All posts tagged: style

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Is It Black, White Or Grey?

A simple question. How do you set your standards?   How do you define your ethics?  Determine whether something is black or white?  And when does grey come into play?  Let me briefly explain. SOMEONE TRIED TO SCREW ME OVER Yeah.  It had to do with that unholy triad. You know, trademark, money, and, well, blatant stupidity. Anyway, that unpleasant incident led to a series of conversations between me, myself and I, as we extensively dissected ways and means in which we would could handle the protagonist whom I shall call PITA (pain in the ass). The following thoughts were raised:- >  PITA started out as a groupie.  A major fan.  So that means she must have a good heart underneath all that, well, nasty back-stabbing bitchiness.  Right? >  Maybe she truly doesn’t know what she’s doing is illegal? >  Yes, PITA acted in very poor taste.  She was unethical, to say the least, but perhaps, just perhaps it was unintentional? >  Or, dare I say, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery? On …

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A Week In My Life 3 & A Link-Up

Peekaboo. I see you, world.   So, after a brief hiatus (ish, my last life post was dated 18th November), I’m back again with a wee peak into the happenings going on in my tiny, not so eventful world.  That said, quite a few things have occurred since my update of 6 weeks ago, friend. First of all, remember Elliot?  My massage therapist? Well, he resigned from the practice a few weeks ago.  Apparently, he had been paying off his ex-wife’s IRS debt (I don’t understand it either), and concluded he simply wasn’t earning enough with his current employer to be able to do that as well as afford a new sports car (huh?).  So he decided to leave and find work with The Joint (a chain of “fast food style” chiropractic outlets).  I don’t know about you but this guy has me shaking my head in bewilderment quite a few times. Then on Christmas Eve, we had our traditional family dinner at the nearby McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood and Steaks Restaurant (pictures here).  On …

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I Resolve To

Not make resolutions. It’s a recipe for immediate disaster.   I’m fully aware that this is all psychological. And that calling a rose by any other name doesn’t make it any less than what it actually is, a rose.  That said, over countless years of drawing up list upon list of resolutions (and failing dismally to fulfill any), this MO seems to work better for me.  This renaming of resolutions as intentions.  Or desires.  Or to dos.  When I peg them as resolutions, my mind instantly conjures up the first day of a new year.  And that’s precisely how long those resolutions are remembered.  24 hours (if I’m lucky).  It’s as though if they’re called resolutions (or goals), they become more like, well, wishes.  And hopes.  Not focused, determined commitments to achieve or acquire (or rid oneself of) things that are of immense value, tangible as well as non tangible. AM I MAKING ANY SENSE? Is it the very same with you?  Or am I essentially writing a truckload of poppycock? At times, I wonder, …

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Shine On

Twinkle, sparkle, and shine. Shine like the brightest of diamonds.   As I was writing back to Ada, confirming my participation in this special collaboration (thank you for even thinking of me), I began mentally assembling my outfit, as I tend to do whenever embarking upon a shared project. A little bling here, a little shine there.  Perhaps velvet.  Or some sequins.  You know, how the concept of being festive and dressed up for new year’s eve seems to always be tied-in with those elements.  And that’s when the thought came into my mind.  That a woman shouldn’t sparkle only once a year. That a woman should always sparkle.  And shine.  As bright as she could ever possibly be. Every single day. In everything she does. Big or small.  Be it on her own, or with her fellow sister pioneers (Famous Footwear, you really knocked it out of the park). Shine so bright that she illuminates every soul met along the way. Dispel the shadows. Cast them aside. Propel others into the beautiful clarity of …

The Fab 40s Take On Plaid | Sheela Writes

The Fab 40s Take On Plaid

Some say Plaid. Yet others say Tartan.   However you call, that criss-cross pattern of horizontal with vertical bands in various palettes (red being most popular, regardless of season) is instantly recognisable by one and all.  And I couldn’t be more delighted that The Fab 40s is showcasing its unique spin on plaid for this month’s edition. I shan’t be writing much today. Every now and again, a sabbatical is required.  To recharge.  Reboot.  Re-energise.  And that too is true where my brain is concerned because, as of Christmas Eve, it has been officially on hiatus.  I kid you not. So for today, please enjoy some truly pleasing eye candy from The Fab 40s and our guest, all in the name of plaid (or tartan, whichever floats your boat).  And let me know which is your fave out of the eight.  I know, it’s a toughie. Plaid Capelet & Bowie Top (thrifted) | Leather Culottes (Forever21) | Spiked Suede Booties (Make Me Chic) | Detective Trench Bag (Gaultier) | Sunnies & Jewellery (Poshmark)  PRESENTING THE …

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Christmas Memories Part 1

There’s more to this time of year, Then sleigh bells and holly, mistletoe and snow, Those things, they come and go.   My earliest Christmas memory is of when I was about 5.  We were somewhat nomadic at the time, moving frequently (for reasons which I cannot now recall, I must ask my Mum), and that particular year, home was a tiny spot atop this low-cost apartment complex built for government employees (my dad was part of the Marine Fisheries Department then).  We were on the very top floor (apparently my acrophobia hadn’t yet made its appearance known), the four of us crammed into the teeniest two bedroom apartment. I remember sleeping on mattresses on the living room floor most nights because it was very warm.  The air often so thick and muggy you could slice through it with a knife.  And my ears tuned in to the soft rustling of the ceiling fan as it oscillated in a steady, hypnotic rhythm which would eventually lull me into the arms of Morpheus. WITH “APACHE” FROM …

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Quick Update & A Link-Up

Keeping things easy. Short, sweet, simple, succinct.   Per my Wednesday post, I’ve just had surgery.  And because it was for the eyes, I am, as you can imagine, typing with one finger, and blurred vision so please forgive me for (a) a short post; and (b) any typos.  Do also find it in your heart to ignore the fact that this post will be short on words, with photos in abundance.  I know, I know, I promised I would never become yet another glossy lookbook in this already saturated bloggersphere but it’s hard to create content when one is somewhat driving blind.  Literally. So without further ado, today’s post concludes my tri-part tweed collaboration with Jodie and her ladies, and Eve.  Our first post featured tweed in a ladylike manner followed by a punk interpretation.  To finish things off, we now present tweed in a fun fashion, which, obviously opens up many worlds in terms of styling. And yet I choked on this one.  I couldn’t think of what would make tweed fun.  I …

More Tales Of Tweed | Sheela Writes

More Tales Of Tweed

He’s still my soulmate. (Always) the better half of our duo.   I realise that within the contents of our first tweed post, I’d promised to share more about the rollercoaster moments of life with my man.  However, in true Sheela form, it had completely slipped my mind that I have surgery scheduled.  Yes, today, Wednesday.  As such, you’ll forgive me if today, I make it a smidge brief?  And to wait a wee bit for more tales from my hearth? Tweed Blazer (old, option, option) | Plaid Asymmetrical Dress (Free People gifted, option, option) | Spiked Vegan Leather Choker (Manic Panic NYC gifted, option, option) | Plaid Waist Cincher (McQueen very old, option, option) | Embellished Black Leather Glove (antique, option) | Steampunk Gear Brooch (gifted, option) | Sunnies (thrifted) A POINT OF TRIVIA TO SHARE I wore only black for the first 38 years of my life. In a (predominantly) steampunk and goth manner. Black. Black with black. Textured, grainy black. Shades of black, if that makes sense. Spikes.  Studs.  Tattoos.  Black lipstick.  …

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Life With My Man

He’s my soulmate. The better half of our duo.   I’d do anything for him.  Stand in front of an oncoming train for him.   Move mountains.  Walk on water.  And yet, there are moments when I’d ever so happily throttle him with my bare hands. Yes, with absolute relish (he’d probably say the same if you but asked him). Before anything else, let me tell you that the idea for this post was completely inspired by Rosy of Sparkles Of Light.  Her rant left me laughing so hard, and for so long, that not only did I end up with stitches in my side, my nose was oscillating between being utterly stuffed up, and utterly drippy.  Peppered with intermittent snorts similar to the trumpeting of elephants.  It was neither an attractive sight nor sound, no. Tweed Blazer (old, option, option) | Lace Top (sold out, option, option) | Coated Jeans (Forever 21, option, option) | Long Line Bralette (Victoria’s Secret, option, option) | Booties (GX by Gwen Stefani, option, option) | Necklace (gifted, option) …

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Every Woman Out There & A Link-Up

You, Me, Her. All women everywhere.   Let me preface by giving credit where it’s due.  This post is completely inspired by what Catherine wrote about the competitive world of (younger) bloggers and how that “dog eat dog” spirit is, for the most part, absent from the community of over 40s (and above) bloggers.  What you’re about to read is my take on women, how I’ve seen women behave around and treat each other, and how we could potentially be.  This piece is in praise of every single female out there. I often hear “women are our own worst enemies” in terms of our culture.  I’m tired of that argument.  I think everyone is their own worst enemy, and I don’t think it’s about something women have specifically against each other.  I’ve been in close proximity with quite a few women in my life, both professionally and personally, and those experiences have (largely) left me optimistic, grateful, and humble.  Of course, this isn’t a fairy tale so yes, I’ve been screwed over by females in business …