I lived in Temescal in 2011, when I was young, naive, and dead broke. (Well, broker than I am now. Which is only moderately broke.) Things have definitely changed in my old ‘hood; for one thing, it’s probably a lot more pricey and harder to live there when you’re dead broke. (The one place I hope won’t change is The Avenue, the most defiantly dingy bar in the neighborhood. It redefines “sticky.”) There’s no better indicator of Temescal’s rise to hipness than a little place called Temescal Alley.
Take a detour off Telegraph at 49th Street, and about 70 feet away, turn left. You’ll find a hidden mecca of tiny clothes boutiques, upscale salons, and tchotchke temples. At right at the very end of the alley is Mind’s Eye Vintage:
It’s tiny, like everything else in the Temescal Alley, but it’s got a nice variety and I bet you’ll find something that sings to you. I sure did! Like this lovely lady:
Adorable. Sometimes, a sweet little spring sundress is all you want. Forget love, all I need is frocks.
Yes, vintage aficionados: that is indeed a Gunne Sax dress! I have one that I inherited from my mom that looks exactly like this but in navy: so if you’re ever dreamed of stealing that “Liz Vogt Look” (there are probably DOZENS of you wannabes out there) then snag this dress right now.
I love cowboy-style boots for picnics and playtime. (But for the love of God, PLEASE wear little socks under them. Say NO to stankboot!) These cool, creamy white ones would be perfect with a light, cottony sundress:
But these total kooky (in a great way) carousel boots should be the centerpiece of the outfit. Make sure everything else you wear is simple and plain- don’t make these diva shoes jealous. You don’t want to see them when they’re jealous.
There’s a nice collection of jewelry, too: most of it involves turquoise, but this shiny silvery outlier caught my eye:
Normally I LOATHE spiders. I’ve had more traumatic experiences than I can list here involving spiders. I hate killing any other living creature, but I feel that if a spider is in my kitchen, my bedroom, or god forbid, MY BATHROBE, he or she has violated a social contract and has thusly forfeited his or her life. I try to be merciful if I can, but no promises, Charlotte!
However. I’d wear the hell out of this necklace.