This past weekend was my last beach trip of the season, and I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. Ironically enough, Lana Del Rey’s “Summertime Sadness” is playing on my Pandora station as I type this post, making me long for days spent in bathing suits even more so than usual. My mom and I planned a mother/daughter trip, taking advantage of the quieter atmosphere as Ocean City gradually becomes a ghost town. Since Bike Week was in full force, we only ventured below 100th Street once for burgers and beer at Longboard Café. Dark clouds and rain showers kept us off the beach on Saturday, but I welcomed the excuse to start drinking well before happy hour while catching up on episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Beso Del Sol sent me a box of their natural red wine sangria at the beginning of the summer, and it quickly was added to my rotation of 5’oclock cocktails. Except for the time that I had a glass before going for a run (I’m sure my stride was crooked, providing an inordinate amount of entertainment for those driving along Coastal Highway), I’ve loved every sip. It’s definitely on the sweeter side, yet refreshing when chilled and paired with fresh fruit. Each box contains four bottles of wine and lasts up to four months, so there was plenty to share and savor all summer long.
Disclaimer: Beso Del Sol provided a sample for review. All opinions stated are my own.
For the first time in years, I decided to skip New York Fashion Week because honestly, last season was kind of lame. The focus has shifted from fashion to fashun, with too heavy of an emphasis on the front-row nobodies rather than the actual designs coming down the runway. You’ll drown in a sea of rockstud-wearing, Céline-carrying clones before you’ll make it inside the tents anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely fell prey to Valentino’s shoe of the moment, but I can also recognize when it’s time to put a pair of heels in their dust bag. Similarly, Fashion Week is kind of over (at least until it returns to the exclusive event it once was for buyers and editors).
The one thing that got me to the city though? The opportunity to catch up with friends from all over the country. RewardStyle was hosting its annual party at The Empire Hotel Rooftop, so I made a last minute decision to drive to New York with my sister on Saturday. With temperatures in the 90s, high humidity, and the threat of thunderstorms, we relied on Uber to get us around town and green juice to keep us hydrated. While many seemed to be jumping ahead to fall trends, I kept my look current and wore a matching top and skirt (now currently 50% off). And just to be clear, the girls donning leather jackets were batshit crazy. If you put 400 bloggers in the same space, you’ll get a myriad of eerily identical Instagram posts, photographer boyfriends who look miserable, and plenty of noteworthy content for an “Overheard at Fashion Week” Buzzfeed article. My few hours in the city were just enough to confirm that it’s sometimes better to watch from the sidelines.
||top, skirt, heels, statement necklace, “K” necklace, watch||
In an ideal world, birthdays are celebrated with a Pinterest-worthy ombré cake, a card crafted by Hallmark, and a pony wearing a party hat. In an actual world, it’s more like spending three hours in the car with a bundle of balloons impairing your vision, eating saltines because that’s the only thing that you can stomach, and painting a homemade sign on poster board. After getting off work on Thursday, I headed to Ocean City to meet Jen for the weekend. Since she was technically turning 27 at midnight, we decided “one drink” seemed necessary at a new spot, Barn 34. Considering that the dance floor was empty and it was a locals’ bar filled with surfers, we had low expectations. Fast forward to several rounds of questionable shots, a ride home from the bartender, and a killer hangover, and we had one of the best nights of the entire summer. Needless to say, I couldn’t drag myself out of bed early enough to surprise my sister with breakfast the following morning.
By the time friends joined us on Friday night, we were ready for round two, only this time we went to Macky’s and didn’t have to track down our car the next morning. We made sure to recover on Saturday and Sunday with bagels and a few hours in the sun, making for a relaxing weekend with good company. Sometimes the need for perfection impedes my ability to see the big picture—a smashed cake tastes as good as one that is intact, and you can have fun wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and denim cutoffs. I do still owe Jen Funfetti pancakes, though…