Who are you calling vintage?

I had the pleasure of taking a few hours this weekend to hang out at Chicago’s Randolph Street Market.

It was a perfect weekend to do it! Great weather, beautiful sunshine, and that soft Chicago breeze that comes every once in a while.  Booths lined the market with vintage treasures and trinkets.  A live band played in the background. The ambiance was perfect.

As my friend and I browsed the vendors we stumbled upon a couple of vintage clothing tents.  I’m a sucker for vintage clothing. My entire undergrad garb came from endless hours of thrift store shopping.

I was in heaven! Rows and rows of clothing were creatively laid out so that one could see the beauty in each piece.  How lucky I was to have found a dress that I immediately fell in love with!

I had to buy it. It’s going to go great with my red shoes.

I forgot how much fun it is to “dig” for the perfect look.

I am Laundry Illiterate!

Okay, so I think I keep up with our laundry all week.  Yet every Sunday, I am in shock at all of the laundry that is in our hampers.  Where did all of the dirty clothes come from?  I’m sure I’ve been in the basement doing loads on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday!

Taking some time to reflect, I guess I’m only keeping up with Oster’s laundry.  His washcloths, bibs (he uses 10 + a day because of drooling), pants, onesies, socks, pjs, etc.   I’m not putting an emphasis on my husband’s and my laundry.  This makes sense because by Thursday, I’m like “Where are the dish rags” and “I thought I washed my black shorts already”.

When my husband helps me with the laundry on Sundays, I always tell him that we should probably only have two or three loads because I’ve been doing it all week.  Well, I’m always wrong.  I clearly do not have the skills to determine the time it takes to do our Sunday laundry.  And I’m fine with that.  Probably  because he does the majority of it.  Thank you, Andy.