The most basic outfit ever stepped up just a bit with this sweet floral shirt that I picked up last weekend during a city-wide vintage store crawl.
As much as I love living in L.A., it is nice to come home and make sure that my favorite thrifting haunts still exist-stuff here is just a million times cheaper and the eccentric, oft-pastel-haired saleswomen tend to it with hands so careful that their main job activity would be more accurately categorized as curation than anything else. Sorry for the lack of floral exposure, but there was a bitingly brutal wind today along with the constant Oregon quasi-rain, so I decided to try and spotlight my mom’s old Coach bag that I’ve been toting around town since the strap tragically broke off my rocco when the quantity of knick-knacks inside its studded coating had gotten daunting enough to render finding my wallet within a reasonable length of time all but impossible. For some reason vintage bags always seem better than the overly supple leather concoctions so daintily light-up in department store windows anyways, and this one is disgustingly perfect for all its scuff marks dating back to the 80s and for having the lingering scent of some indiscernable mix of perfumes that my mom wore back then stained into the leather. Awesome stuff.