Little Havana, Miami
Isn’t just me that can’t get that song out of my head is it…? We have been back in our home town for almost a month now and have really enjoyed the little bit of winter we got left. That being said, seeing the snow melt while looking back at photos of our time in Miami is odly satisfying, as I can’t wait to be singing that Camila Cabello ear worm again soon in a more appropriate and less ironic climate.
There’s nothing quite like a Montreal summer. It’s like the city comes alive again, and it’s inhabitants never take a moment for granted, much like in G.O.T, they know winter is always coming, and for us it lasts 8 months out of the year. We might not get visits from White Walkers, but some of us just full out turn into the Night King by the time January comes around. It’s crazy how climate can take a toll on not only your physical state but your emotional wellbeing as well. As Canadians, we all know the cabin fever and pale skin blues that overwhelm us during the colder months, and I’ve always attributed it to the weather. Funnily enough, having skipped Winter this year to migrate to Miami actually had a similar effect. There’s nothing quite as depressing as spending so many hours indoors working on a screen while looking out at a beautiful sunny day you’re not taking advantage of.
That being said, why is the FOMO always so real no matter where you are. Here I am sitting in our Montreal home that I had been longing to return to for so long, and yet am dreaming of being back in the warm streets of Miami again…This introspective study on what it is a girl wants weather-wise is giving me all kind of Carrie Bradshaw feelings. “And I couldn’t help but ask myself, is the grass truly always greener on the other side…”or should I say the weather always sounds better wherever you’re not. What can I say…Half of my heart is in “little” Havana, ooh-na-na .
Urban Outfitters sunnies and dress, Zara hoop earrings, Louis-Vuitton rings and bag, and Vans “Authentic” sneakers.
I have a feeling today’s post is going to get a little cheesy. Paris, the city of love. What can I say that hasn’t possibly been said about you already. You are one of my favourite places to visit, as everytime I return you bring back millions of warm and fuzzy memories. From the first visits with my parents who showed me your nooks and crannies and the beauty hidden behind every arrondissement, to my first kiss in the Eiffel tower with the love of my life, you really are the most magical city in the world…told you I’d bring the cheese…
When we returned for this particular visit, it all came back to me again, especially as we visited your sites as a family the way we first had all those years ago. There is nothing like spending time with loved ones in a setting like this one, because those memories really do last forever.
During this time of year especially, I always find myself a little emotional listening to Christmas music and looking back at images captured of my favourite people in one of my favourite places. This is exactly what I did while looking over to edit these photos, and I gotta say the warm fuzzies definitely made an appearance, perhaps a little tear here and there too.
All this to say, social media is great incentive to capture your daily routine of pretty things with white backgrounds, but don’t forget to capture the moments that really matter and will help you relive the good old days after years pass. Trust me no flatlays or what you had for lunch 2 weeks ago will bring back the laughter and happiness of a moment spent together…ok, that photo of lunch might bring back a little joy but that’s besides the point… Happy holiday season everyone!
Saint-Laurent sunnies, Essentiel Antwerp matching separates, Christian Dior bag, and Vans Old Skools.
I used to go out a lot. Like most rebellious teenyboppers of the Paris Hilton/Lindsay Lohan era, my idea of a good time used to be standing on chair or table (settling for wtv was available at the time) while sweating profusely with my arms in the air, and my butt low to the ground dancing to David Guetta vs. The Egg’s “Love Don’t Let Me Go”. Am I showing my age? Since then the concept of going out has me tired just thinking about it. The getting dressed, putting my face on, ordering an uber, driving in the stinky uber, getting in the place, arguing to get a better table, sitting for a large portion of the evening on my phone waiting for a song I don’t hate to come on, also going to bed at four has lost it’s appeal…it just sounds exhausting. K, now I’m really showing my age. All that being said, you’re probably thinking then why the hell would you go to the EDM capital of the world Claude? The answer is…a mix of the nostalgia of the good old days, and it’s sunny there. If you know anything about me you’d know that when I put my mind up to something, I always give it 110% and Ibiza was no different. I was going to commit to Ibiza, and have the best time ever, even if it meant my old lady body would have to take the rest of our vacation to recover….and boy did it.
I don’t want to bore you with all the mind blowing details so here’s our vlog from my 26th birthday week on the island that never sleeps…CLICK ME
One thing is certain…
We had fun. The kind of fun you have at a music festival when you’re feeling free in a field, dancing to your favourite band, during that golden hour. I mean sure, did I order 2AM espressos at Pacha waiting for David Guetta to go on, yes, but I danced and stayed up until 6AM, so grandma felt pretty cool. Since we’ve been back everytime I hear a Kygo song I start planning my birthday for next year. Hoping I can take my friends to the island and dance to Stargazing together at Ushuaia. Not sure how feasible that’s going to be but, hey a girl can always dream. All I know is Ibiza hasn’t seen the last of this old broad.
Saint-Laurent sunnies, For Love and Lemons dress, Loewe panda bag, and Vans Old Skools.
I often say it would be impossible for me to define my style. I like what I like, and never want to overanalyse the deep rooted reasons and references why, find a common denominator, and finally be able to pinpoint what it is in a garment that makes my heart tick. All this to give myself a fun label like boho, street, or minimalist. Nah not my steez. I prefer to belong within all the labels and therefore, none of the labels…you know what I mean? Woooo this got deep and complicated real fast. Eclectic has always been a word I’m comfortable with, when asked about my personal style, because it’s the ultimate non-answer. You’re asking me what kind of clothes I like to wear and I respond with a word that basically means all the clothes, but somehow still answer the question, in an educated, well spoken sort of manner. Tadaaa the loop holes of the english language everyone.
How did I get on this tangent? Right…what I was trying to get to is that if I had to describe my personal style in this very moment eclectic wouldn’t be the word I would use, I would simply say pink. I gots the pink fever, can’t stop won’t stop. Every time a dusty rose, to baby pink anything finds its way in my line of sight it becomes instant attraction. Must make it mine. I’ve become so dependant on my bebe pink that I’m scared my styling game has been a little lazy. Caveman mentality has set in and in my mind pink = good. Not sure what to wear? Just sprinkle a little pink on there and you’re ready to go! All this to say this #OOTD is a perfect example of how sick my little obsession has become…just put down the pastels Claude…just put them downnnnn.
Saint-Laurent sunnies, Silence + Noise dress, vintage Chanel blazer, Dior Saddle Bag, and Vans Old Skools.