These hips don't lie.

I have been on the hunt for a dress in preparation of the bridal shower my aunts are hosting in Mexico next month. It's been a bit of a struggle since stores have been phasing out their winter fashion and the new spring lines haven't really captured what I had in mind. It wasn't until this afternoon that I found the perfect dress: it was within the budget I'd mentally set. It had the sweet, elegant, feminine lines I was envisioning and best of all, I felt like a million bucks in it.

This evening, I came home eager to show the dress off to my mom. I slipped into my necessary undergarments and carefully attempted to step into the dress ready to walk the "Roxana Runway". But, there was a glitch. In the store I had been able to step in and easily coax it to zip. In my room, it was a completely different story. 

For starters, there was no way I was going to be able to pull it up over my hips without busting a seam. Instead I slipped it over my head and had to gently/frustratingly tug it down in place. As I huffed and puffed, I attempted to snap the hook on the side so as to begin the upward journey of the zipper. The fabric refused to come together. After one more attempt, I stopped and frowned: there was no way the dress I had just tried on hours before did not fit. Or could it? I was beginning to regret my three slices of margherita pizza and chocolate truffle cupcake earlier that afternoon...


In a sweat, I hurriedly untangled myself from within the tight confines of the dress and almost hurled it across the room. Before succumbing to a tantrum, I took a deep breath and angrily looked at the size label stitched inside the dress-

Somehow the girls at the store had taken the dress I had in the dressing room and mixed it up with a zero! As realization (and relief) dawned, I realized two things: 

One, somehow I managed to squeeze myself into a zero. A feat I am oddly proud of. That I was unable to zip it up is not an issue I want to contemplate. Allow me my small victory of unbusted seams, please.


Two, the panic that settled in the moment the dress did not close has me all the more determined to hit hot yoga and hit it hard. I know a size 0 is a size I can never aspire to (hello Latin curves!) The cupcake and pizza were absolutely delicious (and something I will never deny myself) but it was a reminder that I cannot let myself lax into overindulgence either. 

TX Wears Prada

After five years of patiently awaiting, I finally got to visit Prada Marfa. Inside were beautiful leather handbags and elegant pumps. It was window shopping at its finest. For those of you who would someday like to visit, I have a few bits of advice:


. fill up your tank before leaving Marfa, TX because the 35+ miles to the store has you driving past Valentine, TX. A town that has two defunct gas stations. We learned this the hard way. A big cyber shout out to Sam who was kind enough to share his cell phone number with us in case our car sputtered out from a lack of gasoline. 


. go twice. Once during the day & the other when the sun is coming down. I wish I'd seen it in both lights. Especially since the artists who put together the piece have the store lit up at night. 


Otherwise, keep on shopping!

I love being a girl.

While Christmas shopping, I couldn't help but fall in love with the following pieces:

A fabulously gawdy picture frame that says, "girl!". I love sparkles.

How cute is this little note card? Vitamin C, courtesy of a sweet note.

Oh, Kate Spade, how I love thee. If only my paycheck could afford you at full price.

The color & the daintiness of this necklace has me mentally scanning all the outfits I could pair this with.

I have the perfect belt. I have not one, not two but rather three pairs of shoes that would look smashing with this gorgeous dress. And were I to invest in the necklace mentioned above; I would have my Christmas/New Years/MLK outfit complete.

A girl can dream...