Baby Blues

This whole dressing while pregnant thing isn't easy. Especially when there are no maternity stores on island. The idea of buying a size up sounds good in theory, but then everything just feels oversized. I'm all about showing off this little lady as she grows. This BCBG skirt still loves me, but it's one of the few things from my old wardrobe that does. 

I'm learning the keys to not feeling like a large slob are exercise (thank you Physique 57 pregnancy modifications!), a good diet, accessories, heels, and refusing to give up my personal style. Hopefully those will carry me through to October and then the fabled fourth trimester (where you're no longer pregnant but according to your body you might as well be). For a brunch date with Seth and friends I tried to feel like myself by combining stripes with my snakeskin bag. I love mixing patterns. This is pretty tame but I have to work with what I've got. Most of my maternity tops are pretty bleh basic so far.

Look at that well-loved bag! It looks a lot more well-loved (read: worn out) in person. This poor puppy needs to be replaced something terrible, but I also need shorts that zip up all the way, so a new bag will have to wait.

BCBG stripes and bag; maternity top, from friend; shoes, Nine West (old); belt, street fair in London; baby girl starting to creep outward in the stomach region, my own creation;

Seth and I have been trying to take more time together: joint trips grocery shopping, work day lunches, weekend coffee runs. This was a Sunday Brunch with friends at Hook, Line, & Sinker in Frenchtown. These days when I go there all I want is eggs benedict, which is off limit because supposedly the runny eggs can kill baby girl. No bueno. So I've been going for their burgers, which I'd never gotten at brunch but they're fantastic. Of course I have to ask for them well done (for the same reason as the runny eggs) and I feel like a total pansy. Growing up, my Syrian family often offered raw lamb dishes at family gatherings. Straight up raw. Like no one even pretended to try and cook it. So I have a thing for raw meat. But well done it is. And I always mention that I'm pregnant when I ask for my well done burger, lest anyone think I'm a wuss.

Bordeaux Cultural Fair and Farmers Market

This weekend we headed for the loooong (island speak for "20 minute") drive out to the west side of the St Thomas for the Cultural Fair and Farmers Market in Bordeaux. The Bordeaux Farmers Market isn't your typical hipster/small farmers gathering. It's a collective of mainly Rastafarian organic farmers who, one weekend a year, go all out to celebrate and share their culture, food, produce, crafts, natural medicines/remedies. There were even several drum lesson set-ups. This event draws looooads of white people. Seriously. Tons. Ask anyone on the island that has been. I like watching all the newbies try to figure out what each food stand is selling. The stands often don't offer menus or prices and the poor first-timer Stateside transplants can't understand a word the dreadlocked guy on the other side of the counter is saying. They end up ordering a styrofoam container of food through a serious of points, grunts, and brief unsure phrases like "that orange stuff" and "a fried thing-y." And a couple trying to order a meal together and share? Forget it. Relationships have ended over less. When one half of the couple didn't understand that just because she asked for soup doesn't mean she'll get it if she wasn't there at the exact time to earthenware pot comes off the hot rocks? And her failure means the other half of the couple is stuck eating some sort of lentil substance and a grey mystery food? Not that I know what that feels like first hand. Nope. I've got it under control.

This isn't to say the food isn't good. It's delicious. Love it. This year we feasted on eggplant, barbecued tofu, potatoes, and black eyed pea fritters (peas balls). And it's good to be shaken up and tossed out of your comfort zone. The fair is a typical island environment. We waited fifteen minutes for a mysteriously absent woman to return to her stand so that I could buy a bag of spirulina, and when I did she seemed annoyed that I was bothering her. But three or four stands down I bought sorrel (the flowers, not the greens) from a woman who patiently answered all my questions about how much I needed and how to make a traditional sorrel drink (recipe to come!). It's the island. Like I said, it's nice to be out of your comfort zone.

Although the weekend fair is only held once a year, the Bordeaux Farmers Market is twice a month on the first and third Sundays. There aren't as many vendors on regular weeks but there is almost always a variety of seasonal produce, stands selling honey, eggs, and vinegars, and the pumpkin soup guy. Oooooh, the pumpkin soup guy. Don't miss him. Trust me. He alone is worth the ridiculously long twenty minute drive.

Tie Dye Jeans, Yachts, and Iced Coffee

That's how I kicked off Saturday morning, grabbing iced coffee with Seth and some friends down in Yacht Haven and pretending to be rich and fancy. (By the way, two of our good friends are dating and her influence has started creeping into his apparel choices. He suddenly looks like a sharper and more put-together version of himself. I love when that happens to guys.)

Do you like that copper bracelet on the right? I bought it on an elementary school field trip to an indian reservation or burial ground or something. I'd say I was a downright cool fourth grader but that was around the same time I was having morning meltdowns because my mom said you couldn't wear royal blue sweatpants (of the elastic-at-the-ankles variety), matching sweatshirt, purple zebra print quilted high-tops, and four inch long chandelier earrings to school. I was told to either take off the earrings or switch the sweatpants for jeans. Obviously a tantrum inducing order. Obviously.

utility vest, Nola's Boutique; tee, American Apparel; tie dye jeans, Current/Elliott (via Twice); shoes, 80%20 (old, similar here); bag, BCBG; pearl and leather necklace, Nola's Boutique; gold necklace, gift; watch, Timex; braclets, old

So we wandered down behind Gucci to take these photos. And in case any of you guys accidentally got two Gucci Disco bags for Christmas and still have nooooo idea what to do with your extra one. (All those sleepless nights trying to figure out how to cope with two bags...) I like them. They're pretty. Problem solved.

On Where I've Been This Week...

Last weekend I was telling a new friend blah, blah, I blog three times a week, blah. Lies. (At least if you judge me by the past week.) But I have a good excuse. We have had a rotation of house guests spinning in and out of our home. At one point the guest room, office, and living room couch all had inhabitants. Our guest list contained people of both the work colleague and the good friend variety. So while there were meetings and times of heavy discussions about the toll working internationally can take on employees, brainstorming, and future development the time was also sprinkled with rugby, a St John hike, making good food, other people doing the dishes, softball, lots of beaches, the Patriots game, and reading a book in the shade while watching Seth & Co generally act like idiots. And no blogging. Sorry 'bout that.

My Love Affair With Spray Paint

It's bad, you guys. Somewhere along the line I learned that Rustoleum fixes everything. Ugly picture frames. Rusty mason jar lids. Hand-me-down patio furniture. Relationships. When my world is crumbling and caving in, Rustoleum is usually in the top three of things I turn to. You think I'm kidding? But oh no, joking I am not. Recently I've been having living room melt downs about the state of our coffee table. (I just cleaned it! How is it covered in crap already? What's wrong me me that I can't even keep my coffee table cleared off? How can I combat life's problems with a cluttered coffee table? It's too distracting!) Seth will hold me and let me cry for about 15 seconds, which is about all I need. Then I go on with my life.

Last month while visiting Boston we swung by IKEA. (Ok, no one swings by IKEA. We were there for a few hours and had lunch and tiny princess cakes.) In the deadly "put it all in your bag because it's only five dollars" section, I tried to convince Seth that we needed a tray to corral all the ridiculousness that ends up on our coffee table. His answer was that he'd never heard me mention wanting a tray before and too much princess cake combined with hour three of IKEA overwhelming-ness had me convinced I needed everything. But he told me if I really wanted a tray I could use the surfboard tray he picked out during wedding gift returns. The one that has now been sitting unused in a closet for seven years. (We don't surf. And even if we did I don't think we'd need to tell our friends about our new hobby via a surfboard tray. My guess is we could just tell them using our words.) Only if I can paint it and removed the surfboards, I said. And we reached an agreement.

So last weekend I drug the dusty surfboard out of it's seven year exile. I'm not even positive I'm going to keep it white. I was just so excited to organized the coffee table that I went with what I had.

And I love it. As you can see, another living room staple got an update too. Spray paint is like an addiction. Once you start spraying stuff you see all the other items that need updating. Plus it's a a pain to pull out our drop cloth so I try to get it all done at once. The only thing that kept me from painting our paper towel holder and tape dispenser was the rain that moved in. And the key to not having something look spray painted is cleaning it well before painting (no dust) and to spray several thin layers, allowing drying time in between. Don't try to get it all covered on the first or second go round because then you get drips.

And the tray is doing a great job, pullings it's weight as a member of this family by containing the coasters, candles, books, and electronics that usually get tossed haphazardly all over the table. Seth wondered aloud if the people who gave that chip and dip bowl to my parents as a wedding gift back in the 70s ever imagined it might be used as a cell phone and tiny digital musical device holder. Probably not. Unless they watched a lot of sci-fi movies.

Now, go forth and spray paint. The weekend awaits you. You'll be surprised how exhilarating it is. Nothing says empowerment like deciding the generic box store paper towel holder should be red, and making it so.

2013, I'll Be There In A Sec

Our feet have been firmly planted on St Thomas soil for about a week, but as you can see by the picture above I'm still hanging on to winter. The morning after a snow we drove into Boston to meet someone. A 30 minute drive through that snowy serenity. And then a five minute frustrated shout session in the car because I typed our destination address into my phone incorrectly and had Seth driving in circles around Cambridge. Gotta keep if real here. We've all been there. It's cool.

So as I try and hang on to our wintery December, 2013 is currently storming onward. I never thought I was a resolution girl. I used to pride myself on saying I didn't make resolutions but I don't think that's true anymore. A few Januaries ago I said no more flip-flops and it stuck. Another January I committed to wear more red lipstick during both day and night. Now it's a common addition. So I guess resolutions aren't the worst.

So 2013, here's what we'll try to do together:

1. Burn more candles. Good ones. I want a home that smells warm and inviting, even when I'm the only one home.
2. Learn to sew. When I was about eight I got a Girl Scout badge for it. To earn it I sewed a white vest and then puff painted flowers and butterflies all over it. I want to do more of that.
3. Continue developing this space. I'm having fun here. I love sharing the things I enjoy with those out there interested enough to read about them. Being featured on Lucky Magazine's site this week was fun affirmation that just doing things I love is enough to inspire others. I'm hoping for more of that.

That's it. I feel like a short list is best. Accomplishable. I'm sure I'll add things along the way. A couple months ago I started playing the guitar. That wasn't something I would have foreseen in January 2012, but it happened. And all the eat right, work out more, read more books, watch less tv, yada yada. Those aren't resolutions. Those are necessities for a healthy life and I'm always striving to improve in those areas.

What about you? Any great resolutions you've made this year or in a past year?

Thursday Date Night - Dinner at the Ritz

Back in April, we were given a gift certificate for dinner at Bleuwater at the St Thomas Ritz-Carlton. (Remember when we used our other one here?) We opted to hold onto it until our anniversary in September. Silly us. All the good places are closed in September for the off-season. (We forget that every. single. year.) So we pushed our anniversary dinner back to October. But Bleuwater remained closed for renovations. Last week we were finally able to use it. We scooted in right before the gift certificate expired and before we jetted off to the States for the holidays. And yum.

Yum. Yum. Yum.

But what do you expect? It's the Ritz.

The night out also gave me a chance to wear a vintage top I just picked up at the St Thomas Humane Society Boutique for six buckeroos. Silk on the inside, sparkle on the outside. Maybe it's not every girl who wants a bashful zebra peaking out from behind squiggly red and silver stripes on her shirt, but I'm going pretty nuts for it. 

Sequin Top, St Thomas Humane Society Boutique; Cargo Skinnies, Free People (via Twice); Sunglasses, Gucci (old); Clutch, my grandmother's; Rafia Heels, Boutique 9 (old, similar here and here); Earrings, made by a friend;

And just to make sure you know I got my six bucks' worth...

...the sequins continue to the back. None of this sequins-in-the-front-tshirt-in-the-back business that retailers keep trying to pull off these days. And yes, I wore my skinny cargos to fancy Bleuwater. Because I was also covered in sequins. And my heels were about five inches. And all those rich tourist men eat their $48 entrees in their Tommy Bahamas shirts and Rainbows because they're on vacation. So I can wear my skinny cargos if I want to.

The scenery at the Ritz is so beautiful. It's not everyday that I get a view like this when exiting the bathroom:

Oh wait, yes it is. Lucky me. He tolerates my zebra sequins and looks good while doing it. Reason #432 why he is pretty darn fantastic.

Spiced Rum

I always try to make something yummy for good friends around Christmas. A few years ago it was peppermint marshmallows. Last year it was cinnamon buns. This year Seth and I tried our hand at homemade spiced rum. It was a grand experiment. We figured if we're living in a place where we can buy a handle of yummy local St Croix rum for less that $11, why would we not? How did it take us so long to come up with this idea?

We did it together on one of our Thursday date nights. Our hope is to keep tweaking the recipe and make a secret Rogati spiced rum. You know, the kind where friends and family are all "I hope I get a bottle of the special Rogati rum this December. I look forward to it all year long!" But for this first year we stuck with the Serious Eats recommendations: vanilla bean, orange zest, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, star anise, allspice, nutmeg and pepper. Almost all stuff we already had at home. Seemed like a safe way to get started.

I was actually kind of bummed to empty the bottle into individual gift bottles when it was done steeping. So pretty.

St. John - Cafe Roma

After a rough Friday a couple weeks ago, Seth and I decided to pretend we were leaving St Thomas forever and took the ferry over to St John for dinner. (Don't act like none of you other St. Thomians have never done the same thing.) We hadn't been to Cafe Roma in years and Italian sounded good. Seth goes a little bonkers for their veal. And John Heibert, the owner and chef, walked around a bit during the meal to chat with patrons and inquire about their meals. I love when chefs do that. 

Tables by the second story window are pretty perfect because you can watch friends walk by on the street below and send them creepy "I'm watching you" texts. Or at least that's what we did. I was also excited to see Penfold's Koonunga Hill on the wine list. The wine is a part of (Project)Red. A portion of the proceeds go to help combat AIDS in Africa. After learning about the collaboration last year I'd been searching for it on St Thomas with no luck. It must have been hiding at Cafe Roma the whole time.

The night out also gave me a chance to wear my new handwoven scarf from Karama. It was lightweight and perfect for the ferry ride. (Get you one!) Seth was a good sport and let me drag him around Cruz Bay after dinner trying to find someplace uncrowded and well-lit to get a picture of it. We finally found an empty porch at Mongoose Junction. Then I went and waited in line for the bathroom behind a bride. She hadn't peed since 2pm. And didn't mind sharing that information with a stranger. Cruz Bay. Always fun.

Scarf, Karama Gifts; Blouse, Nola's Boutique; Cargo Skinnies, Free People (via Twice); Sandals, Antia (old); Bag, gift from friend; Earrings, gift from mom; Bracelets, Barefoot Buddha, Nola's Boutique, and vintage (like "got it on a field trip when I was a little kid" vintage)

Vegas, Baby

December on St Thomas means Vegas Night! This is an annual fundraiser that supports one of the local private schools. Its gives Seth and some of his buddies a chance to break out their tuxes. All the ladies make sure every last rhinestone, sequin, and feather on this little island is in attendance. (Some of the ladies should maybe invite a few extra feathers and sequins to help cover their who-whos next year...)

I am so glad I invested in a sequin pencil skirt last year after it went on post-New Year's Eve sale. It gave me something to wear when Seth and I made the night-before decision to attend Vegas Night this year. Then I spent 24 hours going more than a little crazy over what top to wear with it. I did not want to spend any money on a new one and I finally made a game time decision to wear a dress backwards as a ruffly blouse. (Usually it has a boatneck neckline and the ruffles are on the back.) Creative solutions are the best!

dress as blouse, Tucker for Target (old); skirt, Asos (old, similar); shoes, Carlos by Carlos Santana (super duper old); bag, Big Buddha (old); earrings, Swarovski (gift, similar); necklace, vintage Napier (similar)

Normally I get home from these events and wonder why no one told me my hair morphed into a humidity-induced disaster over the course of the evening. To avoid that frustration, this year I teased up the crown to give myself a retro ponytail. Then I hair sprayed the bejeebus out of it. I shellacked it so well that it stayed nearly perfect even after sleeping on it. So the next morning I just twisted the pony up into a bun and secured with bobby pins. It got me through the following (rainy) day, including a mid-morning brunch with friends in Charlotte Amalie and an afternoon holiday party.

shirt, Brooks Brothers (similar on sale); skirt, Express (old); shoes, J.Crew (found brand new at La Luna clothing swap); bag, BCBG (old); earrings, vintage; neacklace, vintage Napier; sunglasses, RayBan; umbrella, Totes (similar); 

Not bad. I should pull out the hair spray more than twice a year...

I also should suggest somewhere other than Gladys' for brunch. Haven't been in awhile but they didn't have breakfast on the menu anymore, which we didn't realized until after we'd ordered drinks. Trapped. So I had to eat a mahi sandwich at 11am on a Sunday. Not ideal. But anything that causes a weekend stroll down Drake's Passage is ideal. So I guess it all evened out in the end.

Georgia Pride

Ouch. To watch a team you love play as hard as they did and lose the biggest game they've had so far during your lifetime just a few yards (and seconds) from scoring the game winning touchdown. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

But I had the honor of attending one of the best universities in the country. Challenging academics. An incredible social and music scene. Rich in history. Grassy quads, beautiful architecture, a campus covered in hundreds-of-years-old oak trees. I didn't know how unique it really was until I left and realized all universities weren't created equal. I meet a surprising number of adults who find out where I went and say, "If I could do it again, I wish I had gone there." Or how many bright talented high school kids I encounter who apply and don't get in. I was lucky. I just didn't know it.

One of the many things we do that makes the school special is take pride in game day. We respect our team and dress up for games. None of this t-shirt, flip flop, cut-offs business. College guys wore collars and sometimes button-ups with ties (in the sweltering Georgia Septembers). College girls wore dresses and heels. Its just how it was done. We're not the only school in the country to do it. But we're one of them. And it's special. I still can't go watch a game and look like a mess. It just doesn't feel right. Even if I'm just going to be sitting in a friend's living room with a couple other people.

Blouse, Nola's Boutique; Shorts, Gap (old); Shoes, Cole Haan (old, similar style here); Bag, BCBG (old, Final Cut;
Necklace (as bracelet) Chinatown vendor, NYC; Sunglasses, Vera Wang for Kohls (old)

A big thanks to my friend Christina who let us come crash her living room for four hours to watch a game she had no interest in. Our Puerto Rico Directv recently stopped carrying CBS. Because they're Puerto Rico and they just decide to do stuff like that sometimes. Seth's also in the process of creating a signature Georgia game day drink. It's good but he's still tweaking it. Today's version included sriracha, although I don't know if it's going to stay in the final recipe. Hopefully he'll have it perfected by our bowl game. Now everyone close your eyes, cross your fingers, and say it with me "Cotton Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Cotton Bowl...