
I got a new mirror, and it’s full-length, so I’ve embarked on a really retro-feeling mirror photo spree as if I didn’t know there was already an entire hashtag dedicated to this sort of behavior. I mean, wtf not? Being your own photographer requires a little bit of a regression. Is it deplorable? Maybe. Do I need a record of this blur of a month, though? Yes. Above—fueling up with a Pacifico before attending a political rally, for whom I cannot reveal. Let’s keep it a-political here, guys.
BUT… this is a Karen Zambos dress which I’m pretty sure is the first thing I ever ordered from Shopbop? Like, a relic, right? I popped it over a t-shirt and put on my favorite Austin Powers boots and stomped around in the crowd unable to see over anyone’s heads. But I got a lot of compliments. (Priorities.)
If my energy were a pie, every slice has gone toward work or going out every single night since September 1. I’m not sure how I’m still standing up or even typing, but I am. It’s a good pie. Good job, pie. Above, documenting Eli noting that the clock had just hit 5PM. But, Eli, we work on PST. Bite down.

Pre-dinner with a pal—Mexican food. I got my 500th LNA t-shirt (pictured) and it seemed like the last viable night to wear shorts. I had two margaritas then backed up onto a curb. Nothing to see here, guys.
Now the nights are starting to run together. This was a pretty rad Small Black concert. I’ve been listening to them for years, with a distinct memory of playing side B of their Vinyl Record “Limits of Desire” repeatedly while putting together a mediocre puzzle showing something like 200 brands of beer. I was like 10 feet from them, which was surreal.
Agree? Disagree? Let’s agree it’s a phenomenal piece of bathroom wall art, regardless.
[Joie Pascaline B mini dress + a Tito’s vodka tonic.]
Got away for a night in DC at the Mandarin Oriental, and spent a couple hours in the spa where they opened up the robot panel on my chest and rewired a few things, then upgraded my operating system. Just in time, I say! Popped out to Mintwood Place that night and had steak tartar. I’ve had some form of tartar 4-5 times in the last month, the key being it’s small and so is my appetite. Morbidly hoping that doesn’t change too soon.
[Joie dress + JCrew belt with (not pictured) Rag & Bone Newbury booties.]
The next night, in another Joie dress, and another hotel—the Quirk Hotel here in Richmond! It just opened and it’s divine. Joie and hotels—when your axis is behaving like a wet noodle, you gotta go with what works.
That’s all for now. Well, all I’m feeling entitled to reveal, that is. Boop!
Someone tell me a story.
-C.

So jealous. I used to bask in the glory of a good full-mirror outfit selfie, but my cat had a different idea and knocked over and broke mine while I was out of the house.