cait +tiff

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lady time.jpgI can’t really focus on anything today because I am so excited that Tiff lands in LA tomorrow morning! I could barely sleep last night. We are going to be very busy eating things, walking to things, looking at things, and talking about the things that we ate. There are going to be a lot of photos of tacos, and a lot of selfies in the next few days, so if you follow us on social media, get ready to be bored of us.

Mostly, I am so thrilled that Tiff is coming across the planet to see me. I miss my friend and I can’t wait to make a big embarrassing show about it at the airport in the morning.



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C /go, and then keep going


I landed in DC yesterday, and am awake to watch the sunrise over my country’s capital. It’s beautiful, full of orange and yellow light, creeping through the clouds like it doesn’t know what is happening today. It feels like no one told the sun about the new President.

I want to have something good to say, but I am not sure what it is yet. In my jet-lag haze of Facebook scrolling this morning, I came across this quote from Glennon Doyle Melton:

“I still cannot believe that I live in a country in which violence against women is not a deal breaker. In which blatant racism isn’t a deal breaker. In which religious intolerance isn’t a deal breaker. In which the mocking of the disabled is not a deal breaker. I am still stunned by it.

Please don’t tell us not to be angry, not to feel betrayed, not to be afraid for our own safety- unless you can explain to us that this is not true. It is true. The truth of that is settling into the hearts and minds of every vulnerable group in America today. So think before you tell us our fear and rage are not warranted. Think hard.”

I will be at the Women’s March in DC tomorrow, and I am craving the anger, the purpose, and the company of the women I will be joining from around the world. But I am worried about the days after, about “going back to life” and what that means. I don’t want to go back pretending that everything is ok, because it’s not, and there is so much more to do. I am scared that people will be proud of themselves for taking action, and then stop. Please, please don’t stop. The protest will be fun and empowering, but the letter-writing, constant opposition, and daily awareness of this state of fuckery will not be. Keep going.

Keep going and understand your own privilege. Keep going with empathy and kindness and recognition of your own power. Keep going and refuse to sit down, refuse to be quiet or still or small.

Keep putting beauty into the world, and please keep giving a shit.


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C / together and stuff

Transitions are hilarious, easy, and always lots of fun without any confusion whatsoever. Or the opposite. Uprooting is a mess, and resettling is sort of like trying to make a house out of legos and rapidly melting ice cream. It’s a weird time, so I am calling in reinforcements, and tapping into some experts on how to keep my brain and body from exploding into a million pieces.

On Tuesday night, I attended Together, a traveling speaker series with Glennon Doyle Melton at the helm. You may know her blog, Momastery, or her book, Love Warrior. Her story is one of recovery and acceptance, with a huge amount of humor. She is monumentally brave with herself, highlights her vulnerability, and is above all, honest. She, along with host Jennifer Rudolf Walsh, have pulled together women from all walks of life, with incredible stories of bravery, love, and strength.

Right, so it’s a self-help-type thing, and my snarky, stubborn guts feels weird about things like this. They even gave you a little booklet where you write down your manifesto and strengths and dreams and a bunch of other things that are really hard to figure out in the allotted 45 seconds. My self-loving brain and my shit-talking brain had a long conversation about whether or not this is total garbage, and the self-loving side actually won.

Strangely enough, I like doing things that make me feel better about the hard parts of life, and I think it’s really valuable to listen to remarkable women talk about real, honest, vulnerable stuff. I get that this might sound like I’m elbow-deep in inspiring Pinterest quotes with stock photo sunsets in the background, but that’s fine.

So because I didn’t record the whole thing on my phone that really needs to be upgraded, below, are internet-provided clips of the ladies on stage. Honestly, these clips don’t do the  speakers justice, but you get the idea.

Glennon Doyle Melton

“We can do hard things.”

Dr Jaqui Lewis

“Friends, we need to vote like our lives depend on it, like our love depends on it.”

Seane Corn

“You only ever teach what it is you need to learn, quite frankly.”

Valarie Kaur

“We can tell our own stories, author our own articles, make our own films, launch new campaigns, influence government and the media, and organize through technology and innovation. We have the tools to make love public in ways we haven’t seen before.”

Gina Rodriguez

“You are enough today, and the second you accept yourself is the second everybody else around you does as well.”




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C / Emma and Zady


Photo via @emmawatson

I love a good collaboration. I love it even more when it involves one of my favorite public figures and one of my favorite companies. Emma Watson and Zady have come together to promote ethical and sustainable fashion and are currently launching their collaborative collection. So far, there are only three pieces available to pre-order, but they are solid. The shiny-objects side of my brain was hoping for more items, but they are staying true to the less-is more principle, and focusing on three timeless pieces you can wear forever.

Hermoine Granger  Emma Watson has been a badass since she was like 6, and I have a ton of respect for her for using her fame-powers for good, and generally choosing to be an awesome person in an industry that does not require that of her. This collection is anther example of her pushing forward businesses that are doing things the right way, and proving what a Gryffindor she is.



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C / weirdo bingo-travel edition


I do weird stuff sometimes. The peak times for me doing weird stuff are:

  1. When I’m tired
  2. When no one is around
  3. When lots of people are around but I don’t know them
  4. When I am traveling
  5. When I have time to kill

On the way back to US over the weekend, the conditions were perfect. I had 7 hours in the Seoul airport between my flight from Phnom Penh and my flight to LAX. I have a hard time sleeping on planes, so when me and my bloodshot eyeballs arrived in Seoul at 6:30 with about 30min of awkward plane sleep, the weird was coming.

I’m sharing this stuff because I think these things are awesome but also sort of strange. Either way, I highly recommend doing them while in transit. Sort of like a weirdo bingo.

  1. Sneaky facial. My skin is always wrecked after flights. It’s drying and red and awful and puffy and ew. My favorite way to fix this is to pretend I am a very fancy person, walk into Duty Free and make a bee-line to the very-expensive cosmetics counter. I ask about a few products, and tell them I am interested in trying a few other things from their line, because I have already tried so many. I ask about specific issues and ingredients in the product and by the end, my face is covered with dead sea cream and virgin tears. It’s a free facial and makes my skin happy. Sometimes I do buy something, sometimes I do not, either way I glow.
  2. Go find the ginseng counter. This is Seoul-specific, I guess, but can apply to other cultural things in airports all over the world. Korea is super into red ginseng, because it’s super good for you and it looks like the dead aliens from Independence Day when they are in those big glass tubes and Bill Pullman is like, “oh dang.” Anyway, I didn’t know that much about it, so I went to the counter and asked why it’s so popular. The people working there know SO MUCH, and they are happy to share and have you taste things. I got a few ginseng candies out of the deal and I feel much healthier already.
  3. Dance party. This is more of a mall walk/booty shake, but it’s fun. Grab one of those little push carts, put your carry ons on that bad boy, and put those ear buds in. I usually listen to HAIM, Raphael Saadiq, Prince, Billy Joel, or B, or some awesome combo of all. I walk as fast as I can, pushing the cart and a jamming out. I walk like Tyra, give a little booty tooch, and usually work up a sweat. Don’t worry, there are showers upstairs. Sometimes I sing, because you might as well look properly crazy if people are already staring at you. They jealous.
  4. Jason masks. In addition to the sneaky facial, I love the paper masks they sell at the cheapy cosmetic stores all over the airport. These are the products that aren’t nice enough to get into Duty Free and come in flavors ranging from snail to 24 karat gold to royal jelly.  Find a row of empty seats, and put that weird mask on your face and watch people be terrified of you. If you lay down and cross your arms across your chest, people may thing you are embalming yourself. Hell, you might be, I don’t know what’s in those masks.
  5. Stretch. This is actually a very good idea, and if you are lucky, you might be joined by a group of elderly ladies that are amused by how giant you are. The stretching really helps with the whole sitting for a million hours thing, but people will look at you. It’s important to make sure you are not wearing see-through leggings for this, but that’s pretty much the only precaution.

That’s all. There are probably more things, but chances are, I don’t notice they are happening. Everyone steals cheese from the lounge, don’t look at me.

Photo credit


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C / Coming to America


I head to the states tonight, and I am looking forward to hanging out there for a few weeks. I will be hopping between LA/NY/Tucson, hopefully with a stop in Chicago to squeeze my niece and nephew.

I am excited to be back in the states for a minute, though I’m not sure it feels totally like home anymore. I have been living outside of the states for the better part of five years, and I feel a little bit like Encino Man, entranced by the modern world. (Note, if you don’t know what Encino Man is, I am so, so much older than you. Go watch it, and understand why loving Brendan Fraser was a thing.) The US feels like a magical place where people are shamed for littering, everyone (mostly) adheres to traffic laws, and you can get berries any time of year. It’s also a place that is weighed down by some crazypants politics, that feel like they might be more at home in a corrupt pseudo-democracy, like this one.

The cocktail of feelings I have going back never goes away, but it’s mostly sweet. I will still sob on the airplane, because I’m a squishy weepy baby when I am tired and cruising at 30,000 feet. I actually love the trip at this point. My carry-on is more of a strategy bag, and nothing goes in there that I don’t need. I bring fuzzy, totally dorky butter socks (pink) with me because those slippers they give you on Korean Air always fall off and I really don’t want to touch the bathroom floor with my feetsies. Ew.

Even though I am exhausted on long haul flights, I love the quiet time, being unavailable, and staring out the window, wondering what’s below. Of course, I can look on a map and find out, but what fun is that? The stars mixed with moderate insanity, and the glass of wine that was supposed to make me fall sleep, is actually kinda nice.

Back on next week, with jet-lag fueled posts on who knows what.

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C / recharge


I am on a sneaky trip to the US right now and things have been non-stop. I can never see as many people as I would like, I constantly feel guilty about not spending time and catching up with people I love, and jet lag is sitting on my shoulder like some maniacal sleep wizard that hits me at random. It’s sort of the curse of living in a weird place far away.

Since leaving school in London, my brain has been in 5 different places at any given time. I am looking for meaningful work, working on samples, trying to keep up my drawing and designing, catching up with people I haven’t seen in months, and trying to carve out a little time to recharge. Of course I don’t plan for that time, and hope that it randomly presents itself and I can curl up by a window with coffee and a good book like they do in a Nicolas Sparks movie, because that is so much like my life. Anyway, this trip I actually did take the time to carve out a bit of sanity, and took a drive out to one of my favorite places in the world, Nonquitt.


Unless you grew up on the East Coast and have strong ties to whaling history and WASPy behavior, you might not recognize the name “Nonquitt.” It’s a teeny place just south of Cape Cod, full of weather-aged shingled houses, seafood on the grill and fans of birding. I have been going there since I was a baby, my mom has been going there since she was a baby, and there are photos of my grandparents there as teenagers playing baseball. I actually don’t know how long it’s been in the family, but I know its haunted, I know its awesome, and I know there is no place like it.

There are three places in the world that know me: Nonquitt, MA, Egg Harbor, WI, and Tucson, AZ. I don’t even really know what I mean when I say that these places know me, but it feels like being with old friends when I am there, and I can just be myself. I spent less that 24 hours there this time and I feel so recharged, like I was able to shed all the armor of my normal life and just walk around feeling lighter for a few hours. I didn’t do anything special while I was there, I think the feeling just comes from the place and all the memories that flood my brain when I am there.



I’m on the train back to my favorite city in the world, and the urban armor is going back on. I’m not sad about it, but I can definitely feel it. Wondering now about sustainable fashion design houses in small fishing towns in New England. Ethically made lobster bibs? Eh?


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C / farm animals and steinbeck


I’m on a farm right now, which is a little bit different than Tiff’s rave yesterday. I fed horses, sheep, chickens and dogs this morning, then cooked eggs straight from the coop. It’s a really nice way to start a day.


It’s cold here, unreasonably so, considering that it’s June. Pick it up Virginia, this is not what I packed for. It’s beautiful though, with the misty mountains living up to their name, and you can’t throw a rock without hitting a winery. (Note: don’t throw rocks randomly.) I am enjoying the high snuggle index, and the rainy morning excuse to drink coffee for 4 hours.

Picking up a John Stienbeck book this morning, the opening quote from Travels with Charlie: In Search of America, got me.

“When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ships’s whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping. The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of stomach high up under the rib cage. In other words, once a bum always a bum. I fear this disease incurable. I set this matter down not to instruct others but to inform myself.”



baaaAnd this is the face that wants to play while I am posting. I have to go play with this face now.