Summer Arrivals: Charlotte Ronson and Eskell

Father's Day did, in fact, usher in summer. Finally.

Here, a few shots of a few summer dress faves:

The Charlotte Ronson sailor dress screams "summer" to me. With its white hot skirt (adorned with buttons in the back - adorable) and striped shirt top, it is a perfect easy piece in which to lounge on BBQ days such as this.






Okay, while this isn't a new arrival, this Charlotte Ronson knit dress lends itself well to Portland's capricious weather. Here, I've paired it with our last Ashley Watson bag, the structured Plover, and (surprise, surpise) my Rachel Comey belt.


These shots of the Eskell dress don't quite do it justice. It is a blue pinstripe material with bright yellow and orange accents in front.

Bicycle Love from Afar, Part 2

Here are more pictures to add to my repository of cute bicycle pictures:




Source: Facehunter

Summer Dreaming

No, this isn't the fall preview I promised earlier. Those will come slowly.

Today was a gorgeous day. GORGEOUS. It was so gorgeous that it made me think of the many, many things about summers in Portland that I enjoy, which include: farmers markets; the July Jazz Festival in Cathedral Park; lazy sleepy afternoons romping around the waterfront; frequent trips to the coast; even more frequent trips to yogurt shops during sweltering days; Pedalpalooza; hikes in the Gorge; sunset at 9pm (or something like that) ... the list can, and likely will, go on.

These pictures also made me long for summer:

source: Hel-Looks

My resistance is futile when it comes to brilliant pops of color, especially when it involves any variation of the blue and tomato red combination. This picture just makes me happy. And, well, that vintage attaché ... do I even need to finish this sentence?

source: The Sartorialist

I love rompers, jumpers, and anything one piece and effortless. Particularly in the summer and as the weather warms up, I find that I have less patience for any sort of calculation in dress. And, this look is certainly that--effortless and chic. I also adore the vintage shoes with the vintage jumper.

Plotting

Father's Day is just around the corner. And with that, hopefully, summer will promptly show up.

The notion of my father immediately conjures up childhood memories of brightly colored gobs of paint, the outer shells of which were hard with time, yet soft and maleable inside, waiting to create. His painting palette usually held the remnants of past works: that smudge of near-crimson flame that comprised the sun, the circle of azalea blue that formed the ocean. It all lay there, at his fingertips. And with a quick stroke of his brush, an expanse of possibilities suddenly appeared.

Particularly, as a child, I remember peering up and over my father's drawing board, where, usually, there lay the discards of some woodwork, an etch or two of a building designed, and often the skeleton of a new painting or drawing. Most were in fledgling form, though certainly some were closer to full existence than others. I must have spent hours upon hours staring--meticulously calculating and examining--these items.

My father has since given up painting and sculpting incessantly, having pursued more of a green-thumb creative approach. What to get him indeed ... I'm plotting. Yes, something special.

On an unrelated note, we're also excitedly plotting away for fall. Yes, fall!!! Summer is not yet here, but as soon as the end of this month, fall 2008 merchandise will slowly trickle in. We still have a few summer pieces coming in--namely, some playful Charlotte Ronson dresses and Mociun tanks. For next season, however, expect some of our favorites from this season and a few new names.

We'll post previews soon.

Mooka Kinney Nevele Jumper UPDATE

To all the gals who have diligently emailed us for weeks about the Mooka Kinney jumper, you should be glad to know that they are en route. We hope to have them up by the end of the week or next weekend. Thank you for your patience!

And, for those who don't already know, there was a last minute overhaul on the fabric choice. Goodbye, black flora ... hello, well, some other very cute print. We will post soon.

Bandon-by-the-Sea, Ore.

Bandon or Bandon-by-the-Sea is a sleepy fishing town off the coast of Oregon that sits on the mouth of the Coquille River, about 5 hours southwest of Portland. Every year, thousands of exec-types pour into the town to avail themselves of what I have been informed are the "best damn golf courses in the country." (In fact, when I was in Chicago last month, anytime I mentioned I lived in Oregon, the first thing people asked me was if I golfed in Bandon. Ummm. No.)

The first and last time we were in Bandon was about 6 years ago and by pure accident. We came across it as we returned from a roadtrip from southern California to Vancouver, British Columbia--the trip that galvanized our plans to move out of southern California and into the Pacific Northwest.

We had been driving south all day on I-5, determined to make it into San Francisco to meet Vila. We took one turn off the highway south of Eugene and found ourselves cast into the dark of night on a sinuous moutain road to where we knew not. I recall being in a half conscious daze, but still cognizant (and slightly terrified) of the fact that this single road was completely devoid of light and certainty. After driving for about an hour and a half and passing small towns on the way, we found ourselves about as west as we could go and in a town called Bandon. We stopped at the first little lodge that showed a vacancy and ended our journey for the day.

When we awoke in the morning, we gazed out of our window at the harbor below and chuckled at our luck. What a charming town. Alas, San Francisco (and home) beckoned, and, after a hurried breakfast in a local cafe, we went on our merry way. South. To reality.

He loves Bandon, too. He turned 13 this week!

Luggage

source: official site for The Darjeeling Limited

Wes Anderson films always leave me feeling wistful. I can't explain it, and notwithstanding a few friends' disdain for anything that is the product of Sophia Coppola or Wes Anderson, I shamelessly tell you now that I could watch and rewatch those films happily.

I finally watched The Darjeeling Limited. Actually, I watched it about 2 months ago, on a rainy Oregon day, with a nice cup of coffee, a handful of chocolate bon-bons, and a healthy appetite for some aesthetic indulgence. Oh, and a warm blanket. It was a perfect afternoon.

Naturally, I enjoyed it. As it just so happens, India is one of the top 5 places to visit on my immediate travel list, so my wanderlust responded immediately to the film's images. (I would have visited India last August, but a friend suggested that I not go in what is quite possibly the hottest month of the year. I obliged.)

Even moreso, I enjoyed the cameo of the dead father's monogram, initialed luggage. I wasn't so much impressed that they were specially-made Marc Jacobs for Vuitton--that is more Vila's luxurious taste than mine (I know you're reading this). I was, however, overwhelmingly taken by the idea of worn-in luggage, personalized, so perfectly weathered and particularly suited to one's identity.

Call me sentimental if you must.

This reminded me instantly of a vintage briefcase/attaché that my sister purchased for me last year in celebration of graduation. Weathered? Yes, perfectly, in a cognac-colored hue, rich and warm. The handles showed subtle signs of age, but they remained in tact and strong. Upon receipt, I unhooked the brass clasp and curiously peered inside, wondering what papers and important documents it once housed, what possible secrets it kept safe. I imagine the weight of those items must have been heavy. Yes, very important.

Alas, the briefcase presently sits in the trunk of my car. But someday, I promise you, I'll put it to good use ... maybe perhaps even etch an initial or two.

Coming across this picture also didn't help:

source: Facehunter