Tag Archives: Liberata Dolce

New Outlook, Who Dis?

It’s official. Being single in your 30’s might just be the worst title one can have today. And before any of my feminist friends lose their shit at me for this declaration, hear me out first.

You see, I’ve been quite comfortable moving through life at my own single speed. Sure, I’ve had a few great “almost, maybe” relationships, but none of them ever ended in “happily ever after”. And that’s okay. Because being single is fabulous, right? You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. You don’t have to share anything. Or compromise. You get the entire bed to yourself. And my favorite part- every day is literally brimming with the excitement of the possibility that you could meet THE ONE. In other words, when you’re single, you almost feel like the rest of your life is still one big, exciting question mark, and your future is still full of unlimited possibilities (I know, I know- que Natasha Bedingfield’s Unwritten).

Okay, so maybe that’s just my only child syndrome showing, or maybe it’s my selfish nature to usually put myself first. And do every little thing myself (because who else can it better, right?). But more importantly, maybe it’s because in today’s world, I have to question how anyone could ever make another person happy, without first being happy with themselves. Sure I want the King to my Queen, but how can I financially contribute equally to a relationship when I’m still building my own empire? How am I supposed to inspire and motivate another person when I’m still so focused finding my own? Because after all, especially by today’s standards, success is something I should be able to build all by myself, and definitely not with the help of a partner.

The pressure of being a strong, independent female today is real, y’all. And truth be told- it’s exhausting.

So if you’re anything like me, you most likely spent your 20’s working hard to be the Boss Babe that you are now in your 30’s. I see you Queen. You ate your glitter for breakfast, and you became the proud poster child for #riseandgrind. You’re by no means rich (yet), but you’ve been able to support yourself, all the while successfully dodging fuckboys along the way. AND you probably did it all in heels. That in itself should earn you a trophy. Or at the very least a vacation.

Except there is no trophy. And there is no vacation. Instead, there’s only another level, or another new goal you’ve decided you need to reach. Which means more glitter will be needed, and more rising and grinding will be done before we might finally be able to declare ourselves as “happy”. To be fair, I’m not sure what exactly happens to a person when they do successfully reach it. Maybe some internal light magically turns on similar to a taxi cab, letting men know that you’re finally qualified enough to be Wifey material. Or, maybe nothing happens at all, and we just have to continue dodging fuckboys until The One simply decides just to casually show up one day in some meet cute kind of way.

Or maybe, we can finally just stop worrying about it. And just keep crushing our goals while we live our life. For the record, this is the option I vote for.

So why is being single in your 30’s such a toxic title to have today? Well the truth is…. it isn’t. Or rather, you shouldn’t look at it that way. Because being judged for being single in your 30’s is really just a sign of the times, and not a sign of your life choices. Or perhaps I should say- a sign of the changing of times.

Let me explain….

Remember when you were young, and society had this normalized standard that you thought you had to follow to be successful? First you would go to college to get the job that would make the money, then you would meet Prince Charming somewhere in your 20’s, get married, and then finally, you would have the family and coveted white picket fence in your 30’s. It all sounds so lovely, right?

God, we were stupid….

Because as it would turn out, we would grow up as the generation that would rewrite the entire fucking script. The generation that proved you didn’t need to go to college to land the dream job. Instead, we realized we could skip the student loans, create our own dream jobs instead, and just start working for ourselves.

We realized the divorce rate was ridiculous, as most of us grew up in single parent homes. So we decided maybe getting married in your 20’s wasn’t the best idea, and we took our time instead. So we used our 20’s to live. We used our 20’s for travel. For experiences. And for an education that no classroom would have ever provided. And hopefully, through all that, you figured out just who “you” really were, and how much “you” were really capable of. And then to our surprise, we discovered the person we were in our 20’s would still yet somehow evolve into almost an entirely different person in our 30’s.

And now here we are in our 30’s, and we’re still learning. About ourselves, and about what we define as a successful life. For some of us it might still be that family with the white picket fence. But for others, it could be the apartment you’re still renting in NYC. Or maybe it’s living with your best friend in the Hollywood Hills. Or maybe it’s the old, but very shabby chic farmhouse with just enough property to shelter all the animals you rescued.

The point is- the only way to measure your success in life…. is you. Or more specifically, your happiness with where you are, right now.

So the truth is, maybe our 30’s are when we just need to stop. Stop with all of it. Stop with the standards. Stop with the timelines. Stop with the judgement. And to finally stop letting ridiculous factors like goals or wealth determine our own happiness with where we are in life, at this very moment.

And instead, maybe we just need to start looking at ourselves as individuals that each have their own idea of what happiness is. As individuals that are still learning. Still growing. And more importantly, individuals that are still making mistakes.

But above all, maybe your 30’s are for finally realizing the only things worth chasing in this crazy beautiful life, are the things that set your soul on fire.

Fast Fashion…. Fast Dating?

Call me old school.  But there are 2 things that I believe still deserve to be done with thought and integrity:

 

Fashion & love.

Fashion, because it is still a representation of who you are.  How you feel.  It’s a representation of your passions.  Your beliefs.  It can tell a little about your past, while even adding hints of where you see yourself in the future.

 

You don’t dress for the job you have, you dress for the job you want, right?

 

So it’s a little disappointing that we now live in a world where fashion has become fast.  Cheap.  Little care needed.  And easily disposed of.

 

And really, whats to value about the quick purchase we made at Forever 21?  That $14 dress you bought to wear once, on Friday night, cause it’s, like, so cute.  If the dress is lucky it will survive the night without any stains, and will eventually find its way to the nearest donation bin along with 10 more just like it (different colors, of course).  But more often than not, it will fall apart after being washed once, and it’s memory will only live on only in a filtered Instagram post.

 

We make purchases like these because, while they may be a big fashion risk, they will be little risk to our wallets.  With virtually no financial damage, we can score an entire outfit, knowing full well it may only be worn once.  And that’s okay.  Because you weren’t really interested in committing to it anyways.  I’m pretty sure you have no intention of passing on your sequin and studded tube top to your future daughter.  And you probably aren’t saving it for a rainy day, either.

 

However, stopping by Neiman Marcus could cost you.  Big time.  Not only will you be spending more, you’re also more than likely committing to making a permanent home in your closet for your purchase.   This would be considered an investment.  So a lot of thought (and a little trying on) will be required before you make your final selection.

 

But wait…  Dry clean only?  No thanks.  Hand stitched?  I mean, how could anyone even know if that’s true?  Hand wash only?  Who has time for that?  Lay flat to dry?  Girl, bye.

 

And so, not wanting to take the risk of spending your time, money and effort on something of quality, you settle for cute and convenient instead.  So it’s really no surprise that we have evolved to treating other areas in our life with the same level of effort.

 

Things like relationships.

 

Face it- dating has now become the Forever 21 of our love lives.

 

Fast.  Little effort invested.  Disposable.

 

And online dating has become our fitting room.

 

That would almost be funny…. if it weren’t so true.  And we have to face the reality that online dating really is the only way to go these days.  I mean, you could still run into someone at the grocery store, I suppose.  But even if you did see someone that caught your attention, chances are that person will walk cruise right by you, their face buried in their phone, feverishly swiping, narrowing down that weekend’s dating options.

 

Because we don’t lock eyes anymore.  We swipe right.  Or, if you’re feeling extra creepy, you can slide right on into their DM’s.

 

Romantic, right?

 

But this also creates another problem- no one actually invests time in getting to really know one another anymore.  If the dress rips, you can just throw it away with no remorse and buy a new one.  If a date falls short of our expectations (but he said he was 6’2!), you can simply hop on your phone, ignore your 5’9 date, and line up your next one before you’ve even finished your drink.

 

That’s if you even make it to an actual first date.  Because more often than not, the first date is now the time you message one another, right after you’ve matched on Tinder.   That’s right.  We just went ahead and completely eliminated the need to even have an actual face-to-face conversation to learn about one another.  OR, we want to know everything about that person to even determine if its even worth going on a date with them.  In my own personal experience, this dance can go on for weeks.

 

It goes something like this: 

 

So, what do you do?  What do you do for fun?  Where do you live?  Where are you from?  What brought you here?  Have you ever been married/kids?  Are you on Facebook?  Instagram?  I’m probably going to need to see more pictures of you in various situations to determine just how attractive you really are.  How tall are you?

 

Basically, this Q&A session will last longer then if you had just skipped all the superficial stuff, and actually just met for a drink instead.  But neither party had to get off their couch, change out of their sweats, or make any real effort whatsoever.  There’s no risk.

 

And so while you may know what they had for lunch that day, thanks to Instagram, you will have zero clue on whether there’s actually any chemistry between the two of you.

 

This is known as the period that we assess the potential risk of the individual.  Or, in fashion terms, is the item worth the price?  And there lies the problem.

 

I’m not sure we even understand what quality is anymore.  In fashion, or in love.  Or what it means to really invest in something, and want to take care of it, understanding that the item’s value will appreciate over time.  We no longer know how to look at things, and think of the future, and imagine how special their place could potentially be in our lives.  Do we even know how to care for something that could be expensive now, but priceless down the road?  Instead, we’re only thinking of the hear and now.

 

And so we fail to imagine the magical memories that could be created, and fill our lives with a string of instant gratification moments instead.

 

But isn’t the magic what dating is all about?  The potential?

 

When did we forget about the possibility of butterflies?

 

Thanks to social media and Amazon Prime, we expect everything now.  From information to sex.  We want to have all the answers.  All the information.  And a solid return policy.

 

But that’s not how relationships are formed, or even how memories are made.

 

I’d still like to believe that I’m going to marry my best friend.  And a relationship like that takes time.  Built with quality, and capable of being repaired, even when completely broken.  Cared for with love, and protected from harmful agents.  There for the good times, and even the bad.  No annoying flaws or snags, but rather, only the stories behind them.

So I propose we start to treat dating like it’s something we actually value again.  Because it is a risk.  Whether it’s your heart, or your money on the line. Stop wasting your time and energy on cheap knock-offs, and instead save your efforts to invest in the real thing.  Next time you meet someone, put down the phone.  Lighten up on the messages.  And put your fabulous, beautiful self out there and invest the time and effort to really get to know them, face to face.  Say Goodbye to Forever 21 (unless it’s for accessories- I can’t even fault you there).  And begin to treat your potential relationship like an Hermes bag.  Sure, it’s a risk.  And it definitely could cost you.  But that same investment could be worth more than gold in time.   And while it’s beautiful now, it could be even more stunning with age.

 

And always, always handle it with care.

 

And who knows….

 

  Maybe, just maybe, you might get butterflies.

 

Microblading- A Brow Game Changer

***

I wish someone would have warned me when I was younger just how important two narrow lines of hair would eventually be to me.  I especially blame my Grandmother.  Beautiful and fabulous, her brows were a sparse reminder of overplucking to follow the beauty trends dating all the way back to the ’30s.  So when I reached the age where I realized it was time to wrangle my own arches, I really should have known better.  I should have known that less is not more.  And I really should have known to leave them in the waxing hands of a professional.

Basically, I should have just left well enough alone until I knew what the hell I was doing.

But, like most things in my life, I tore into my brows with wild excitement.  Now to be fair, they weren’t awful.  But rather, I think I just assumed that all brows were created equal, which was a major rookie mistake.  I also assumed that by being Italian, and therefore having enough hair on my head for two people, that my brows would follow suit and just continue to grow in waves.  It was an exciting thought.

It was also a very stupid one.

Because they didn’t.

Instead, I was left with two sad strips of hair that were so sparse that trying to shape them into anything would be the equivalent to the old guy with a few hairs on his head.  And lets them grow really long.  And then wraps them around his entire head.

So instead, I did the only natural thing I could think of.  I started filling them in.  It was an art I became obsessed with.  And quite good at.  And with that, I sealed my own fate of a lifetime commitment to eyebrow pencils, powders and dip brow.  Anastasia would later become my best friend in life.  And I would never, ever be able to go swimming on a first date.

I had gone from bushy to bare to prisoner.

Until now.

But first, let’s rewind to about a year ago when I first noticed an ad about microblading.  I remember looking at the “before” picture of one sad shapeless brow.  Followed by the immediate panic of my own brows (Were they okay?  I think I may have accidentally touched my right brow earlier…  Is there a smudge?  Are they still on fleek?  I should do a quick mirror check to confirm…).

And just to put things into perspective, when your brow obsessed, or rather, obsessed over your lack of brows, those questions will flow through your mind probably 30 times a day.  Maybe even 60 if you have a date that night.  And the first time you sleep over your new guy’s place and have to wash your face before bed?  It’s like the Walk of Shame, except you’re only walking from the bathroom to the bed.

But then (after confirming my brows were, in fact, still perfect) I saw the “after” picture….

At first, I felt the same familiar pang of jealousy I usually reserve for Angelina Jolie’s brows.  And lips.  I mean honestly- how is one woman so perfect??  But back to the point.  Because then I just felt skeptical.  Surely it’s photoshopped.  How in the world is that even possible?

(Unless you’re Angelina…)

But then I felt… hopeful.  Because when I clicked on the ad, I was taken to a website where literally rows and rows of before/after photos were posted, just waiting to show me this was in fact no joke.

It was Microblading.

Also know as the semi-permanent process of tattooing tiny individual hair-like strokes that look so real that it’s almost unreal.

Now because I’m a grown ass woman who has learned her lesson about going ham on anything involving my brows, I started doing my research first.  And the more I read, the more I was convinced that this was my solution.  I started once again fantasizing of perfectly shaped arches that were dramatic, yet realistic.  Fantasizing about a life with brows that didn’t wash off.  Or dictate the start of my day.  Or add another 10 minutes to my already too long ritual of getting ready.

Only this time- they could actually be mine.

But there was still one thing that stood in my way: I needed to see microbladed brows on someone.  In person.  I needed to get all up in their grill and really see this miracle up close.  On someone who was just like me, and got dealt a shitty hand in the brow department.  And had spent every day of their life since religiously filling in their brows, whether they were leaving the house that day or not.

I needed to see them on someone who understands that good brow game is life.

And as fate would have it, that person would turn out to be my best friend, Corrine Dale.

Now, Corrine happens to be in the beauty industry, so you already know she’s not entertaining anything but the real deal.  So when she told me about her appointment, I immediately confessed my interest in the whole procedure.  I pulled up the original ad and together we admired brow after perfect brow.  And it was a little less than a week later that I would see Corrine’s new perfect brows.  In person.  Up close.  All up in her grill.  Amazed.

It was kinda like discovering Santa Claus was, in fact, real.  Except it really was real.  I was seeing them with my own eyes.

And exactly one hour later my appointment was booked.

And it was exactly one week later that I myself was walking into Salon 2510 to meet with Jenn Lintzenich– who I have now dubbed The Brow Queen.  Located in St Pete, this charming salon was everything I had pictured.  Clean, chic and comfy.  She greeted me with a warm hug and instantly I was at ease.  Because no matter how much research you do, the thought of doing anything permanent is scary.  But her confident and professional energy erased any doubt that may have still been lingering.

Of course, I arrived with my brows filled in as usual, though slightly darker.  I just felt it was important that she see me the same way I’ve grown accustomed to seeing myself.  Or, rather, my brows.  Plus, I knew she would measure my face to mark where my natural brow should start and stop.  And I was curious to see just how bad of a job I’ve been doing all these years.  To my amazement, I had been dead on.

ABOVE: An example of how to find your natural brow shape.

ABOVE:  Measured, marked, and outlined.  The actual area to be microbladed will be entire area inside the dark outer line.

But more importantly, it meant that if she was going to follow my natural brow, they were going to look pretty much the same.  Only a hell of a lot more natural.

The measuring process probably took the longest out of my two hour visit.  As it should.  Because it’s not so much a process, as it is an agreement between yourself and the artist.  A level of expectation.  There should be a clear understanding of what you expect your final result to be, yet a reasonable one.  With my current brow situation, or lack thereof rather, I was pretty much a blank canvas.  But I was also very set in my brow ways.  I knew what I wanted, and came armed with screenshots to back my vision up.  But I was also open to the possibility of my expectations being unrealistic.  At the end of the day, your artist is someone who is trained and licensed to do what they do best, so their opinion should not only be welcomed, but taken seriously.

Fortunately we were on the same page, so there was nothing left to do but get to work.

The next step was to apply a topical numbing gel to work its magic.  Because its microblading.  Which means a needle will be involved.  So there’s no need to ask if it’s going to hurt.  But more on that later.  Because while the gel was slowly numbing away, we had another important decision to make- Color.  This can be a difficult decision for many reasons.  But the most obvious being your hair color.  Because what it is today, may not be what it will be tomorrow.  So while I’ve been living the blonde life for about 5 years now, my natural hair color is black.  Yet, I’ve always filled my brows in with light shades of brown.  So together, we decided that a 50/50 mixture of dark and light brown would be perfect.  The idea being that we would rather start off lighter, and go darker if I felt the need during my touch up visit a month from now.

ABOVE:  Numbing gel with plastic on top for absorption.

And then it was Go Time.  My shape was drawn, my color was mixed, and my brows were numb.  All in one hour’s time.

    I laid back on the table, took a deep breath, and braced myself for the worst.  Not because I thought it would hurt like hell, but because I hate needles.  And I had this picture of a giant tattoo gun in my head.  Instead, she leaned over me with a tool that was no bigger than a pen.  And no louder than the sound one would make when clicking it open to use.

But best of all??

No pain.  I mean, everyone is going to be a little different in this area, but I would say one a scale of 1 to 10, the majority of the procedure was a 1 for me.  Maybe 20% of it a 2.  And another 5% was a 3.  At one point, I’m certain I could have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes.  And why not?  I was in good hands, having a procedure done that I would almost consider life changing.

After about 30 minutes, she had me get up and take a look.  Not just because I was curious, but to see if there were any tweaks I thought might be needed.

Honestly, this was probably the scariest part of the whole thing.

I had to close my eyes before standing in front of the mirror.  Because I knew that when I opened them, it was either going to be one of the greatest moments of my life, or one of the worst.  If I opened them, and they were awful, then it would mean it really was too good to be true.  That, once again, there was no Santa.  And I would be confined to my brow prison again.

I held them closed for one more final second…

And then… I slowly opened my eyes, prepared for whatever was waiting.  At first, I was confused.  And then… surreal.  Because for the very first time, I knew I was looking at a reflection that would never again be a source of anxiety.  A reflection that would no longer require time and effort before presenting it to the world without shame.  I would wake up to that reflection.  That other people would wake up next to that reflection.  Because it was no longer simply a reflection.  Or a screenshot.  Or a wish.

It was me.

No Dip Brow required.  Or mirror check to confirm.

This is me…

ABOVE:  Both pictures taken immediately after.  No redness, swelling or pain.

I didn’t cry.  I thought I would, but I couldn’t.  I was too happy to cry.  I also needed to focus and really look at the face that would now be me.  I saw only a few minor tweaks, which she had already pointed out.  It just took standing up and looking at me from a different angle to confirm.  Again, we were on the exact same page.

I jumped back on the bed and closed my eyes, ready to begin the final step.  The Chainsmokers started playing in the background and I began to hum along.  And enjoyed the experience of what would be the final brow to ever land on my face by hand.

In a month, I’ll go back for my final visit.  It will take that long for them to heal.  Which is just another way of saying the pigment is going to change a lot over the next few weeks.  It’s been a about 6 days, and they already appear lighter.  Though it’s hard to tell with the scabbing- a natural reaction to any kind of tattooing.  The most annoying part of the whole experience has been keeping them dry.  Turns out, you’re not allowed to get them wet for the first ten days, or it can affect how the pigment sets.  So if you’ve ever grown bored with the mundane routine of washing your face, this could be just the kind of challenge to keep things exciting.

And while I fully intend on writing a second part to this after my final visit, I will go on record now and say with 100% certainty that I have absolutely no regrets.  And the experience itself has a lot to do with that.  So if this is something you’ve been considering, or even merely thought about, it’s definitely worth a consultation.  Because while the internet is great for research, you’ll get the best answers one on one.

If you’re lucky enough to live in Florida, or even if you’re visiting the area soon, make an appointment with Jenn.  Like, now.  You can see more of her work on Instagram by following her HERE.  Her enthusiasm and passion for the industry are reasons enough.  But her overall skill and natural talent makes her the best in the area.

Or, give her a call directly for more information, or to book an appointment:

(727) 485-4178

And, of course, feel free to comment with any questions- I’m happy to answer them!

 So for now, I think it’s important to end Part 1 by agreeing that of course natural is beautiful.  But beauty comes in many forms, and can be determined only by the eye of the beholder.  But there is truly nothing more beautiful, or more amazing, than the body you have been gifted.  Treasure it.  Take care of it.  And appreciate it.  All of it.

But the key word here is “your”.  Meaning that however you choose to express yourself with your body is your right.  It is the greatest instrument you will ever have, and should be adorned accordingly.

So adorn away.

Because the best look on anyone is, and always will be happy.

XX

Re-Inspire, Re-Boot, Re-Start

When I was little, I had an idea in my head of who I wanted to be when I grew up.  We all did.  Except, my vision was always so much different than my friend’s.  I can remember hearing them talk about where they wanted to get married, how may children they would have, what their names would be…  I had names, too.  Only they were the names of the countries I wanted to see.  Names of the designers I would work for.  And the names of the labels my closet would contain.

Fast forward to now.

Many of my friends would go on to bring their dreams to life.  Most are happily married now, with the children they had wished for.  And while their names may have changed (Cinderella seems like a good idea when your 8…), the overall vision of their future is pretty much what they had hoped for.  And even if it wasn’t the path I chose for myself, I could not be any happier for them, and the beautiful families they have now brought to a warm and loving reality.

And then there’s me…

Now before you start to think this is a pity post about missing out, I regret to inform you that I have absolutely no intention of doing any such thing, as I harbor no disappointment with myself, or my life.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I’m proud of the things I’ve accomplished, especially within the last few years.  I’m proud of the chances I took, and the decisions I have made.

Above all, I’m proud of who I am as a person.

But nevertheless, there has always been one specific area within my life that had room for drastic improvement.  Or, rather, the strength and bravery to completely change it.  And that area was my career.  And trust me- I’m being kind by even using the word “career” to describe it.  Because it was never a career to being with.  What started out as simple desire to make some money fresh out of college turned into a 10 year journey of… absolutely nothing.  Those of you who have been involved with retail can relate to my pain.  You can relate to the brutal hours.  You’re familiar with the sacrifice of your social life.  And for one reason or another, its a life that seems impossible to escape.

Here are just a few reasons I can personally give you.

You see, most of us grew up with parents who told you that if you wanted to be something in life, you needed to work hard.  Really hard.  Or, you needed to work hard now so you could play hard later.  But what they don’t tell you though is that there IS a difference between working hard to fulfill your own dreams, and working hard to simply build someone else’s.

And that’s exactly what I was doing.

Sure, I’ve made a good living.  I’ve been able to support myself, even when it seemed unlikely.  But while I was making that very living… I wasn’t actually living.  I would often joke to people and tell them I had two jobs- one that paid the bills, and one that paid for the experiences.

Retail was my paycheck.

And being a stylist was my escape.

It was being a stylist that kept my original dream alive.  It was modeling that offered me the occasional escape.  And it was through writing that I was able to stay inspired and focused on what I wanted to be.

On WHO I wanted to be.

And so… I quit.  I walked away once and for all from the “career” that in reality had become my prison.  I walked away from the “career” that kept me from the family and friends that I love.  And above all, I walked away from the “career” that kept MY dream so far from reach.

And its scary as hell.

BUT, I think that’s a good thing.  Because its only through fear that I think we become capable of truly knowing ourselves, and achieving extraordinary things.   And I realized that in my 10 years of retail, there wasn’t one position I had where I didn’t feel there was someone who could do my job just as good, if not better.   From Sales Associate to Assistant Manager to Store Manager.  And that’s no longer good enough for me.  Its simply not what I’m here for.

I’m here to be indispensable.

Because that was MY dream.  To be special.  Unique.  Unconventional.  To do something no one else can do, and then build a career from it.

Liberata Dolce Fashion Blogger Stylist

So I might be 10 years behind, but I’d rather be 10 years behind then not ever being brave enough to even try.  Because you need to know your happiness is worth more than your paycheck, and you need to believe your dreams are worth more than title.

And while I have no idea whats going to happen, or where I’ll end up, I can admit that at the same time, and for the first time, my heart could not be happier about the possibilities that lie ahead.  Because maybe… just maybe… I’ll get to finally live the life I had envisioned for myself.  And do something no one else can do.

I have to.

It’s just too beautiful not to.

X

Prolific Quarterly

Happy Valentine’s Day dolls….

Since today is all about love,

and I love YOU,

I wanted to apologize for my lack of posts lately.

However, with that comes great news that I can finally share with you all.

Starting Tuesday, February 16th, Prolific Quarterly will be featuring posts from your truly.  Teaming up with this  publication, which concentrates on primarily on lifestyle, entertainment and high fashion, is an absolute honor.

Many of you already know I was featured in their Winter Edition, Noir et Blanc.  The experience, which started off as just a model for a pictorial, turned into writing my first published written editorial.  And the rest is history.  Its also a testament to what I preach most to you about on here- having confidence in yourself and living the life YOU want.

While I will continue to post work on here, I encourage you all to check out my weekly posts for Prolific Quarterly which will be updated every Tuesday.

You love and support has been an absolute blessing, and I cant wait to see what the future stills holds.  And you can remain confident that whatever it brings from a fashion or beauty perspective, you’ll be able to read about it.

Because I LOVE writing about it.

To follow my posts for Prolific Quarterly, visit HERE.

To order a digital or hard copy of Noir et Blanc, visit HERE.

Stay fabulous Dolls…

Turn Up The Vamp- Fall is Coming

A chic way to transition luxuriously into cooler temps.

Cause Bombshells stay Hot all year….

#BombshellCode

 

Turn Up The Vamp Factor- Fall is Coming

Lanvin silk top
forwardforward.com

Gucci jacket
$5,145 – profilefashion.com

Alexander McQueen black jewelry
$1,440 – farfetch.com

Kate Spade engraved jewelry
couture.zappos.com

Alexander mcqueen jewelry
$490 – net-a-porter.com

Alexander McQueen band jewelry
$460 – farfetch.com

Alexis bittar bracelet
bergdorfgoodman.com

Fendi cateye glasses
luisaviaroma.com