How I Learned British Wedding Guest Rules the Hard Way (And You Don’t Have To)
The first British wedding I attended as an adult nearly ended my social life before it properly began. I was twenty-five, had just moved to Boston for work, and got…
The first British wedding I attended as an adult nearly ended my social life before it properly began. I was twenty-five, had just moved to Boston for work, and got…
The cream-colored invitation has been haunting my coffee table for weeks now, and honestly, I’m starting to think my friend Emma did this on purpose. Right there, in that fancy…
Last Tuesday I was standing in a Zara changing room staring at myself in a polyester dress that cost $29.99, wondering why I felt so gross about the whole situation.…
Last July I found myself standing in what was supposed to be a charming Cotswolds churchyard, watching the sky turn that particular shade of grey that means you’re about to…
That cream cardstock invitation sitting on my kitchen counter in Seattle might as well have been written in code. “Charlotte & James request the pleasure of your company…” followed by…
Last month I spent forty-five minutes trying to decide between three nearly identical black cover-ups for my long weekend in Miami. Three cover-ups. For four days. While my suitcase sat…
Last summer I stood in a muddy field in Derbyshire, watching my favorite sandals slowly disappear into what had been perfectly dry grass just two hours earlier, and I had…
I have this photo from a music festival in the Cotswolds last summer that perfectly sums up why I’m probably the wrong person to give festival fashion advice, yet here…
The invitation showed up in my mailbox on a random Tuesday in February – one of those thick cream cards with fancy lettering that immediately made me feel like I…
So I’m wandering around Whitstable last weekend – you know how it is, you say you’re going for the oysters but really you end up doing that thing where you…
You know that moment when you’re standing in a crowd of well-dressed people who are suddenly acting like they’re competing for the last bottle of water in an apocalypse? That…
Last weekend I found myself stress-eating a Wetzel’s Pretzel in the middle of Westfield while having what can only be described as a fashion crisis. Not about my own outfit…