Forgive my absence yesterday. I have acquired the death cold that seems to be circling through members of my household. I thought I had dodged the germs, but Friday as I was tucking at my Barre class I was feeling a little woozy. (More on Barre to come...) We had plans to visit my parents up in beautiful nature-y Garden Valley Idaho, so we optimistically left as planned. But sadly, by Saturday night I was delirious. I spent the entire weekend pounding alka seltzer and drinking Theives essential oil tea in a scalding bathtub, while reading the truly awful book by Gillian Flynn Sharp Objects. (I really dont recommend reading ANY of her books while you are sick - because take my word for it, you WILL dream about something really and truly weird.) Anyway, there you have it. My exciting vacation weekend in a nutshell.
I had hopes and dreams of capturing some gorgeous shots of me perfectly styled in a flannel shirt with an effortless intricate braid of hair cascading over a shoulder - while petting a wild deer and her newborn fawn in a meadow of tall fall foliage....but ill spare you of the reality of me pale and sickly in a ratty pair of flannel pajamas that perfectly complemented my ratty unwashed hair.
Im hopped up on cold medicine and heading to Nordstrom Rack so Im sure I will have some good posts for you this week! Stay tuned....
I met Courtney way back in the 2nd grade. Dont ask me what year that was - I have no idea. All I know is that this was the era of spandex as pants, neon as the new black, and bangs sprayed into an unmovable wave cresting over our foreheads. We went to the same church, and we both prayed to the fashion gods of hammer pants and jordache jeans. It was friendship at first sight.
Throughout the years Courtney was a constant fashionable presence in my life. In junior high she was the first girl I ever knew to sport penny loafers (complete with real pennies tucked inside), While I wore my hair boyishly short and permed (not a typo), Courtney is credited with being the first among our friends to effortlessly twist her hair up with a “hair claw”. She knew what Old Navy was, before Boise had ever heard of it. We swam alongside each other in our ginormously oversized Banana Republic t-shirts while navigating the awkwardness of being a 90s teen.
In high school our fashion adventures were topped only by our mutual love for Leonardo Dicaprio. We scoured magazines for fashion ads and taped them from floor to ceiling in my bedroom. Long before Mean Girls made their burn book, we had our own secret notebook that was passed between our closest friends in between class periods. Senior year I lived in a cheerleading uniform while Courtney traded her various sports jerseys for a Rotary Jacket. She left to a study abroad in Japan while I fantasized about winning an Oscar and moved to LA 6 months shy of graduation.
In LA, Courtney came for a visit and we risked our lives to venture down into the crack district to find the fashion vans that sold clothes wholesale in a covert alleyway. I remember buying black capri pants - with leopard fur cuffs on the bottom complete with matching tank top. Courtney was right by my side congratulating me on such an awesome find.
Four years later we met up in Paris and shopped for a week straight fueling up on baguettes and as many Nutella crepes as we could stomach. We were living out our dreams in our white sneakers and backpacks. I discovered how much I loved Zara on this trip, and to this day still wear a skirt I bought there to church 3 out of 4 Sundays a month. There is nobody on earth that I would have wanted to experience France with besides Courtney. She “got me” in a way that meant I had zero explaining to do. Id say: Im changing my name to Kennedy. And she would say: Yes, that fits you just right.
Fast forward to present day and what you have here are two moms, with a fashion past that stretches farther than spanx - who have never really outgrown those childhood dreams of reaching their pinnacle of style. It was no surprise to me in 2007 when Courtney called me up and shared her brilliant plan to start her own business. Cents Of Style . It was about as shocking as the demise of gaucho pants. Which is to say, everyone saw it coming. And I for one am grateful to have so many accessories at my disposal - handpicked by a trusted friend.
So without further ado - I present myself to the world of fashion blogs: Consumer whore, fashion addict, and former “baby in a corner.” Ive repented of my ways and put aside my Sally Jesse Raphael glasses, my bowl cut of 1996, and most importantly my old nose… in favor of true religion jeans, statement necklaces, and any shirt I can find that doesn’t make me look 6 months pregnant.
Join me, wont you?