An Open Letter To Online Shopping.

Dear Online Shopping,

You’re pretty great. I mean who doesn’t love clothes you love at your doorstep in the blink of an eye. My appreciation only grows with the number of boxes that show up on the daily. 

But there’s one thing we have to talk about a little bit. Just a small complaint. Please don’t get mad. Here it goes.

It’s so hard to build a virutal wardrobe when sizing isn’t consistant between sites. There’s no way a size small from Brandy Melville is the same size small from Madewell. And well, it’s kind of frustrating to always have to play this guessing game.

And I know this is a tough problem to fix. But I feel like the illuminati of online retail can come together and settle on standard measurements for the world to follow. It’s not thaaaat difficult. Just one little meeting and it’s all over. Urban Outfitters, Topshop, J.Crew, you guys can spearhead this one, right?

Free returns TOTALLY help. Any site that isn’t free returns can kiss my fashion forward foot goodbye. Free shipping doesn’t hurt either, by the way. But maybe we can follow Birchbox’s lead and figure out a better system for finding the perfect piece. Or we could create a more understandable measurement guide. Something like “If you have the butt of Kim Kardashian but the arms of Karlie Kloss, this dress is probably for you.”

Like I said, you’re truly a life changing. Gotta say, slightly mad at you for putting brick-and-mortar on the fritz because I love a good rack hunt, but the best part of all of this is that you’re still maturing. Everyday there’s something new; from same day delivery to online exclusives, this is only the beginning and you have so much potential. 

So, let’s just fix this while you’re ahead. No pressure, but the fate of fashion’s future rests in your shopping cart. 


Stuck in my head: New Slang // The Shins
Snap it: Madewell, Tyson’s Corner mall

Headphones in…

Before I was ~cultured~, the only iTunes playlist that got any attention was, undeniably, my Taylor Swift collection. In between sessions of fangirling and building my shrine, I downloaded endless hours the pop-country crossover. It was part of my identity. I was Taylor Swift, Taylor Swift was me.

Let me set the scene for you and really let you grasp the scale of my dedication. I turned my room into a photo gallery, pasted her outfits on my mirror for inspiration, left sleepaway camp for her concert (1 of many), memorized her addresses (and took pictures outside when I visited), had fan pages, and blocked close friends on social media for criticizing her. Honestly, this list could go on, but let’s leave me with some dignity.

It wasn’t just her that I loved, it was the way her music made me feel that I fell in love with. Knowing all the words to a song is exciting. Knowing all the words to all the songs on every album is a sense of community. And it wasn’t until my senior year of high school, 6.5 years after the obsession started, that I realized other artists could make me feel the same way.

Discovering new sounds was incredible. Landmark Music Festival was a huge turning point for me, as was growing to love MC and the music he listened to. I’ve found some of my favorite music since then: Houndmouth, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, HAIM, Lorde. My transition from Swift to the streets (this is a reference to the college essay I wrote on her) marked my *true* maturity.

So while walking the Dover Downs at Firefly (a music festival) this past weekend the question that caught my eye was “what does music do for you?” And it took me a hot second to figure it out, but I think music has helped me grow and change and seek new opportunities. It’s taught me that you can always find a new passion, and it doesn’t have to replace an old one.

I’ll always be willing to trade an arm and a leg for another chance to stand stage side at Taylor’s concerts. It’s part of who I am and what I love. I just don’t need to wear an entire outfit with her face on it and talk to pictures of her anymore.

Wow, look at all this adultness. If you knew me between 2011-2015 you probably thought this day would never come. Well, same.


Stuck in my head: Sober II (Melodrama) // Lorde
Snap it: Firefly Music Festival

Chasing a Slice.

You might think you’ve had good pizza, but unless you’ve been to Pizzeria Beddia in the Fishtown district of Philly, you’re way off. Yesterday Elizabeth and Natalie and I hopped in the car in pursuit of America’s best named by Bon Appetit mag back in 2015. Little did I know I would also find the Instagram location of my dreams and enough murals to last me a lifetime.

A little background before we get into it: Pizzeria Beddia is only open 4 days a week from 5:30-10:30pm. The little hole in the wall has no sign; you’d totally walk right past it if you weren’t searching. They make only 40 pies a night, each cooked one at a time with love by the pizza guru himself, Joe Beddia. For more info, read the Bon Appetit article. It’ll make you drool, I promise.
P.S. We waited in line for two and a half hours and it was beyond worth it. 

We also made a stop at the Magic Gardens. This empty-lot-turned-mosic-wonderland currently occupies 80% of my camera roll and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Created by Isaiah Zagar, themes from his life, such as Latin-American culture and… nudity, run through the multi-leveled oasis like a journal. Be sure to ask about the history as you snap millions of pictures. 

Here’s my photo diary of the best way to celebrate Summer in the cheesesteak city.

Cheers to photo shoots and perfect pies. 

Pizzeria Beddia Cook Books

Let’s just say I went to bed with a food baby and the best memories. 


Stuck in my head: Run // COIN
Snap it: Philadelphia Magic Gardens

Passing Down the Pom Poms. 

Growing up with a sister is basically having a servant, a best friend, and a number one fan by your side constantly and endlessly. So it’s every little diva’s dream. Lucky for me, I didn’t just get a sister, I got Callie. There is no one more agreeable in the entire world than that girl. She played with all the ugly Barbies, ate all the burnt chicken nuggets, and still smiled like she was just handed the key to the world. 

My Dad always tells the story that right before she came home from the hospital, he sat me down and told me it was time to step into the big sister role. He claims I maturely adjusted my personality and it was a perfect fit. What I really think happened was I learned that by being around Callie I could get more attention. Nonetheless, we became glued at the hip. The Kit to my Kat. The green vegetable to whatever was for dinner. The Dinks to my Baby (our childhood stuffed animals).

As she’s matured over the years, out of her skulls and punk rock phase into a more classic middle school era, so much is exactly the same as the brown eyed baby that changed my life fourteen years ago. Same sense of humor that leaves you teary-eyed and hunched over. Same scary level of maturity that makes college kids forget she’s actually still in middle school. Same love for our family and commitment to making people happy. Our closeness is one of the reasons going to college was so difficult. It created so many holes in my life I didn’t realize she’d been filling. And what sucks is that I know this will never get easier, it’s just part of growing up and accepting change. 

I can only imagine it being hard to live in the shadow of an older sibling, yet Callie’s never been one to follow exact footsteps. When she started gymnastics years ago I really thought that was the end of her living my same adventures. And while she created her own memories and gained skill and strength that continuously shames me into the gym, I always wished for her to experience high school the way I did from the 50 yard line, poms in hand, team of amazing girls by my side. 

When Callie decided to pause her gymnastics career and tryout for Poms this year it was really everything I could’ve asked for. After such hardwork, I’m proud to say I’ll get to swap places with my best friend and cheer her on from the sidelines. Warning: I’ll probably be bawling my eyes out.

Callie, you have such a strong, positive energy to you and I can’t wait to see you bring this to everything you conquer in life. This post is sounding more like a Bat Mitzvah speech than a funny, lighthearted tribute to you, but you’ve been asking for a post and I definitely owe you one. I’ve never doubted your ability to succeed, and I can’t wait to see you make this your own. Love every second of it, even when it’s miserable and painful, because it’s over so fast. Every high V, every turn, every C-Jump. You’re in for such an unforgettable ride. I’m so grateful you get to live this part of my journey. 

No, I’m not crying. I’m just allergic to my sister growing up. 


Stuck in my head: Superbass // Nikki Minaj
Snap it: National Gallery of Art, DC

Coach Kaleigh, if you see this, Callie is much funnier than me, but PLEASE don’t like her better. I still need your love. 

LinkedIn-spiration Or…

Nothing passes the time like a good social media stalking. Doesn’t matter the platform, it’s always fun to see your stalkee grow up right before your eyes. Three years ago they were tweeting about how Miley just can’t put pants on and now it’s all climate change all the time. It’s a great way to get to know someone, without actually having to know someone. The best Instagram bio I’ve come across in all my years of internet watching: “I’ve probably stalked you too.” Amen, sister.

But one platform is so anti-stalk, it’s almost scary to lurk in the shadows. LinkedIn is one of my obsessions. To figure out if you’re old yet, update your profile until you reach Superstar Status. If that brings you immense joy your soul is probably an accomplished mom of four with a kick-ass career and always enough time to hit the gym. But lately, the idea that my social stalk victim would know I was tip-toeing around their page has stopped me from exploring my friends’ professional adventures. And I am genuinely interested in what cool steps people are taking to find their passions.

When I receive an email that someone was looking at my page it’s a two sided response. Half of me feels gratitude and excitement towards someone’s interest in me, and the other half is that annoying smirk emoji that sends “well, I am Superstar Status” vibes. During this whole internal monolouge I never even have creepy thoughts cross my mind. Whether they were using my profile as LinkedIn-spriation for building their own pages or just clicking a familiar face to grow their connection numbers, the act of looking at someone’s profile feels lighthearted, quick, and just enough detached. No fearing for your life, old man commenting on all my posts, there’s someone in my bushes worries here.

Overall, I think it’s about accepting that to build a strong network, it’s about engagement outside the walls of your house or the comfort of invisibility. LinkedIn promotes an environment to share your professional accomplishments, abilities, and ambitions. And if it’s worth stalking, it’s worth supporting. By being an active user on the platform you’re reaping more benefits than the silent Sally over there in the corner. You’re being present. You’re creating a personality to the profile picture. And more importantly you’re taking ownership of your curiousity.

There’s no shame in the social media stalking game, so get ready for a whole lot of looks.


Stuck in my head: Vowels // Capital Cities
Snap it: Union Market, DC

Losing All My Wisdom. 

Warning: This is just a quick, little life update. No profound epiphanies here. I promise.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past two days, it is that I really really hate being in pain but I really really love complaining about it. 

Yesterday I got my wisdom teeth out. Upon waking up from the surgery, I cried for about 45 minutes straight. I literally sat and bawled my eyes out. Now, most of this is probably due to the drugs, but I was also terrified because 1) I did not think I had a tongue and 2) I thought there was a dog stuck in a video camera on the ceiling. So yeah, probably the drugs.

I’m also always the first person to send an Evite out to my own (self) pity party. I mean, I can do anything I set my mind to, no matter how brutal or daunting a task, but I will shed some tears along the way. Call it a flaw in my character, call it actually showing emotion. You can choose. Bottom line, party will be at 1pm tomorrow. Please bring shmushy dairy-free food. I repeat. No dairy. Let’s just call the fact that I can’t even enjoy a good ice cream sundae during my recovery another reason this party is totally and completely necessary. Also btw, presents not mandatory, but required.

Luckily I have the best childhood babysitter/second mom in the world who has spoon fed me every meal so far and allowed me to be the drama queen of the century. A few other thank yous: the male nurse who held my hand and got me a blanket as I snotted, cried, and shivered in the doctors office, my dad for watching me drool a lot of blood & making sure I didn’t get it on the furniture, my boyfriend for not breaking up with me for being a diva (we’re talking Jenna Maroney 30 Rock vibes), my sister for telling me I’m the most hilarious chipmunk ever, and my mom for planning this whole torturous affair.

I would end this with some adorable videos of me singing my two favorite musicals, Hamilton and Les Mis, while extremely under the influence of anesthesia but we really don’t need that on the internet forever. And I forgot to save the Hamilton one. So life just got a whole lot more tragic. 


Stuck in my head: Reminder // The Weeknd
Snap it: Dolcezza Factory, DC (AKA What I want to eat right now. This second. Please.)

Saying Goodbye to SuperGreens.

If you even relatively know me, you would know that every other word out of my mouth is a praise for CAVA. From their genius social strategy to having hummus so delicious I drool at the thought of it, I have such a huge appreciation for the company. As the semester winds down, I want to reflect on the most valuable things I’ve learned being part of the CAVA marketing team.

  1. Your incredibly energized when you love what you do. Sure I only worked 12 hours a week this semester, but there was never a morning I couldn’t wait to get into the office. No  matter the task, it’s always easier knowing you’re doing it for a brand you believe in with people who believe in you.
  2. There’s no shame in double Crazy Feta. Never have I thought twice about grabbing a snack or going in for another bite of Harissa Nachos. The culture and appreciation for food at CAVA runs deep and it’s taught me to savor each bite, but also each memory. Food is more than being full, it’s a relationship builder and a uniter. I mean, how can you not make a friend over a side of falafel?
  3. Being surrounded by creative people is inspiringI can’t lie, the creativity from CAVA’s marketing team often leaves me speechless or rambling “I love it” like I’ve just found the perfect prom dress. But, seeing so much originality has opened me to the concept that there are no bad ideas and you shouldn’t be scared to speak up. And while some suggestions will inevitably get shot down, it’s about getting back up, tapping into your inspiration networks, and brainstorming again. It’s a challenge not to settle for simple, but I’m excited to start better utilizing my resources (aka Pinterest & Instagram Influencers) and break out of the mold years of school have built. It’s time to get out of the box.
  4. Everything I’ve done with the team has made me more dedicated to finding my professional edge. Each person is so talented and it’s inspiring to watch them all change the fast-casual industry with each new project. Between photo/video,  graphics,  customer service, and social content, it’s impossible to choose one avenue to praise above another. Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about my professional specialty. Sure, dedication and enthusiasm are noteworthy, but their not the driving forces of my future career. I’m scared to try new things, but I’m excited to explore more aspects of marketing and try to find my niche. Social content feels like it will always have my heart, but there are so many other sides of the field that I haven’t even begun to explore. Hiking boots on, this is going to be one long journey.
  5. Giving and receiving gratitude feels goodAfter every project, big or small, hour long or month long, someone was on the other side of it making sure my efforts were appreciated. And it always felt good to know that my hard work was giving someone else a little lighter of a load. I will never be able to write enough thank you notes for all the amazing projects I’ve done and things I’ve eaten this past semester, but the biggest one I want to express is for making me feel like part of the family. The Hummus to your Harissa. A snacktime soulmate.

So here’s to a bright future, exploring for the summer, and a semester that was so full of CAVA bowls I had to change my order 4 times.

Thank you endlessly.

Stuck in my head: My Body // Young the Giant
Snap it: Chinatown Cava