Hi, sexy Wednesday. It's a chilly day here in the MIA but the sun is shining
vibrantly and I'm feeling happy. I'm joyous because I've decided that once a
week I am going to try and take a scenario that is less than glam and add
some much needed fabulousness to it. One of said situs is most definitely
camping. Yes, camping. I admit, I am not much of a camper. In my hippie high school days, I could
get down with it, actually really enjoyed it (yes me. I know...). But ever
since moving to New York and then Miami and embracing a more urban way of
life, I completely lost interest in outdoor pursuits, unless it involves
beach time. I have often said nature is overrated- more to piss people off
who aspire to some Walden ideal, but honestly, I get a bit bored in the
wilds, and positively spooked by the silence and creatures rustling about.
It's just not my thing, camping. Don't get me started on the bugs. But I'll tell you what COULD become my thing- glamping. Glamping is camping
but with a healthy dose of glamour, natch. It's still very unfussy and
respectful of the woods/beach/desert or wherever you lay your tented head.
But here's the deal- picture a chic teepee, some vintage batik or Indian
frocks hanging in some nearby trees swaying gently, a grilled lobster
dinner, a perfect rose, crisply chilled. This is surely the way to go. It
may also involve a fur hat, Gram Parsons on an endless loop, and some
wellies or boots that lace. Or barefoot is also divine, so as to feel the
grass underfoot- very grounding, that. It's all very gypset and it feels and
looks like something I want to be a part of. Like right this very second,
for instance. I've attached some photos for your reference- some from the Gypset book,
some vintage Gram Parson and other pastoral rock shots, as well as some
randoms I've snatched from my arsenal of reference materials on all things
chic. My dear husband has wanted me to camp with him in Big Sur for a
million years now- I have always scoffed at it, but if I could glamp it, I
may suffer it well. As long as there are lovely grilled things to eat,
endless light wine, and a tent filled with pillows, cushions, and poufs of
the Moroccan variety, I think I could get down, as well as a wardrobe that
is rich hippie inspired and full of flowy goodness. So if you, like me, are
not the Appalachian campground type, this glamping thing may tickle your
aesthetic as well. Because if I have to embrace the outdoors and abandon my
urban ideals, then I'm going to do it in the height of hippie haute. And
that's that. Cause that's what's up this chicly wooded Wednesday in the MIA. All the
love. Let's get outdoors, shall we? XO
vibrantly and I'm feeling happy. I'm joyous because I've decided that once a
week I am going to try and take a scenario that is less than glam and add
some much needed fabulousness to it. One of said situs is most definitely
camping. Yes, camping. I admit, I am not much of a camper. In my hippie high school days, I could
get down with it, actually really enjoyed it (yes me. I know...). But ever
since moving to New York and then Miami and embracing a more urban way of
life, I completely lost interest in outdoor pursuits, unless it involves
beach time. I have often said nature is overrated- more to piss people off
who aspire to some Walden ideal, but honestly, I get a bit bored in the
wilds, and positively spooked by the silence and creatures rustling about.
It's just not my thing, camping. Don't get me started on the bugs. But I'll tell you what COULD become my thing- glamping. Glamping is camping
but with a healthy dose of glamour, natch. It's still very unfussy and
respectful of the woods/beach/desert or wherever you lay your tented head.
But here's the deal- picture a chic teepee, some vintage batik or Indian
frocks hanging in some nearby trees swaying gently, a grilled lobster
dinner, a perfect rose, crisply chilled. This is surely the way to go. It
may also involve a fur hat, Gram Parsons on an endless loop, and some
wellies or boots that lace. Or barefoot is also divine, so as to feel the
grass underfoot- very grounding, that. It's all very gypset and it feels and
looks like something I want to be a part of. Like right this very second,
for instance. I've attached some photos for your reference- some from the Gypset book,
some vintage Gram Parson and other pastoral rock shots, as well as some
randoms I've snatched from my arsenal of reference materials on all things
chic. My dear husband has wanted me to camp with him in Big Sur for a
million years now- I have always scoffed at it, but if I could glamp it, I
may suffer it well. As long as there are lovely grilled things to eat,
endless light wine, and a tent filled with pillows, cushions, and poufs of
the Moroccan variety, I think I could get down, as well as a wardrobe that
is rich hippie inspired and full of flowy goodness. So if you, like me, are
not the Appalachian campground type, this glamping thing may tickle your
aesthetic as well. Because if I have to embrace the outdoors and abandon my
urban ideals, then I'm going to do it in the height of hippie haute. And
that's that. Cause that's what's up this chicly wooded Wednesday in the MIA. All the
love. Let's get outdoors, shall we? XO
