January 18, 2013


(One of my favorite quotes... I know I've shared it with you before.)

Hello all,  This post is a long one.  Today (with her permission) I am sharing bits of emails from a lovely gal who emailed me last spring.  We got together to talk about blogging, as she was looking to start her own blog; however, since then she has decided not to - for reasons that I fully understand and respect - and reasons described below.  I know it's a lot to read, and I don't expect you to read it all, but she is such a wonderful writer (so funny and honest)... even her emails were good.  I hope maybe you'll at least read the last email.

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to the author of lovely and rust, molly - 

my morning routine is simple. take the lid off of my traveling coffee to cool, check emails, but before responding to them...i read my most favorite blogs. many at the top of my list are written in new york, australia, spain, some in chicago and russia. but when thinking of beginning my own blog, mainly to share what i view as most inspiring to women in columbus, i was at a loss to find anything that seemed to fit "my style." that is, until i came across your recent post on nat the fat rat. 

i'm not sure if you've ever had the feeling of an empty spot on your creativity shelf, but being in columbus, often surrounded by a lack of unique design and fashion, it's been a struggle to find a way to connect my lifestyle with my online loves. you do it so well. hip-hip-hooray! 

i'm still hoping to start a blog to let all my inspiration flow out of me like a sprinkler.  if you're free, i'd love to treat you to a coffee and blog chat. it would be so nice to know how someone got started. 


to molly, the girl who gave me a wonderful compliment and whom i'm looking forward to meeting. 

would you be free next thursday by chance? i'm open to locations as i want to be sure you aren't going out of your way or jumping hurdles to find a parking space. 

open to dates. 
open to times.
open to locations.
closed only to tube tops.

thanks, molly. i'm sure i sound incredibly creepy by my confidence in pointing you out from the photos you've posted on your blog. however...i'm confident that i'll be able to point you out from the photos you've posted on your blog. 

see you there!

6-25-12 (post meeting)
both blindly and quickly, i put my hair in a bun on the top of my head. a 3pm ritual, my eyelids became heavy as excel sheets served as a wall between my day and my evening. and then, as i shifted my glasses to the bridge of my nose, i decided that an email to you could serve as my break. i take a sip of cool water from an old panera coffee mug to get me started. and now, i'll let my fingers dance over the keys while i tell you how much of a pleasure it was to have met you. 

i'm sure most people in my life have grown sick of the stories i told them about the night under a green umbrella in grandview. mostly because it was genuinely refreshing to sit with someone who understood what it is i struggle with creatively, and how important it is for people like you, and perhaps like me, to express it. 

to sit.
to sip.
to discuss likes and wants without needing to explain why or what.
it was all so appreciated. truly.

as for progress, i've set up a new email address and tumblr account to house all of my colors, shapes and letters. i'm running with your advice, and not even stopping to be sure my shoes are tied. i hope to spend some time in the next couple of weeks really working on a basic design and text to begin. i work well with deadlines and hope that in a month or so i can finally write to you once again, only this time wearing the "blogger" label. 

to the blogger who was kind enough to remember my birthday,

I'm going on my eighth day of being 27. and before the first of those days neared, i read an article in the 
new york times. what i remember most from the paragraphs of words, was sehnsucht, which translates as "addictive yearning." i read further, and almost like wiping a window covered in steam from the kitchen, something became clear to me.

my unacknowledged desire to want. and my constant reach for something i couldn't find. 

maybe this unacknowledged desire was my longing for tangible aesthetics (clothes, the cross-shoulder leather bag, a patterned rug that was born to live in my short north living room), but perhaps it was a strong desire of a lifestyle that i lacked. the blogs i read (present company's excluded), have stayed alive by breathing photos of beautiful girls in alleyways; of quiet mornings in a parisian coffee shop with the token cappuccino; of friends drinking wine and beer on a brooklyn rooftop that's beautifully urban. all of these images had one thing in common - none of them were my reality. 

i would often begin my mornings with coffee and blogs. by lunch i would think my life was only a shadow of something i truly wanted. was it a bigger city that i longed for? maybe it was simply a candid photo taken of me and sean laughing on a night i wore my signature red lipstick. in any case, i became obsessed with clicking through the most beautiful people on the internet trying to find what i believed would make me feel complete and brave. pretty and purposeful. 

i wasn't happy. i felt lost and unsure. and then, there it was. sehnsucht. 

i would like a place to store my creativity; my words; those photos i flag as inspiration to cook, dress, decorate. although leafing through my google reader is still seemingly routine, i spend little time wanting what someone else has, and enjoying what i already do. for me, it's been a step back from my own crippling thoughts of what should be and welcoming what already is. because of this, i've decided against beginning my own blog. 

not all blogs fall under the sehnsuct umbrella, however. i still flag inspiring posts. without them, how would i know to hang a set of antlers on my wall next to a $3 mirror from a local flea market? how could i have possibly known that neon tennis shoes and the perfect bag was what i craved for weekend strolls (a nod to your most recent post)?

your encouragement has been nothing short of necessary. perhaps you were the nudge i needed to reintroduce myself to writing. over beers and hummus i met someone in columbus ohio who inspires me through her postings and makes me feel like knowing your personal style is not a task, but enjoyment. that living in ol' columbus town is not small, but a welcomed challenged to create your own urban lifestyle.

your style friend, and follower,

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Thank you for reading; and allowing me to share something someone that really made me think.  The last email struck such a cord with me.  To be honest, like m, I constantly struggle with comparing myself to others.  I recently had a good friend say something to me about my lack of confidence lately... and when I thought about it, sadly, I think it has a lot to do with reading blogs.  Isn't that horrible?  I think sometimes it's hard to read blogs written by beautiful women, who have beautiful families, who are given clothes and things by sponsors, and who appear to have perfect lives...  and to remember that their lives are not perfect.  And it's hard to not compare yourself or your life to theirs.  Or at least it's hard for me... but I'm trying to stop.  

I named my blog Lovely + Rust for many reasons.  The name represents my love for lovely things... beautiful things, as well as my love for vintage and history.  And the name of my future vintage shop (which is now a reality; although, I'm having a hard time finding time for it).  But, the name was also supposed to represent appreciating the good and the bad in life.  You stumble across that piece at a flea market that is lovely and rusty all at once... and it's perfect because it's imperfect, and it has so much history.  And I think life is a lot like that.  There is beauty in imperfection, and no one has a perfect life.  Sometimes I think we all forget that.  

Thank you, m, for writing such beautiful emails and being so honest.  In asking for my help, you inspired me in turn.  Especially now, when I'm struggling with finding time to blog, it's so nice to know there are people reading and silently pushing me along.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends!  


  1. I loved this post!!!! Thanks for sharing it!

  2. Thank you so much for sharing these beautiful words, these thoughts have been occupying my mornings too. Spot on.

    1. Thank you so much for saying that. I really appreciate it!! xo

  3. I took the time to stop for a moment and read the entire post. I'm so glad I did. I, like you, and possibly so many others, struggle with comparing myself, my life, and my family to the perfection I read and see on blogs everywhere. It is hard. Oh so hard! So thank you. Thank you to you and "m" for your honesty and for sharing thoughts that make us vulnerable but finally true to ourselves. xoxo

    1. Brenda, that means a lot to me. Thank you for taking the time to comment. I always love hearing from you :)