The perfect coat.

“We always recommend wool.”

I bought a coat at the thrift store today.

This may not seem particularly interesting.  Thrift stores are awesome, after all.  I’ve shopped at thrift stores plenty – bought all kinds of home stuff, craft supplies, books.  But with the exception of a very cool t-shirt, I’ve never bought any clothing that wasn’t for a project or a costume.

Until today.

Here in February, when there are more cold days than not, I’d become aware of the fact I didn’t have a grown-up coat, something nice that I could wear to dinner or out for the evening.  I have a warm coat, and really, that’s the most important thing.  But sometimes I wished I had a nice coat.

The thing is, I’ve embarked on the goal of shopping ethically (and really, shopping as little as possible).  And while there are lots of beautiful and ethical coats out there in the world, it seemed rather wasteful to spend a couple hundred dollars on a special occasion coat when I had a perfectly serviceable coat to keep me from freezing.

I was at the thrift store this morning, looking for some textiles to repurpose into a new rug for the bathroom. I walked by a rack of coats and while inspecting a wool blazer for how much fabric I could scavenge from it, I noticed a beautiful cream-colored wool coat.  It was amazing – wool cashmere and angora, vintage buttons, well made, neat stitching and flawless lining.  And y’all.  It was $10.  Ten bucks for a coat that is made beautifully.  And can you get any more ethical and sustainable than a thrift store coat?   I can’t wait to wear it.  It’s elegant and lovely and so much nicer than anything I could have walked into a store and bought.

So, I know.  I’m late to the thrift store game.  But I’ll definitely be back.  Better late than never, right?


Begin again.


I’ve been feeling the need to write lately, feeling like I have words that I need to say.  And so I keep starting this blog again and again, and then deleting it.  There are so many things I want to write about, but I feel like I need to pick a niche.  Isn’t that what bloggers do now?  I mean, it’s not 2004 – no one just journals anymore, do they?  It’s all fashion or mommy-blogging or food or DIY or health/fitness.

 But I’m no expert in any field.  I just want to write.  So, I ask myself, “Why? Why do you want to write?”

Mostly, I think I just want connection.  Life is hard.  Being a mom (or not-thin or a woman or over-35 or without a career or all the other things you could fill in that leave you feeling unheard/unseen/unimportant/powerless) is a lonely road, which still surprises me four years in, given how very many mothers there are out there.  No one’s motherhood looks like anyone else’s, after all – we all bring our unique strengths and our devastating failures to play out on the stages of our families.  And living as this lonely mom, I sometimes start to believe that’s all I really am.  Just a mother.  

But I’m not.  

A long time ago, I wrote a blog for a year or so that helped me recover from my disordered eating and exercise addiction; it truly changed my life, that act of putting my struggles into words and sending them out into the ether.  But even more than the writing, what healed me most were the comments I got from readers, women who were struggling with the same thing, women who told me my honesty about my hurt and my healing made them feel stronger.  It made me feel like I’d helped.

And that changed something in me. There are a million and one reasons to blog, but for me, my reason is this:

Above all else, I want someone who is also walking a lonely path to know they’re not truly alone.

So, I’m going to write about whatever crosses my path here; no niche-blogging, no grand plan.  I’m just going to write the words I need to say


photo courtesy of Unsplash