August Insta(nt)gra(tification)m.

Hey, friends. Feast your eyes on August’s Instagram delights…

1. Husband and feathered friend.
2. Apparently you can exit reality right outside the Davis Square Au Bon Pain.
3. Getting some quality time with Lucy, our burlesque troupe’s first baby.
4. My classy husband’s classy shirt. (Confession: it was my idea.)
5. My first visit to Haberdash Vintage at SoWa Open Market (I got a dress – will play show and tell soon).
6. Various goods at the SoWa Vintage Market.
7. My sister and her new pup, Duncan.  I swear he’s real and not a Muppet.
8. Reclining at my hair appointment, complimentary peach sangria in hand.
9. One of the props for the routine I’m working on.
10. Heaven?
11. Presley, our dog-host during a weekend trip to NYC.
12. Doubtful.  Glitter is not that easily stopped.
13. NEW YORK BAGELS, YO.
14. Our trivia team name.
15. Deceptively gorgeous sky in Medford.
16. Sad Mr. Washington on the side of the Clover food truck in Dewey Square.

Selling Things/What I Wore/I Am Proud of My Size.

I am currently blogging instead of finishing my project for the day: gathering stuff to sell at the Davis Flea‘s Yard-less Yard Sale tomorrow.  I’ve always had a bit of a hoarder streak; even now I’m pretty sure my American Girl Doll (Felicity, if you were wondering) is tucked away somewhere at my parents’ house, waiting for the day I decide I need her again.*

stuff.

My current pile.

So at the moment I really need to get rid of some clothes, which I’m especially bad at doing, in part because of the significance of getting rid of clothes that are now too small for me.  Like pretty much every female I know, I’ve had a long and bumpy body image journey (I talked about that a bit here, too).

There was a time in college when I decided I’d count calories; I’d started it actually to prove to my then-boyfriend that it wouldn’t work.  I got rather Spartan about it – I think at one point I was eating about 900 calories a day.  As you’d expect, I quickly dropped a bunch of weight, and of course was delighted.  A few people even voiced concern over my rapid weight loss, which I admit actually made me happy, too.  It was never exactly unhealthy, but it was definitely not sustainable.  I was a vegetarian at the time and rarely drank, which also helped.

So now, roughly nine years later, with meat and alcohol back in my diet, I am definitely not the tiny size four I was then.  For a while now I’ve been saving old clothes for “when I lose weight again,” but I’ve decided to stop doing that.  The fact of the matter is, I’m thirty now, and particularly if Mission: Conception 2k12 succeeds, my body is not going to be the way it was when I was in college.  And the thing is, I’ve realized I’m just as comfortable – if not more – in it as I was then.  My body is pretty freaking awesome and I am proud to inhabit it.

I’ve been following Rachele‘s blog for a while, and am particularly excited about her “I Am Proud of My Size” project.  Here’s my contribution:

horizontal stripes?!

ear

(dress – thrifted / belt – H&M / earrings – handmade c/o Montpelier Mud / headband – I don’t remember anymore! / shoes [not quite pictured**] – Minnetonka)

I wore this for some pre-Independence Day karaoke last week.  It was super warm and I really wasn’t feeling like wearing clothes at all, so this was my compromise.  I had put on the dress but wasn’t loving it and was about to change until the husband stopped me and convinced me to wear it.  I wasn’t feeling particularly thrilled about the length and horizontal-stripeyness of it, but his enthusiasm swayed me, and in the long run, I was glad I wore it.  So let’s hear it for husbands, breaking fashion rules, and feeling good in my skin.

* I mean, she’d better be – Mom, I’m looking at you.

** Hubby is still adjusting to his new role as de facto fashion blog photographer.

Insta(nt)gra(tification)m 3

In this edition of Insta(nt)gra(tification)m, I give you a craft beer festival, a thunderstorm, a tattoo appointment, two burlesque shows and other various things that I (and my phone) have seen lately.

Husband.

Waiting to get in to the American Craft Beer Fest.

High Horse Brewery from Amherst.

Late-night Lucy.

Slide found on the ground outside the Davis Square Flea Market.

Our friend likes good beer.

Portrait of the artist as a housewife.

One of the few gummy bears I found placed around our neighborhood.

Disconcerting bar decor.

Storm over Boston Harbor, as seen from my office.

Davis Square breakfast companions.

Tools of the trade.

Saturday night dinner for four.

Paul and the thrill of the game.

A little Sunday night burlesque.

“I am fully aware that the camel toe in this outfit is fucking epic.” – Liz Fang, our troupe’s emcee.

More Insta(nt)gra(tification)m

I give you the last 2.5 weeks, as seen through my wonky Virgin Mobile Android:

Prop-makin’ for a new routine.

Backyard fire at my friend Courtney’s.

Idyllic in Somerville.

Allix Mortis changing in the car, pre-show.

Undoubtedly the most photographed sign in Ralph’s Diner in Worcester.

Tijuana Sweetheart, with whom we had the pleasure of sharing a stage.

Day-after-show hair: burlesque is nothing if not glamorous.

Lunch on the patio at my office.

State Street orange line stop.

Hotel Marlowe and a little of my husband.

My dad and Aunt Susan, before my sister’s wedding.

My own wedding shots.

Porch wine, candlelight and the White Album.

A friend we made at Kimball Farm.

Maybe not the best mini-golf shoes.

Kimball Farm and a little more of my husband.

Arcade.

Feeling self-congratulatorily bohemian (and cleavagey), sipping wine and writing out on our porch.

Our friends Hallelujah the Hills’ CD release party.

Beard here.

So did I!

Hazy Memorial Day bathroom self-portrait.

Grass-sittin’.

Bike-walkin’.

Sorry for the overload.  What can I say?  Life’s been aesthetically pleasing these days.

Emily Thinks About Weddings and Other Big Life Things.

NOTE: I promise, dear blog, that I will not let the fact that Instagram is now (FINALLY) available for Android come between us.

Speaking of which, let’s talk photos (and some other things).

In case you didn’t know, my parents are professional photographers,* and have been photographing weddings for pretty much my entire life.  What this meant was that my sister and I were never lacking for wedding photos to ogle.  I certainly went through various wedding-fantasizing stages, but when it came time for me to do it for real, we ended up with something low-key, low-stress, and very much our own.  (Our centerpieces were board games; we began the ceremony with high-fives, and I dyed a streak of my hair to be my “something blue.” )

Us, right after making it official.

Also, our friends and family were a huge part of the wedding.  Our cupcakes were made by a baking-savvy friend; my mom sewed our chuppah (which ended up being more of a backdrop due to the wind!); my dad wrote and recorded the song he and I danced to.  We had a close friend perform our ceremony, thanks to Massachusetts’ one-day marriage designation.  Not to brag, but basically, we have awesome friends who helped make it an awesome day.  And this is kind of how I see marriage in general.  It doesn’t make sense for us (and, I’d argue, a lot of people) to retreat into seclusion and close ourselves off to the rest of the world now that we’re married.  It’s not that we’re not a team–we are–but I see it more as a smaller unit,** encircled by bigger ones.  Maybe it’s the crunchy, vaguely Commie hippie in me speaking, but I just don’t think we’re meant to live cut off from each other.  It takes a village, et cetera.  Our family and friends aren’t any less important to us now that we’re married.

See? Encircled.

So now, my younger sister is planning her wedding.***  In less than three weeks, almost exactly three years after I got married, she’ll be creating a new little circle all her own, with her and Brandon (or, as I’ve come to call him, FUTUREBROTHER) as its nucleus.  Around that little circle will be bigger ones, with her family, both biological and the one they’ve created from friends.  I got to meet some of them this weekend at my sister’s bachelorette party, and I can now say with conviction that these circles are made up of some genuinely wonderful friends.

Caution – wild girls.

Or maybe it’s not quite a circle.  Maybe it’s a web, or one big crazy connect-the-dots, with lines drawn here and there, from me to my sister to my husband to my mom to you and back.  The more tangled, the better – because that’s what makes it strong.  We all need each other.

So what am I getting at here?  Let’s see.  Marriage is big.  And it’s frustrating, and wonderful, and maddening, and joyful, and three years into it I can hardly claim to know a darn thing about it.  But I do know this: having a network of people is important.  It’s like a big nest, made up scraps of this and that, where a fledgling family of two can be safe and warm and supported.

Bride and maid of honor, overwhelmed.

And I love knowing that my sister and I are now pieces in each other’s brand-new nests.

*And damn good ones, at that.

**May I never grow out of giggling at the word “unit.”

***And she’s blogging about her nearlywed status, too!

Photo-A-Day 14/Happy Valentimes!

day fourteen: heart

That’s right, that ❤ counts as a heart.  This is from the note that came with the flowers sent to me at work today by my sweet husband.  We don’t usually do anything particularly extravagant for V-Day, but I guess I had mentioned more than once that I’d never had flowers sent to me, so he must’ve gotten the hints I were (somewhat) subconsciously dropping.  And I’ll admit it: it’s kind of freaking awesome to have a stranger deliver you flowers at your place of employment.  They came early enough in the day that I got plenty of smug*, sitting-next-to-flowers time.

So now I just have to wrap up my workday so I can go meet that sweet man of mine for some Valentine’s Day sushi.  We’re going to check out Thelonious Monkfish, which I am super excited** about.  Also, I look really cute*** today, if I do say so myself, which always feels like an accomplishment the day after a burlesque show when I’m running on fumes.****

So here’s to lurve.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

 

* That’s right, I’ll admit to feeling smug.

** Dude, they have something called Gaga’s Monster Roll!

*** I’d have an artistic pictorial of my outfit for you if I was a proper blogger, but since I’m still getting my bloglegs, you’ll just have to make do with this awesome bathroom mirror shot (feel free to Photoshop a Pop Tart in there if you’d like):

A successful Work-Appropriate Outfit I Wasn't Embarrassed To Be Seen In.

Top: Urban Outfitters circa 2007; cardigan: Target via my friend Lucy at our clothing swap; skirt: J.Crew courtesy of gift card from my mama-in-law.  Flat hair: shut up, I ran out of hairspray.  

**** Fumes = six hours of sleep and all the glitter I couldn’t wash off this morning.

Photo-A-Day 6

day six: dinner

Instead of photographing my food itself (because a) it wasn’t very interesting, and b) aren’t you sick of looking at photos of food?  Check out my friend Alli’s article about this), I’ve captured for you here our dinner ritual.  Here, you have assumed the point of view of our TV (and makeshift tripod), which will soon be showing us 30 Rock reruns.  The husband has recently decided that for the next year, this is the only face he will be making in photographs.  I’m not sure why he decided to include the most recent issue of Bust. 

(edit: he says: “I was pretending that Maya Rudolph was eating the food.”)