This is the Rolf-Benz 3100. It is very expensive. More options to come.
My friend Erin wants a recliner. Or, according to Erin, her husband wants a recliner...but let's be honest: We all kind of want a recliner, even though we know that recliners are the furniture equivalent of minivans.
Erin wants a recliner.
Couch | Pillows | Throw | Nude Beach Print
I remember when I bought my first Grownup Couch™; for all the fuss I made about the thing, you probably do, too. That couch lives with Kendrick now - I kept the consignment-store set that used to be in our old living room, and that is now dying a slow death thanks to the fact that it is white (rrrg, also totally my fault).
Our division of assets was eminently fair - way beyond fair to me, honestly; I kept the vast majority of our furniture after our split. But I did still have a moment of mourning for our old Couch Boat when I moved into my new place and discovered that the new family room is an absolute behemoth of a space, and would have been the perfect spot for the thing. And the amount of money I had available to spend on couches after, you know, lawyer's fees and mover's fees and such was something like $2.
I continue to have never in my life watched an episode of Fixer Upper (except for during my post-surgery recuperation saga...I think...but I was in a bit of a fugue state and cannot be expected be held accountable for - or remember - any choices made during that time period). And yet I am so in love with virtually the entire Hearth & Hand collection at Target that I'm kind of embarrassed by the level of my affection.
I am afeared it makes me a bit basic.
But whatever. Call me basic. It's so good.
When I was in elementary school, I was always setting up little stands in our building's lobby to sell homemade lip balms, customized friendship bracelets and such - and I was one of only maybe six kids in the entire building, so I actually made out like quite the bandit during these entrepreneurial ventures. (My "lip balms" were made by mixing Fuzzy Peach-scented Body Shop bath oil capsules into my mom's leftover Vaseline and throwing in some food coloring, so mayyyyybe not...oh, I don't know, especially safe to put on your mouth. But I was seven, so I assume liability was less of an issue than it might be nowadays.)
Apparently the desire to make giftable crafts stuck around, because I had wayyy too much fun making these solid perfumes - and they're a really cute last-minute gift idea for kids to make for friends and relatives (so long as you help them with the stove-inclusive part; let's please not burn any tiny fingers in the process of giftable craft-making). They're also 100% free of Fuzzy Peach-smelling chemical pods, hooray!
Note: You can choose whatever essential oils you want, and can combine them as you will to customize your scent - just make sure that the number of drops you use ends up totaling 30. (I was thinking about Tocca Bianca when I made this, so I went for a combo of lavender and lemon, leaning more heavily on the lavender.)
Sweater + Earrings via Rent the Runway
I do not want to cook right now. Or maybe ever again. I also do not want to spend $85 a night on takeout, but for real: the whole simmering-of-sauces-and-sprinkling-of-delicate-herbs is not happening at the moment; what’s on the menu is whatever is in the refrigerator and takes three to five minutes to get onto a plate.
So it’s back to the meal delivery services, except now I’m leaning away from ones that make me do things like chop onions, and towards ones that send me onions all nice and pre-chopped. (I used to think that this was cheating. Except now I realize that hello, I know how to chop onions. I do not need to chop onions ever again in order to prove this to myself.) What you see here is from HungryRoot - they’re a vegan delivery service (although they’re introducing some fish and meat in the New Year), and yet somehow phenomenally delicious (weird), and the food takes literally (LITERALLY) three to five minutes to make. I don’t get it, but I don’t care.
