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Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Someday's Lovin Roadtrip through Portugal feat. Magic Quiver Surf Lodge

Someday's Lovin Like A Melody Dress

Someday's Lovin' Daybreak Slip Dress + Cherry Nights Playsuit + Like A Melody Dress
Someday's Lovin' Cherry Nights Playsuit

Someday's Lovin Burnt Ridge Swim

Someday's Lovin' Daybreak Slip Dress
Someday's Lovin' Daybreak Slip Dress

Woven Palm Slides / Wild Moon Collection Vintage Denim

Someday's Lovin Burnt Ridge Triangle Top
Someday's Lovin Evening Sun Wrap Dress

Gloria Steinam writes in her book titled, My Life On the Road, "I always thought of my road life as temporary, assuming that one day I would grow up and settle down. Now I realized that for me, the road was permanent, and settling down was temporary. Traveling had created my nonroad life, not the other way around."

Reading these words from bed this morning, I couldn't help but resonate deeply as I ignored my half unpacked suitcase strewn across the floor of my childhood bedroom, taunting me from the corner of my eye. My life has become such a constellation of map push pins that even the homebase of a blog has become a foundation from which to push off and explore. Freelance writing, immersive travel and leading retreats have been satiating my endless hunger for the new and exciting, a shameless craving that is as one with me as my wavy hair or my dark brown eyes or my strange sense of humor.

But to return to this digital home is a gift, and to share my experience on the road in Portugal like reliving a dream.

I will never forget the moment I arrived in Ericeira. Having been scooped up from the airport by two local friends, Reny and Miki, and sachéd up the coast, I spent the first hour or two gazing out the window watching Portugal whiz past. As we transitioned from highways to alleyways, it was the details of the architecture that first grasped my attention; cobblestone streets, bright white and blue buildings, intricately painted tiles, Spanish roofing. With the sun shining brightly and the minutes passing quickly, I tried to stay focused on the task at hand: the same priority as always when arriving to a new locale. SURF. 

After many waves shared and surviving my first poler plunge of the season, we ate lunch on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Wine glasses were filled to the brim as smells of fresh seafood wafted all around us. We made plans to explore the coast to find more surf and see the capital of Lisbon, a city rich with culture, art, music and more. I was thrilled to be in this nook of Europe with such rich history and remarkable cultural quirks.

Little did I know my mind was to be blown by our accommodation while stationary. Magic Quiver Surf Lodge is a unique, independently owned dwelling, inspired by the nomadic spirit of a traveler and the great Atlantic, resting along the majestic Portuguese Coast, designed as a beach escape. With a name that says it all, every guest has access to a plethora of hand crafted surfboards shaped all over the globe. From twin fins to quad fins to midlengths and logs, there is no shortage of artisan shapes for every surfer to ride or drool over, whichever you please. (I did both.) Our hosts were warm and welcoming and our rooms the same. Natural light floods in from the windows and terraces, artwork and photography covering the walls, books and magazines stacked on every table. It is a literal surfer's paradise where celebration of our watery pastime is transformed into a reverent, artful experience, curated for the true soul surfer. Breakfast was served every morning with a smile by Jack the Irish nomad, a beginner to the sport and a frother to the fullest. He set the tone as we prepared to explore each day with wide eyes and eager enthusiasm.

The week unfolded with constant surprises. With a suitcase full of Someday's Lovin' there was an adventure for every outfit. Friends from afar Carly and Nick arrived and together we traveled the coast. Witnessing pumping surf in Peniche and desert windstorms in Guincho, we caught the sunrise in Sāo Jāo and sunset in Cascais. We danced to music pouring from the windows, admired street art graffiti, had cocktails on rooftop bars and made friends for a lifetime. 

I can't thank our local friends and comrades at Magic Quiver enough for such a spectacular guide to such a stunning stretch of coastline. It's through these experiences of travel that I realize why I never want to go home -- the authenticity of connection on the road leaves you open and wanting more, seeing every day as a gift, with deeper understanding and a patient observance of what's to come next.


To shop the Someday's Lovin Collection click the links below each photo


Follow along on the adventures of Magic Quiver Lodge on Insta!

Friday, July 7, 2017

Someday's Lovin' x Nisolo Shoes

Dresses + Swim / Someday's Lovin | Shoes / Nisolo

Somedays you just want to love yourself more than anyone else.
You want to be selfish and secluded,
Spoiled with decadent treats, cute outfits and sunset cocktails.
Somedays you want to just forget about all the dire current affairs, call in sick and
and skinny dip, and sing at the top of your lungs, and laugh until your cheeks hurt.
Somedays you might just want to feel free to give yourself all that love and attention you give
so many people so much of the time.
And I say somedays, or all days, 
that's just fine.


Just thinking today about L O V E - how much we give away to other people but so often forget to give to ourselves. For me, I love doing both. Giving love to myself first fills the cup for me to be able to pour from in order to help those I love. And even those I don't love, people I don't even know. Because when everything you do comes from a place of love, you don't just have love or give love, you start living love, being love.

Supporting brands that support others is one of my favorite ways of spreading love. Nisolo shoes have a vision where success is based on more than just offering the cheapest price--a direction that not only values exceptional design, but the producer and the planet just as much as the end consumer. Social impact is a priority as they work to support leather artisans around the globe, paying more than fair wages, create healthy working environments, and humbly striving to learn from the craftsman and women who have knowledge spanning decades. Their designs are chic, classic, and insanely comfortable, made to last a lifetime. When I wear them I feel sexy and fun, and connected to the product in a way that's so much more personal. I drool over all their designs as much as their brand ethos! Check out all their beautiful products at Nisolo.com and remember that when you love yourself first, you become love. And that's never a bad thing. <3 p="">

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Cuban Dreams Realized // A Surf Trip to Find My Roots

My Grandmother's nickname for me is "Gitanita." In Spanish that means, "little gypsy." As a surfer, I've always loved to travel in search of waves, but three years ago, I quit my job, sold all my belongings, and said goodbye to my closest friends and family for a chance to live my dream life filled with adventure instead of things. At 89, this was hard for my Grandma to swallow. But over time the lectures faded as she saw how I thrived in the unexpected, sought out different cultures and rituals, and craved immersion in the unfamiliar.  She's never been one to sugar-coat, so my chats with her after a long stint away are some of my favorites. She loves to hear whether or not the trip was what I expected, what went wrong, how I fixed it…the tough stuff. Because if anyone knew the struggles and sacrifices it takes to make a dream a reality, it's my Grandmother. Or as I call her, my Ita.

In 1961 my Grandparents performed what I honor as an outrageous act of faith and courage; sending their four eldest children on a plane to the U.S. with nothing more than a kiss and a blessing. Three years were spent making innumerable attempts to leave the country by every means of transportation possible. Finally, in 1964, they were able to legally and safely travel abroad where they reunited with the children who had been split across America. When they finally arrived, my 7-year old mother didn't even recognize her siblings. The thought of going back, for her, has been unimaginable. For me, it has been a lifelong obsession.

And so 50 years later, I arrived solo with a ten ft. board bag and childhood stories held sacred, both hesitant and hungry for the adventure alongside 6 guys for Surfer Magazine. My taxi drive through Havana set the stage for a beautifully dilapidated city scene, with tropical foliage, congregations on corners, and music pouring from rustic apartment windows. Challenges presented themselves rapidly, however, from victory-at-sea surf breaking over jagged rock and fire coral, to a 36 hour, exhaust-filled road trip on rugged Cuban highways, to sleepless nights in search of waves we could not find. This was far from my romanticized vision of surfing in my mother's home country, but an opportunity to overcome adversity is one I have learned to accept with the grace of my ancestors. And so we thrived in our moments of sacrifice, while sleeping in the sand, dancing late into the night, or sneaking atop the bus to ride beneath the stars. Without chaos there is no passion, and without passion there is no dream. We were swimming in it all.

Cuba, for me, was more than just manifesting a lifelong vision. It meant realizing myself as my own "dream girl," a woman who can hang with the boys, surf in challenging conditions, embrace a culture regardless of my wounded ties or the divides and pain in its history, endure, be brave, laugh, get angry, stand my ground, empathize, bounce back, let go, love, forgive and move beyond my comfort zone. But it is with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that echoes through me that I reflect on the sacrifices of my trip, and that is for my Grandmother. Because without her dreams, struggles, and will to prevail, I would never be her "Gitanita

Saturday, March 11, 2017

The Bright Side of Morocco

Wetsuits/ Kassia Surf + Amuse Society

Top / Free People | Pants / Amuse Society | Hat / Brixton

As I stood in the arrivals terminal at Agadir airport, I was asked a question that abruptly interrupted my contemplative daze, soaking in the elements, absorbing this unfamiliar desert landscape. “Would you like a cigarette?” A tall, thin, dark-skinned man peered at me inquisitively. Normally I would answer with disgust, but with a strange excitement I politely declined. Finally I had arrived to one of my life-long dream destinations and deep down, the lonestar, no-rules approach to living was exactly what I envisioned of the people in this rugged territory. We chatted briefly and after we bid farewell, I walked towards my taxi and whispered to myself, “Welcome to Morocco.”
Time in the desert moves at a different pace than the rest of the world, a blessing and a curse depending on which side of the coin you choose to hold against your palm. Traffic zips past at frightening speeds while the midday sun burns through the sky at a snail’s pace. My first encounter with this challenge was when the airline lost my luggage — 3 days without surfboards while the waves were pumping; head high swell, no wind, sun shining bright. Each hour I went without felt like an eternity, and I struggled with seeing the bright side of this misfortune. But Morocco has this incredible way of giving you a second chance to make the right move or find another path, and so I decided to use it as an opportunity to enjoy the other aspects of my surroundings. Amouage Surf + Yoga Hotel kept me plenty busy — their guides took me on afternoon excursions to exotic markets and ancient cities. We hiked at sunset, practicing yoga while brilliant colors set the sky on fire as the sun tucked behind the horizon. From every postcard corner you turn, there’s something to discover — from the warm, inner blanket of the local mint tea to the brilliant colored tile and architecture at every glance. 
Wetsuits/ Kassia Surf

Pants + Top / Free People

Swim / Free People
Board + Tee / Bing Surfboards

When my boards finally arrived, an unexpected bump in swell had me in the water until the stars came out. The taste of my first sunset surf was sweeter than I could have ever imagined, leaving me with the question every traveller asks themselves — would I have had as much fun if everything had gone right? In Morocco the answer is simple: the lonestar, no rules approach must be embraced at full accord, and if you find the patience to look at the bright side in a Moroccan desert, the rewards are that of a dream. Below are my Morocco musts for anyone looking to take on this dream destination:

Top + Jeans / Amuse Society

Pants + Top / Free People

Where to: 

Stay — Taghazout is a small but buzzing little surf town on the southwestern coast of Morocco, with everything you want to experience from North Africa with a full coastal vibe. Surf Maroc is a one-stop shop offering an array of accommodations based on the experience you crave. Between Taghazout Villa (an upscale hostel experience), Villa Mandala (a week long yoga/surf retreat house) or Amouage (a surf + yoga boutique hotel) you can experience the best of surf, yoga and ambiance that this quaint Moroccan town has to offer, at any budget. 
Surf — The best part of Surf Maroc? The surf guides and group tours offered with your stay. Based on your skill level, you can join a group or get a private guide to take you to any kind of wave you want, from longboard peelers at Imessouane to overhead barrels at Anchor Point. There’s a huge variety along this stretch of coast so I recommend getting a guide to show you the in’s and out’s.
Shop — Taghazout hosts an epic little market on Wednesdays, but the Agadir Market occurs every day and has a ton to offer as well. Also, do NOT leave Morocco without checking out Essaouria, a town adored by Jimi Hendrix when he visited in the 1970’s with a cafe created in his honor. Winding cobblestone streets and back alleys are lined with the most incredible clothes, bags, lanterns, leather crafts, crystals, homegoods….the list goes on. Worth the couple hour drive from Tag, for sure! ;)
See — Go to Paradise Valley and hike into a gorgeous, palm tree-lined canyon and have tajine by the river. Wander around Tag and drink local mint tea by the water, watching the fisherman go out on their colorful boats. Go to happy hour on Moroccan Night at Amouage and watch authentic drumming and dance as the sun sets in the most beautiful ombre of fiery hues you’ll ever see. Then take yoga at sunrise on the rooftop of the hotel or get a traditional Hammam massage to fight off the jet lag. There’s really no wrong way to experience Morocco, so just get there (with patience) and the rest will unfold in imperfect perfection!