Cream of the Crop

I knew Spain in July would be warm, but I may have slightly underestimated the humidity factor. I was sweatin’. I was sweatin’ a lot. So when one of our girls lined up a full day of tours/on foot explorations, for us, I parsed my pack for the most skin-baring (slash still daytime appropriate) separates I could find.

The end result? A white zip-front crop top and high-color, high-waisted, flared knit mini - both from BCBG. (And sparkly pink jellies for a pre-teen kick.)

What you can't see in this picture is the black eyeliner that had melted onto the middle of my eyelid. Primer can apparently only do so much in a Barcelona heatwave. 

(I also popped down to the corner hair salon and had the most adorable older woman give me a wash/dry/flat-iron. My high school Spanish was pretty useless in this transaction, but she was all warmth and love. She’s owned the salon for over 40 years, and every customer was an elderly regular. At one point, they were clearly talking about me, and she put a motherly hand on my shoulder as if to say, we’re not laughing at you, we’re just sort of amused by you, but in the kindest way possible. I’ll take it. I’ll also take the 13 euro ring-up.) 


Coachella Prep

This year marked my seventh trek to the moisture-sucking/soul-enhancing scene of Coachella – or, as I like to call it, my Oasis of Happiness. As such, my packing slash preparedness has much improved. This time around, I wasn’t cold, my phone didn’t die, my skin stayed pale, each outfit was propitiously photographed by strangers, and I never ran out of vodka. Great success!

Here’s what I delicately folded into my carryon that allowed me to soldier through three days of unabated blasphemy and bliss.  


The day before I was due to leave, my stomach ached. My head was beginning to ping with pain. My serotonin levels were plummeting. Why? I had nothing fun/weird enough to wear this year. Somehow, almost all of my favorite vintage spots had come up short. Luckily, there was one left on my list - I trekked over the hill to Playclothes, and scored three unique little gems:

DAY 1: 

Two-piece vintage playsuit. Yes, one of those pieces is a pair of bloomers. I cinched up my waist with a vintage, rhinestone-buckled belt that I swiped from another dress. In preparation for the post-sun shivers, I shoved this oversized lighthouse jacket in my satchel. 

DAY 2:

Vintage terry-cloth cover-up dress with a bathing suit underneath. Fun fact of the day: This particular get-up earned me the nickname, Teacup. More fun for some than for others. What is fun for everyone is that the flowerpot you see - that’s a pocket. Things got handsy.

Bathing suit top: Norma Kamali/Bottoms: Victoria’s Secret

Post-party, pre-field, pre-Neon Carnival, I popped into a portapottie to don this sheer Kate Young for Target onesie and vintage velvet dress combo. It was a smart move. The dust storm had nothin’ on the fiercely tough fabric. Capped it off Wonder Woman style with remarkably heavy vintage bangles.

DAY 3:

High-waisted vintage mini with a crazy clown print, a metallic/red Planet Lingerie star-printed bra, To Love Kuvaa cropped crochet tank, and chunky-soled Topshop sandals. (I wore blue sparkly socks with those sandals, for blister protection, just in case anyone was curious. Lord knows, I would be.)

I folded my red leather rain jacket into my bag for nighttime adventures. I was happy I did.


Vintage velvet button-downs & L’eggs leggings for late-night lounging and possibly public snooze-fests
Kareena’s Cover-Up
Extra Bathing Suits
Balenciaga Sunglasses
Portable Charger (This was a lifesaver this year. Highly recommended.)
Books, 3 Magazines (3 pages and 4 articles of which were read)
1 Wide-Brimmed Hat, never worn
5 Chapsticks, all of which were lost in the first two days
Hand Sanitizer

…and scene.

Yes, his shorts are adorable. Yes, they are from Zara. My vintage pieces hail from PlayclothesVintage TreasuresBuffalo ExchangeAlpha Thrift, & East Village Thrift.