CLIENTS
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PROJECTS
SAMPLE: I save things. My sister calls me a “hoarder-in-waiting,” but I prefer “sentimental minimalist with mild kleptomania.” And honestly? That feels thematically on point for someone who clings to small, oddly specific comforts while the world spirals like a toilet flush—finding the perfect café table with just the right lighting, sitting in the same seat at the movies like it’s reserved by divine right, grabbing a magazine from the back of the rack because it hasn’t been manhandled by strangers, and that quiet, almost spiritual joy when a friend cancels plans. Honestly? Creature comforts and pilfered silverware might be all that’s standing between me and total emotional collapse.
Like most people, my home is less a reflection of personal style and more a chaotic museum of life’s leftovers. I didn’t choose a mismatched aesthetic so much as it chose me—one purloined fork at a time.
Like most people, my home is less a reflection of personal style and more a chaotic museum of life’s leftovers. I didn’t choose a mismatched aesthetic so much as it chose me—one purloined fork at a time.
SAMPLE: So when, one day I received an audition call to play Mark Wahlberg’s wife in the movie about a footballer who made a big comeback after “beating the odds” to play for the Philadelphia Eagles in 1976, I thought this is it. This is my big break. My one shot (like the song in Hamilton) and I was going to nail it. The role was for Mark Wahlberg’s first wife; on IMDB it’s the 17th cast member down the page, but the scene was meaty: a husband/wife argument of dramatic proportions where my shiny new theatre degree would surely be put to test.
I imagined entering the huge Disney lot gates with the classic swirly font and a black silhouette of Mickey Mouse with pride, checking my name against the clipboard list held by a security guard in a tiny toll-booth-like office when I would meet the top A-list casting directors to play Marky Mark slash Calvin Klein Underwear Guy’s WIFE! This was a huge audition. The big one. The biggest one.
In what can only be described as a grand act of poor life choices, I decided to get a haircut the day before my big audition. And because I was broke, I went to a beauty school—because nothing says high stakes like trusting a trembling 19-year-old with scissors.
As I sat there, draped in a sad, flimsy black cape that felt more like a funeral shroud for my dignity, I uttered the fateful words: “I don’t know… just do whatever you want!”
Can we say SELF-SABOTAGE?!
What they gave me? Let’s just say it was business in the front, a full-blown identity crisis in the back.
I imagined entering the huge Disney lot gates with the classic swirly font and a black silhouette of Mickey Mouse with pride, checking my name against the clipboard list held by a security guard in a tiny toll-booth-like office when I would meet the top A-list casting directors to play Marky Mark slash Calvin Klein Underwear Guy’s WIFE! This was a huge audition. The big one. The biggest one.
In what can only be described as a grand act of poor life choices, I decided to get a haircut the day before my big audition. And because I was broke, I went to a beauty school—because nothing says high stakes like trusting a trembling 19-year-old with scissors.
As I sat there, draped in a sad, flimsy black cape that felt more like a funeral shroud for my dignity, I uttered the fateful words: “I don’t know… just do whatever you want!”
Can we say SELF-SABOTAGE?!
What they gave me? Let’s just say it was business in the front, a full-blown identity crisis in the back.
SAMPLE: Fast forward about twenty years. I was working at an Italian restaurant with a chef who made his own pot treats for the staff. I’m fairly certain the entire ‘back of house’ was perpetually high while slow-simmering our house bolognese sauce. If you’ve ever worked in the food and beverage industry, you know that sitting at the bar doing your books and tip-outs after a long shift requires an alcoholic beverage—strictly for medical reasons, of course.
But I started getting curious about the little pot gummies our chef sold for a few bucks a pop. Maybe I could get faded and tackle my books on just 10 calories instead of the 100 per shot. So, one night, I slipped him a fiver and got my hands on one of his adorable red gummies. It looked just like those cinnamon bears you’d grab at the local Quick-E-Mart.
On my next day off, around 6 p.m., I decided, ‘Let’s try this little bad boy.’ Remembering my previous encounter with edibles two decades ago, I played it safe and only bit off the head of the gummy bear.
About thirty minutes later, I started to feel funny—body-buzzing, high funny—but also, something unlocked within me. My inner stand-up comedian burst onto the scene. I was cracking jokes to my husband, who was laughing so hard he was crying and even spit-taking. I had a tight ten that would’ve made Chelsea Handler jealous! Creative puns, dark humor woven into absurd anecdotes, and hilariously simple (in my opinion) observations—I was on fire. But while my comedy game was soaring, my head felt like a helium balloon.
But I started getting curious about the little pot gummies our chef sold for a few bucks a pop. Maybe I could get faded and tackle my books on just 10 calories instead of the 100 per shot. So, one night, I slipped him a fiver and got my hands on one of his adorable red gummies. It looked just like those cinnamon bears you’d grab at the local Quick-E-Mart.
On my next day off, around 6 p.m., I decided, ‘Let’s try this little bad boy.’ Remembering my previous encounter with edibles two decades ago, I played it safe and only bit off the head of the gummy bear.
About thirty minutes later, I started to feel funny—body-buzzing, high funny—but also, something unlocked within me. My inner stand-up comedian burst onto the scene. I was cracking jokes to my husband, who was laughing so hard he was crying and even spit-taking. I had a tight ten that would’ve made Chelsea Handler jealous! Creative puns, dark humor woven into absurd anecdotes, and hilariously simple (in my opinion) observations—I was on fire. But while my comedy game was soaring, my head felt like a helium balloon.
This is a "tongue & cheek" style of apparel copy from a Snarky Character Voice per client's request
Women's Stadarfell Sports Jacket: 66 North : NeoShell®
Halló from the Hallgrimskirkja Church, the largest place of worship in Reykjavik. Church always makes me thirsty for wine. We'll have to find some Glögg along the way. Since we’re strolling today, we wore our NeoShell® Stadarfell Sports Jacket: the perfect city jacket with a mock neck and it's hoodless so my spa blow-out can be envied by all. Plus it keeps me warm without over-layering and has some stretch to it.
Halló from the Hallgrimskirkja Church, the largest place of worship in Reykjavik. Church always makes me thirsty for wine. We'll have to find some Glögg along the way. Since we’re strolling today, we wore our NeoShell® Stadarfell Sports Jacket: the perfect city jacket with a mock neck and it's hoodless so my spa blow-out can be envied by all. Plus it keeps me warm without over-layering and has some stretch to it.
Burton Snowboards :: Men's Burton Minturn Full-Zip Fleece :: 200 Series Fleece
Sometimes, pour moi, riding up to the mountain on the Ski-Doo after a fresh dusting of powder is like a Soul Douche. Tommas is très sportif (what? I just got my 12 crowns in Français on Duolingo). So he, of course, hobnobs with the snowboarding elite. Tommas was wearing Burton Minturn Full-Zip Fleece under his gear, which he adores because they had serious riders in mind when they designed it: Polartec® 200 series fitted this piece with panels under the arms and stretch cuffs to keep the snow out of the wrong places. It reminds me of Sally O’Malley: he can streyatch and keyick and he’s 50! My favorite event of the winter season is the cabin-mansion parties afterwards. We ran into a couple of Team Riders for Burton. Who knew one could “stomp a cab double cork” and throw back vodka shots in the same day?
Sometimes, pour moi, riding up to the mountain on the Ski-Doo after a fresh dusting of powder is like a Soul Douche. Tommas is très sportif (what? I just got my 12 crowns in Français on Duolingo). So he, of course, hobnobs with the snowboarding elite. Tommas was wearing Burton Minturn Full-Zip Fleece under his gear, which he adores because they had serious riders in mind when they designed it: Polartec® 200 series fitted this piece with panels under the arms and stretch cuffs to keep the snow out of the wrong places. It reminds me of Sally O’Malley: he can streyatch and keyick and he’s 50! My favorite event of the winter season is the cabin-mansion parties afterwards. We ran into a couple of Team Riders for Burton. Who knew one could “stomp a cab double cork” and throw back vodka shots in the same day?
Dudley Stephens :: Prospect Pullover :: Micro Series Fleece
Now that we’re in quarantine, we’ve taken athleisure up a notch to ATHLUXE with brand Dudley Stephens, which surprisingly delighted me.There’s something about old money that just reminds me of my Soul Home. These gals are polished and they dress for brunch -- such a warm respite from the smell of wet wool. I ordered the Prospect Pullover which has an oversized pop-up collar and a back-dip for fanny coverage plus this Micro Series Fleece is butter being cut with a hot knife, just supple to the touch! I feel so TOGETHER all of the sudden. I think tonight I’ll set my Calm App to the soundscape of rattling my “night-night” pills and fall asleep to that for a change.
Now that we’re in quarantine, we’ve taken athleisure up a notch to ATHLUXE with brand Dudley Stephens, which surprisingly delighted me.There’s something about old money that just reminds me of my Soul Home. These gals are polished and they dress for brunch -- such a warm respite from the smell of wet wool. I ordered the Prospect Pullover which has an oversized pop-up collar and a back-dip for fanny coverage plus this Micro Series Fleece is butter being cut with a hot knife, just supple to the touch! I feel so TOGETHER all of the sudden. I think tonight I’ll set my Calm App to the soundscape of rattling my “night-night” pills and fall asleep to that for a change.
