In matters of style, this lady was exquisite even in her darkest hours.  Her life is a series of assertions in the lines of no fear, no regrets, no shame, and full ego.  Frida used self portraits to juxtapose a life of passion, tragedy, and pain using symbolism in the midst of a colorful and superbly expressive aesthetic.  I suspect she had no lines between her art and herself, no censorship at all.  Disclosure can be shocking, but she got a thrill out of pushing boundaries.  In as much as she could show us how she felt, being in her body or in her life was much more intense -she knew this and has made our grim reactions part of her canvas.



I love your outfit!
Where did you get that? 
That looks so good on you!
I saw everyone wearing those in my trip to Paris!
In New York people are wait-listed for one of those..
I love how you match these together, so clever. 
You look like ten years younger (not necessarily a fashion compliment but a highly coveted one for sure)...
OMG those shoes!!

All of these feel delicious and deserve good merit but, in my opinion, the best ever, most genuine, not-always-positive, could-be-a-dislike-in-desguise-but-who-cares is:


Not so? Xplain.



My thirty-something self is feeling disappointed at the sixteen year old model and also at the good hearted teacher who overestimated obnoxious adolescents by demanding a precocious read on García Marquez.  She used to call me Doña Bella, in reference to another book I didn´t read, but I was pleased with the nickname.  I was flattered actually.  The cover had the picture of a gorgeous woman in a red shirt and jeans with long dark locks on a horseback and, from in-class commentary, I gather she was some sort of femme fatale.  I have dark hair, but I was no temptress.  Although I did have a school romance she knew about and maybe she was in on the teen soap opera.  Our teacher wore rain protective gear indoors and refused to let a day go by without telling us we were ¨cabezas de alcornoques.¨  I was most certain I was, and if not so, then I was incredibly lazy for not going to the dictionary to understand the praise I was getting.  Today, I can describe myself as a daily writer.   Not saying I´m a good one, nor a funny one, but, in all honesty, I have to admit I wish I get close.  No writer can get by without being a reader and next on my to-do-list is Cien Años de Soledad.  

It´s no excuse, but I guess I was also discouraged at the sight of the Buendía Family Tree, mostly because I was having issues figuring mine out at the time.



Being the last to know about something that affects your life has carried along the insulting quality of a obstructed truth.  The owner of the story must hold the maturity of a deity to confront the decision of telling or not the news to affected party, and then, the courage to withstand the consequence of either choice.  The reason is that the truth bearer does´t know how the taker, will take it.  Those ghosts are not for the bearer to bear, as soon as the truth is told, the demons belong to the taker.  Better be safe than condescending.

We have all been the last to know.  Some one has, at one or many, points in our lives, concealed or ill-timed a tactful truth from us...

you have something on your lip.
your boyfriend cheated on you.
you don´t take your drinks too well.
the surgery is too risky.
you are getting fired.
you are getting the job.
your parents are getting a divorce.
you look older in that outfit.
your kid is flunking the grade.

Today, I feel like being the last to know.  I don´t feel like making a decision, of feeling disappointed by any one I trust under the current unexposed circumstances,  I don´t feel like being scared, nor exited, I don´t feel like change, today... If there is something I must know, please wait until tomorrow.




 Jewelry, Panama Hats, stretch pants in beautiful prints.

Dream catchers, shorts, tees, dresses, crochet apparel, totes.

Beautiful prints! For easy decor or as gifts too. 

Apparel, shorts, Mola totes all in great colors and modern cuts.

Nido Shop is an amazing boutique located is on the Panamerican Highway, two minutes before the Coronado entrance.  A pretty unexpected location but as soon as you walk in and notice that everything inside is eclectic, the location seems perfectly fit. 



My son Daniel just told he wants to go to his grandfather, Nono´s house because he hasn´t seen him since he and grandma Abi, came back from a long trip.  I gushed! At him, at the big boy he is, and at the realization that somehow my parenting has anything to do with this amazing kid!  He left and came back with a wrapped box and told me in it was an old Blackberry phone he got from his dad who gave it to him sans battery, nor chip, and in no reparable state for him to pretend-play.  ‟I have to take this to Nono´s house” he said.  This boy is killing me! He is so cute, he is taking a self-wrapped gift to Nono and it´s one of his favorite toys.  I saw the box with all it´s messy, 7-year-old-boy-folds and knew they were a symbol of dedication, intent, and love for his grandfather.  Well, it all came tumbling after quicker than you can say abracadabra.  Danny informed me that he wants Nono, the magician that entertains all his grandkids with amazing tricks, to turn what´s inside the box into an IPhone 5, with battery, and functioning chip.  I asked my humorous side to jump in, but my ego was to blown up for that.  I had a son that seemed to care so much for his grandparents and he became one that pulls all the stops for an IPhone 5.  I am relieved to think that all this validates Nono as a superb magician, so it´s his fault too.  



For full sound effect and visual arrangement go to 
Vionnet Runway Show Spring 2014

I have an aunt who is an animal whisperer.  I will offer no further explanation, nor a list of miracle encounters I, myself, have witnessed.  I won´t spell them out because you´ll come up with different reasons for why these things ended up happening, detracting from the truth that she is, in fact, an animal whisperer.  What she murmured after one of these mystical interactions with a dolphin, is what really caught my attention.  She said, ‟in my heaven I will be surrounded by animals, and I will talk to them all day, and laugh, and be so happy.”  Wait a minute, so she has her own heaven? Designed by her and in accordance with her earthly thrills? I love her, but I really hope we don´t share a heaven.  I am terrified of animals, and from what I understand, heaven is not a place to be terrified (assuming I´ll even go there, in case I don´t deserve it so much, I guess I would prefer the animal door than the really hot alternative).  

Years have passed and I, as well, have often contemplated how I would like my heaven to be.  It´s always a messy account, kind of how you´d describe a dream in the morning when you listen to yourself and you don´t make as much sense as you´d like.  There´s a beach, couture, and some dancing  going on... I love my husband and kids and I´d like to be with them, but there must be a place, like the living room, that leads to all our heavens.  I don´t think I am inconsiderate enough to trap other people in my heaven and not let them make up their own happy afterlife. 

Well, today I saw this video, and I can say: I know what I´m going to be wearing in my heaven.  I know this because I contemplated a premature departure from this gravity laden place to be there just one minute.  If it seems banal to you, please don´t judge!  Be grateful that I am giving you the itch to pick your heaven without reserve and go for it! 

Please share if you have a heaven.



I thought Instagram was cool until I got my Firebox order!  24 Instagram prints inside the coolest envelope with a mini Sharpie pen included to fire away with notes and inspiration on the bottom space -just like a Polaroid.  

I also ordered two of these frames that include 16 pictures in a poster format; one for each of my kids because it became impossible to edit out anymore.    

I had no idea what to do with my favorite picture! I took it to Super Poster and made a picture box with wide vignettes to give the photo a trinket style for a wall of mixed art. 

I can´t wait to get one of these! A mini projector for Instagram pictures from Projecteo.  Great as thank-you gifts, corporate gifting, or to send to a relative far away.
Photo from A Night Owl Blog.

And if you are in a DIY mood here´s wonderful Instagram Collage you can make from 4*6 prints from Blythe Ponytail Parades.

Instagram photo book by Keepsy.  Psst.. great tear-jerking guy-to-girl gift.



What I think I do.

What my husband says I do.

Wikipedia says a hobby is a regular activity done for pleasure.  Therefore, I am dignifying the act of people watching as a hobby.  Sword to right shoulder, sword to left shoulder.  I was introduced to this activity on a family trip to Miami while sitting next to my grandmother Bebe on a bench waiting for my mom to run an errand.  Bebe asked me “do  you know what we are doing?”.  I said “yes, waiting for my mom.”  She said “no, we are people watching.”  She added “ look at that lady and pay attention.”  I did.  The lady was very pretty and seemed to be in a hurry.  My grandmother saw something else.  She challenged me to wonder what this lady was thinking when she got dressed..  I was confused, the lady seemed ok to me.  Bebe pointed out the lady was wearing an anklet over her pantyhose (this was in the 80s) and took me to what became my first lesson in people watching; a series of self imagined scenarios that this woman may have gone through while getting dressed and leaving her house, where the anklet ended up squeezed under her hose.
The rest of the wikipedia definition states that ¨continual participation can provide substancial skill and knowledge about it.¨ Well I am looking forward to that because, according to my husband, I am not so good at it.  He says I am too obvious and almost want to introduce myself.   I insist it is not my fault that two ladies with the most incredible manicures decide to go into intimate details while sitting at a  table arranged back to back from ours in one of those tourist-trap-restaurants.  The dark haired one accounts she is a mistress to a married guy who plays golf and lost thirty pounds since they´re seeing each other.  This is juicy stuff for a newlywed!  My husband tells me I look like a tennis match spectator and that I haven´t touched my food.  I take a big breath and focus on serving my pasta using the fork and spoon method and pray that my attention goes to creating the perfect twirl so I am not tempted to turn around any more.  I must have looked again because the dark haired mistress is telling me my husband left and is making signals to me from the plaza.  Alex pulled this prank to make a point, and he did.  People watching and people listening are not the same thing.  The latter being rude to the parties involved and the uninvolved as well.




I stopped to think what was this catchy-ass tune that has stuck in my head all morning and seems more inevitable than my shadow.  Memory is not my strong suite, but this song is there so, why can´t I remember what it´s from?  As opposed to other catchy tunes that I would wrestle out of my system, I was not fighting this one.  It´s fun, fresh, uplifting, kinda makes me wanna get dressed and go!  One day we are going to be able to find our lost keys on the Internet, so I googled: ¨truly, truly, truly, outrageous.¨  The search was over and there it was!  The smell of a lazy Sunday, the tickles of my grandmother´s light blue shaggy carpet, and dreams of wearing too much eye shadow listed before my very eyes.  Before Sex and the City there were Jem, the Holograms, the Misfits, and the Stingers.  Fashion was so impressive across the board that I even cheered for the bad girls.  
Do you have a cartoon fashion idol?  



(At my first attempt of a selfie... I don´t think this pic makes the cut, but you get the picture -pun intended).  

In fashion, I usually fall in love at second or third sight while the first sight gets the most awful commentary.  Suddenly, without notice to buckle up, I feel a swift move from the black spot to the white area in the spectrum.  It is so confusing!  I find myself infatuated by something I called nasty and ugly two seconds ago!  As a daughter of the eighties and nineties, I´ve broken many of the decades hate spells: aversion to white shoes, gold jewelry, cropped socks, amongst others.  So I´ve had my dose of black to white experiences.  That being said, I never saw this one coming: the color pink.  I stood my black ground on this one forever, attesting a hate that equals ¨x¨ to a huge number on the top right corner.  All of the sudden, I cannot get enough of the pepto bismol, bubble gum, girly-girl hue.  



Royalty lost its monopoly with the democratization of the monogram.  This custom, once reserved by blue bloods to showoff lineage, is now at arms length for us common folks who are not divinely entitled.  A quick internet search teaches us how to abide by strict rules regarding the order and size each initial should have.  In true royal style, it´s not so easy nor commonsensical, much like having over a dozen eating utensils for a single meal.  Though I can attest, as a persona non grata, that following all these eloquent rules does provide a quick fix of royal high-ness.