Back in 2008, I somehow wrote a poem about a mountain that won me a trip to Winter Park, CO -- all paid for by Burton and Foam Magazine. There, in the most ideal setting ever, I learned how to snowboard. I also fell in love with Colorado, powdery snow, and the cottage-y feeling of a ski lodge. I didn't even care that the altitude took away my appetite, made it nearly impossible to sleep, and pretty difficult to breathe. But that's besides the point. My point is that when I discovered these home wares by New Rustics, based in -- where else? -- Colorado, my love for Winter Park was rekindled, and I hope someday soon I'll get to go back and relive my Shaun White-wannabe dreams. In the meantime, why not have a rustic, vintage ski lodge-inspired room?
Lucky had a sale this week, so of course, I blacked out, went to the website, and began to fill my shopping cart with everything I've been eyeing. I wanted to be a bohemian gypsy queen. When I came to, my shopping cart totaled $317.98. Even with the 20% off everything sale. I quickly x-ed out of the window, and marveled at how close I had been to spending $300 on things I didn't even know I wanted. I took pride in my willpower and went back to work. But those boots are still haunting me.
This is my filing cabinet at work. It's covered in Instagrammed photos. Finally, my affinity for filtered photos can spread beyond social media and my phone to real life. I can tout my fake skills for photography on my computer case, my fridge, my coffee table ... the possibilities are endless. And yes, I'm saying this all in a snarky voice, however, I am seriously excited about these Instagram-inspired startups, such as Stickygram, Casetagram, and Artifact Uprising.
Usually, I am not a picture-taker. I'm always too embarrassed to whip out the camera or it just doesn't cross my mind to pause and force people to pose. But since the advent of Instagram, I haven't been shy about telling everyone, "stop moving and shut up -- I need to Instagram this!" So, now that my undying need to prove myself as a funloving social butterfly who goes on awe-inspiring adventures has forced me to capture even the most mundane moments, I actually have proof of my most precious memories. Of course, I have to turn them into something tangible. At least so even those who don't follow me in the social sphere can still see that I am, in fact, a funloving social butterfly who goes on awe-inspiring adventures.
You ain't artsier than me...
cuz you speak real soft and drink chai tea...
-Artsy by The Grouch
If you were to take a look at my resume, you would see that I'm an art school dropout. Disillusioned by the art world and its denizens, I quickly ran for the hills after one year at the Maryland Institute College of Art. But I just couldn't get away. Like the cloud of dust surrounding Pig Pen, the stench of a year at art school continued to follow me. In fact, this "artsiness" was the main selling point when my best friend set me up with my current boyfriend.
He's a painter. One of his paintings actually won a contest, she told me. And I can only imagine what she told him about me: She went to art school. She's really artsy. Or something like that.
I know this to be true, because on our first date, he pulled out his iPod -- complete with a playlist for made especially for that evening -- and wanted me to listen to this song:
And then we joked about how not artsy we both are.
Artsy kids still hold a special place in my heart. I've known my fair share. I've had microbrews at hipster bars. I've eaten brunch at restaurants with paint-by-numbers hanging on the walls. I've ridden a bike drunk. I've worn plaid shirts with jeggings (still do, actually, almost daily). And with that, I bring you my favorite hipster-lite finds this week. (Step 1 to being artsy: pretend to care about fonts.)
So, I don't know if you heard, but Gwyneth Paltrow is selling clothes now. Like expensive clothes. Like really expensive clothes. Like really simple and basic expensive clothes. If you don't believe me, these sweaters are $500. Chew on that. I heard Madewell has pretty similar styles for $72. Just sayin'. Sorry, Gwynnie, I still appreciate you as an actress.