Style{in} Skirts: College...

So college started this past week! And while this was the look I was trying to emulate:

This is what's going through my mind:

 No, not anger. But a mix of excitement, thrill, nerves, and "oh my gosh, I cannot believe I already have this much homework due by yesterday."

I guess that looks a little bit like anger. Ha...

 

 Anyways... This was one of my faves this week. I'm totally not a "tuck-your-shirt-in" kinda gal, but I was trying something new.
And, I really like my fish necklace. Just sayin'..

Shirt: Old Navy // Vest: Thrift Store // Skirt: Gap // Shoes: Payless // Necklace: Antique/Junk Store

It would be really easy to be stressed out at this point, but I'm not. Classes, homework, new community,  a job, family, church involvement... all this is surely enough to give me a good excuse to freak out.

But I'm not.

It is only by His grace that I know any sort of peace right now.

 Because, honestly, there is no reason I should be peaceful right now.

Really, there's no reason to. The Lord is continually proving that He cares about these things, and will watch out for me. He knows what I need, including the time to do all these things.

(Hope ya'll have had a great couple of weeks... Labor Day Weekend is right around the corner!:)

Ushered In

There's no way those few minutes could have been captured by a lens
or recreated by the artistry of words.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
A, "you-had-to-be-there," thing.

You had to be there to sense the silent anticipation before the sun broke loose.
You had to be there to hear the birds and the left over frogs chirping their chorus of melodies.
You had to be there to see the way the sunlight turned the leaves from dark green to a yellowish shade as it peered curiously through them.
You had to be there to feel touched and caressed by the fingers of light, even before the source was visible.

It turned my hair golden.
It made my heart soften.
It caused the world to lighten.
It ushered in

Morning.

Vision Renewed

This past week or two has been challenging. Amongst starting college, family vacation, and working out work schedules, I am going through a major process of figuring out who exactly I am.

Without getting into all that, I also reached a breaking point Monday morning when I realized I hated myself; specifically in my appearance. Hated. Here I am, ready to step into this new leg of my life as a college gal, and I feel completely awful. I didn't feel ready any more; I wasn't excited; I didn't feel appealing at all, or at any level.

My wonderful mother took that Monday morning to help me get rid of lots of clothes that were encouraging this mindset, but what was really discouraging was when we were checking out these fashion bloggers that we've seen before, which had in the past been a source of fun inspiration to the two of us.
However, a few minutes into it, I looked at Mama, in exasperated frustration, and said, "All these people are either stick-skinny or they're mothers!"

And then it hit me: This is why I started fashion blogging in the first place.
It was because I was tired of not having girls that I could look to who knew how to pull colorful, conservative outfits together, and wasn't someone who was super skinny (because I'm not). And I KNOW that there have to be some girls out there who are like me, who are craving for someone to encourage them in this pursuit of femininity, someone who knows how frustrating it is at times, and who can be there to say, "You're not the only one!"

That's why I fashion blog.
Not because I'm the bee's knees.
Not because I'm super put together.
But because I like my look - or at least, I'm starting to -
and I want to let you know that you have the freedom to like yours, too.
Even if it doesn't look like the pretty girls on the Kohl's advertisements, or doesn't fit in the "cool" H&M category.

I don't have a body type that fits the trends. And I'm learning to love that, and see it as an opportunity to explore greater creativity.

I haven't had a fashion post since June. (Wow, this summer's gone fast!) But I had lost my vision for what this kind of blogging means.
Just letting ya'll know; it's back again:)

P.S. Picture taken by Mama;)

"Wooding It"

For the next week my family is "wooding" it.
Kinda.
We're in a camper.
But you get it.

We've been hiking, and reading, and driving a lot.

I like being with my family, and I like being outside, but when the two are put together?
One of my favorite combinations EVER.

It's great to have a family of 12 that can survive being put together in one RV for a whole week - including two 15-hour drives - without killing each other. It really isn't normal.

But then again... we're not normal.

 I'm gathering up all these little moments and putting them aside in a special mental box that I can go through one day when I'm lonely and missing them, after I'm off and married somewhere and going on family adventures looks a bit different. Because I know that one day I'm going to wish for this back. I'm going to wish for camping trips with Dad's traditional egg mcmuffins. I'm going to miss camping trips with a full 15-passenger and sleepy kiddos. I'm going to miss seeing more parks and dirty bathrooms than historic sites.

So I'm scoopin' them all up, and packing them away. I'll bring them with me when I move out.

But Our Eyes Disagree

Allie is positively one of the most beautiful gals I know.

We spent a day in Ghent; her, the camera and I. And as we went home and went through the pictures we took, the conversation that ensued should not be as common as it is amongst girls:
I was in awe of her gorgeous-ness, while she critiqued her every pose.
I complained about which angles made me look fat, while she raved about how beautiful I was.

It's such a shame that this is the case. We feel completely inadequate to love ourselves.

You'll probably look at these pictures and probably agree with me : she's beautiful.
You'll probably also agree with her: I'm amazing.

But our own eyes disagree.

I think I'm sick of beautiful girls who are screaming hate at themselves.
And also realizing I'm one of them.
I'm sick of looking at the mirror and shrugging, "Good enough," as I walk away.
I'm sick of seeing girls walking with their head down and the shoulders forward as if their insecurity were a weight around their necks.
I'm sick of these young women feeling like they have to fit into some impossible mold just to be worth anything or get any man's attention.

I feel helpless in the face of this beast, Insecurity.
I know the God that's bigger than him,
and I know I don't have to stoop to his level, and play his games.
I am not a captive.
But I'm not completely sure how to be free.