I’m an autumn girl. You can tell by the way my closet is fully stocked with sweaters, and my dresser full of tights and woolen socks—my shoe cabinet, full of boots. I crave the first touch of cold, which doesn’t come until early November here in Georgia. There is something about the way the leaves start to change the lines of the Blue Ridge and the way the animals start to run briskly after slow summer days of lounging to stay out of the southern heat.

   I imagine what makes that time of year so special, is that it only lasts a brief moment—right before the leaves plunge to the earth and the cold pushes everyone inside.

   Hot tea is a staple in my life. It reminds me of the fall—especially when I’m feeling really nostalgic for my sweater friends that I’ve packed away for the summer. This didn’t happen until last summer, on a trip where I went to Manhattan. One of my closest friends, Jacobi, and I, ventured across the island together to a restaurant that we had been longing to go to. It served tea, and neither of us really considered ourselves tea drinkers.

   I’ve never liked the taste of tea—which is often considered strange in the Deep South, where babies are given bottles of sweet tea, and it’s often the sole choice at formal gatherings. But I’d never tried hot tea before. There is something different about it. It has a history—a secret to tell, trapped in the spices.

   Tea is simple. It uncomplicates things. In the Chinese culture, tea is the upmost representation of humility and grace—something that a host would present to his guest. It humbles the drinker, and serves as a reminder that in the moment, there is nothing else more important that what you are doing. It warms you from the cold, and becomes a comfort when everything seems to be moving quickly—like the changing of seasons.

   I’ve got a lot of changes coming up within the next month, and I take solidity in knowing that not everything is as monstrous of an undertaking as I make it seem.


love notes

Dear Readers Friends,

It’s funny to say that Cass and Cole, our little blog, has a history. We aren’t talking about going back into your browser’s history, but more so along the lines of everything that this blog allowed us to explore the second semester of our freshman year up through the beginning of sophomore year, when we were both at Georgia Tech. It hasn’t been a terribly long time since then, only a little over two years, but we’ve done a lot of changing.

It started off as a way for us to keep track of our outfits, and share them with our friends who were always asking where we got everything--to finding inspiration through designers. At the end of the one-year point, it started to dwindle, until we, at times forgot our online diary of sorts, existed.

Now, as we both are about to turn 21, we’ve decided it is time for a comeback. We have a lot to share with you about everything that has happened in the two years that we’ve been missing, and we’re excited to take you along with us as we move through some exciting life milestones.

We’re changing the format a little—since we aren’t always within the same vicinity of each other as we were back then; but we hope that you will catch on pretty easily.




while your party is waiting

please enjoy the music while we mix up some posts for you...


(here's to the days we felt alive)

I'm so in love with my beautiful new shoes! On another note, identifying different types of yarn also provides me with a weird form of happiness.


summer breeze. winter feel.

minkpink summer 2010 collection. beauty at it's finest.

fuzzy eye, what is it that you seek?

Not a film junkie by any means, but I'm slowly learning, or my college girl budget is quickly draining, whichever finishes this artistic streak first. Learning how to bind client wedding albums is infinitesimally more interesting with the help of virtual templates and do-all gadgets. Low points in the weather make for favored closet pieces (navy cardigan, pepto bismol pink cardigan, sea-green-foam-kinda-like-a-mermaid cardigan). A week spent cooking for two, and I'm left thankful the house hasn't gone up in smoke. Now, as we're still comfortably in the midst of coat season, it's about time I read a sappy novel and devour some spicy cheetos. Mmm.