It's Friday again. And I've been thinking if there ever will be a day when I am not mistaken for a child or a teenager. It has its perks, but often times I wish people could stop being so superficial. I've leaped over that thin line between girly and just plain woman a number of times, long jumped if you please,yet there are those special people I meet who send me right back over into the little girl's corner. Me? I am resting my legs, no more jumping. I don't have to prove anything to them.

I remember waiting in line at the airport parking lot a few months back. I was anxious to get to my ride, so I had my keys out long before I paid for parking. The security posted there had the nerve to watch me up and down and ask me if I am not too young to drive. Honestly speaking, I don't remember what I told him as all these experiences are melting into one. Maybe I answered optimistically. Maybe I put him in his place. Then, in the dress I was wearing, I felt undeniably like a woman, albeit a little one. 

This is another dress I found in my closet (found because it has been overlooked so many times). It makes me feel like an "Alice in Wonderland". It's one of those dresses I would, if I even bother too, wonder what would "they" take me for: woman or girl. It seemingly places me on the line itself and I am not bothered by it. As a matter of fact, I had tremendous fun in this number exploring Loterie Farm.

When was the last time someone mistake you for almost half your age? What happened?

This past Saturday, the sky was pouting gray and showering St. Martin with much needed rain. I could have stayed inside, curled up under some soft sheet and watch a good movie, but I went on the road, eager to hang out with my sister and give you a sneak peek of a portion of Grand Case. (More about that tomorrow.) 

I wore the jeans I often keep cuffed and whenever I wear them I wonder if I should in fact get them tailored. Once in a while, I’d have this brief conversation in my head about being short and clothes being too long, but I usually put a full stop to it and go about my business. Apparently, these days adding cuffs to the end of your jeans is a desirable look and I am more than thrilled to share six ways to do so with you. 

As for the long sleeve tee, it was taking a rest at the back of the closet and since the sun got all covered up, I broke out my personal golden rays, a little honey mustard paired with carved wooden earrings and brown leather heels. I loosened my twists and chilled near some cows for a few minutes, having my pictures taken,  wondering why people are racing on this little strip of road and really excited to take on Grand Case with my sister. Happy Birthday siblings!

I had a crochet dress like this one before, fine intricate patterns and a solid color, so I knew that when I walked into the store, turned the corner, and saw two racks of them in two colors, I knew I was going to try the cream one on. And I did. 

Soon after, I left the store, came back fifteen minutes later and went to war on which color I should take. I fell in love with both. So as a distraction, I went to meditate on a pair of shoes. 

Listen to this. I know you’d laugh at me now, but the exact same shoe situation happened again. In the store, I tried on the animal print flats. They were so comfortable, beautiful even, but the right one was loose on my foot. Come to find out that it was, again, two different sizes. Someone somewhere went with a mismatched pair. Better yet, someone with my exact tastes has mismatched feet, and they are closing in on my shoe shopping life. At least I’d like to think that way.

Back to the dress, I like that it is simple from a distance, but up close there is enough going on to keep the eye busy. I like how the pattern is displayed in the sleeve and hemline, little tiny flowers. It feels delicate, always dressy even, which is exactly why I placed it in front this backdrop, in front the ragged concrete and steel of an incomplete stairs. 

Here in the Caribbean, some people build their homes brick by brick over a period of time just like my new dress. Crochet takes time, flower by flower even if it is not done by hand. 

I saw this dress from a cross the road on Backstreet and said yes to it, twice. I love it. It doesn't spring with spandex or any strange material. It defines the waist and has adjustable straps. I knew this color would shout, riot the eyes, but love my skin tone. 

And the absolute best thing about it is, it was only $8.33. 

The beach is like a second living room. 

There is something about hearing the waves break and fussing over sand between your toes. It is such a calm place to hang conversations on sea grape tree branches and to allow the ocean breeze to fill the pauses and to cleanse any misunderstanding with its salt. Most families park their cars and dining tables there for the day, but I go for short moments.

And the other day, I took some flowers with me, flowers in colorful splotches like they had been water-painted onto my two-year-old dress from Express. In my non-beach dress, I sat among the spotted branches of the sea grape tree, fully amused with the mongooses (herpestidae) running rampant in the bushes near by, and for the first time, I heard them ‘worked up’ and in a fight. 

Those little suckers are, according to what I had been told, responsible for wiping out the snake population on St. Martin. I wonder now if they were confused about my shoes, its “kick and stab” shape, confused that it had the skin of a snake. [Anne Klein iflex Harquin Slingback pump]

(For those who didn't know, the sea grapes turn velvety purple when they are ready to be picked; its seed is hard and full in the center unlike “regular” grapes. At the beach the sea grape tree is at home.) 
Photographer—D.C. (thank you & bisous)