Here's a little known fact. I always wanted to be a hair stylist.

At the time, I thought there was no virtue in attending beauty school. The dumb girls went to cosmetology college and I was no dummy.

Seems to me, now, that a good stylist is really hard to come by. Through personal experience {and trial and error} there is a great need to be properly educated in this craft.

Guess the joke is on me.

Five Finger Tippy Tuva's (as my kitchen salon is dubbed} probably won't make the Aveda salon list but....I can still dream and try. (And collect images of pretty hair.)

via Glamour

This one makes me wish I was one of those dollies we had--the one where you pull her hair and it magically grows.

via Marth Stewart

The perfect shade of red and the perfect bang sweep.

Via The Sartorialist

She looks so cute-the very perfect hairdo. I've always envied dark curly Italian hair. So thick. So unlike my very fine straight locks.

Twiggy--I think she is absolutely beautiful.

And Paris, though I don't personally enjoy her has the cutest hair when it's short. I think I'm just mildly obsessed with SJP but I love her hair here. The whole ensemble is inspiration worthy.

Sense a trend here? Me too but I look terrible as a blond.

Window Shopping-Excursion 1

I caught Suze on public television during a Glee commercial last night. I heard her say, “Live below your means.” I just tallied expenses for tax purposes and man, the $13 here and the $15 there add up into thousands in a year. And if I want to get rid of this "big girl" job, I need to make a plan.

I bet Suze is not obsessed with good design. She for sure doesn’t buy crap just because it has great packaging. And she definitely does not have a stash of crafting supplies that could double as a scale model of Mount Saint Helen.

No, Ms. Orman is probably free from “cute shit” addiction.

This author, I’m afraid, needs to enroll herself into a 12 Step program----I can’t quite put my finger on just what it is, but I’ve come to understand that a bow on anything can drive me over the edge.

Thanks to Google Reader, I have saved the price of a yearly magazine subscription or 2. (or 3, or 6) but now I'm innundated with images of great shit every day, every hour.

What’s a girl to do? Especially a girl who loves expensive perfume, really good coffee, and can’t pass a Barnes & Noble without salivating.

Well, she can window shop. (And collect all the images into a wish list that perhaps her mister friend will peek at before her birthday on May 24th.)

Ms. Kidston, please stop.

Frederic, you, and that Barney friend of yours are indeed killing me.



Dreams of jersey knit tops with a boatneck and 3/4 length sleeves, designed by yours truly.

I know, it's just tape. Pretty tape. Japanese washi tape but when you want the trio in every color....

and the twine to go with it, it's a prime example of this sickness.

And yet another fragrance. I don't even know what this one smells like, the bottle had me hello.

Tom, Glitter and philanthrophy? Yeah, here's my credit card number.

Send me one of each. Size 8 please.

Anthro, I do not need one more reason to stay in bed longer than I should. Does the outdoor space come with it?

Wow, that was fun. Did it help? Maybe.