I have a guilty conscience
If you currently follow me on instagram you already know that Peter and I jetted off on a little Valentine’s Day escapade earlier this week to a place we had dreamed of visiting for years. New Orleans, had been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember. Growing up my folks used to visit NOLA once a year in February for what they claimed was a “business convention”, and always returned a little more tired then when they departed, but with great stories of late nights on Bourbon street in tow. That mixed with a little Princess and the Frog / American Horror Story: Coven fandom, and our love of traveling with eating as a main objective, I’m honestly surprised it took us this long to visit.
I had always dreamed of making my way through the French Quarter, on the search for king cake, begging strangers on balconies for beads, listening to horn musicians up and down the street, and let’s not forget to mention the parades. The dream had always been Mardis Gras. I wanted to grab as much of that festive spirit, creole food, jazz music, and joie de vivre culture I had heard of my entire life and get the most out of it. So when that google page loaded and announced that Fat Tuesday fell only one day prior to Valentine’s Day, all the incentive I needed was right there in front of me. I used up some travel points and a few days later there we were. Making our way through the French Quarter, on the search for king cake, begging strangers on balconies for beads, listening to horn musicians up and down Bourbon street, on our way back from the parade. We truly made the most of our first experience in NOLA, and it was everything I had hoped it would be and more. It’s rare that a place you’ve dreamt of visiting almost your entire life turns out better than the movies that made it your dream in the first place…but New Orleans was that good.
That being said, through all the festivities, food hunts, and tourist must do’s, my favourite part of our trip will always be that even though we took our work with us, as we always do, we still made time for each other. New Orleans will always be special to me now, not only because of the unbelievable food, music, and the good times we let roll while visiting, but because fo that romantic week we spent there, the way my parents had all those years ago…
H&M hat, Ray Ban sunnies, Urban Outfitters dress, Topshop Jamie jeans, Chloé “Nile” bag, and Fenty X Puma cleated creepers.
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You could say I’ve kinda hit a wall as of late. Writing weekly entries on this blog used to be my escape, my favourite method of self expression, my way of speaking out on issues, or confessing all the big and little things in life that were and weren’t going my way. Now it feels as though I only speak of the weather. I use to share…I used to swear! This text used to feel more like my voice then when I actually spoke aloud. I’m not sure if I lost that because these posts became less frequent, and images started speaking my 1000 words on instagram, or if maybe I lost a bit of myself along the way, while trying to appeal to everybody from clients to my audience. All I know is I’d like to go back to those good old days. I’d like to talk to you guys like an old friend again. Admit all of my wrongs, my neurosis, my short comings, not just use these 200 words as an episode recap of what you missed last week on your favourite sitcom. Though I do want to bring back my Gilmore Girl-esque obscure references, from TV, film, and song that really brought together those who understood them. I want the words to flow out of me about everything and nothing the way they always seemed to before. Kind of the way they are now. I hope you guys enjoy this little renaissance, and don’t mind if I step back out of the box a little. Can’t wait to tell you how I’m feeling next week….but so far I feel fucking great.
FSTVL sunnies, Rag & Bone denim jacket, Reformation dress, Louis-Vuitton “Petite Boîte Chapeau”, and Prada platform wingtips.
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