There isn't a woman alive who doesn't love butter. Meet a variation you'll love even more: butter LONDON non-toxic nail polish. 
Yes, it all does seem to taste better out, but you can recreate the very best of your fave cafe in your kitchen. 
Sofft. Two f's are needed because these shoes are the bomb.
We love our products, oh yes we do. Not all work as advertised, but they still fill our drawers, bags, pockets. Here's one that's as advertised -- facelift in a pot, high school reunion in a jar.
How much do we love the white pumpkin?
...with a wonderful shoe.
Chapeaux. Boaters. Fascinators. Pillboxes. Veiled or sans. Who does not love a hat? Sadly in sunnier climes hats feel more a self-conscious nod to capital-F fashion than finishing touch.
What with all the meetings and phone calls and emails and texts and Facebooks and people people people, sometimes it's all a girl can do to keep her hair combed and teeth brushed. Need a way to keep the head on straight and the gun in the closet? Pull out an apron and start sifting some flour. 
Tell me one thing from which you cannot be distracted, he asked, hands in my hair.
I love everything in its place. Unfortunately, living in two pricey urban centers for most of my adult life has left me long on theater tickets and short on storage space. Cupcake carrier in with the overcoats, oversized cookie sheets under the bed.
OK, so maybe we're like fish in that way. Or crows. Or some other discerning scavenger of the natural world. Whatever.
Good-bye eyeshadow, who looked so pretty this morning. Farewell liner, so sparkly on initial application.
Even more on the radio. NPR + Ira Glass = genius storytelling and relevant commentary.
Even the Queen of Just Say No has trouble sleeping. OTC is for the birds, most Rx is too much wake-up. This Goldilocks finds Restoril just right: Pure sleep, no kick. Not every night, but sometimes.
I think I can, I think I can rings a little hollow after 40. No longer inspired by such simple wisdom, I think I can is replaced by who gives a k-rap?
Astride at 10, thrown at 12, clinging to Old Paint in the Mendocino sea. Horses can be a dicey prop, no question. But when your feet haven't touched the earth in ages and you can't quite get your head from out your arse, a horsey will zen you right back to present. You've got no choice but to connect. 
