Wiksten Spring/Summer 2011

Jenny Gordy's newest collection is the definition of want. If I was a millionaire I'd buy a brownstone in Brooklyn that had a garden in the backyard and spend all day there wearing these clothes. (If I was a millionaire I would have lived a million different lives by now.)

Into Great Silence

This was a great movie, which reaffirmed my childhood desire to become a monk (not a nun. Monks have all the fun. Read The Name of the Rose).

Graduation party

With a party, the summer can truly begin. Okay, so it's not really summer, but it felt like it today. We had ice cream cake and played croquet in our backyard. The weather was perfect, and it was so nice to spend time with friends and family. I got to wear my new J. Crew dress and my new makeup. I'm really pleased with the makeup - it's extremely light, and I managed to find the perfect shade, which is called "ivory" on the package, but might be more accurately marketed as "Boo Radley."

Small heads

I almost brought these things home with me yesterday. Aren't they sweet? They're feral cats living in my neighborhood. I've named them the Small Heads, because they have ... really small heads. They are surprisingly friendly for cats that have lived outside all their lives (and I'm pretty sure they have - I think they're the kittens that were born last year).

I'm not sure what to do about these kitties. Should I have the cat rescue come and get them? They would probably make really nice pets. On the other hand, they seem like they're well-fed and healthy - maybe they would be happier staying in the wild? I don't know.

Sunburnt Country

I never thought I'd like anything having to do with sunburn, but I like these things from Megan Nielson's new spring collection. Via Libemarlene Vintage.

Pip

Now that college is over, and before my summer internship starts, I have turned to hawks to keep myself occupied (well, hawks and work). When I got home from school, I found that my parents have been watching the Hawk Cam on their computer every morning. A baby hawk hatched, which came to be named Pip - which happens to be one of our nicknames for Mateo de Poose. Yesterday morning I watched bird-Pip eat rat entrails. There's something just so amusing about watching this tiny, fluffy creature gobbling down rat intestines like spaghetti before taking a nap on the remaining half of a rat corpse. Maybe it just brings back fond memories of my childhood.

I also enjoy reading the commenters' attempts to anthropomorphize the hawks. Bobby is not a deadbeat father. He is a hawk. Violet doesn't resent doing most of the work looking after Pip. She has not read Betty Friedan. She is a hawk. It's nice to know that people expect men and women to participate equally in parenting, but these are not men and women; they are hawks. Maybe when they evolve into super-intelligent human-hawk hybrids we can talk about introducing them to feminism, but until then, remember that they are closer genetically to this than to you.

The Graduate.

I've been a college graduate for nearly ten hours and no one's mother has tried to seduce me yet. This isn't how I imagined life after college to be. Graduation, on the other hand, was great. The rain managed to hold off until after we got our diplomas, and the ceremony was wonderful.

J. Crew: June 2011

My favorite month; my favorite American catalog.