roman holiday


I talked a month or so ago about my emotions (spoiler, I have a lot) on Breakfast at Tiffany’s, so it seems fitting that today we go back to my first Audrey Hepburn movie: Roman Holiday.

I remember watching this movie as a young girl, and being absolutely baffled that someone wouldn’t want to be a princess. And then not understanding why she had to go back. And of course, being enchanted by gelato and street markets and plazas and Rome. I actually went in to get my haircut, and remember holding the VHS tape while the hairdresser draped a giant apron over me, my sneakers dangling far above the footrest. “All off,” I told her, “I want it all off”; I was disappointed when she didn’t get my reference.

It’s such a lovely movie, full of a wistful sort of charm. 

This look was very much inspired by the outfit that Ann wears on her adventures throughout Rome, and I couldn’t be happier about it. You know I love a long skirt, and this high-waisted one is such a dream. Pair it with a sleeveless turtleneck, because I am nothing if not a creature of habit, and some sandals, and a belt and voila—I’m ready for a vespa ride with Gregory Peck.


so taylor was my grade school friend, then my baylor friend, and now my post-grad friend, and it really is crazy that we’ve known each other that long! we’ve been through hundreds of art classes (i tried the math out, and it’s actually more than 500, which is unbelievable) (at which point, i wised up and stopped sitting next to the future graphic designer extraordinaire), filmed two embarrassing history projects (pretty sure we got A’s on both? sympathy may very well have played a factor), ran the baylor line in floyd casey (rip), discovered guerilla troupe, and so many more fun things together, so when she was out in my neck of the woods for a friend’s graduation, i had to steal her for the day to explore one of my favorite areas of dallas: lower greeneville. she fit right in with the hipster/eclectic vibes of the neighborhood, and we knew it was meant to be when the pretty storefront we stopped to take pictures of was actually a records store. as always, i asked her the same questions as i do everyone in this segment, and, as always, it’s so fun to see my friends express their style on paper as well as in the pictures we take!!


What are you most excited for about summer?
I am most excited for undeniable beach-going weather and surfing. Let’s be real though, is their really ever not a time to do that in San Diego? (the answer is generally no)
Least excited to leave behind in spring?
I will definitely miss all the wild flowers and the green-ness  we had this spring! San Diego has been the greenest it has been in years due to our large amount of rainfall!
Favorite dessert?
Without a doubt, ICECREAM. I prefer cookie dough or chocolate but I am open to pretty much any flavor.
Describe your style in 3 words.
Girly-tomboy, Socal (Southern California), Chrisy would say hipster but hipsters can’t say they are hipster soooo… eclectic?
Who are some of your fashion inspirations?
I would have to say for starters definitely Chrisy. (I wish I had every pair of her shorts) Then I would say Amanda Faye. She is a vlogger on youtube who recently became a mom and has a cool California indie style that I really dig. Is it weird that my 3rd one is a guy? Call me crazy but I love the simplicity/carefree feel of guy’s styles. Cody Simpson inspires mainly my style in accessories. I love his rings, his suede hat, pointy-toed oxfords and I would steal his jean jackets any day.
For each of the following, pick what you’d do if you could only wear one of these for the next year: (1) color (2) silhouette (3)type of shoe (4) pattern. 
1. Turquoise(it’s my favorite color)
2. A-line
3. pointy-toed oxfords (my Sam Edelman ones preferably)
4. plaid
If first impressions are last impressions, what would you hope people would think of you, from the way you dress?
I love this quote by Steve Woodward that says “style means confidence in what you choose to surround yourself with.” I hope the way I dress says everything about who I am and what I value. I would like people to think of me as a loving, joyful, passionate, confident and creative person who not afraid to take risks and truly cares for others.
Any other wisdom for the people? 🙂 
Never let the fear of imperfection keep you from producing work. Get your ideas out there because worrying too much about things not being perfect can hinder your creativity and productivity. You have dreams and aspirations right?! Stop talking about them and go after them. Take action. Even if that means working on weekends, late nights, lunch breaks, etc. A good idea is only as successful as it’s execution. There are going to be people out there who will doubt you will reach your goals; prove them wrong. Don’t worry too much about the journey because “worry is just a misuse of imagination”- Harris III

moon river musings


Breakfast at Tiffany’s is not my favorite Audrey Hepburn movie.

There’s a whole list of reasons why not:

  • the book off of which the movie is based is written with a clear contempt of women (thank you, Truman Capote)(one of my least favorite authors)(I have emotions about the whole thing).
  • George Peppard will always be Hannibal Smith from A-Team, so I have the hardest time taking him seriously in this role
  • Audrey Hepburn’s presence completely redeems the character of Holly Golightly (Marilyn Monroe was a lot of people’s, including Capote’s, pick for Holly…imagine how differently the film would’ve played out then. Also, knowing that she fit the author’s ideal of the role really shows his hand, doesn’t it), and while she does an amazing job, I think characters should be strong enough on their own, and shouldn’t need the supportive power of an actress to be empathetic.
  • Most people don’t see past the diamonds and cigarette holders to a truly depressing story of New York and self-made women.
  • Audrey had a million and ten other roles where she shone brilliantly and as characters that became her, and this is her most recognized, and that makes me sad.
  • Let me again express my dislike of Truman Capote.

But I do love the song.

I know, a circle staircase in McKinney is hardly a fire escape in New York City, but sentimental moods always find me humming ‘Moon River’ to myself.

Moon river, wider than a mile, I’m crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker: wherever you’re going, I’m going your way.
Two drifters, off to see the world, there’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waiting ’round the bend, my huckleberry friend: moon river and me.

As far as poetry goes, it doesn’t get much better than that.

This past week, a lot of friends and a lot of y’all graduated from high school and college. And with that excitement comes a lot of uncertainty. I think oftentimes we actually do know the future—we know where we want to be in 3, 5, 10 years. What we don’t know if our path between here and there, the hesitant footsteps we must take now, so that we’ll end up there. We know what’s on the other side of Moon River, but haven’t the faintest idea of how to cross.

I wish I could say that changes.

I wish that nine months after my own graduation, I had it figured out. That I haven’t felt those twinges of uncertainty since I left Waco, and that I’ve been steadily paddling towards my rainbow…but I don’t, I have, and I’m not.

I have my nights where I dream of different cities and different days; I have Sunday afternoons when I miss the comfort of Baylor, and having a dozen people by whom I felt known and loved, within 5 minutes of me. I have days when I wish I didn’t work two jobs, and when my apartment—though darling and super cute—feels hollow. I wish for more.

There’s something to be said for contentment, for being okay with being just okay, and for not wishing away the present. You are where you are by divine appointment; don’t ever for a moment think that you’ve wandered so far that God’s said ‘yeah…I’m going to let her find her own way back; this is a mess and someone over here has it figured out so…’

But there’s also something to be said for wanting more.

Far be it from me, to say that the hopes and dreams on your heart are God’s plan for you. But they’re there, there’s no denying that, and as important as contentment is, refusing to settle is more so.

Moon River is waiting to be crossed.

Sign up for a salsa class, write a letter to your best friend from high school, apply for 60 jobs in one sitting, all over the country, just because you can. Visit your friend in New York, or in Seattle, or San Diego. Start the Etsy business, buy a domain for your blog, take the leap of faith that a year from now you’ll be grateful for. You can’t cross this river—this uncertain bridge from now into the gilded future—in a day. You can’t. But you can get a bit of the way. And tomorrow you’ll do a little more. And then a little more. Suddenly the life you’ve curated seems a lot more like reality than just wishful thinking on Pinterest, and you look up to realize you’re making progress.

You can do it, huckleberry friends.

uniform days


I’ve talked about the effect uniforms have had on me before (see this post for some mom jeans and introspection). But today I’m not just talking about them, I’m stepping back to high school. The things I do for this blog.

Okay, that’s not entirely fair, because I love this sweater a lot, and have been looking for a decent plaid for a while. But when I slipped these on and stood in front of my mirror, I was not prepared to see 17 y/o Chrisy staring back at me.

High school was a pretty solid time. I had amazing friends, was blessed by caring teachers, and we could see the ocean from the patio where we ate lunch, for goodness sake. We had our fair share of dramas and angst, of course, but that’s going to happen anywhere.

We did have red and baby blue polos that we had to wear, with these awful electric blue plaid skirts. They were supposed to be at least five inches above the ground when kneeling—I kid you not—which meant maybe 2 inches above the knee when standing…not a flattering cut.

We all rolled them.

I didn’t start until senior year, because it wasn’t until then that I realized I could get away with it. My advisor called every girl to the front of the room and measured their skirts with an index card, but not me and not my friend Ariana; she knew ours were long enough (clearly, I was one of the cool kids)(not at all)(insert hairflip bitmoji anyways).

Anyways, it was then that I realized I could get away with rolling my skirt, because my teachers just assumed I wouldn’t. I think my classmates did to, and let’s be real, the extra inches that I could convince myself to reveal (because I was too much of a rule follower to actually make my skirt a flattering length, and just wanted to feel like I was rebelling, instead of actually showing off skin) didn’t draw any more attention to myself.

I don’t talk about modesty a lot on here, because I think it’s such a relative topic, especially in a school setting. And my feminist side comes out to fight: women shouldn’t be required to dress preemptively and defensively. I’m going to stop before I get up on that particular soapbox, but you can assume I have plenty of thoughts on the matter of dress codes.

I will say, though, that I wish I hadn’t rolled my skirt.

It’s classic peer pressure, doing some inane thing because you think it’ll change someone’s impression of you. Chances are, no one else notices. In my case, that rang particularly true, and I kinda wish I’d realized that. That the people whose interest would be impacted by a shorter hemline, these were not the people I wanted as friends. And the friends that I did have, they didn’t notice. Because what is a hemline next to your eyes or your laugh?

Yeah, it’s cliche, but the people whose opinion matters, they aren’t looking at your legs, or at how well you wear a uni-gender polo shirt (I can confirm that they’re as bad as they sound). I wish I could’ve told that to a high-school me.

Which was why it was so interesting to try on something so reminiscent now. To put on an unflattering skirt that makes me happy, to wear clunky shoes of my own volition, to slip on a giant sweater that doesn’t do anything for my figure. When you are unabashedly who you are, the clothes you put yourself in dim in comparison to that character.

new orleans pt. I

My friend Caroline and I keep joking that, in the nebulous future, after we’re well-traveled and well-aged, we’re going to make a coffee table book.

And while I wish this was a publication announcement (it isn’t), and that we were celebrating our literary success with Sprinkles (we aren’t), and that we’d already been to the places we’re planning (we haven’t), I think it’s still an exciting concept worth sharing.

So here’s the backstory: We went to New Orleans a few weekends ago, and let me tell you, it was pretty fun. But while we were planning, we realized we had two options: do the photogenic things, or the ‘us’ things. The things Pinterest told us to do, and the things we wanted to do. Live it up on Bourbon Street vs. eat our weight in beignets. Get our palms read vs. do a bookstore hop. The glam way vs. the us way.

We chose the us way.

And we want to keep doing that. We want to go to pretty places and see pretty things, and to experience it the way we want, without worrying about how photogenic it is. Yes, I realize the irony of posting pictures and saying I don’t want to care about appearances. But we decided that we’d be experience based, and capture those, instead of focusing on capturing pictures, and squeezing in some actual fun on the side.

We’re calling this not-entirely-hypothetical book ‘Elastic‘. Because that’s what our waistbands will be.

Everyone says you should travel in your 20s. But I feel like there’s a very Instagram-approved way of seeing the world. It involves mimosas and flights around the globe and nights out and Jillian-Michaels-approved portion control. None of which are necessarily bad things, they’re just really really really not my cup of tea. Image isn’t something I talk about on here as much as I should, and I don’t know if I’m really in a position to be talking about it, so I won’t delve too deeply. I’ll just say this: if/when I see the four corners of the world, it’ll be in an elastic waistband, and the best moments will not be the ones I post on Insta, or even on this corner of the internet. They’ll be the deleted images of me spilling powdered sugar down my front, wearing less-than-flattering shoes because comfort sometimes trumps fashion, and ugly-laughing.

That’s what Elastic is.

It’s your style, your mentality, your smile. Going to lovely places, with lovely people, indulging in lovely things. And settling back into the in-between with grace, not just dreaming of the next plane ticket.