the shortcut

The winter-spring limbo has left me lethargic and uninspired and thus, I apologize for my weeklong radio silence. And thus, I give you nothing but weekend picspam.

But before we get to that, important things first! The uber-fancy musical e-card we received from our vet reminded me that Audrey is 2 today (give or take a few)! Birthday cat! Yay!

Onto the picspam. Now, this post’s title might not seem so readily fitting to the following photos, but this past weekend was a bright and friend-ful reminder of the pure joy dwelling in this marvelous city can bring. All of these little details may seem mundane to the casual observer, but they work to piece together evocative and often hazy (as in a handful of the pictures themselves) keepsakes for each of our personal NYC’s. My favorite NYC moments are the ones with a sense of hygge (introduced to me by bff Katja). It rhymes with googley, and is pretty aptly described on Flavorwire as “people, things, or surroundings that give a sense of joy and well-being. It is probably most closely related to cosy, with a little good cheer thrown in for extra warmth.” We had all elements this weekend: friends, Brooklyn bars with their soft Edison lighting, dinner parties, kittehs, cupcakes and ice cream. It’s the simple stuff dreamy memories are made of. And the stuff that refreshes how blessed we are to be here.

The Woody Allen corned beef-pastrami sandwich at America’s most famous deli, Carnegie Deli

This is my work friend Tani (the one in the middle). She’s one of the most positive, smiliest, cucumber-cool gals I know. You can check out her life musings at her blog Perspection.

Blue Ribbon fried chicken

Blue Ribbon fried chicken face

American Eagle cardigan, cheapie store blouse, Kova & T liquid leggings, vintage booties

Birthday boy

If any of this sounds ridiculous or ill of grammar, please excuse my DST brain. And be careful crossing the street this week, y’all. Springing forward be messing with our motor skills.

Hey, hey, did you guys know that when I go girlie, I go HARD? No, I didn’t think so. In yet another instance of stereotypical sacchariferous, unabashed ladylike fashion, I admit a fondness for all things Rococo, Versailles, Marie Antoinette. I will eat a dozen macarons in one sitting and was once elatedly excited when someone told me I resembled a cupcake at a friend’s wedding. I frolicked with the frivolous glee of a middle American child at Disney World the first time Brian took me to Versailles (the same day, which, in a perfect expression of synchronism, I held the door to a cramped fromagerie open for Mz. Sofia Coppola and her baby carriage). And Sofia’s rendition of Marie’s ennui does no wrong in my thus candied eyes. Also, I’m super duper into costumes. It then follows that I must rejoice in events that suggest/require themed attire. And sometimes I accoutre in theme when the occasion calls not for it. Yesterday, for instance, Brian, aka besthusbandinthegalaxy, bought tickets to the first U.S. screening and director Q&A of Benoît Jacquot’s Les adieux à la reine (Farewell, My Queen), the story of the devotion of the ill-fated queen’s reader (servant POV, what what!) that opened this year’s Berlin International Film Festival. Well, then, what’s a girl to do when faced with such an affair? Dress in at least slight approximation to a macaron or profiterole, natch.

Farewell, My Queen still from The Huffington Post

This outfit needed something in pistachio. I just couldn’t get it together. So you can just imagine a pistachio macaron sitting in my belly. I will do this, too.

You must drink bubbles before a Marie Antoinette era film. Must.

Shimmy-shakin’ in a Zara crochet sweater (more peach IRL), BB Dakota Alethea skort (yes, I said skort), Repetto lace-ups, Purevile Marie Antoinette neckace

Besides the aforementioned fixations with 18th-century French frippery (which is sumptuously represented therein), I did truly love this film and highly recommend it. It’s toned in a such a way I haven’t seen in a picture on this subject matter before; it gives the viewer the sensation of confinement and apprehensive discomfort from the servants’ vantage point (a rarity) — a large feat (re:confinement) given it was filmed at Versailles proper. Ça suffit!