507

A Journey Through Southern Morocco

You know what they say: a  journey of a thousand miles begins with a selfie   The penultimate destination on my #30BecomesHerTour may have been the Sahara, but the journey to the arid desert itself was the stuff of which imaginatively

507

A Journey Through Southern Morocco

You know what they say: a  journey of a thousand miles begins with a selfie   The penultimate destination on my #30BecomesHerTour may have been the Sahara, but the journey to the arid desert itself was the stuff of which imaginatively

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Blue Dunes: Sailing the Sahara

They did not strike me as melancholic, the camels. Perhaps aloof, withdrawn, displaying deep lassitude even as they masticated, ceaselessly, their cud. But not melancholic. Before one can wake up to the Sahara, one must first arrive: we did so by camel, Farida and I. Dropped off at the shore of the dunes by our driver Abou, we were met by our camel guide, Hamou, a laconic boy of malt-coloured skin who appeared far too young to be so at home in the wilderness. He was ostensibly as emotionally removed from the wonder as the new humped friends with whom he greeted us.

FullSizeRender (19)

Blue Dunes: Sailing the Sahara

They did not strike me as melancholic, the camels. Perhaps aloof, withdrawn, displaying deep lassitude even as they masticated, ceaselessly, their cud. But not melancholic. Before one can wake up to the Sahara, one must first arrive: we did so by camel, Farida and I. Dropped off at the shore of the dunes by our driver Abou, we were met by our camel guide, Hamou, a laconic boy of malt-coloured skin who appeared far too young to be so at home in the wilderness. He was ostensibly as emotionally removed from the wonder as the new humped friends with whom he greeted us.

FullSizeRender_1

Quintessence of Dust: Waking Up to The Sahara

A morning walk along a high crescent of the Erg Chebbi dunes “…the beauty of the world…and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?” famously queried the Danish prince in the throes of the existential crisis of existential crises.

FullSizeRender_1

Quintessence of Dust: Waking Up to The Sahara

A morning walk along a high crescent of the Erg Chebbi dunes “…the beauty of the world…and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?” famously queried the Danish prince in the throes of the existential crisis of existential crises.

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Le Nozze

Buongiorno from breathtaking Taormina, Sicilia! I have been away from blogging for a time, and will be for a while longer for with sunrises such as that which I am witnessing as I type, I am afraid this clavier shall

IMG_5895

Le Nozze

Buongiorno from breathtaking Taormina, Sicilia! I have been away from blogging for a time, and will be for a while longer for with sunrises such as that which I am witnessing as I type, I am afraid this clavier shall

The Metropolitan Museum of Art's COSTUME INSTITUTE Benefit Celebrating the Opening of China: Through the Looking Glass - Red Carpet Arrivals

Red Carpet Fashion Flash: 2015 Met Gala Through The Magnifying Glass

Yesterday was Met Monday: the evening on which fashion and its purveyors descend with grand heave and gallant grace upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in celebration of the annual style installation at the museum’s Costume Institute. Choosing to ignore – in light of the occasion which called for a commitment to risk – the safe ensembles, here is a round up of the attendees who brought the paradisiac drama and those that dragged us through the gyre of hell itself.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art's COSTUME INSTITUTE Benefit Celebrating the Opening of China: Through the Looking Glass - Red Carpet Arrivals

Red Carpet Fashion Flash: 2015 Met Gala Through The Magnifying Glass

Yesterday was Met Monday: the evening on which fashion and its purveyors descend with grand heave and gallant grace upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in celebration of the annual style installation at the museum’s Costume Institute. Choosing to ignore – in light of the occasion which called for a commitment to risk – the safe ensembles, here is a round up of the attendees who brought the paradisiac drama and those that dragged us through the gyre of hell itself.

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A Cut Above, Down Under

Mercedes Benz Fashion Week Australia (#MBFWA) just came to a close. What’ that you say? You are not up to speed on your Aussie fashion pantheon and royalty? Oh, my dear, you owe yourself the education. From the laser-sharp, crisp structural precision of Toni Maticevski (a personal favourite I discovered on Moda Operandi some many moons ago), to Michael Lo Sordo’s bias cuts and diaphanous drapery fit for the denizens of Mount Olympus, to even the sometimes sordid and always decadent lace, beading and appliqué workings of Steven Khalil that present an intermingling of levity with weight, the runways Down Under were certainly anything but average, serving full-tilt drama and delight.

IMG_1743

A Cut Above, Down Under

Mercedes Benz Fashion Week Australia (#MBFWA) just came to a close. What’ that you say? You are not up to speed on your Aussie fashion pantheon and royalty? Oh, my dear, you owe yourself the education. From the laser-sharp, crisp structural precision of Toni Maticevski (a personal favourite I discovered on Moda Operandi some many moons ago), to Michael Lo Sordo’s bias cuts and diaphanous drapery fit for the denizens of Mount Olympus, to even the sometimes sordid and always decadent lace, beading and appliqué workings of Steven Khalil that present an intermingling of levity with weight, the runways Down Under were certainly anything but average, serving full-tilt drama and delight.

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/ Food

It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year: Rhubarb Season

Rhubarb season is notoriously short– well at least it is in Georgia, given that it is not grown here. I believe the season lasts approximately 12 hours: you blink and it is gone. For this reason, once I catch wind of rhubarb’s return, strawberry rhubarb pie (and other such strawberry-rhubarb dalliances) must happen.

IMG_2505
/ Food

It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year: Rhubarb Season

Rhubarb season is notoriously short– well at least it is in Georgia, given that it is not grown here. I believe the season lasts approximately 12 hours: you blink and it is gone. For this reason, once I catch wind of rhubarb’s return, strawberry rhubarb pie (and other such strawberry-rhubarb dalliances) must happen.