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We share everything! But do we really?

Earlier this year, as I was having dinner with my boyfriend, I told him about how proud I was to have lasted 27 days without spending any money (on clothes at least...). I couldn't keep up the good work for 3 more days because as a fashion editor, let's face it, it's a miracle to spend a week without buying something you've put on five 'must-have' selections.
Anyway, Zara had revealed yet a new collection, and I had my eyes on a pair of pants, that I already own in two different colors. Let's say, that I couldn't let those white ones go. But I was able to last 27 days, without buying anything, clothes-wise, and I was proud, to say the least. But my boyfriend surprisingly wasn't impressed with my capacity to not draw my credit card for a whole month. 

As I was explaining to him the great joy I was feeling, literally liberated and more aware of my spendings, and after being able to choose wisely what I wanted to spend my money on this month, he corrected me. 
'Our money', he said. 
When did my money become our money? Does it just grow into 'our money' whenever you are a proud participant of a long-term relationship? 


Historically speaking, to say one's woman money is her partner, would make us go back to the 60s. It wasn't until 1965, that women, finally, at least in France, were allowed to open to their own bank accounts without the approval of their husband. This law voted in France marked the beginning of freedom for women, who didn't have to rely on their husbands. 

In a relationship for over 5 years now, my boyfriend and I have always joked about the fact that we shared everything, including money. Of course, this was particularly valid, when we shared money as long as it affected his bank account, rather than mine. In fact, for the first couple of years, our relationship relied on his ability to work and get paid, while I was still at school, not financially independent. When I first started to work, our dates and other outgoings still relied on him, since he was making more than I did, three times more, to be exact. 
Being a young, financially dependent women, money was a surreal concept for me. Although I didn't grow up with loaded parents, throwing money at me like a spoiled child, my parents reasonably responded positively to my shopping demands, when needed. I wasn't spoiled nor wasn't to pity, I was the normality. A kid that could ask for something to her parents, that would grant or not her wishes. You could be sure that if my mother sensed that my wish to have yet another Barbie doll was unreasonable and absurd, she'll just let me cry my eyeballs out until I moved on and realized she was actually right. 
I didn't fully understand it, not until I had to pay for my own expenses, taxes, and charges. So of course, it was easy for me to attribute someone else's revenue to myself when actually it wasn't mine to have nor to spend. 

Now, as we share an actual household and have a joint account, supplied every week or so, equally from our parts, you could say that 'my money, his money, are our money'. But does my money have to be all his and the same for him? 
Getting into an argument about it, he couldn't understand how my money had to be all mine when we were supposed to share everything. When I don't lecture him about the fact that he's bought yet another pair of sneakers when our wall still needs some decoration, I couldn't figure out why he was so upset, okay upset may be a strong word, let's say, annoyed about the fact that I bought a stupid pair of pants.  At the end of the day, my money is mine first before it has to belong to anyone else. As part of my freedom and my rights as a woman, my money is mine until I decide to do whatever I want to do with it. My money and well as other sensitive topics, concern my happiness and my rules. 

Did I get this right? 

Love,

Elsa. 



Cardigan is the new black

Remember when you would go out and your mother would always say before you'd head to the door in your cute tank top: 'did you take a jacket?', 'wear a sweater, it's cold outside', 'don't forget your cardigan, you don't want to catch a cold'?

Do you still hear her voice now as an adult whenever you step outside? Thinking how you should have listened to your mom, even though she has stopped reminding you to add layers to your look after the 258th time you rolled your eyes at her.


Well, guess what? Cardigans are back and they are in. If growing up, you thought those cute little buttoned-up jumpers were more practical than trendy, now as an adult, you can say they are definitely part of the must-have type of pieces. Who knew our grand mother's favorite piece of fashion would the number one trend that everyone is dreaming to get their hands on?

I'm not the one to judge honestly. I love and have always loved a good old cardigan. The way they fit around your bust and make a simple outfit look great. They've been my best friends for a million years, although I didn't like, and still don't like, to pair my cardigan with a dress. I'm sorry but too much of the granny looks for me.

And now more than ever, cardigans have been my favorite thing to wear. With a tank top, a matching sweater top, a t-shirt, or nothing underneath but a lacy bra, paired with jeans, or a satin skirt, they are the easiest fashion item to wear, especially when you don't feel like dressing up. Their buttoned-up looks are always so flattering for the décolleté, making it a sexy, chic, and casual piece. A must-have, as I said.

Care to try one?

If &Other Stories has undeniably the best selection when it comes to cardigans, the price range may through you off. But to the rescue, there's Zara, which has amazingly updated their collection with pastel tone and soft cardigan, with embroidery or matching cami top, bralette, or shorts. But the original trendsetter, the one behind the whole Katies Holmes street style extravaganza is the brand Khaite. Now ladies, be prepared because as trendy and beautiful this New-York based brand is, it is on the most pricy side. Paloma Wool has also a well-curated selection, perfect for those social-distancing times. Might as well call your banker right now and let him or her know that there's going to be some damage to your account.


Love,

Elsa.




How Staying at Home made me feel less confident

On a sunny Sunday afternoon, as I was ready to enjoy yet another day staying safe at home, scrolling through Instagram turned out to be the worst mistake I could do. Pictures of people enjoying their social-distancing quarantine, having great healthy breakfasts, wearing nothing but shorts and bras, working out every chance they get. As I was there, laying on the couch, wearing my old pajamas I hadn't left in two days, I was wondering if even during a pandemic, there was a good way to stay at home.



I wish I had read what I’m about to write. I wish someone had shared their story about how difficult it is to love and accept yourself and your body in such difficult times. But as I scrolled through the dark woods of Instagram, I realized that no one would share anything but photographs of how they’re enjoying this time of self-preservation and self-care.

As I was trying to navigate through the fact that Instagram isn't real life, I got a daily reminder that no I wasn't enjoying this quarantine like I should be. When my days were resumed to waking up, work, coffee, lunch, work, dinner, TV, I had the weird sense that I should be doing more.

If feeling bad about my lack of productivity wasn't enough, looking at myself in the mirror was not an easy task to do. The whole no-makeup look that I imposed on my face, and the lack of flat belly and slim legs, were screaming unflattering and I started to believe it.



Forcing myself to wake up early, work out, and find other activities to occupy my time off work, skipping meals, not eating when I was hungry, I was back to my old habits. After 30 days of daily yoga practice, I thought that everything was going to change. I was ready to feel better about myself, slimmer, happier, less-stressed... Better. But none of this happened, I still had this feeling of self-loathing cause all I could see was the way people were living their social-distancing, happily and positively. 

I felt heavy, empty, loathing the way I look and hating the way I felt. I refused to stay in pajamas any longer. I didn't understand how people were able to do so much while stuck at home, or how they had the energy to accomplish the simple act of getting dressed. I didn't feel depressed, I was annoyed. Annoyed to have to stay inside, negative as I've never felt before, tired and lazy. 


One evening, as I was taking a shower after my daily work-out session, I was rinsing off the sweats and the negativity. A yoga practice that teaches you self-love and gratefulness was useless if you weren't feeling good about yourself. 

I quickly realized that my staying home didn't have to be the same stay as other people. I found peace in activities that made me happy. I found happiness in small gestures and a daily routine that was respectful of me, on my own terms. I got back on the right track, and find joy in those times of social-distancing. It took me 30 days, but at least I got some kind of confidence back. 

Love,

Elsa. 

Why I'm aiming to have the style of Zoë Kravitz in High Fidelity

Cool girl alert. I repeat. Cool-girl alert! This is me, late to the whole game, appreciating Zoë Kravitz's style in the Hulu series 'High Fidelity'. If the already made fashion icon has nothing to prove to the fashion sphere, her character in this 2020 TV show adds up to the fact that she's the true casual style queen. Let me explain.


When a global pandemic turns into a 'staying-home dream come true' situation, you have no other choice to run straight into a binge-watching session of all the new shows you've missed these past few months.

If social-distancing was the worst nightmare someone could imagine, after the first few weeks, I did realize it was the best thing that could happen for catching up on spring cleaning, reading, blogging, online not-spending-anything-shopping and TV shows everyone talked about approximately three months ago.

Apart from the undeniable fact that 'High Fidelity' is an addictive and modern reality on relationships in the 21st century, and has the sickest playlist, you'll ever listen to while watching a new series, it's also a masterpiece when it comes to casual, no brainer, trendy, cool-girl material fashion.


For the last hundred years, leave it to Carrie Bradshaw to be the cool-girl inspiration you needed, before being cruelly replaced by Blair Waldorf, Rachel Green, and more recently the whole gang from the Bold Type. Beware, girls, a new icon is in town, and she's been invading the streets of iconic style for quite some time. 
It's not new information that Zoë Kravitz, daughter of the king of music Lenny Kravitz and queen of boho-chic style, Lisa Bonet, is the true style icon. If it's in her vein to have such a trendy look, I mean, it's called heritage, Zoë keeps on giving the fashion inspiration you never knew you needed. From the streets of New York City to her discrete and private wedding in Paris, Zoë has nothing more to prove to climb up to the top of the amazing style pyramid. 


High Fidelity is the adaptation of the eponym book by author Nick Hornby, which was adapted in 2000 in a movie with legendary John Cuzak in the main role, taken by Zoë Kravitz in this series adaptation. As she goes through yet another rough break-up, Rob, music affectionado, and record shop owner, navigates through the ghost of her past-relationship to find out what went wrong. 

Modern, contemporary, edgy and yet casual, Zoë's style in the series is effortless and low-maintenance, mainly composed by vintage band t-shirts, the trusty Levi's jeans, a long leather coat, and occasionally Hawaïan inspired looking shirts. 


Melancholic, nostalgic, romantic to some extent, deeply dramatic and realistic. Words that could describe the show as well as Rob's character. Her style is classic for the cool-girl style, cute dresses, short school girl type of skirt, paired with t-shirts, cardigans that could have belonged to your grandmother, and classic loafers with sports socks as the cherry on top of classy, stylish looks. On some occasions, she'll throw a pair of sweatpants, a must-have in our times of Coronavirus, making-it the most fashionable piece we currently own. Never underestimate the power of sweatpants. Let's all thank High Fidelity for the reminder. 
When sportswear meets chic, edgy meets casual, you end with the most inspirational looks you can find during a pandemic. 
If the series is a must-watch, Zoë Kravits's wardrobe adds-up to the fact that High Fidelity must be one of the greatest shows of 2020. 

Love,

Elsa

Did my jeans just make me sterile?

Did my jeans just make me sterile? Buying this perfect pair of jeans, I would never have thought that those denim pants, as incredible as they look, would be such a pain in the butt (literally) to wear.

Fitted where you expect jeans to fit, flattering as ever, and trendy and elegant as you would dream a good pair of pants would be. How could those jeans be such a pain for my crotch? Pressuring this sensible and intimate area and making me wonder if jeans have to be uncomfortable for you to look good in them?


Searching for the perfect jeans has never been an easy quest. After years of trying on every fit of jeans that were brought into the world, I was starting to think that maybe jeans were not for my silhouette. I gave up happily after trying to fit my hips into an oh-so iconic Levi's 501. Not for me. I was about to pay my respect to the end of what felt like an endless search when I found the adequate jeans for my big hips, considerable behind and small waist: the bootcut.


But the talk about the bootcut and the flared jeans would be for another time. My question is: do jeans really have to be uncomfortable to be flattering?

Trying to fit your butt in this thick all-cotton item, you would know that unless you buy a worn-out vintage pair, it is not an easy task. Trust me, I did find out the hard way. For jeans to be a total delight to wear, you would need some good old 'elastane' in it. But elastane is not good for jeans, and definitely not good for the planet. If you want your jeans to be stretchy AF after two days and one trip to the washing machine go for it. But if you want to strike for quality and sustainability, cotton is the best option to go for.


And when your figures look this good in the mirror, and your legs so perfectly highlighted, how can you question the power of good jeans?

Now with my crotch area still traumatized by this oh-so good looking jeans, I'm still wondering if this is all worth it? Does beauty really is pain? I guess it depends on how much you're ready to suffer to look good in jeans.

Talk to you soon.

Elsa

To buy or not to buy : the Gucci tights dilemma

Eenie Meenie miny mo, should the Gucci tights be wrapped around my toe? Or should they just stay where they are, on the legs on everything fashionistas in town?




Well guess what, the dilemma is over cause I was weak enough to get my hands on this oh-so-trendy accessory from this brand called Gucci. For the not so influential girl, I am, it's quite frustrating to be the one to say, yes I did buy a pair of $90 tights.

I can still hear the judgemental voices of all my friends, fellow fashion addicts, and boyfriend asking 'aren't you afraid they're gonna get ripped?' or 'are you insane buying a pair of $90 tights?'. I apologize, people... And I'm sorry to say that Instagram won. And the crazy amount of posts, photos, and displays my eyes have laid on have successfully worked, to the great despair of my bank account. My money, my choice.



Now, how did those particular tights became such a trendy piece to have? Gucci tights have been around for a while now, crawling their way into the skinny legs of every fashionista out there. As soon as the frisky days arrived, and it's time to cover our legs before they turn purple or blue, the Gucci tights find their way back to the fashionable streets. 

If I've always turned a blind eye on the Gucci fuss, but this time was quite different. Because this time, after seeing the preppy Camille Charrière wearing the tights and killing them, I actually wanted to slip this trend on my legs. 



After an entire week of consideration, hours and hours spent scrolling down the Instagram hole, eyeing girls wearing the tights that screamed at me 'buy me, buy me'. And two days of the actual tights on the Guccy online shopping bag, I did give in. And I am now the proud owner of the legendary Gucci tights, which is now on my possession after a month of waiting.

And being in quarantine for another month, I can now enjoy the beauty of those crazy expensive tights in my own apartment...

Love,

Elsa.



Fun times

Hey there,

Growing up I wasn't very fond of amusement parks, although I grew a big love for Disneyland, land of magic and wonderfulness, I would rather sit on a bench minding the bag packs and all, than fear from my life, and my lunch on some crazy rides. I guess you could say that I was the nerd and afraid of everything kid. In fact, if you insist on going with the stereotypes and other clichés, I was the kid with glasses and braces, with absolutely no style. Anyway, what was I writing about... Amusement park! 


I now understand what I was missing out, and oh boy the high waves of regrets that come rushing through my soul and my mind... All those years in California, Massachusetts, Canada, Virginia, whatever, spent on a bench, watching people having actual fun while I was having my own fun to be fair watching people while eating my hot dogs, drinking my Diet Coke, minding as always not only my own business but also the bags of people that weren't even my friends... See? Regrets right there! Bittersweet regrets... 


As I was fully aware of all those years of missed fun, I was ready to make up for this loss, big loss, of amusement. Bring it on, people! We made our minds up for Universal Studio, a first for my boyfriend and I. Our hopes were high and we were expecting a long day of running around, excited just like kids. What we were not ready for was the sun and the fire that was in our head because it was so fricking hot. We had a lot of fun though, and the fact that we didn't take any camera with us to film, was even more resourceful if I may say. We just enjoyed the moment, we enjoyed our presence, and the fun we were having. 


We were amazed by the place in itself, so huge, amazing, we were just kids caught in the moment, running everywhere, screaming how wonderful it was to be here, and witnessing how lucky we were for being in this park. Two kids in love. We wandered around the empty streets of every neighborhood, look at every building, fake houses and just experience the magic of this place. It was out of space, just like stepping into the movies we have watched growing up (or not). We couldn't stop our surprise and the waves of emotions coming at us every time we would see a different world. 


We were wild, we were free and so in love. We were catching up on our childhood. All those things our parents wouldn't let us do when we were just children, we decided to take part in. We went on all the rides, the scariest ones, and the silly ones. The day was a day of endless fun. We ate all the foods our parents wouldn't have allowed to eat. We bought the crazies expensive stuff just for the sake of it. We weren't reasonable, we were adults behaving like kids in charge. It was messy, regrettable on the next day but so much fun. We had hot dogs for lunch and a big bag of chips, huge sugary drinks, and even had donuts for dinner. We were unstoppable. 


We made friends with fake characters, we met our idols that have passed away a long time ago. I finally got my pictures with Marilyn Monroe and stole a donut from the... I don't remember his name... We kept our mind open for fun activities even if it meant waiting an hour and a half to get soaking wet or taking part in a hit and run.

We flew over Hogwart, twice, turned into minions, saved Springfield, and ran away from the Mommy, as well as zombies, which was even scarier than what I thought it would be. In fact, I knew it was a mistake as soon as we stepped into the Walking Dead "ride", I ended up crying in the middle of the trail begging for the security to let me go through the emergency exit. We also escaped from a hungry dinosaur, obviously fake but still scary and unexpected, as we stepped out soaking wet.  I was a long day, a fun day, worth it and full of unforgettable memories. 


We fought, we made up, we laughed and we screamed, well I did. We kept our eyes closed, well I did, and we even got bored at some time. At the end of the day, we could have fallen asleep on the car. Well, actually I did. 

We went overboard with the sugar, so excited during the day, but hitting our pillows going over our days as soon as we got home. We kept our memories in our minds and memory cards, and donuts in the fridge. We were full with joy fueling our energy. Overall, we were so happy for this little getaway, a bit disappointed over the redundancy of the rides, which don't come with any surprises at the end because they're all a majority of virtual reality. 


I'll talk to you soon,

Love,

Elsa. 

PS: Don't forget that you can subscribe to my Newsletter to receive the blog posts directly into your inbox! You can also follow me on bloglovin for notifications when I post something. Finally, for daily updates, follow me on Twitter and Instagram.

WHERE: UNIVERSAL STUDIO CALIFORNIA
DRESS: BRANDY MELVILLE
BAG: TOMMY HILFIGER
NECKLACE: BRANDY MELVILLE
SHOES: ALL-STARS CONVERSE

Left Behind

Hey there,

I've never felt quite at peace in nature. As a child, I used to identify as a city kid, who's never thought that I could fit outside a concrete jungle. Raised in the suburb, I was in the middle, not quite the cool kid who's grown up between tall buildings and lined up of cars, and far from the dreamy girl raised in the fields as the playground. I was average, and I've always felt average, not pretty, not as intelligent as some of the others, not as creative, and certainly not as brave. I was fearful, mostly alone, but surely a dreamer. 



But then growing up, I was becoming more in peace with the air I was breathing in, more aware of what was around me. I'd always think I would leave for bigger dreams, in a bigger place, where you can feel even more alone as you've ever felt, surrounded by running people, people on the rush, people that would never stop to stare at something. I was left behind, as I was waiting for the subway each and every day, I contemplated people rushing and pushing, every single day. I didn't fit in, I didn't feel the same urge to rush.


My mind travels, my body stays still, but my dreams rush through my blood and my veins. I'm driven by spontaneous thoughts, rushed by some unachievable dreams, but I keep going. I found myself happy in the shine of the lights, I feel the peaceful air running through the wind that touches my skin, and I breathe in the colors of the sky. I'm here but my mind is away, I try to listen to people when they speak, but all I can hear is sounds when my head is somewhere else. I go through every thought I have: silly ones, serious ones. I'm selfish, but I'm a dreamer, I'm generous and I'm a giver.


And I stand in the light, warmed up by the sun, lighted up by the sky, I live. Breathing in and breathing out. My naturality rises and I'm filled with joy. In the shadow hidden from people, touched by some rays of the sun. I walk in the garden, I wander around, exploring and filling my heart with anything that's not anxiety. For a minute, I allow myself to forget, and all I think about is the moment. And the minute I step outside this dream, I come back to reality, and all my thoughts are turned to stress and wishes to go back to a place, where my mind can wander and escape. A little getaway, my safe haven away from the trouble and the noise. 



I'm not a child of nature, not a wild person, I'm a calm person, I stare at the chaos of some people and do not approach it. I'm a free spirit, driven by some crazy impulses, but it's the spontaneity that brings the best in people. Some of the best are the unpredictable ones. I long for those ones, they bring the best memories, souvenirs stuck in our heads forever that we will cherish for our time being. Someday, we'll drive for hours, not knowing where we will go but we'll stop once we'll have figured it out. On that day, we'll stare at the infinity and lied in the sun until it sets. It will be a good day, just like all the other ones, and we will remember it, just like we did with all those days filled with happiness. 


I'll talk to you soon,

Love,

Elsa. 

PS: Don't forget that you can subscribe to my Newsletter to receive the blog posts directly into your inbox! You can also follow me on bloglovin for notifications when I post something. Finally, for daily updates, follow me on Twitter and Instagram.

WHERE: BOTANICAL BUILDING BALBOA PARK
DRESS: ZARA
BAG: REBECCA MINKOFF
NECKLACE: BRANDY MELVILLE
SHOES: ALL-STARS CONVERSE