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This Square Peg.

Happily Not Fitting In Since 1978.

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Fabu Fashion: Lone Star Autumn

Dear reader, the high today in Texas is 47 degrees. Forty-seven degrees. Of course, I can’t get too excited because a few weeks ago, we had a similar high and by Saturday, it was 90 degrees. So there’s that. But when we do have bursts of autumnal weather here and there, I’m quite happy to break out the jackets and tights and turtlenecks and all that. Since we haven’t talked fashion in a while (honestly, we haven’t really talked in a while, you know? Writer/Blogger laziness. I have no viable excuses. I’ll do better. Maybe soon), here’s an update of what I’m wearing today at the office.

fabu2fabu3fabu1

Deets, if you’re so inclined:

-Faux leather pencil skirt: ordered from Amazon; for real, I’ve yet to have a bad experience ordering clothes from Amazon
-Turtleneck: your basic turtle; no clue where I purchased it from. Maybe JCPenney?
-Sweater wrap that gives me life: from Ross, of course. Where else?
Boots: Uh, Ross? For real, I’ve owned most of these pieces for so long–with the exception of the gray wrap–that I can’t recall where I got them from. Blame getting older.

Needless to say, when the weather turns colder, I lean towards the grays and the blacks, sometimes without even thinking about it. (Plus, it’s raining and drab and gray and I think my soul wanted to match the weather.) It’s a habit I’m trying to break. But hey: I threw on some maroon tights! That’s color, right? Although you can see them with the length of the skirt and the boots. But I wanted you to see them. So feast your eyes on this professional pose below:

fabu4

I can’t hear your applause, but thank you. Anyway, I grabbed those tights from JCPenney, I believe. The image may not show it, but they’re also patterned, which is also a favorite when it comes to tights.

On my hair: right? Where’s the fro, you’re wondering? It’s tucked under those fresh crochet braids. Loving this style. I tend to stick to curly crochets when I go with that protective style, but thanks to Pinterest, I decided to try vixen crochet braids and use a kinky straight hair texture. And this hair, y’all. Soft, voluminous, very much giving me the Diana Ross look I’ve wanted since time began.

As far as makeup, the day also seemed to deserve a little smoky eye. Since I generally fail at natural smoky eye, I grabbed this great shadow stick from Sephora fabu5called–what else?–Easy Smoky Eye. Comes in matte and metallic (I chose matte) and different colors (I chose brown and blue); a few strokes on my eyelids and I look like a chanteuse about to purr into a microphone. Stormy weatherrr… 

Shadow sticks are new to me and for the record, I.love.them. Rather than spend more than a few minutes achieving a specific eye look, the sticks help me to easily achieve the look I want. Boom. My lippie, also a Sephora buy, is Smashbox Always On Matte Liquid Lipstick. Shade: Girl Gang. You need this lippie, by the way. It goes on cream and dries matte, which I adore into infinity. (I’ve never been into shiny lipstick, incidentally.) Anyway, the shade pulsates, y’all. May not translate in the photo, but the plum shade is amazing on these lips.

That’s all she wrote. Simple and fabu for me.

What are your fall fashion favorites so far? Share?

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It’s November. Yawn.

Welcome to November 1.

My feelings about November haven’t changed.

Le sigh.

Blahvember

Autumn Promises. (#3)

Dear Autumn,

I promise not to blame you for not being the traditional you in a state where it’s summer fall3year-round. It’s not your fault that heat lives in every tiny corner in this lone star state. (And I’ve been promised at least 70-degree days, even if the leaves won’t wholly turn, so I’ll take it.)

I promise to get back to creative writing, something I tend to do more of during your inspiring season. It’s been a blast with other forms of writing, but there are about 12 short story ideas that currently demand attention and they punch hard when they’re not acknowledged.

I promise to engage in Blogtober this year. Yes!

I promise to take time for self-care. With shorter days and cooler, darker nights on the horizon, running around town and burning the candle at both ends will have to take a backseat. (Perhaps eternally? Your Square Peg isn’t in college anymore and she keeps forgetting that.) More blankets, time on the couch, and chai, in that order.

I promise to finally go shopping and bring more color and creativity to my personal style. It’s been blah for me lately, clothes-wise and otherwise. Le sigh.

I promise to keep a standing date at the bookstore on Friday nights. Autumn has always been about books and reading, too, and I need to smell some pages and listen to the hushed hum of book-related conversations.

I promise not to side-eye all the rain you will undoubtedly bring. Part of the bargain, right?

I promise to continue to stay away from whatever a pumpkin spice latte aims to provide.

I promise to just breathe. I’ve been aching for deep, sustained breaths lately.

I promise not to get it twisted: seasonal beauty won’t take away the stresses of life…

…but it’ll give me chances to look up, appreciate, and engage. fall2

Here’s to the coming autumn and enjoying every bit of it.

What are you looking forward to this fall?

p.s.: More autumn promises are located here and here.

Blogvember #1: Sorry, Blogtober.

Oh, did you think you’d only receive one post from me today? Not so, dear reader. I’m officially announcing that today begins Blogvember: I’ll be blogging every single day this month. Woo hooooo…

If you remember, I participated in Blogtober both in 2014 and in 2015. But since October kinda got away from me as far daily blogging, we’ll try for this month.

Blogging daily during my favorite month would have been a treat. But life happens. And honestly, the absence of a traditional autumn happened. By now, you know that I left the East Coast for Texas. And though several locals here have assured me that it gets chilly around this time of year (as 84 balmy degrees currently makes itself home in the atmosphere), there still won’t be the crispness and beauty and orange that encompasses the electricity I feel when autumn comes. Without that personal, seasonal, visual excitement to accompany this year’s Blogtober, it fell by the wayside for me.

But we always say onwards and upwards, around here, don’t we? Burnished leaves and orange moons or no, here comes Project Blogvember: 30 days of posts from yours truly. Will you join me?

This Square Peg: Redux.

Happy first day of November, party people. Did that greeting seem unexcited and blah? Well, blah is the operative word. I posted my feelings about November back on November 1, 2015. Re-posted below for your reading pleasure. Enjoy the redux.

*******************************

Blahvember?

Ever since I fell in love with autumn (since 1986 when we stepped foot on American soil and I experienced my first fall, in case you were wondering), I’ve wondered about November. 

What is this month that pales in comparison to October, my favorite month? It doesn’t have the roaring engines of September, when fall begins. It certainly doesn’t have the romance/je ne sais quoi and ego-inflating that I associate with October (it is the month in which I was born, hence the mild inflation of my ego when I remind my mother that her life’s purpose was realized when her eldest child was born). And by December, I’ve forgotten all about fall and begin the dreading of winter. So, essentially, November is the stepping stone between wonder and dread. The head-scratching interruption. The red-headed stepchild of the fall season. 

All that said, I’m officially making an effort not to do November wrong like this anymore. And, hey, I’ve always had a place in my heart for gingers and forgotten stepchildren. So this November:

  1. I resolve not to long for October. Much.
  2. I resolve not to side-eye a month as if it were the pesky seat-dweller next to me on the train who is determined to squeeze me in until I stop breathing.
  3. I resolve to do fun things during Blahvember–I mean November, such as weekend trips to see the fall leaves (even though, let’s face it, November means they begin to lose their vibrant colors, but whatever), spending much-needed time with friends (not complaining about dulling leaves), and eating all kinds of pumpkin-related pastries because it’s still fall. Thanks, November! (Even though my belly doesn’t thank you, but whatever.)
  4. I resolve to remember that November (you’re welcome for that rhyme) actually holds dreaded December at bay for several days, so this is good. Kind of like a moat around my castle. Wait. Did medieval marauding bands really find watery ditches all that intimidating? Don’t answer that.

And so, dearest November, you will suffer from my irritated and/or apathetic regard no longer. I will change the parameters of our uninspiring, tedious relationship. If it’s the last thing I do. Unless something else comes up. Anyway, I wanted to leave you with an inspiring quote about November, but–there weren’t any.

Happy November…

Fabu Fashion Round-Up: Elevator Runways

Hi there. You know about my new job. Prior to starting last week, I did a bit of shopping for some new wears, being that a number of my things were mostly ill-fitting and above all, I wanted to start nice and fresh for this new environment. I hit up Sears (seriously, their business-y stuff is awesome) and my boyfriend Ross for some pants, blouses, a new blazer, etc. Good finds. So when I arrived at the office last week: lo and behold, dear reader, the elevator taking me to my floor was filled with mirrors. (Yes, there were a few stars in my eyes following that discovery.) No more bathroom selfies for us, honey. And so courtesy of said mirrors, shown below are my office fashion choices from last week. I missed Thursday for reasons these gray streaks in my fro won’t allow me to remember. 


Day 1, aka Blurry Monroe: I snapped a quick pic, which explains the blurriness. Anyway, I went with your basic pantsuit. But that blouse gave me life. Have I told you that I love (no, love) tie-neck blouses??? Here’s a close-up.


Was drawn to the long tie, the sea of colors, the simplicity. One of my Sears finds. More tie-necks will be had, that’s for sure. (That’s my new bathroom by the way. That pose, however, isn’t new.) 

Day 2, aka Thigh Goals: “thigh goals” was the comment a friend captioned this when I posted the outfit on IG. I blushed and laughed and silently thanked my mum and all those squats. Anywho, still basic, still simple: blouse, blazer, pants. However, you’ll notice the scarf and the plastic bag. Inside the bag was my newly purchased space heater. Combined with said scarf, I came to battle, determined to beat the North wind blowing through my workspace. 

Day 3, aka Autumn Surprise: the weather forecasted for that day was significantly cool for the Dallas area, very fall-like and autumn-y. So I gleefully pulled out my beloved turtleneck and sweater and wore them to the office. A few co-workers raised their eyebrows. No comment. 

Day 5, aka Casual Friyay: I was told almost 100 times to remember that jeans were fine for casual Friyays, and so I obeyed. My tried and true skinny jeans with an animal print blouse that you can’t see and that long sweater. The yellow scarf topped it off, along with ankle booties that you also can’t see.

That’s all she wore. Oh, my hair: as you can see, straight for two days–following a much-needed trim–and then blissfully back to twist-outs and updos by the end of the week. 

What fashions are you sporting lately? Is your office occupied by the same North wind as mine?

Les Poèmes.

Autumn: Brevity

I pull open the doors for you,
my intermittent love,
eager to greet you with the cool kisses of yet another season.
It does not bother me that you arrive once a year bearing your all-consuming brevity.
It does not trouble me that I compete with the other colors in your world.

When did hopeless beggars have the power of choice?

You are mine.
Whether orange moons or darkened afternoons–
whether burnished leaves or hearts exposed on long sleeves–
You are mine.
Cloak me with the fleeting warmth of your love and affection and
disregard what errant tears you may see from me,
for we have so little time.

The Ally

Softly, that fallen eyelash resting underneath
your lovely eye calls out for my touch.
It urges my fingers to gently brush it away as
I send it on a whirling journey to the ground,
a satisfying ending for this tiny friend that
sacrificed itself so that I could replace its
tenure on your skin.
Because I think the eyelash knew,
you see, the longing I had to rest my fingers
there, underneath your eye, my warm touch
communicating what my frightened heart
had been unable to say for so, so long.

Blahvember?

Ever since I fell in love with autumn (since 1986 when we stepped foot on American soil and I experienced my first fall, in case you were wondering), I’ve wondered about November. 

What is this month that pales in comparison to October, my favorite month? It doesn’t have the roaring engines of September, when fall begins. It certainly doesn’t have the romance/je ne sais quoi and ego-inflating that I associate with October (it is the month in which I was born, hence the mild inflation of my ego when I remind my mother that her life’s purpose was realized when her eldest child was born). And by December, I’ve forgotten all about fall and begin the dreading of winter. So, essentially, November is the stepping stone between wonder and dread. The head-scratching interruption. The red-headed stepchild of the fall season. 

All that said, I’m officially making an effort not to do November wrong like this anymore. And, hey, I’ve always had a place in my heart for gingers and forgotten stepchildren. So this November:

  1. I resolve not to long for October. Much.
  2. I resolve not to side-eye a month as if it were the pesky seat-dweller next to me on the train who is determined to squeeze me in until I stop breathing.
  3. I resolve to do fun things during Blahvember–I mean November, such as weekend trips to see the fall leaves (even though, let’s face it, November means they begin to lose their vibrant colors, but whatever), spending much-needed time with friends (not complaining about dulling leaves), and eating all kinds of pumpkin-related pastries because it’s still fall. Thanks, November! (Even though my belly doesn’t thank you, but whatever.)
  4. I resolve to remember that November (you’re welcome for that rhyme) actually holds dreaded December at bay for several days, so this is good. Kind of like a moat around my castle. Wait. Did medieval marauding bands really find watery ditches all that intimidating? Don’t answer that.

And so, dearest November, you will suffer from my irritated and/or apathetic regard no longer. I will change the parameters of our uninspiring, tedious relationship. If it’s the last thing I do. Unless something else comes up. Anyway, I wanted to leave you with an inspiring quote about November, but–there weren’t any.

Happy November…

Blogtober (Redux and Late) #31: Regrets or Nah?

Never mind that it’s November 1. I meant to post my final entry for Blogtober yesterday, but life. Let’s pretend it’s yesterday.

Thank you for supporting this year’s bloggery effort despite the 16-day wifi-related snafu that occurred in the middle. Thank you for everyone that liked a post, followed my little blog this month, left comments. Thank you for reading my travel-themed posts about a journey that I’m still thinking about and ruminating over. 

  
Because he’s right, you know. Bourdain captured exactly what I felt during my two weeks away. (And really, for every time I’ve boarded a plane toward a new experience, a new adventure.) I experienced moments this past trip that no camera captured. Moments when I was so stressed out that I wanted to shed tears. Moments that had me scratching my head and poised to scratch out a few pair of eyes. There were times when I wanted to find a ticket and just go back home. Times when my mind and soul ached for the warmth of my comfort zone. 

But you know what I’ll next say: all of it, the good, the bad, the weird, left those marks on my memory, my consciousness, and my body. And I’ll take them all. I’ll accept learning more about my myself. I’ll accept understanding that I have personal boundaries that not even I will cross. I’ll accept that when I travel again, some things will be done differently and some things will stay absolutely the same. Yeah, my heart was broken during this trip. But my heart also sang. So I regret nothing. Not a thing.

Here’s to the next adventure, the next Blogtober, and everything in between.

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