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2 minute read 2 minute read Ready, set, RENT!
3 minute read
I often get asked what my dress collection looks like and where in the world I store it. Simply put, here are my two answers. 1. It looks like an overflowing mess and 2. I really don't have anywhere to store it, especially since moving to New York City last year. While both of my San Francisco apartments were kind to me in the walk-in closet department, I have to say, finding a similar storage situation here in New York, especially in the West Village, was next to impossible. So I make do with one bursting at the seams closet and one very precariously balanced rolling rack. And shoes perched in nooks and crannies.
First world problems aside, I've been meaning to find a better way to really streamline what's in my closet. I'm trying to be much more discerning about what comes in and stays, evaluating each piece and how much joy it actually brings me. By now, you've probably all noticed I have a major soft spot for all kinds of dresses -- some more statement than others -- a lot of which, have been with me for years (a sign of a great dress!). It also means, when it comes time to do spring cleaning around these parts, I have a hard time deciding which ones have true staying power.
With spring already here, and cleaning not far around the corner, I'm excited to be partnering with Closet Collective, a new rotating closet community that allows you to rent pieces from other stylish women, most of which start at only $45. I love the idea of my dresses getting a bit of new life and styling and similarly, I love being able to throw in a few new-to-me additions into my closet rotation without the commitment of buying yet another piece to store.
I've rounded up a few of my favorite dresses and collected them here, all available to rent now. But please do let me know if there's a particular dress you've been meaning to borrow from me but never really knew how to bring up the topic -- I'll see what I can do.
As an added bonus, the folks at Closet Collective are offering your first month on the service for free, with a $20 discount off your first rental. Simply enter the code KRYSTAL at checkout.
OUTFIT DETAILS (In order of appearance): Marchesa dress // Lanvin dress // Kate Spade dress // Proenza Schouler dress // Suno dress // Thakoon dress // Tibi top // Halston dress // Nicole Miller dress // St. John ball gown skirt
Make sure to shop my closet here!
This post was in collaboration with Closet Collective. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
4 minute read
When it comes to my weekly routines, I've had a touch and go relationship with Sundays. In fact, I used to hate them. Don't believe me? I've written about it quite affectionately several times in the past, here and here. And I'm probably not preaching anything new here to y'all. Sunday scaries, otherwise known as an excuse for millenials to brunch way late in the day, spend a lot of time on social media into the evening and then wonder how they're going to get everything done before Monday morning meetings start. Until eventually saying "f- it" and picking up a cheap bottle of wine instead.
I've definitely succumbed to this. Heck, I still do from time to time. We're only human after all. And us humans like to get distracted.
But you know what? I think I've finally turned a corner. It only took me 30 years to realize that Sundays aren't ALL that bad.
For me, it all comes down to little pleasures and routines that I can look forward to. Sundays are usually my day for both rest and catch up. I don't run or exercise on Sunday (my one day a week to just veg), I usually have a longer phone conversation with my mom (it's hard to fit in during the week sometimes with the time difference), laundry gets done, Elvis gets an extra long walk to Washington Square Park and I spend a bit more time in bed in the morning reading the Sunday New York Times.
I try not to focus on work-related catch up until later in the afternoon/early evening when I'm more settled inside for the rest of the day. That's when Elvis and I put on some tunes (either country music or Michael Jackson) and the laptop comes out. I'll get caught up on email, edit photos, organize my editorial calendar for the week -- all the while, usually with a face mask on and House of Cards playing in the background.
We've talked about skin a great deal lately (my last post here) and I have another big skin update coming your way soon, namely about some hormonal prescriptions my dermatologist has me on, but the general spoiler alert is this: I'm slowly getting more comfortable in my early 30s skin. Granted, no one warned me that things might shift and change in this department, post teenage years, but hey, there's a lot of things you don't get warned about in life -- sh*t happens and you gotta roll with it.
So rolling with it, I am.
What does this mean for my Sundays exactly then? It's my chance to pamper my skin and have my own little girls night in with Elvis. If I can avoid it, I'll forgo makeup for the day, lather on some of my best body creams and slap on an ionic clay mask, like this one by Botanics. Since my skin has been on the oiler side in recent years, I love using a clay mask once a week -- it's much more absorbent and effective at drawing out impurities in my skin, like blackheads and the early stages of zits. This particular mask contains willowbark (a natural, friendlier form of salicylic acid), which I've found has really made a difference in tightening and minimizing my pores (because, hey, I got big pores and I cannot lie).
The downside though? Elvis hates it when I wear my masks -- it's as if he doesn't recognize me. I guess he's the one with the Sunday Scaries now.
If you're looking to revamp your Sunday routine (or maybe just want to update your mask game in general for a little Botanics Mask Night), Botanics is giving away their latest ionic clay mask to lucky readers in honor of #EarthWeek. Simply head over to their Instagram now, follow their account and be sure to leave a comment on their #EarthWeek giveaway post. Best of luck!
This post was in collaboration with Botanics Beauty. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
2 minute read
Top and pants: Kendall & Kylie; Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Celine; Choker: Net-A-Porter ribbon
On a gingham kick like me? Great. Here's a few of my favorites from around the web shopping aisles these days. It's like Dorothy grew up, moved away from Kansas and started wearing crop tops.
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2 minute read
I take my Taco Tuesdays very seriously. So seriously in fact, I get gussied up for the occasion. On that note, who's ready for an early ceviche and fish taco lunch? First round of margaritas is on me.
3 minute read
Dress: Otte NY; Jacket: Old Navy (old, but contemplating this jacket here for an update); Shoes: Steve Madden; Sunglasses: Celine
You can take the girl out of the West Coast, but you can't take the West Coast out of the girl.
It's true. It really is. As much as I've reflected on the past year (how crazy right -- it's been an entire year since I've moved to New York!), I've undoubtedly loved my time living on the East Coast. The pace, the energy, the people, the cities and of course, the learning experiences it's brought along the way -- definitely worthy of a life update post, which I'm working on at the moment. One thing I will say though is that I have to had to learn some new driving skills to keep up with the New York pace! If you want to learn about defensive driving new york is certainly the place to do it. The roads are very different to what I am used to on the West Coast. Thank goodness there are so many traffic schools in New York that can help people master the art of defensive driving.
But there's something about returning to California, even for just brief weekend visits, that remind me how much I loved my time living there as well. Nostalgia is a funny thing isn't it? It floods back almost all at once at the smallest triggers, a sunset, a song, a long drive home. And you're suddenly remembering former versions of yourself, former afternoons you've spent and the people along the way. Whenever I head back to California, no matter how brief the visit, I try to get my hands on a car -- any car -- to just drive down Highway 1 right before sunset. This past visit I was lucky enough to partner with Sixt Car Rental, who graciously offered this Mercedes GLA you see here. It was the perfect steed to literally drive off into the sunset -- and with the right oldies blasting on the radio, I couldn't help but smile about all the good memories California holds for me and will likely always hold for me.
This post was in collaboration with Sixt Car Rental. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
5 minute read
Floral dress: Cynthia Rowley // Wetsuit: Cynthia Rowley (mine and Christine's); White dress: Reformation (from last summer, similar style here); Hat: Hat Attack
There's an interesting thing that happens when you embark on a cruise ship. OK, actually, there's a few interesting things that happen. The first, and probably the most obvious one, is that you immediately become painfully aware of your balance (or lack there of once the ship starts sailing). And the second, you will never really understand what a nautical knot is. Trust me on this. Many of the staff will try to explain it, but your landlocked brain, much like mine, will find it hard to grasp. And the third? At times, you'll find yourself wondering how you could possibly eat another meal, but once that fresh mahi mahi comes out of the kitchen, you forget all your stomach woes.
As for what else happens on a cruise ship? Well, the rest is nothing short of an adventure (which trust me, I had my reservations about at first -- but am now a proud believer). And to borrow from my friend David Foster Wallace's piece on cruise ship sailing (mainly the writing format, not necessarily his sentiments about cruising in general), I'd like to share with you a little slice of our week long experience, sailing through the Caribbean Sea with Celebrity Cruises aboard the Silhouette last month.
Ready? Great!
I can now say that I've done and loved the following...
I've watched some of the most amazing sunrises over stretches of nothing but ocean. And then watched some of the brightest burning sunsets I've ever seen, turning the sky the most amazing shades of pink and orange and a really soft shade of fuchsia. I've cracked my stateroom balcony door each night, just to hear the hum of the ocean. And before finally dozing off each night, I was amazed at how well the sea can softly rock you to sleep.
I've tried the most amazing ceviche made my a man named Dwayne in St. Maarten. (We then tried to convince Dwayne to move to New York to open another restaurant there. He didn't bite but was flattered by the offer.) I've sailed around the waters of St. Kitts on a catamaran, sipping a locally brewed beer. I've hopped around the cobblestoned streets of San Juan, Puerto Rico, amazed that each building was more vibrantly colored than the last.
I've sipped a margarita before noon. I've eaten my own weight in fresh fish. I've mastered the art of "days at sea" -- days where your captain high tails it to the next stop -- giving you the excuse to just lay by the pool with nothing to worry about other than what cocktail you should order next.
I've had the pleasure of meeting some of the most incredible staff around, including the captain of the ship -- all of them hailing from different parts of the world, with different stories to share. I now know how the many kitchens operate on board such a large, floating hotel (and it's nothing short of a science!). I've seen how an entire boat gets into the St. Patrick's Day spirit (and may have even joined a conga line briefly for the occasion).
I've watched Broadway-caliber shows each evening (many of which left songs stuck in my head and my foot tapping well into dinner). I've watched how world-class chefs shop at local island food and fish markets (the trick to fish is to make sure the eye is still bright and not clouded over!). I've taken the most amazing naps in one corner hammock on the 12th floor deck. I've run 4 miles each morning at sea (and was surprised at how well I managed to not notice the rocking of the ocean while on the treadmill).
I've finally learned how to remember the difference between port and starboard (left and right, respectively -- just think "port" has 4 letters just like "left" does). I've sipped a 12-year aged rum that made me rethink my love of whiskey. I've experienced impeccable hospitality -- from my stateroom attendant to the captain himself -- all of them sharing the same goal -- to get us to just relax. And smile.
But perhaps best of all, I shared everything above with some of the best travel companions around. Thank you Ali, Christine, Lisa, Tommy and Stuart for being the best sea-faring expats a girl could ask for.
And thank you Celebrity Cruises for reminding this at times crazed New York girl it's OK to just unplug for a bit. And sip a Corona (or two) before dinner.
This post was in collaboration with Celebrity Cruises. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
3 minute read
There's a favorite T.S. Eliot quote of mine and it goes like this:
"At the still point, there the dance is."
While we could discuss (at great length, I'm sure) what this excerpt means to each of us, I simply wanted to share how much it's actually impacted me on this particular trip to Paris with my mother. While seemingly every memory, every sunset, every skyline, every meal is inevitably documented for some social channel or another, I can't tell you how comforting it was to just sit back this past week and be present. With my mom. And snap photos when I felt like it. And just be a tourist when I felt like it. And just be a daughter when I felt like it (OK, I was a daughter the entire time, to be fair). And just let my inbox get a bit messy. And share when I wanted to. And not share when I didn't feel like it.
I'm by no means complaining or bemoaning what I (and plenty of other entrepreneurial millennials) do. In fact, I love it. And of course, I shared bits and pieces of my trip along the way. I'm just saying it's nice to take a step back from time to time and appreciate the dance, even in the still moments. It's necessary.
That said, I'm officially checking out of our Paris home away from home tomorrow morning with renewed vigor and some pretty sore legs from the marathon, ready to tackle some exciting projects, BIG updates and a lot more personal writing pieces. Some good, some not so good and some just downright weird (which hopefully makes them even better?). You be the judge.
In the meantime, I meant it when I said it last time, watch this space. Plenty more to come!
2 minute read
Apologies for the lack of normalcy around these parts. There are a few (big) exciting things in the works that I'll be sharing very soon -- but in the meantime, I'm just trying to stay afloat while gearing up for the final week before my marathon in Paris next Sunday. I'm excited to be hopping over the pond (this time with my mom!), for a long overdue visit to the city of light. My last trip to Paris was as a broke college student and it happened to be the middle of February (it snowed on us while we went to the top of the Eiffel). This time around, I'm looking forward to some spring rain as we hop from cafe to cafe.
Watch this space -- more to come very soon, I promise!
3 minute read
"Two drifters off to see the world. There's such a lot of world to see."
Sometimes there's moments that literally make me stop in my tracks. Have you ever experienced that? A slightly surreal, out-of-body consciousness that overcomes you -- where you have to remind yourself to rejoin the moment, instead of appreciating it from the outside? I can vividly recount some of these moments on two hands -- Easter morning at the Vatican when the Pope came out to address the morning mass, floating high above Cappadocia, Turkey in a hot air balloon, saying a prayer at the Western Wall -- for a few minutes, you're suspended, almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, but until it does, you sit and smile and revel in it.
And sometimes these moments aren't all that significant in the scheme of things either. Take an afternoon at Central Park, for instance, on one of those early spring days that lure New Yorkers out of their winter habitations. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just sunshine on your face and the promise of spring around you. And then you happen to stumble your way over to Bethesda Terrace, as children run by, street performers are dancing and one solo guitar player is strumming "Moon River" ever so gently into the early afternoon air.
It's enough to make you stop. In your tracks. And hope that no one wakes you up from your daze.
4 minute read
Top: Vetta (borrowed); Skirt: Nicholas (from last year, similar style here); Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Saint Laurent; Sunglasses: Celine
It was election night, November 4, 2008, around roughly 8pm in Reno, Nevada. At this point in the day, I had already been waiting outside several polling places for hours -- schools, community centers -- where children's artwork scattered the hallways -- while inside voters quietly cast their ballots. What was I doing exactly? I had already cast my vote earlier that day, proudly wearing my "I voted" sticker across my chest, and was now politely stopping people as they exited, asking them who they had voted for as part of the Sparks Tribune live exit poll update. For context, Reno and Sparks, both situated in Washoe County, were contested cities in a contested county, that could literally swing Democratic or Republican at the drop of a hat -- in turn, swinging Nevada Blue or Red. And yes, possibly, definitively swinging the election in favor of Obama or McCain. And in some small way, at least to me, I was in the middle of it, waiting to see how it would all pan out.
I stood there, idly, texting my editor all the while, notepad in hand, waiting for moms, dads, college students and grandparents alike to shuffle past me as they left. "McCain" and "Obama" got casually thrown around left and right, as I furiously notched away tally marks on my notepad. From what I could tell that evening, and from what I could sense in the weeks leading up to the election, it was anyone's game. And my tally marks sat there, staring back at me, as if shrugging their shoulders in agreed confusion. I called the evening at 9pm, updated my editor with my rough tally marks and exit quotes, and headed to my next assignment for the evening -- to cover the Democratic watch party at a nearby hotel/casino, as a colleague of mine went to cover the Republican watch party. I don't think that I could have wished for a better venue to cover the election. Everyone needs to go to a casino at least once in their life, or if this isn't possible, you could always look at sites like bossku club and the games they have on offer because this becoming an even more popular way to earn more money. Of course, I didn't have time to check out the games that were in the vicinity, so I may need to get my fix online instead. But for now, I had more pressing concerns to worry about.
"Your love keeps lifting me higher..." a deep, recorded Jackie Wilson's voice belted over the loudspeakers as I entered that grand ballroom at the Grand Sierra. Large TV screens set up around the room had every major television network blaring live updates as states reported their vote counts. Blue and red lighting up the United States map like a paint by numbers set. The room had this palpable energy, buzzing with electricity and purpose -- a common goal uniting young and old, of different backgrounds and races together. I took it all in (as unbiased as possible, since I was on assignment), but it was hard not to get swept up in it. I took a spot on the floor, cross legged, to watch CNN and listened to the conversations going on around me. Absorbing every little detail of the evening that I could.
Now, it's been years since that evening and I can't tell you what I was wearing and the boyfriend who met me there that night is no longer in my life, but I still vividly remember two elderly African American women sitting in front of me, also on the floor, their arms wrapped around each other, slightly rocking back and forth. As Nevada reported their results (Blue!) and other western states followed suit, I watched their reaction, taking breaks from clasping hands to clapping their hands, until finally the election was called -- and Obama had won. I watched them both break into tears and an infectious laughter simultaneously.
And I couldn't help but tear up at the sight of it, as Jackie Wilson continued to play on the overhead speakers.
I still think of that night every time I've gone to go vote since then, and in some way, in sharing this story, I hope it makes you think of a time when you realized your voice and your vote mattered, too. Regardless of what party, candidate or issue you support, it makes a difference. You make a difference.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to drop off my voter registration form for the state of New York in the mail.
3 minute read
I mentioned this on Instagram the other day, but the next few weeks I'll be hopping around a lot. Last week's cruise in the Caribbean kicked things off, I'm currently in NYC this week until Friday, when I bounce to SF for a few days (to do my taxes and a fun video project) and finally, Paris for a week (and that marathon I've been training for). Needless to say, my bags are in a state of unpacked/packed limbo at the moment, my laundry pile is embarrassingly high and my email inbox, even higher.
Despite the crazy long to-do list before I leave again, I can't wait to set things into motion. I like to think I'm at my best when things around me are moving quickly and I'm working under deadline -- I think it's the former news reporter side of me kicking in. I used to love working in a newsroom (and often find myself missing it) -- the pace, the adrenaline, the feeling after a long deadline night wrapping up. I loved that no two days were the same, there was always a new source to talk to, a new location to hop over to and a new story to tell. It was chaotic and frantic and yet, somehow comforting once you saw it all in print the next day.
It's a former life that I miss from time to time -- one that I think I'll need to return to eventually in some capacity. Until then, it reminds me of this excerpt from a poem I came across on @FrassyAudrey's Instagram the other day (she has beautiful stuff, you should really go follow). The poet is Lang Leav and the excerpt goes:
"Sometimes I picture all my other selves, standing in line like a row of dominoes; separate but part of the same disjointed whole. How can I hold a single one accountable?"
2 minute read
Top, pants and jacket: Veronica Beard (gifted); Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel via The RealReal; Sunglasses: Celine; Bracelet: Miansai
Raise your hand if whenever you walk alongside the perimeter of Central Park, you can't help but think of one of the last scenes of Cruel Intentions when Ryan saves Reese? Yeah, me too.
4 minute read
Confession: I don't like being in photos. Never have. And likely, never will.
Now, this may seem strange considering I write a blog where I post photos of myself, every day. Actually, it may seem pretty counterintuitive. Or perhaps even neurotic that I, someone who shies away the camera, could keep up with this for over 7 years. And it's something that I thought would get easier with time (and in some ways, it has), but the bottom line remains, if my photographer and I shoot together for longer than 20 minutes, I get anxious.
It's not that I necessarily hate the process of taking the photos (I mean, we hopped down to the subway the other day and had a lot of fun dodging crowds and capturing the movement of the trains). I really do love the art direction and story telling involved in it. What sets me off is more the idea of my face being in the shots -- it leaves me unsettled. Suddenly, my insecurities, as if I'm a teenager all over again, come flooding to the forefront of my mind. "Who do you think you are? You're not tall enough to pull this off. This angle is all wrong for you and your arms. Everyone can see how awful your skin looks here." And I don't think I'm preaching anything new or surprising here. We've all been in this position: our critic and sometimes our biggest enemy, is ourselves. Especially when it comes to our self-image.
As I've entered my late 20s and now early 30s, I've gotten much better at quieting these doubts and self-inflicted insults. I know where they stem from, I know that most of them are only in my head and I know the ones that perhaps have some truth behind them, are by no means, worthy of ruining my day or my outlook. I'm a healthy, active 30 year old living my longtime dream of writing and living in New York, with many other blessings in my life to be thankful for. If I happen to breakout or I'm not feeling as thin or as toned as I would hope in a certain dress, it's a first world problem and I need to put into perspective as such.
Of course, I'll be the first to admit, it's not easy to do every day. Especially with the ease to which social media makes comparing your life to this person or that person -- it's a relatively slippery slope, even for the most positive of people (which I do consider myself one), to not slide down. As supportive and accepting as I think we can be of others (again, not a perfect situation either), we still hold ourselves to these unrealistic expectations of what we think we should look like and be like -- and, unsurprisingly, always coming up short and disappointed.
And we're usually the first and the only people to point it out about ourselves.
That said, when Dove approached me about their latest #SpeakBeautiful campaign, I couldn't have nodded my head faster. In an effort to change how we portray self-worth and self-image online, Dove has developed an algorithm that will essentially measure your 6 month Twitter history, looking for key words and phrases, to provide insight into how your words impact others. And whether you recognize it or not, words are powerful. So powerful. And the minute we can start impacting the tide of how women view their own beauty and body-image and empowering them to take control of it, I think we will have turned a pivotal corner. But it starts first with recognition.
I received my results just the other day and found the data breakdown fascinating. In general, my tweets have an overwhelming positive sentiment to them, and those pertaining to beauty and body-image, were actually 7% more positive (hey, go me!). But what I found even more interesting, were the simple take away actions. As it turns out, my positive tweet time window is between 6 and 8am, meaning, I'm more likely to say something body-image positive during this time, whereas most women, are more prone to tweet something negative about themselves between 9am and noon. And I totally get that. It's the grind of the morning, schlepping to work, rushing to that meeting without getting a chance perhaps to put yourself together just the way you would have liked. I've been there more than I would like to admit. A little task I've given myself lately is when I like something about someone's outfit, or hair or general attitude/look, I tell them. Because it takes 5 seconds for me to say, and sometimes, it's all it takes to turn someone's day around.
Have you guys had your tweets analyzed? Were you surprised by your results?
This post was in collaboration with Dove. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
3 minute read
Shirt: Jason Wu (from a few seasons ago, keep meaning to get this version here); Skirt: St. John; Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Elizabeth & James
Grand Central has these amazing walkways that criss cross back and forth running the width of the expansive windows flanking both sides of the main concourse. As the day unfolds, with morning light peeking through and eventually splashing onto the floor down below, you can occasionally see someone walk across -- usually in a hurry -- from one side to the other. I'm not sure who has access to those walkways. I can only imagine it's a very important person, rushing to fix a very important detail to the very important train schedule of the day. Or perhaps they're just a very savvy New Yorker taking a shortcut we don't know about? Either way, I always find this fascinating. Down below, we're caught in the chaotic rush of morning traffic, unrelenting schedules and the ticking of a grand clock. And high above, there's a quiet escape route, untouched by the madness. Unruffled by the flurry. Unaffected by time.
I like to imagine that someday, I'll eventually get to sit up there to watch the morning spill over. And then I also like to imagine that there's someone down below, looking up at me and wondering, just what I'm doing up there.
2 minute read
Top and skirt: Nicholas (from last year, love this similar set here and here); Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Celine
SoHo, home to incredible cobblestone streets, dizzying fire escapes and some of the most dangerous shopping you'll ever do. If that's not reason enough to skip through the 'hood, then I don't know what is.
2 minute read
Dress: Halston; Shoes: Oscar de la Renta (via The RealReal; there's a lace ODLR pair here that's to die for); Clutch: Vintage; Sunglasses: Celine; Bracelet: Miansai
Perhaps it's the fact that my dad is a lawyer. Perhaps it's the fact that I always admired Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. Perhaps I don't know the reason. But regardless, I've always loved courthouses. They look so regal and so polished; like nothing bad could ever happen to you there. And when that afternoon light happens to hit the New York State Supreme Courthouse down in FiDi, it's magic. Pure magic.
If you're just joining this little black dress series now, you can see yesterday's Tiffany's homage right this way.
2 minute read
Dress: Little Black Dress; Shoes: Saint Laurent; Coat: MM. LaFleur; Clutch: Vintage (gift from my sister); Necklace: Vintage (gift from my mom)
As you might have spotted on Instagram the other day, I'm currently out at sea with Celebrity Cruises (roaming around the Caribbean). But while I was away, I thought it might be fun to do a little tour of the city, that no matter where I go in the world, I'm always happen to return to: New York. There's something about touching down at JFK and seeing the skyline and the lights sparkle through the clouds below that gets my heart racing.
And since my heart gets racing for a little black dress as well, I wanted to pair the two together, a visual tour of the city in nothing but the most iconic dress any woman can own. An inseparable force. A dynamic duo, if you will.
First stop? Well grab your coffee, croissant and alligator shoes. We're heading to Tiffany's.
4 minute read
Jumpsuit: Self Portrait; Bag: Chanel; Shoes: Steve Madden; Sunglasses: Elizabeth & James; Necklace: Jennifer Zeuner
As someone from a relatively smaller town (well, Reno is called the Biggest Little City after all), there are a few things that would signify the start of summer for me, namely the first weekend camping trip of the season up to Lake Tahoe and the opening of the drive-in movie theater.
The latter holds a special place in my heart. There's just something so nostalgic about going to a drive-in theater -- the tuning of the radio station to the movie channel, grabbing popcorn and Junior Mints at the concession stand, cozying up with someone cute under a blanket as you settle in for your double feature under the stars on a warm summer evening.
Many of my weekend nights growing up were spent at the drive-in, with friends, with family and sometimes with that aforementioned cute someone. Each time, it made me experience the movie in a much different way than had I gone to a regular movie theater -- there's something much more tactile, experiential, sensory about it -- that makes even the most mundane of movies that much more enjoyable and memorable. Heck, I can still remember seeing one of the Transformers movies in college at the drive-in and while I can't stand that franchise (sorry, not sorry, Shia), I can still look back on that experience and my date at the time, and smile. I think it's why we love eating outdoors and drinking rosé the minute it hits 65 degrees outside. It transports us in a different way.
All of that being said, you can imagine it's been a few years since I've gone to the drive-in. And I do miss it. Dearly. So to my surprise and delight, the folks at Celebrity Cruises recently invited me to their take on the drive-in -- with a twist. As part of a new experiential initiative on a few of their cruise lines (primarily the Asia, Alaska, Caribbean Bermuda and South America trips), they're introducing A Taste of Film, a dinner and movie experience, where cruise goers can enjoy a movie screening under the stars on their rooftop terrace, while different courses, each paired in time with pivotal meal moments in the movie, are brought out to enjoy. Each film is selected for its relationship with and centering around food and a destination -- think along the lines of "Julie and Julia" or "Chocolat." For our evening just last week, we watched "The Hundred-Foot Journey," the story of a young Indian chef's journey to earn a coveted Michelin star. The cuisine, as you can imagine, blended Indian flair with French flourishes. And Michelin-star chef Cornelius Gallagher did not disappoint (my personal favorites included: the Jerusalem artichoke veloute and the lobster feuille de brique). They say smell is one of your strongest memory triggers. Well, the minute I smelled truffle coming out for one of our main dishes, I was sold. And will likely not be forgetting that movie, that meal or that experience of the two together anytime soon.
Huge thank you to Celebrity Cruises for inviting me and reminding me how much I love watching movies outdoors (especially when great food is involved along the way). And I can't wait to set sail with you this Sunday (stay tuned -- we're heading to the Caribbean soon!).
Outfit photos by Lydia Hudgens + Event photos by Ben Hider
This post was in collaboration with Celebrity Cruises. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
2 minute read
On Krystal: Jacket: Alexander McQueen (old, dying over this current season one); Shirt: Thakoon X Kohls (sold out, but I love this brand for oxford shirts); Jeans: A&F; Shoes: Zara; Hat: MLB official Yankees; Sunglasses: Westward Leaning (similar style here)
On Christine: Checking with her now 🙂
You know what they say, you can take the New Yorkers out of New York, but you can't take the New York out the New Yorkers. Meaning, we will travel any and everywhere in a leather jacket. Even if the destination happens to be Austin and then a Caribbean cruise with Celebrity Cruises, which just so happens to be my travel schedule as of late. Luckily, I have one of my favorite partners in crime (and longtime friends -- can you believe we've been friends for 7 years?!), Christine with me for the better part of a week.
It's gonna be a busy next couple of days -- follow along on SnapChat to see more of what I'm up to (username: krystalbick). And in the meantime, while we're sailing next week, I have a fun week-long series coming to the blog, featuring some of my favorite little black dresses around iconic New York City haunts. Hint: it may or may not include me at some point eating breakfast a certain jewelry store.
Hope you all have a wonderful weekend! If I were you, I wouldn't make too many responsible decisions. 😉
2 minute read
Top: Sarah Lai; Pants: St. John; Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Elizabeth & James; Bracelet: Miansai
Guys, it's supposed to be 72 degrees today in New York. If that's not enough reason to skip (instead of walk) wherever you're going, then I don't know what is.
Enjoy the sunshine, New Yorkers. I, for one, will be skipping up to Central Park today. Follow along on SnapChat (username: krystalbick) -- Lydia and I will be shooting more fun pieces from Sarah Lai today (she's the designer behind this amazing, pleated top I have on here).
2 minute read
Vest: Marissa Webb; Dress: Frame (from last summer, similar style here); Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Ray-Ban
Ladies (and gentleman), in honor of International Women's Day today (and every day), I pledge to help women both in this country and elsewhere to achieve their ambitions.
And for those who haven't seen it yet, I cannot recommend the documentary Half the Sky enough. I've rewatched several of the episodes a few times now already (and have cried progressively more each time) but the underlying sentiment gets me every time: as a population, as a country, as humanity, we're only as good as the talent and workforce and minds that we foster and support. If only half that population is being put to use (that being men), we're doing ourselves a disservice. It would be like living without half the sky above us.
4 minute read
And in no particular order, I give you, 20 confessions of a New York City subway rider:
- I can never remember which trains are express and which make local stops. This usually results in me ending up many, many, many stops past where I originally intended to get off. Either deep Brooklyn or WAY Upper West. And I kinda end up feeling like this guy.
- Is it weird that I feel bad for the PATH train? It's like the red headed stepchild in the MTA family.
- I hate the revolving door subway entrances, mainly because it takes me a good 5-6 seconds figuring out which side has the gate arms that block your way. This has resulted in some embarrassing moments at rush hour.
- I will probably judge you if I can a. hear your music b. see what you're reading on your kindle or c. spot you playing Candy Crush. And I fully expect you to do the same with me.
- I follow @HotDudesReading on Instagram and I'm dying to snap a secret submission of mine own. The right guy just hasn't come along, I guess.
- Dear Subway, You smell really funky during the summer.
- Speaking of summer, interesting pedicures (or lack thereof) on the train when everyone is sporting their sandals. I'll let that one sit there for a while in awkward silence.
- This is how I feel when I successfully tell a tourist what stop they need to get off at in order to get where ever they're going.
- This is how I feel when a tourist asks me for directions and I have no clue what to tell them.
- At any given time, I probably have 54 Metro cards just sitting in my apartment, scattered at the bottom of different bags and in the pockets of multiple coats. Most of them probably have balance on them, too.
- I once saw Gabourey Sidibe on the A train.
- My dream subway companion would be Daniel Radcliffe so he could rap this song while we kill time on the 1 train (one of the SLOWEST trains in the mornings).
- I can't help but wonder, why was there NEVER a subway scene in SATC? #DeepThoughts
- My favorite subway station artwork is at 50th Street and 7th Avenue, where they have Alice in Wonderland tile work.
- Subway musicians get me every time. Especially if you're playing the cello. I'll probably just stay on past my stop to listen to you play.
- If you happen to be standing in front of an open seat on a very crowded train, WHAT POINT ARE YOU TRYING TO PROVE, MISTER?
- Randomly running into friends on the subway = one of those magical, serendipitous, "OMG, out of all the trains in NYC, you walked onto mine," moments.
- Dear Men, if most of the population can abide by the subway manners that are outlined in all those ads, can you please, please, please stop sitting with your legs SPREAD wider than the Grand Canyon?
- There are two types of subway riders: Those who LOVE making eye contact and holding it past the point of comfort. And those who AVOID eye contact like the plague. Unless you're Tom Hardy, I'm the latter.
- For as much as I love to complain about you and threaten to take a cab or an Uber instead, you're pretty fucking awesome, subway. And cheap. So thanks for that.
2 minute read
Blazer: Magda Butrym (borrowed); Sweater: Magda Butrym (borrowed); Jeans: 3X1; Shoes: Zara (old, similar style here); Hat: Eugenia Kim; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Ray-Ban
Sometimes, when your to-do list is miles long before you head out of town, you just need to throw on some comfy flats, a newsboy cap to hide your unruly hair and some cropped flared jeans (for optimal skipping/jumping opportunities).
And blasting some Simon & Garfunkel certainly doesn't hurt either.
Happy weekend everyone! Or perhaps more appropriately put: happy weekend where we all stay in and watch Season 4 of House of Cards. 🙂
2 minute read
Images sourced from Shopbop lookbooks // Collage made by Krystal Bick
For some reason lately, I've been feeling the urge to organize a big summer holiday! A lot of people ask me what my plans are for summer and it just feels like a short list so I'm wanting to add to it!
I know that I'm not the only one feeling this way - a lot of you have been telling me you're wanting to go to an Atlanta travel agency to see where in the world you can travel to.
Perhaps it's because of our first few 60 degree days here in New York. Perhaps it's the days that feel just a bit longer now. Perhaps it's Shopbop's big spring sale. Whatever the reason, I'm diving head first into the spring break, vacation planning, adventure seeking fever that seems to be distracting everyone this week.
Luckily, I have a few trips through March that are going to keep me busy, packed and, hopefully with a bit more luck, TAN. First up: Austin for SXSW, followed by a cruise through the Caribbean, San Francisco after that for a fun video project and finally, Paris to run their marathon on April 3rd.
In the meantime, I'm packing my proverbial bags with a few new spring goodies to get me in the jetset mood. Crochet swimsuits, spaghetti western inspired lace dresses and Baja-esque embroidery. Check, check and check.
Here are a few of my favorites, that if you combine yourself, you can snag on sale thanks to Shopbop's Big Event sale. Simply use the code BIGEVENT16 at checkout and get your suitcase and passport ready.
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February 29, 2016 — 34 Comments
10 things I learned from tinder {modern romance, dating and the infamous swipe right}
13 minute read
Dress: Line by K; Shoes: Henri Lepore Dezert; Sunglasses: Celine; Bag: Chanel; Lips: Marc Jacobs "Amazing"
This past weekend I finally got around to watching Aziz Ansari's Live from Madison Square Garden stand up act (if you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend you Netflix and chill soon). I've always been a fan of his writing, his stand up delivery and, as this live act reminded me, his musings on dating in today's mixed up, muddled up world of apps, texting and ghosting. In fact, this very post is an all too-delayed response to his summer New York Times bestseller, Modern Romance. I toted my copy with me all over New York, but primarily to the dog park with Elvis, where I proceeded to sit on a bench, devouring each page and from time to time, smacking my forehead laughing (by myself, mind you) at an all too-true point he had made. On several occasions, I'm pretty sure I said aloud (again, to myself, by myself), "Oh my god, I HATE when guys do that!" or "Guys like profile photos like that?!"
Yep. My fellow dog park attendees thought I was insane.
And perhaps I was (am?). If we evaluate my love life in 2015, it would be a messy, tell-all album, that is all too fitting for a Taylor Swift 1989 analogy. I welcomed myself to New York. I had recently gone through a pretty pivotal breakup. Luckily, we hadn't made any serious commitments so there were no legal complications to go through, just a clean break. However while I'm on the topic of this, I have recently heard that a number of law firms like Peters and May (visit Peters And May.com for more info) now offer emotional as well as legal support which I think is a brilliant idea; I'd welcome support from anyone to help me through something so traumatic. Anyway, my solution at the time was to go on a dating spree like I had a blank space to fill. I had to shake it off, when it came to a few relationships that I just knew, despite our best intentions, weren't going anywhere. And then there was some downright, nasty, all around no good, bad, bad blood.
But, alas, it wasn't in vain! I learned a lot. About myself. About what I want in a partner. About life. About this crazy world of dating in today's fast-paced, instant gratification seeking, environment. And while I by no means have it all figured out (ha, does anyone really?), I like to think I've gleaned a few lessons along the way. Ten to be exact. Because the alliteration was too good to pass up and I think the SEO might be higher for "10 things I learned from Tinder" as opposed to "7 things I learned from Tinder." But, I digress.
Before we start with our Tinder Truths, let's get a few housekeeping items out of the way. First, to any and all of my exes who may still read this corner of the internet, rest assured, this is not a kiss and tell. I won't be referring in great detail to the specifics of our relationship (if at all, really). So you'll have to look elsewhere if you're trying to figure out how to have the best sex in the higher consciousness, or for saucy details. I won't be shaming you either, because, hey, we learned a lot from each other -- thanks for that! I won't even use your name. Except for you, Matt. Women need to be warned about you. (Kidding! Kidding! There's no Matt. Or is there?) 😉
Next, I'm not a relationship expert. By any stretch of the imagination. Everything that follows here is my bumbling experience dating as a late 20 something (and now 30 year) old! So proceed with caution. And buckle your safety belt. I wasn't the most experienced online dater when I first got Tinder but after a friend suggested it, I had to try it out. She's been on almost every online dating site I can think of, including Geek Dating! I didn't even know that was a thing until she showed me but then I saw all of the guys she was talking with and had to get in on the action.
With that out of the way, let's begin!
1. The app landscape, you reap what you sow. This might be the most obvious place to start, and perhaps the most cliché, but either way, you certainly don't need me to tell you. There's a shit ton of dating apps. (And yes, the swearing was necessary there for emphasis). Seriously, I've lost count of how many times I've had a friend say, "Oh, have you tried this app yet?" and then proceeded to boast as to why the men were more a. normal b. responsive or c. (my favorite) less creepy. Because that's where we're setting the bar these days. Creeps need not apply, and yet someone keeps letting them into the party! (Insert groan here.)
And while I'll usually download each to give it a fair shot, I'm never all that impressed with the differences between them. Yes, perhaps I can message you first on this one. And on this one, your profile has been vetted by some faceless brand team (in San Francisco? in New York? in India?) to make sure you're of a certain education and employment pedigree. And on this one, I see how many friends (or 11th connection friends) we have in common on Facebook. But at the end of the day, we're just looking at each other's faces and how witty our one tagline is about ourselves. And then we wait for a match. And then hopefully one of us gets the guts up to send a first message. Tomat-OH. Tom-AH-to.
I have friends who bemoan dating apps, saying that it never goes anywhere. And part of me can relate to that. It's a lot of sifting and casting the net (but ideally not too wide), in hopes that there's a bite from a normal, over 6 foot guy, who loves puppies and can just as easily crack a joke about Bernie Sanders' hair as they can intelligently discuss their stance on why the United States should or not get involved in the situation in Syria. Not asking for too much, you know, the usual. But it doesn't happen right away. It takes some digging. What I've found is that the amount of time you're willing to invest in the digging, is a proxy for how much you'll actually like the good ones you do find. Because they're out there. Hiding. But they're there.
2. Ghosting, who ya gonna call (or not call)? I recently heard a stand up comedian joke about "ghosting," the act of just not responding to someone after you've been dating/seeing/talking to each other consistently. His punchline was that it's really not an appropriate name for it, being that, if they were "ghosting" you, they'd call you every night at midnight and let out a blood curdling scream.
Botched jokes aside, I think Aziz sums it up best in his stand up act. He asks the audience to respond (by applause), how they typically handle it when there's someone they don't want to continue seeing, the options being a. silence b. pretending to be busy or c. tell them the truth. As you can imagine, most folks opted to clap for the a. silence category. But when asked how they would hope someone would handle the situation if roles were reversed, unsurprisingly everyone clapped for the truth.
So at the risk of sounding like an after school special, let's be honest with each other. Because it sucks when people aren't honest with you. Or worse yet, just don't say anything at all and leave you wondering if their phone is permanently broken.
3. Playing games is like the Hunger Games, if you allow it. Let's get this one out of the way. Games suck. But maybe they're one of those necessary evils. Within reason, of course. Everyone has different ways of navigating them and how they want to balance them. I can be a really responsive texter or I can be a bit aloof, depending on how busy I happen to be that week with work and other commitments. If I ever don't feel like myself though, I try to cut it out. Fine, we both want to take hours to text each other back? OK, I got stuff I can get done in that time. But the minute I'm obsessing over whether my last text sounded "too eager" or had one too many exclamation points, then we have a problem. And I'll take a step back. As Efie would say, may the odds be ever in your favor.
4. If you have to make up excuses for them, then it's probably over before it started. We've all been there. We pass a phone around, asking our girlfriends to read a series of text exchanges with our latest "match" asking them to make sense of it all. "What did he mean by that?" and "Did I sound too eager there?" get thrown around, as if we need to diagnose the sick relationship. Usually, at this point, I'll look around the table at my friends. All of them confident, successful women. And I wonder why we're arguing over text semantics, especially when said semantics involve emojis.
The bottom line is this: If you're both genuinely into each other, it'll feel easy and unforced. And if you don't respond back to me for several days when I ask you to hang out, while I would love to make up excuses about how maybe you are out saving the lives of underprivileged children in the third world and somehow forgot to bring your phone, I know better. Your phone is sitting in your pocket and you would just rather not see me. Of course, there are exceptions here and there, but you can generally get the feeling when someone is giving you the slip. Don't waste your time making excuses for them. On to the next.
5. You both apparently need secretaries. Because, damn! Scheduling is hard! It's a frantic dance of "How does your week look?" // "Oh, maybe we can grab drinks on Thursday?" // "Shoot, I'm busy on Thursday and leaving town after work on Friday. Maybe next week?" // "Great! Tuesday perhaps? I know a great spot in the East Village." // Tuesday might work, let's check in on Monday."
And then Monday rolls around and you never hear from them again.
Aziz cites this in Modern Romance, urging that dating apps aren't actually dating apps at all. They facilitate you meeting potential dates. Whether you actually end up dating some of them, all depends typically within the first few days of exchanges. My MO: vet them long enough to get a sense of their humor (and decide if you like it) and try to throw in a few unexpected questions in the lineup to see how they respond (one guy asked me once 'what's something about you that I wouldn't be able to tell from your photos?' which I thought was vastly more refreshing than 'what do you do?'). Total time span: 2-3 days of texting back and forth max before one of you should suggest a meet up. Suggest a few dates that actually work for you and, assuming you're into him, stick to it (even if Netflix and wine sounds better for your Friday, you'll thank yourself later for just getting out there, I promise).
6. The text dance is a really complicated tango. And it takes two. Maybe this is another obvious one, but texting is the name of the game, isn't it? We don't call each other. We don't meet in real life right away. To me, you're a contact in my phone (usually saved with the last name of 'Tinder') and all we can do is make judgements based on social media presence and how articulate we come across via text. Personally, I appreciate creativity, humor and, yes, good grammar in my text conversations. And trust me, I will strive to do the same for you. Bonus points if you can throw in relevant current events and talk about things aside from what gym you go to.
Again, this comes down to asking engaging question that go beyond "what are you up to right now?" and try to get to the core of why either one of us should care what the other person is doing. This goes for guys and girls -- let's not bore each other, OK? Find some questions for a good conversation and ask your date some of your favourites!
7. Call! Just call! So you know that thing you use EVERY DAY for Instagram, SnapChat and texting? Well it's capable of calling people. You know, that thing we used to do where we exchanged messages in real time, voice to voice? As wrapped up as we are with our phones, it's funny to me that we almost never use them for actually calling someone. We could be in a burning building and would probably want to text 911 instead.
Don't get me wrong, I know I'm just as guilty of this as the next millennial but it's something I'm actively trying to work on. I remember the first time a guy I had been seeing called out of the blue and my initial knee-jerk reaction was to assume something was wrong. I answered the phone in a confused panic, anticipating him to tell me he had been in an accident of some sort, when in reality, he was just saying hi and that he was in the neighborhood and wanted to know if I'd like to grab a drink.
After the texting courtship, it's so nice to move to a little voice action -- you get to hear their laugh, their cadence in speaking and their comfort in moving from topic to topic that you wouldn't otherwise get to appreciate via text message. It's the subtleties that make all the difference.
8. Feast or famine? Depends on your attitude. Aziz talks about this a lot in Modern Romance and I think it's one of my biggest complaints about dating today. As easy as it is to meet a ton of singles at the swipe of an app, it's also our downfall, too, especially in large, metropolitan cities like San Francisco, New York and LA, where your potential matches are seemingly endless. In a city of primarily young, successful professionals looking for love, your soul mate could be waiting around the corner. And then a new one around the corner after that. And then another. And then another.
You get the picture.
You could literally be lining up your next 3 Tinder dates while en route to one.
In an age where meeting someone cute and new is as easing as binge watching How to Make a Murderer in one afternoon, we've gotten a bad case of dating ADD. We don't give the same time and attention to getting to know someone anymore -- and as a result -- we go on an endless carousel of first dates because we don't want to commit too quickly to the first person we really like. What about those 10,000 other singles waiting for me? I don't know about you, but that just sounds exhausting to me.
The fact is, you're probably going to go on a lot of first dates and that's important! Some good, some bad, some downright scary. And then you'll have a few GEMS, where you really hope to hear from them again. My two cents? Forget the games. If I've had a great date with someone and I hope they ask me out for a second, I'll follow up (with a text) either that night or the following morning letting them know I had a great time and thanking them for the evening.
With any luck, they feel the same and if they don't, at least you know you made it clear you were interested. There's nothing worse than leaving something unsaid.
9. Speak your truth, the good and the bad and the ugly. I went on a series of dates with this guy in San Francisco late last year and I really liked him. Like really liked him. I thought we had good chemistry, never ran out of things to talk about, and hey, he was pretty easy to look at. So when it ended rather unceremoniously as most fresh relationships do (by someone just not responding anymore), I was disappointed and a bit crestfallen. I didn't try reaching out after my last unanswered text and figured it wasn't meant to be. I left it alone.
Fast forward a few months when I randomly reconnected with said former date and he informed me he actually did like me but was bummed I didn't seem to feel the same way. Being confused, I told him I thought it was the other way around -- I was convinced he wasn't all that into me. And just like that, our games and "acting cool" had gotten in the way of two people who maybe liked each other, from actually liking each other.
Moral of the story? Don't beat around the bush. If you like someone (or don't), make it known (in whatever manner you're comfortable with, of course). And if they don't reciprocate your feelings, at least you can walk away knowing that you were honest with yourself and with them. You'll respect yourself, as will they and you won't have to sit around wondering, months later, "what if...?"
10. Don't forget about the old fashioned ways of meeting people! This one is my favorite bit of advice, because let's face it: you may have 20 apps on your phone, but it doesn't mean you should ignore some of the people sitting right under your nose. Ask around your group of friends or maybe your coworkers (if you feel comfortable) if they have any single friends that might be a good fit for you. Chances are, they know your personality and their cute friend's personality pretty well, that they'll match make you better than Tinder can. Heck, I even had an ex-Tinder date set me up with his friend, and despite it sounding kinda scammy, it worked out pretty decently. We even dated for a few months!
And then there's the super old fashioned way of meeting someone new: when you're out and about in the city! I know that sounds easier said than done, because who really goes up to total strangers anymore to give them a compliment, but I assure you, it happens, and maybe you need to be the one who initiates it!
Case in point: just this past summer, I was walking Elvis around the neighborhood when a guy I didn't know came up to me to tell me how much he liked my outfit. I was caught off guard but he made me blush, we continued to chat and, had I not been in a long distance relationship at the time, I would have given him my number. While it didn't work out for obvious reasons, before we parted ways, I told him how much I appreciated him taking the time to go out of his way to come talk to me. And having been single since then, I think it's something that should be paid forward. And I have on numerous occasions.
Because the bottom line is this: It's not a matter of he said/she said and blaming the opposite sex for being too complicated, or too aloof, or too non-committal. After all, we're all human beings looking for the same thing: companionship of some sort. So we should stop trying to outsmart, outwit, outmaneuver each other and ourselves and just be honest. Or as Aziz puts it:
"There's something uniquely valuable in everyone, and we'll be much happier and better off if we invest the time and the energy it takes to find it. But seriously, if the person doesn't clip their toenails or wear clean socks, look elsewhere. There are plenty of options."
4 minute read
Pajamas: Marigot, gifted; Dress: Houghton borrowed from Plan de Ville; Boots: Stuart Weitzman; Fur coat: Vintage, gift from my mother
Perhaps it's just me, but there's something about checking into a beautiful hotel that makes me feel like a little girl. In the best way possible, of course. Almost as if it's my excuse to dress up, jump on the bed (at a reasonable hour, naturally) and order room service pancakes (regardless of the hour). Then there's the fact that everyone insists on calling you Ms. Bick that always makes me giggle a bit to myself. Ms. Bick just reminds me of my mom, so I can't help but look over my shoulder to check for her when called it.
Yes, at the risk of this being the most first world sentence I've ever typed here on This Time Tomorrow, beautiful hotels are my weakness. And getting to stay at them? An absolute dream, one that I don't take for granted.
This past fashion week, I had the opportunity to check into my new favorite hotel here in the city. Langham Place, located in the heart of Midtown at 5th and 37th. Granted, this downtown girl doesn't make it uptown that often, let alone, midtown, but that's the beauty in staycations, right? It allows us to see a new part of our own backyard, restaurants and shops alike, and of course, skyline views from my 19th floor bedroom didn't disappoint either.
Amidst the craziness that is fashion week, it was so nice to come back to this (not so) little refuge high above the city, each night. Langham Place boasts some of the largest rooms in the city, and upon walking into mine, I was blown away. (Let's just say, several of my West Village studios could have fit in there.) After a day of trekking around the city, bundled up in layers and not so functional shoes, I rested easy knowing that a nice long bath soak, a fuzzy robe and a bottle of wine were waiting for me. Oh, and putting a little Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald on was the cherry on top each evening.
As far as hotel amenities go, I loved that I didn't have to look far for great food (another first world priority, I know). Most evenings I ducked into their downstairs lobby bar and lounge, Measure, for a hearty bite and night cap and on one certain special Valentine's Day evening, I might have popped upstairs to their Michelin-star rated restaurant, Ai Fiori, for a delicious six-course meal for two.
Huge thanks again to the folks at Langham Place for hosting me. You certainly made this fashion week attendee feel right at home in Midtown and I hope to join you again soon!
This post was in collaboration with Langham Place. As always, all opinions and styling are my own. Thank you for supporting all This Time Tomorrow collaborations!
2 minute read
Coat: MM. LaFleur; Dress: Likely; Boots: Stuart Weitzman; Bag: Chanel; Hat: Eugenia Kim; Sunglasses: Westward Leaning; Lips: Marc Jacobs "Amazing"; Bracelets: Tiffany's charm bracelet / Miansai
What can I say? As much as I love a midi length dress, I can always get behind showing a little thigh from time to time. Balance it out with a great pair of boots, a longer jacket and a quirky hat, well, to be honest, your friends might still sing out Pretty Woman to you while you're walking down the street, but hey, personally, I'll take any Julia Roberts comparisons I can get.
3 minute read
Fur coat: Vintage (my mom gave it to me); Sweater: Lou & Grey; Jeans: Levis; Boots: Stuart Weitzman; Beanie: Jennifer Behr; Bag: Proenza Schouler; Sunglasses: Celine; Gloves: Hestra (gift)
When I was much younger, I remember, every few months, my parents would go out for a nice dinner and possibly a theater date. My sister and I, with toys in tow, would be dropped off at our grandparents' house for a few hours. I remember loving these visits, because not only did it mean we could sneak a few extra cookies after dinner (at the approving wink of my grandpa) and stay up a bit later than normal (again, thanks grandpa!), but because I got to see my mom in this beautiful fur coat. There was something so elegant about it to me, almost queen-like, and I had to resist the urge to steal it from her closet on numerous occasions.
Fast forward a few (OK, a lot of years), and amidst packing up my life in San Francisco to head east to New York, my mom surprised me with this coat of hers. I was speechless. Not only is it still stunning in my eyes, but it reminded me of a little girl in awe of something seemingly out of reach. It goes without saying, it's the softest thing I own in my closet and on a few frigid days here in NYC during NYFW, it's proven it's functionality, too.
Whenever I can, I will always opt for faux. I can't speak to how the animals were treated in the making of this coat and I can't say that it's been passed down many generations. But I can say, I would like to start that tradition. I'd like to be able to someday pass this coat on to someone who appreciates it just as much as my mom did and as much as I will. I know that doesn't justify much, but with any luck, it won't have been in vain.
Shop my favorite faux fur coats right this way...
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