Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock?

Hey! Hey guys, it's me! Your patron saint of practicality and poise, who wears shorts in negative temperatures and takes outfit photos in public restrooms!



(High-fashion cuticle scrutiny.)



(High-fashion pit check, complete with high-fashion ginger roots that can't be tamed/saved/blamed/changed/tamed.)

Celebrating New York fashion week with a vintage fur coat, Anthro cropped sweatshirt and Zara high-waisted pleated shorts. There's a reason I'm not your patron saint of dating.

I'd like to introduce you to a new friend.



His name is Henry.





He's...rather mesmerizing.



And almost as photogenic as I am.

As a devoted Potter fanatic, I've always had a sneaking suspicion that my patronus would be a peacock. Vain. Ostentatious. And a little bit too much. When I spotted this ring in Aldo Accessories a few weeks ago, I knew it needed a new home on my finger. Even if it meant forcing a harassed sales associate to dig through backstock to find a ring sized small enough to fit my freakish baby hands.

Whatever. I work retail. I know full well that downtime is the enemy. She was secretly thrilled.

Aldo also carries an eagle (for all you Philadelphia fans out there!) and a goldfish (for all you new Pisces out there! EH? EH?). I'm just happy the flash panic over the "new zodiac" has subsided, as no one affected is old enough to so much as bang out a dramatic Facebook status/we all know I would have stubbornly stayed a Taurus anyway. Speaking of Facebook, here's a current event I'm much more concerned with: did anyone else notice that Zuck and his minions have changed the "Remove from Friends" button? It now reads "Unfriend." EW. WHAT. WHY. EW. I've always said "Defriend." I feel like my creative liberties concerning Facebook terminology have been yanked out from under me, right along with unique interests and the little box under my photo (may it rest in peace). Salt, meet wound.

Now enjoy a "did-she-just-say-what-I-think-she-just-said?" jam from girlcrush K. Perr to start your Wednesday off on the right...feather. (Note: I had to remove the mp3 I had originally posted after receiving a scary copyright infringement e-mail from Blogger. Turns out K. Perr and her people are really on top of things. Sorry!)

Fake it 'til you make it.

I have an exceptionally low tolerance for things that are fake. Fake people, fake Christmas trees, fake designer handbags, fake orgasms (don't be a quitter. You're only cheating yourself), fake conversations. You get the picture. With the exception of faux fur and the occasional diet Coke, I pride myself on only engaging in those pleasures in life that are 100% gin-u-wine.

Then, at an undisclosed point in the past week, my blog's title became wildly inaccurate.



And I joined the mighty legions of the bottle brunettes.

I know my ginger locks were rare and supposedly enviable. But they had been rare and enviable for upward of 21 years when I finally decided to do what I've been talking about since my junior year of high school and sample life as a sultry brownie. I've gotta say, guys: I don't know if I can ever go back. Ginger prejudice is real, y'all, and I didn't even know it until I was no longer on the receiving end. Strangers understand my sarcastic jokes better now that I'm a brunette. I get hit on less (in a good way). I no longer have to subconsciously match my clothes to my hair. This is the Em Aub Rob you're looking at for the foreseeable future, so you had better get used to it.

So here's the pressing issue: what shall I re-christen my blog?! La Vie en Chestnut? La Vie en Cinnamon? La Vie en Ginger[bread]? Sound off in the comments, please! I'm desperate for suggestions from minds more clever than my own.









Yesterday's Thanksgiving came hot on the heels of one hell of a fall. The past few months have tested me in ways I never imagined possible, but they have also taught me more about priorities and friendship and the strength of my own character than I could have hoped to glean from less trying times. As I sat down to consider my many blessings yesterday - family, friends, this vintage Ferragamo sweater I snapped up for less than the price of a Whole Foods grocery run - I was reminded to be thankful for the eternal possibility of change. Be it a new hair color, a paradigm shift or simply a switch in your daily coffee order, sometimes a new you can help you feel more like your old self than ever. And like all the best things in life, it doesn't cost a penny.



Sweater: Salvatore Ferragamo.
Dress: I Love H81.
Tights: L'Eggs.
Shoes: Zara.
Headband: Aldo.
Earrings: H&M.