and general eccentricity. Perhaps a greyhound and a sword-cane. All the things I don’t or can’t properly indulge in now (though I can drive said motorcycle).  I’ve always found old women to be the epitome of cool. Their lives have made them a treasure trove of awesome stories, (I just got to hear my friend’s tales of her grandma’s life in Manchuria under the Japanese occupation… fascinating!) sage advice and shameless quirks. Most of all, 80 years on the planet pretty much guarantees that whatever clothes you end up . I’ve always loved seeing old Italian women when I’m home, in their perfectly refined coats and dresses, and aspire to dress like them. At the same time, I also find it endlessly apppealing when a woman has spent her life accumulating unique pieces and combining them in new and inspiring ways. That’s where Iris Apfel and her collection come in.


I remember first seeing her in a magazine spread a few years ago, and just fixating on her trademark big round glasses, which somehow managed to stand out to me through the splendid visual clamour of her clothing and jewelry. Then this weekend, amidst glorious girly bonding with one of my dearest friends, it was mentioned that there was an exhibition of her clothing at the marvellous Peabody Essex Museum in Salem. (Aside– if you’re ever in the area, go! The museum is a treasure trove of beautiful objects, and offers a fascinating insight into New England trade culture in the past, notably, beautiful Asian and Native American artwork.) We whipped out the laptops and rediscovered her and her wardrobe– along with paper dolls!—  and spent a good couple hours poring over the website. Or rather, constructing ensembles of our own out of the things they had to play with.


There are many wonderful things about her– firstly, that she is not the idle society wife that springs to (my) mind when the words “clothing collection” are heard. She’s accumulated a lot of clothing, but she has also turned her eye for aesthetics outwards from the fun-filled costumes she crafts for herself to a successful career as an in-demand interior decorator. Aesthetics is a whole lifestyle with her.


She also started the Old World Weavers textile company with her husband, Carl, drawing inspiration from her widespread travels for their replica period fabrics.


What I love most of all about Iris’ approach to clothing is how she manages to break free of her pieces’ backgrounds and use them simply as colours and textures, rather than thinking she needs to stay married to a certain kind of look. The result, with all the unexpected elements is beautiful and unusual. I also really enjoy her stated dislike of fine jewellery. I’ve always found myself much more attracted to organic forms and semi-precious stones than to faceted gemstones (though I wouldn’t turn down an Indian-style necklace made of gemstones) and I applaud anyone who agrees with me on this. It’s a much more interesting look. And I covet this turquoise and bearclaw necklace intensely.


Anyway, poke around and enjoy these other excerpts from her wardrobe, and be sure to go to the Peabody Essex website and play with the paper dolls!








Travel outfit, made with Old World Weavers fabric, custom-woven on 19th century looms. Because why shouldn’t you travel in head-to-toe tiger-print velvet?


And on top of everything, she and her husband are the cutest couple ever:


[via 1, 2, 3]