forgive, but never forget

June 22, 2017










How many people in my life are just waiting for me to fail?
How many people never send a text just to see how I’m doing?
How many people think it’s okay to use me intentionally, even unintentionally over and over again?
How many people celebrate me when I succeed but are nowhere to be found when I am struggling?
How many people in my life smile in my face, like my photos, and send me heart shaped DMs but talk hella shit IRL?
How many exist in yours?

The answer is “too many.” One is too many.

But that’s okay.
I’ll send love in every direction, even if it takes a sharp right and hits my hater right in the forehead.  I’ll admit it, they don’t deserve it. But I won’t lower myself to their negative 6 feet standards. Keep digging their own grave because no energy exerted ever goes wasted (positive or negative). I’ll stay above ground, thank you very much. I’ll keep on moving forward. I won’t even put enough effort to remove them from my presence. They’ll see their way out, like they always do.  I won’t internalize it. I can’t. I’ll project it back to you, right where it deserves to be. And I’ll remember every little thing. And I’ll forgive them. Let it go. But I’ll never forget. I’ll never forget each doubt. Each attempt to hit my ego. To use me. To break me. To foul my name. Wolves are pretty, but they’re still wolves.

- never forget




Visuals by Erika 
Wearing -


How many people in my life are just waiting for me to fail? How many people never send a text just to see how I’m doing? How many people think it’s okay to use me intentionally, even unintentionally over and over again? How many people celebrate me when I succeed but are nowhere to be found when I am struggling? How many people in my life smile in my face, like my photos, and send me heart shaped DMs but talk hella shit IRL? How many exist in y…









How many people in my life are just waiting for me to fail?
How many people never send a text just to see how I’m doing?
How many people think it’s okay to use me intentionally, even unintentionally over and over again?
How many people celebrate me when I succeed but are nowhere to be found when I am struggling?
How many people in my life smile in my face, like my photos, and send me heart shaped DMs but talk hella shit IRL?
How many exist in yours?

The answer is “too many.” One is too many.

But that’s okay.
I’ll send love in every direction, even if it takes a sharp right and hits my hater right in the forehead.  I’ll admit it, they don’t deserve it. But I won’t lower myself to their negative 6 feet standards. Keep digging their own grave because no energy exerted ever goes wasted (positive or negative). I’ll stay above ground, thank you very much. I’ll keep on moving forward. I won’t even put enough effort to remove them from my presence. They’ll see their way out, like they always do.  I won’t internalize it. I can’t. I’ll project it back to you, right where it deserves to be. And I’ll remember every little thing. And I’ll forgive them. Let it go. But I’ll never forget. I’ll never forget each doubt. Each attempt to hit my ego. To use me. To break me. To foul my name. Wolves are pretty, but they’re still wolves.

- never forget




Visuals by Erika 
Wearing -


love letter to chicago

June 20, 2017



I could sit here and tell you what to do, where to go, what to eat, or where to shop in Chicago. But this post will not do that. I will not be doing that.

Because that’s not how I operated in Chicago. I’m as type A as it gets. I have itineraries down like it’s my job. Lists made like it’s the only thing I’m good at. I have dinner plans reserved. Tickets booked. Museums googled, tracked, and virtually stalked. I am THAT person. But I was tired. Traveling every month is fun if it’s not taken so seriously, which is exactly what I have been doing. Chicago was my break.

We did whatever we felt like doing in each and every moment. Relying solely on one another and the question, “What do you wanna do now?” The first night we landed, we walked into a speakeasy and took Malort shots. And instantly regretted it. We ordered Chinese food and had it delivered to Maria's Packaged Goods and Community Bar. And then shared it with everyone around us including the bartender. I asked the Korean bar-owner to adopt me, which she followed up with, “Do you have a mother?” We wore zero makeup for most of the trip. 40% because we didn’t give a shit. 60% because it would probably melt off anyway in the heat wave anyway. And we almost died 5 times in Chicago. Twice in an uber. Three times on a bike. Because we thought that biking on major streets in 90 degrees weather would be a really good idea. It was. For the amount of food we consumed. It is also probably the only vacation I ever LOST weight in. We found pleasant and life-shattering surprises at Tanta in their Peruvian fusion. Like their steak sushi (Yes, I said sushi). We found comfort and salvage at Quartino Ristorante at 9:30pm. And were just as amused with their bathroom soap as their food. And we did what we had to at Giordano’s and decided that we weren’t deep dish people. At all. We went to the tippy top of a hotel disguised as an athletic oasis and saw the sun set over the Millennium Park. Peeping the very tiny Bean over the edge of the roof, I chugged my rose while she threw down her popsicle just so we can run down to get a sight of it in person. And boy, did it meet all the hype our past Tinder dates couldn’t. It warped the skyline, the buildings, the people, into better versions of each. We sat on ferries and laughed at bad jokes just to get some 411 on the best architecture in the world. And had face filled with bridge dirt as souvenirs. We saw Takashi Murakami’s cynical heart all over his work. And fell in love with him even more. And we took sad attempts of naps every day. In fact, we watched Master Of None, season 2 instead. Oh, and I left my phone in an uber. But he came back 5 minutes later with my phone held in the fingers of his newest passenger dangling right out the window. It was awesome.



And my friend? Let’s just say we sat on a rolling luggage cart at an abandoned airport at 2:30am together on the last night. Being up for almost 24 hours and counting. And we cuddled. So yeah, I love her.

So if not Chicago but hopefully, it will be Chicago, I insist that you take a little faith in the possibilities around you. And don’t plan. Don’t worry. Just do whatever the fuck you want. I certainly enjoyed it.

Visuals by me.
June 20, 2017
I could sit here and tell you what to do, where to go, what to eat, or where to shop in Chicago. But this post will not do that. I will not be doing that. Because that’s not how I operated in Chicago. I’m as type A as it gets. I have itineraries down like it’s my job. Lists made like it’s the only thing I’m good at. I have dinner plans reserved. Tickets booked. Museums googled, tracked, and virtually stalked. I am THAT person. But I was tired. …


I could sit here and tell you what to do, where to go, what to eat, or where to shop in Chicago. But this post will not do that. I will not be doing that.

Because that’s not how I operated in Chicago. I’m as type A as it gets. I have itineraries down like it’s my job. Lists made like it’s the only thing I’m good at. I have dinner plans reserved. Tickets booked. Museums googled, tracked, and virtually stalked. I am THAT person. But I was tired. Traveling every month is fun if it’s not taken so seriously, which is exactly what I have been doing. Chicago was my break.

We did whatever we felt like doing in each and every moment. Relying solely on one another and the question, “What do you wanna do now?” The first night we landed, we walked into a speakeasy and took Malort shots. And instantly regretted it. We ordered Chinese food and had it delivered to Maria's Packaged Goods and Community Bar. And then shared it with everyone around us including the bartender. I asked the Korean bar-owner to adopt me, which she followed up with, “Do you have a mother?” We wore zero makeup for most of the trip. 40% because we didn’t give a shit. 60% because it would probably melt off anyway in the heat wave anyway. And we almost died 5 times in Chicago. Twice in an uber. Three times on a bike. Because we thought that biking on major streets in 90 degrees weather would be a really good idea. It was. For the amount of food we consumed. It is also probably the only vacation I ever LOST weight in. We found pleasant and life-shattering surprises at Tanta in their Peruvian fusion. Like their steak sushi (Yes, I said sushi). We found comfort and salvage at Quartino Ristorante at 9:30pm. And were just as amused with their bathroom soap as their food. And we did what we had to at Giordano’s and decided that we weren’t deep dish people. At all. We went to the tippy top of a hotel disguised as an athletic oasis and saw the sun set over the Millennium Park. Peeping the very tiny Bean over the edge of the roof, I chugged my rose while she threw down her popsicle just so we can run down to get a sight of it in person. And boy, did it meet all the hype our past Tinder dates couldn’t. It warped the skyline, the buildings, the people, into better versions of each. We sat on ferries and laughed at bad jokes just to get some 411 on the best architecture in the world. And had face filled with bridge dirt as souvenirs. We saw Takashi Murakami’s cynical heart all over his work. And fell in love with him even more. And we took sad attempts of naps every day. In fact, we watched Master Of None, season 2 instead. Oh, and I left my phone in an uber. But he came back 5 minutes later with my phone held in the fingers of his newest passenger dangling right out the window. It was awesome.



And my friend? Let’s just say we sat on a rolling luggage cart at an abandoned airport at 2:30am together on the last night. Being up for almost 24 hours and counting. And we cuddled. So yeah, I love her.

So if not Chicago but hopefully, it will be Chicago, I insist that you take a little faith in the possibilities around you. And don’t plan. Don’t worry. Just do whatever the fuck you want. I certainly enjoyed it.

Visuals by me.

can't simplify shit

June 14, 2017







I have worked tirelessly to simplify my life. While my life has worked effortlessly to complicate my life. When all I want is a defining line between black and white or even work and play, I chose blogging as a career which really means life, play, and work becomes one big ol’ fucked up smudgy situation. Or friends. Friends seem like, logically, it can be simple. And to no one’s surprise, it’s not. Friends come and go. Friends do things you never thought they would. Good or bad. Or terrible. And style, oh style. It would be so easy to define everyone’s style. To put everyone in their own style genre, like a movie. "Oh, Lynn is rated N17 because she wears sports bras as tops" And to some, they can. But I can’t. Can you? I am no where near a one style description, not even close. Sometimes I feel my best in a simple slip dress and a pair of sandals (minimalist) and sometimes I feel like myself in sweats and a pair of Pumas (streetwear). And politics. Let’s not even go there. Relationships? Well sometimes I’m Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. Most times, I’m Zooey Deschanel at life. And then there’s the Sandra Bullock in The Proposal (awkward af but a boss ass bitch from Canada). The best people come from Canada.

But it’s necessary, right? To set some loose categories. And compartmentalize your (my) life. Simplify and reduce things in your life that does not matter to create bigger storage capabilities for things and those that do matter. God, is life like an episode of HGTV?



Visuals by Travis 



June 14, 2017
I have worked tirelessly to simplify my life. While my life has worked effortlessly to complicate my life. When all I want is a defining line between black and white or even work and play, I chose blogging as a career which really means life, play, and work becomes one big ol’ fucked up smudgy situation. Or friends. Friends seem like, logically, it can be simple. And to no one’s surprise, it’s not. Friends come and go. Friends do things you nev…






I have worked tirelessly to simplify my life. While my life has worked effortlessly to complicate my life. When all I want is a defining line between black and white or even work and play, I chose blogging as a career which really means life, play, and work becomes one big ol’ fucked up smudgy situation. Or friends. Friends seem like, logically, it can be simple. And to no one’s surprise, it’s not. Friends come and go. Friends do things you never thought they would. Good or bad. Or terrible. And style, oh style. It would be so easy to define everyone’s style. To put everyone in their own style genre, like a movie. "Oh, Lynn is rated N17 because she wears sports bras as tops" And to some, they can. But I can’t. Can you? I am no where near a one style description, not even close. Sometimes I feel my best in a simple slip dress and a pair of sandals (minimalist) and sometimes I feel like myself in sweats and a pair of Pumas (streetwear). And politics. Let’s not even go there. Relationships? Well sometimes I’m Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. Most times, I’m Zooey Deschanel at life. And then there’s the Sandra Bullock in The Proposal (awkward af but a boss ass bitch from Canada). The best people come from Canada.

But it’s necessary, right? To set some loose categories. And compartmentalize your (my) life. Simplify and reduce things in your life that does not matter to create bigger storage capabilities for things and those that do matter. God, is life like an episode of HGTV?



Visuals by Travis 



get the perfect brows

June 12, 2017

neckbreakinstyle.com

Here are 7 Brow tips that I live by to get that compliment like "Damn girl, your brows are on fleek!" even if I hate the word 'fleek'.
1. Find your brow savior.
Listen, anything good begins with a stellar foundation. Brows are no exceptions. So, it really begins with the person you trust more than your barista and even more than your work husband—your browsologist. My fairy brow artist is Hibba. I’ve had these brows for 25 years and I don’t think I knew their potential until I went to Hibba Beauty. I am so serious. She has three locations and she trains her staff with the rigorous artistry and talent that she possesses. I absolutely love her.
Now onto the makeup:
2. Clearly line the bottom
Follow the arch on the bottom and create a smooth line. This is the darkest line. People choose usually choose pencil for Step 2 and 3. I like using a brow jar and a brush. If you want that nice fade on the outside (closest to your nose), start a centimeter inside the brow. You can add a little faint color here later to create that fade effect.
3. Line the top of the brow
Gently line the top. Not too heavy. And connect the line of the brows to create a nice sharp point at the end of your brows (towards your ears).
4. Fill it in.
I start from the bottom of the brows and work my way up and end of brows (towards my ears) to the other end (towards my nose). I like the gradients of a brow look.
5. Brush it out.
Get your brush on, girl. Really comb it for a more natural look. Or just a little bit of brushing for a moe dramatic look.
6. Conceal to pop.
Use a concealer to outline the top of the brows to clean it all up. You may also do the same to the bottom or use a highlighter to really make it pop.
7. Waterproof it, JUST IN CASE!
You never know when you find yourself in a sweaty situation when you can feel your brows melting off. Or when you feel the need to dive into someone’s pool with a full face of makeup on. Don’t take the chance. Just use a waterproof brow gel to lock that baby in. 
Visuals by Thaya  



June 12, 2017
Here are 7 Brow tips that I live by to get that compliment like "Damn girl, your brows are on fleek!" even if I hate the word 'fleek'. 1. Find your brow savior. Listen, anything good begins with a stellar foundation. Brows are no exceptions. So, it really begins with the person you trust more than your barista and even more than your work husband—your browsologist. My fairy brow artist is Hibba . I’ve had these brows for 25 yea…
neckbreakinstyle.com

Here are 7 Brow tips that I live by to get that compliment like "Damn girl, your brows are on fleek!" even if I hate the word 'fleek'.
1. Find your brow savior.
Listen, anything good begins with a stellar foundation. Brows are no exceptions. So, it really begins with the person you trust more than your barista and even more than your work husband—your browsologist. My fairy brow artist is Hibba. I’ve had these brows for 25 years and I don’t think I knew their potential until I went to Hibba Beauty. I am so serious. She has three locations and she trains her staff with the rigorous artistry and talent that she possesses. I absolutely love her.
Now onto the makeup:
2. Clearly line the bottom
Follow the arch on the bottom and create a smooth line. This is the darkest line. People choose usually choose pencil for Step 2 and 3. I like using a brow jar and a brush. If you want that nice fade on the outside (closest to your nose), start a centimeter inside the brow. You can add a little faint color here later to create that fade effect.
3. Line the top of the brow
Gently line the top. Not too heavy. And connect the line of the brows to create a nice sharp point at the end of your brows (towards your ears).
4. Fill it in.
I start from the bottom of the brows and work my way up and end of brows (towards my ears) to the other end (towards my nose). I like the gradients of a brow look.
5. Brush it out.
Get your brush on, girl. Really comb it for a more natural look. Or just a little bit of brushing for a moe dramatic look.
6. Conceal to pop.
Use a concealer to outline the top of the brows to clean it all up. You may also do the same to the bottom or use a highlighter to really make it pop.
7. Waterproof it, JUST IN CASE!
You never know when you find yourself in a sweaty situation when you can feel your brows melting off. Or when you feel the need to dive into someone’s pool with a full face of makeup on. Don’t take the chance. Just use a waterproof brow gel to lock that baby in. 
Visuals by Thaya