Gimme All Dat Ivy Park
I've been thinking a lot about how to create a little more consistency in the randomness I write here. I've been holding back, outlining adventures, and providing little details, but not really
saying anything substantive. None of it has felt like it's contributed anything unique or helpful.
That stops today.
Before my dad died, he told me to never lose my writing. I've been struggling to find the kind of writing I want to do here, and what I want this creative outlet to look like. I'm reading Shonda Rhimes's Year of Yes and as she was talking about telling stories, it hit me that I needed to recalibrate how I talk about my life here.
Each time I talk about something I've done, a trip I've taken, a book I'm reading, a brand that speaks to me, I'll tell a story to go with it. As much as I love and appreciate my fashion bloggers, I know I'm not the perfect clothes horse or a next-level photog, but story is where I find myself most at home. The pictures may be a little underexposed or over-edited, but I'll do my best to keep the stories interesting, at least to me. They may be short or long. They might have some grammar errors. But I can promise that they will speak to my soul and give me a sense of purpose for what I put here.
So. Stories.
Stories, stories, stories.
When Raz and I had our engagement photos taken, I knew I wanted the shoot to be pretty aspirational. Very gritty, very fierce, very #goals. I didn't want just A Day In The Life. That bored me. I wanted to kick off our public commitment to each other above and beyond A Day In The Life. I love me a bold maxi, so I put together some looks with primary colors and lots of texture. Our photographer took us to the top of the old Amazon building in Beacon Hill for some of the shots, and had me do a Tyra booty tooch while feeling my fierceness.
When the photos came out, I got this text:
And if you have any Beyoncé stories you want to share with me, I'd love to hear them!
That stops today.
Before my dad died, he told me to never lose my writing. I've been struggling to find the kind of writing I want to do here, and what I want this creative outlet to look like. I'm reading Shonda Rhimes's Year of Yes and as she was talking about telling stories, it hit me that I needed to recalibrate how I talk about my life here.
Each time I talk about something I've done, a trip I've taken, a book I'm reading, a brand that speaks to me, I'll tell a story to go with it. As much as I love and appreciate my fashion bloggers, I know I'm not the perfect clothes horse or a next-level photog, but story is where I find myself most at home. The pictures may be a little underexposed or over-edited, but I'll do my best to keep the stories interesting, at least to me. They may be short or long. They might have some grammar errors. But I can promise that they will speak to my soul and give me a sense of purpose for what I put here.
So. Stories.
Stories, stories, stories.
When Raz and I had our engagement photos taken, I knew I wanted the shoot to be pretty aspirational. Very gritty, very fierce, very #goals. I didn't want just A Day In The Life. That bored me. I wanted to kick off our public commitment to each other above and beyond A Day In The Life. I love me a bold maxi, so I put together some looks with primary colors and lots of texture. Our photographer took us to the top of the old Amazon building in Beacon Hill for some of the shots, and had me do a Tyra booty tooch while feeling my fierceness.
When the photos came out, I got this text:
That was almost three years ago. Zach gets me. He got our vibe, and he said exactly the right thing, as Zach does. It's no wonder I've saved that text for years.
Several months later, I got another text from Zach while I was at work: "Got last minute tix to Bey and Jay tonight. It'll be your birthday present. Wanna?" We have a tradition of seeing "bad bitches" for my birthday each year (we've seen Adele, Beyoncé, and Taylor so far, and only one has resulted in our being threatened with face punches, but that's another story for another time).
So we went. It was top two most epic concerts of my life. We drank too much and scream-sang with Bey and Jay and discussed what she did while she was in Seattle (def something involving a helicopter, probably not the Four Seasons) and Raz picked us up and probably regretted it, but we were grateful. I wear my $55 On The Run Tour t-shirt when I need to feel fierce after a hard day.
Zach and I text about Beyoncé often. We discuss her new albums, dissect her music videos, and sing the praises of her boss bitch bidness moves.
Which brings me to
Ivy Park. Since I'm currently living the housewife life, I have few reasons to wear anything besides workout clothes. Beyoncé collaborating with Topshop and making me bad bitch workout outfits at reasonable price points? Shoooooot. Girl's gone and done it. Again.
Good on ya, Queen Bey. Check out the Ivy Park things I put on my Nordstrom Wish List...to start:
And if you have any Beyoncé stories you want to share with me, I'd love to hear them!