Rendezvous At Greenhouse Five

halter: brandy melville | belt: free people | jeans: tripp nyc via urban outfitters | cardigan: n/a

halter: brandy melville | belt: free people | jeans: tripp nyc via urban outfitters | cardigan: n/a

You know how a work of art is an interactive experience? The artist, the writer supplies the piece, and it's up to the audience to activate it. It comes to life in the mind of the beholder. Architecture, one of my favorite forms of art, is no exception. I think that a building, a space is incomplete until such a reaction occurs, in which a person, upon viewing the scene, subliminally summons all the details needed to finish the picture.

Needless to say, spaces haunt me.

I stumbled upon this castle while driving past Arcadia's campus, and its resemblance to Hogwarts inspired the detour. It was nothing in the style of the castle. Just the fact of its having towers and turrets was enough to engage the Harry Potter reference. It wasn't until I made my way around the back of the building that I saw the castle in its full glory. This teal structure attached to the gray facade was exquisite to the point that I must have spent a solid fifteen minutes taking fifty variations on the same photo, just because each adjustment of two degrees in angle came with the promise that, maybe this time will do the beauty justice.

In my mind, it summons images of the Hogwarts greenhouses, and I can't imagine a dreamier place for an after hours rendezvous, when the premises are spared Professor Sprout's watchful eye.

Other World

dress: disturbia | bomber jacket: disturbia | holographic backpack: disturbia | alien ring: disturbia | boots: free people | socks: free people

dress: disturbia | bomber jacket: disturbia | holographic backpack: disturbia | alien ring: disturbia | boots: free people | socks: free people

You loved space so much you became it... Ever since channeling 90s space Barbie, I think she's become a lasting part of me. On an unrelated note, this holographic alien backpack by my dear Disturbia has become the favorite of all the bags in my possession, partly because it's irresistible and reflects my identity, but mostly because of its hidden power of letting me locate the kindred spirits in my vicinity. When I wore this to Starbucks, a little girl became visibly intrigued with me, going so far as to smile first when I caught her staring. Upon sharing this with my dad, he suggested that perhaps she liked my Barbie hair. Then, I remembered the holographic magic on my back. "Backpack?!" My dad laughs. "Definitely." Mystery solved.

It also comes as no surprise that my kindred soul is eight years old.

Who Invited You

sunglasses: free people | dress: urban outfitters | bag: n/a |  socks: free people | boots: free people

sunglasses: free people | dress: urban outfitters | bag: n/a |  socks: free people | boots: free people

It's currently raining on a Friday night, the sort of rain that drips from the trees, makes ripples in ready-made puddles, melts on your windshield. It feels cleansing, to the earth, I imagine, to the humid air, and to me. And I am here, sat in an armchair that is kind to neither my neck nor my back. But more accurately, I linger in the space between the romantic notion of summer rain and the scene it conjures, and the memory of this day in March, when I too dreamt of summer.

On this occasion, I stumbled upon a Georgian building. Considering that my look that day was a cross between a vampire and a schoolgirl, I could not help using the building as a backdrop, for something about it reminded me of the image of a boarding school that I can never seem to get out of my head. It made me think of lazy summer afternoons; of lounging on dewy grass; of notebooks filled with doodles; of that eerie lethargy that settles over everything, living and nonliving alike, in summer.

Images and connotations aside, the standout part of this day was pizza at Spuntino, a spot situated within a charming food court reminiscent of a miniature Chelsea market. Instantly upon tasting, Spuntino wood fired mushroom pie rose to the top of my list of best pizza I've ever tasted. Just like the image of a boarding school, it's been haunting me ever since.