My cousin's tattoo

You might notice my recent absence from the blog and belated, succinct reviews of Cape Town Fashion Week. I've been dealing with a personal tragedy within my family. My beautiful and feisty aunt, my second mother, recently passed away without warning. When you're experiencing grief, it's ok to feel like you're in a deep hole you can't climb out of. You might want black-out curtains and sleeping pills until the world ends. Everyone goes through hopelessness sometimes; feeling a significant void. But, somewhere within yourself, you will find hope again. You will make yourself a ladder, you will open the curtains and you will flush the pills.

The mourning process perhaps doesn't ever end, it just changes. I don't think there is such a thing a closure, you will always yearn for more time with someone, more hugs, more laughter. I look at life as a learning process and maybe, once we learn our lessons, we transition, we leave. We go somewhere else where our energy finds a new realm or parallel universe. The universe is infinite, filled with possibilities and probabilities we cannot prove or disprove. Since life is so short and fragile, it's best to seek out as much happiness as we can, to continue to live instead of surrendering to a half-life. 

My aunt had many adventures, she danced, she laughed, she ran away from boys chasing her, she lived in Beverly Hills, she broke her platform heels, she watched her beautiful daughters flourish and she loved with all her heart. So if she ever taught me something, it is to really live. To go up to a stranger and kiss them, to sing loudly with my cousins so we look stupid, to wear the insane shoes. Life is a special occasion, don't wait for the elusive "moment" to come up, make it instead. Drink the expensive champagne, use the good china, dance when something amazing happens and laugh with your entire body.  

Auntie Lynnie was one of my biggest supporters. She used to check my blog daily and talk to me about everything, from conspiracy theories to Michael Kors bags (she wasn't a fan). She would constantly tell me how proud she was of me. So when we meet again, Auntie Lynnie, I can't wait to catch up. Until then, myself, your daughters and our family are going to really live so be prepared, we're all going to have a lot to talk about. Oh and Lynnie, when I get that Break the Bank progressive, I'm going to know who was behind it.

 My brother with my father in his go-to look.