{savannah}

Back from the weekend, still recovering from the absolutely insane heat 'n' humidity and mosquito bites. It was worth it though. Two days with two of my favorites in a beautiful little Southern town.

Agenda for Saturday:

Drive to Savannah (this involves mostly sleeping in the backseat on my part)

Walk around the squares, take way too many pictures, get heatstroke (not actually).

Me & Emilia (photo by Emily)
Have lunch, which consisted of the best fried green tomato sandwiches ever, at B. Matthews. That might sound odd if you've never lived in the South, but it's actually really good. Take my word for it.

Go to Tybee Beach. This was kind of a shock to all of us, we've been spoiled by uncrowded beaches. Our solution to the issue of loud people playing football all over the beach was to lie down in the shallow part of the tide and sleep. 

Dinner was at Jazz'd, a blues-jazz live music tapas bar. Definitely a good call. The band there that night played blues (they played Ain't No Sunshine!) and the restaurant had a really fun atmosophere. And the food was amazing. Proscuitto wrapped asparagus, chorizo empanadas, stuffed mushrooms, southern crab cakes, hummus, tapas lasagna, leek fritattas, and a black bean soup for my vegetarian Emilia.

{food photos credits to emily}

Strolling around City Market at night, getting matching necklaces because we're still fifth graders at heart, running into people from high school randomly, hotel sleepover with so. many. pillows.

Sunday Agenda:

Up early morning the next day to go tourist it up at Ft. Pulaski and the wildlife reserve (which is where the bulk of the mosquito tragedies happened).

Lunch at a burger joint with a menu more complex than NASA shuttle manuals.

Shopping and walking through Broughton St. 

And the absolute coolest store in the world: The Paris Market. 

Anything vintage, Parisian, or both can be found here. Its partly an antiques store, but not everything is ridiculously expensive. They play forties music and wrap up your purchases like presents. 

{photo creds to Emily}

Basically, this is want my house to look like. I could live in here. And I exercised a lot of self control by not buying lots of fabulous things. Just these. 

They had a trunk-ful of "vintage jewelry grab-bags". Just a little bag full of odds and ends of antique jewelry. So obviously I got one.
Also, a map of Paris. Kate, Mary, hopefully you like this since its going on our wall next year. 
After that, I picked up some pralines as souvenirs for the family back home and headed off. 

So, if you find yourself in Savannah, enjoy the restaurants and quiet streets, brace yourself for the humidity, try some sweet tea, and take lots of pictures.

Listening to (partially inspired by The Paris Market):

Quelqu'un M'a Dit--Carla Bruni

Le Temps Perdu--Carla Bruni

Ain't No Sunshine--Bill Withers

I'll Be Seeing You--Billie Holiday

naturally, children of the nineties were the original hipsters.

working on my father's day present sent me through dozens of albums of old family photos. a common theme emerged: my sister and I saying things like "oh, that's cute!" or "where did that go?", sometimes about my mom's clothes but more often than not about our own. which brings me to my point: if you were born in the late eighties or early nineties, being a hipster is simply a throwback to your childhood. (Hipster characteristics drawn largely from the blog www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com)

Being into vintage stuff (buttons, in this case).

Being up on current issues (extra points for reading foreign newspapers).

Ironic shades.

Taking posed-to-look-candid shots of someone looking off into the sunset.

Playing obscure instruments. ("It's a Cool Whip drum kit, you probably haven't heard of it.")

Ugly sweaters.

Styled-to-look-thrift-shop outfits.

Fixed gear bicycles. 

and finally....

Planking.

Typography

My sister recently bought and restored this typewriter:

 Its incredible. Vintage 1920's Underwood. So much fun to type on.

So, Wheaton people, if you send me letters, care packages, post cards from exotic locales, there's an excellent chance you will receive a badly typewritten letter back!

from travelthisworld.tumblr.com

Whenever its gray and drizzly, I make hot chocolate for breakfast. In Normandy we would go to this restaurant across the bridge from our hotel that looked out over the beaches. Everything was quiet there and we would just sit and order cocoa in croissants in very broken French. Things are just cooler abroad. They brought you steamed milk, dark cocoa, and sugar and then you made your own hot chocolate exactly the way you wanted it.

I aspire to someday live in Europe so I can do this all the time. 

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