Guilty Pleasures

Guilty pleasures...we all have them. Those little things that bring you extreme, blissed-out moments of pure joy, but shouldn't. That song on your iPod that you hope no one ever finds. You know, the one you listen to alone, late at night, with the covers pulled over your head so nobody hears. Or that really cheesy movie you secretly watch every single time it's on, reciting it back to the tv, line for line. Perhaps it's those disgustingly delicious pink snowball cakes, or Zac Efron.

I used to keep these little things my dirty secret. But ever since I heard Joe Strummer, purveyor of cool, leader of The Only Band That Matters, proclaim (a shared and) unabashed love for ABBA, I've been letting them all be known. I mean, if the man who wrote London Calling can answer yes when Agnetha, Bjorn, Benny and Anni-Frid ask him to "Take a Chance on Me," then surely I can let slip that I listen to the theme from Xanadu when I run. And I know all the words. And, despite my vegetarian ways, I like bacon. And perhaps cheese steak egg rolls. I take great pleasure in eating them both. "Steel Magnolias," despite the sap and melodrama and overacting, is one of my favorite movies. I even named my first car Shelby. I also love Dolly Parton. And Cher. And I'm ok with that.

But my biggest, juiciest Guilty Pleasure, the one that trumps all others, is Gossip Girl. Yes, it is bad. Deliciously bad. And sooo horribly good. It is a little beginning of the week treat, best enjoyed after a grueling 75 minute yoga/pilates class and a sandwich or two, with the phone and computer turned off. I savor every second of it. I have missed my little Monday night ritual (what would I do without Anthony Bourdain filling in during the summer!!??), and am eagerly awaiting the season premier tonight. Will Blair have another dream in which she is a character from an Audrey Hepburn movie? Will Rachel Zoe have another cameo that results in yet another bowl of chocolate sauce being dumped on her head? And what is up with Serena's wack-a-doo aunt and the faux cousin? I need to know!!!

How about you, Dearests? What are your Guilty Pleasures? Confess them here...you'll feel worlds better once they're out!

xo

Baby Blue



Baby Boy Blue by Kiki and Polly


In a few short weeks (and the sure money's on it being a few weeks shorter than the doctor's suggesting ;), I will have a brand new, bouncing baby nephew. A tiny baby brother for The Boy. Exciting, no? The Bee family certainly thinks so.

This weekend we will be feting my sister and this little boy to be. And while this little shower is certainly no surprise (very pregnant ladies are apparently not very fond of being surprised), all of the ingredients that are going into making it lovely are. So you'll have to wait until after the weekend for me to share the goods.

But what I can share, between cutting out...something, and baking....something else, are a few of the things the Bee sisters have spotted on Etsy. Sweet things, for sweet boys.

I Love You Teether  by Little Sappling Toys

Handmade Doll  by Timo Handmade



Organic Hemp Shoes  by Bobka Baby



Dinosaur Onesies  by Pawling

Mister Numbers  by Sugar Fresh

Vintage Rocking Horse  by ethanollie

Wishing you a lovely weekend, my dears. And should you encounter any showers, I hope they're happy ones ;)

xo

Tiny Dancer

Edgar Degas- Two Dancers On Stage



 Do you have a bucket list? I have a sort of free-form mental list I carry around. Things I'd like to do and see, places I'd like to visit. For my birthday this year, I was able to scratch off one of those things: a trip to the ballet. A real, proper, grown-up ballet. Swan Lake, to be exact.

Edgar Degas- Dance Class At The Opera

Edgar Degas- Ballerinas In Pink

I suppose there's that tiny part of me that still dreams of growing up and being a ballerina, spending my days twirling in a tutu. But there's a much bigger part of me, the part that practices yoga and pilates and is happy just to be able hold a half-moon pose for three solid breaths, that thinks perhaps that wouldn't be so much fun. That part of me saw the tight muscles, the dripping sweat, the strength and training required to make it all look so easy, so effortless.

Edgar Degas- La Classe de Danse

I spent the entire performance going back and forth between those two parts of myself. In the end, the little girl part won, and I spent a few hours on a lovely Saturday night watching the ballerinas, in their pink toe shoes, tiaras and tutus, twirling around effortlessly.

Here's to realizing childhood dreams, my sweets.

xo



Edgar Degas- L'Etoile