radiant faces.

the blogs that i read are lying to me, they tell me that it's fall. 

san diego, hoboken, new york city, savannah, milan. wake up you sleepers, it's fall. 

but it won't last, next week, when the weather is back to 90 and humid, we'll shake our fists at the ocean and curse the very things of summer that we once crooned about last april. 

call me an optimistic pessimist. a bitter hopeful. a jaded believer. but i want it. 

i want fall. i want scarves, boots, jeans, socks, and my russian navy nail polish. i'm jonesing to read vogue on the crunchy leaves in the international garden and to spend my rainy days sharing a plate of pita and hummus with a friend at the gallery espresso. 

i've even created my new playlists. fact: the avett brothers pandora is magical and will make you want to dance around the kitchen in your new wool socks from aerie (wait, you don't have a pair?)

that one golden fall afternoon. 

so consider this post a teaser, because we'll be back to fedoras, lemonade, weezer, and keds before you know it. and watch this video, because i'm in it. 

breakfast for dinner.

okay, okay. i know what you're thinking, two music posts in a row? i'm not slacking, promise. 
but i am enjoying myself immensely, and it just goes to show what a difference a little time (in this case, a week) makes. 


one day this week, a few friends and i were talking about christian contemporary music. i was jumping out of my skin, i finally found college friends that liked talking about God on a daily basis. the feeling is incredible. the song "more" by matthew west was mentioned and i looked it up instantly (thank you, steve jobs, you're the best) . 


listening to the song for the first time in years, the summer and even last week made sense. cody deese, the speaker for fbcw's high school summer camp, asked me one night, "why are you settling for less." 


which is a funny story, i suppose. when i finally let go of one person (who didn't even want me to begin with), i gained a friendship with seven others. i just had to trust that God loved me more. 


and here i am, off to have the "breakfast for dinner" party to celebrate the fact that savannah is saved from irene. (sorry about that, outer banks, north carolina). 

i met up with the king.

hello there!


today marks the end of my first week of class, which has been wonderful. i'm lucky this year, all of my classes are incredibly interesting with professors who are characters for sure. 


so, do you ever hear a song that captures your soul? that is so beautiful you're certain that your heart will surely break? no? okay, that may just be me. it's cool. 

well, this is one of those songs. i heard it from a new friend and i was captivated. i have cruised for miles upon miles on my bike while listening to this song on repeat. because, you know, it's kind of the story of my life. 


i usually like to keep new music a secret for awhile, you know, because it's special. but not this time, so consider yourself lucky. 


the band of sisters is called "first aid kit" and the song is "i met up with the king."


listen to it. now. 

watch the throne.

this blog is going through growing pains.

which really means that i'm not quite sure what i want to post. only essays i wrote for english class sounds constricting and incredibly boring, but i'm not willing to go the internet roundup route (which is totally cool, cup of jo), but the only interesting things i find on the internet are through someone else's blog.

with that being said, today is an experiment. an interview. and who would be an incredible idea for a guinea pig-esque interview on my blog? my younger brother, simms, of course.

simms met me in the kitchen a little past four, he was fresh off the bus, and home from his first day of school. i asked him if i could interview him for my blog, he poured a glass of water and said sure. with a flip of his hair, we sat down at the kitchen bar and got down to business.

e: i should ask you about your secret to getting your golden tan or a recap of what you did this summer, but i want to talk about your current projects, how was the first day of school?

s: it sucked.

e: what was on your list for back to school shopping?

s: axe body spray and classy mechanical pencils.

e: if you were to label yourself, what middle school cliche would you find yourself relating to the most?

s: what?

e: allow me to clarify, who do you sit with at lunch?

s: oh. i'm like a liger in real life. just call me the nerdlete [nerd/athlete].

e: what school event are you most looking forward to? The football games, the homecoming dance, olympics week?

s: the weekend.

e: how would you describe your style?

s: sportswear. nike basketball shorts, a tee shirt, and my sperrys.

e: it sounds like you dress according to what your interests are, what game is your favorite?

s: i like to play the yellow car game. when i see a yellow car, i punch someone.

e: you're too young to shave, but do you have any other beauty rituals to prepare yourself for the next day?

s: i listen to john mayer before i go to sleep.

simms was then called to go outside and play tennis with his older brother. he shouted a "see ya" as he grabbed his racquet and ran out the door. 

i should probably post a john mayer song so i could stay true to the post, but i found this song recently, a collaboration of kanye and jay-z, and i decided to add it instead. it mixes my favorites, the classics and jay-z. yeah, i got my swagger back. "they didn't recognize me because i pulled up in my other benz."

literally crazy.

"literally crazy for you" is a song for the summer, it's even performed by the band "long walks on the beach." yeah. so replace "rolling in the deep" (which is most definitely not a summer song) and listen to this several thousand times instead. 

happy bastille day.

it's not really. but holidays are always welcome. 


remember this post? well, here i am to tell you a story all about how i, a rather dramatic, witty, clever, american girl who sings along with beyonce in the car, became a french girl sincere sensation overnight. okay, that's a lie, it took an entire summer (hence the dramatic), and it might not have actually happened at all, but if you squint your eyes, tilt your head, and listen to quelqu'un m'a dit by carla bruni, you may be able to humor me in the slightest. 


so here it is, folks. 


ella greer, a french girl in words and pictures. 


i followed this blog about a blogger in paris for the year. 


i read this vogue article by gully wells (with hopes to have the book sitting on my coffee table someday)

and then i read an allure article about how french women choose their fragrance and bought this perfume pencil. 

silk road caravan

i found this version of the nautical stripe

both from j.crew

i listened to classical music and read hemingway

i bought lavender bouquets and old world maps

both from the paris market, a magical emporium in savannah

i (er, my mother) bought a fantastic sun hat.

i haunted a booth in a coffee shop to prepare projects, watch woody allen movies, and write.

french(!) vanilla latte, extra vanilla, at copper coin coffee

i went out of doors, seeking adventures

i discovered art. 

my lady gaga poster, my pride&joy. 

i finally bought a big girl bag. 

i fell madly in love. 

marcella.

and there you have it. 

i became a french girl by only visiting three states. who knows, maybe next summer the mountains of peru will call for my heart. and if any magazine editors are reading this, i'm foot loose and fancy free, so feel free to hire me for all of your travel pieces. 

and you should listen to this song, because even though it isn't french, i think french women like beyonce too. and i secretly fantasize about singing it at open mic night at copper coin coffee, because i'm a poser. 

artifacts II.

in case anyone was wondering,this beauty is hanging in my room right now. certainly the find of the summer, this poster is pants. she and gramma toots will most definitely become best of friends. i'm sure the novogratz will agree. 




and you should listen to this song and go to a concert. (open mic nights don't count, woodstock kiddos.)