A year ago I would've told anyone that I hated cats and was the biggest dog person ever. Then I got two cats and I'm like the worst kind of parent ever who thinks that when they move their paw the event needs to be photographed from 87 different angles.
Converse are eternally cool. Plus when your kids look back at your old pictures you will look cool if you wear them... provided you wear the cream-colored Converse. The black ones will make you look like Avril Lavigne and your kids will make fun of you until Avril has some sort of nostalgic comeback in 2019.
I have this ongoing delusion that living in France would automatically make me the most glamorous person alive. That I would suddenly grocery shop in pearls and garden in an evening gown. Blogs like Chocolate & Zucchini do not help. It only fuels the idea that by moving to Paris I might also stop ordering takeout for every single meal, and finally grow those herbs I've been talking about for years. In jeweled pots. This is how I picture my everyday life in France:
When you rock a t-shirt you gotta party it up a little with a fierce blazer or Louboutins or a prom dress or something. Like my friend Kat said when we rolled up separately to an event with tees on top and our best designer skirts and shoes on bottom - it's all about casual on top and biz on the bottom. Like a mullet but the opposite.