brunch and shambles

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So, I brunched this past Sunday.

I was so excited because I hadn’t seen Liz (check her out here!) for a couple of weeks, was anticipating trying out this brunch spot in downtown Dallas (tell me the interior draws inspiration from 60s Italian cinema, and I am so sold), and hoped to knock out an outfit shoot or so.

Then my camera broke.

And I woke up late, so didn’t get to put on my full morning routine; the makeup that did make it on my face was done at stoplights on my way downtown. And Texas decided we couldn’t have a sunshine-filled beautiful day like the one we’d just had, au contraire, we had to have humidity like the sky itself was sweating. And my sister was borrowing the skirt I wanted to shoot in, so I threw on some pieces that I loved separately but weren’t exactly on brand as a whole look. And I forgot to bring cash for the valet, so it was a mad rush to find change from a hotel while my ticket was being called up.

We brunched anyways.

And it was great. The food was lovely, the coffees were marvelous, the lighting worked out alright, and Liz was gracious enough to step behind the lens of her own camera to get a few shots of me. And I kind of like the result.

You can see my skin isn’t perfect, nor is my bronzer. My jean-shorts are a little wrinkly, and (someone, somewhere, is going to appreciate the candidness) stretched because of my food baby. My legs aren’t as tan or as defined as they would’ve been if I’d have known I’d be in front of the camera and just slapped on some lotion, and my hair is on the frizzy end of the spectrum.

It’s okay, though.

Because, on an off-day, this is who I am —the shambles, the blemishes, the frizziness—and it’s worth pulling back the curtain every now and then.

This isn’t a post against putting on every makeup product you own, or wearing clothes that make you feel put together, or getting up on time. It’s just to say that some days we are that girl. And some days we are this one. Both girls deserve eggs alla puttanesca and a cappuccino.

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