Tag Archives: dating

Perhaps, perhaps, perrrrhaps

13 Jan

It’s no secret that I’ve always been (and still am) far from cool.

Not so much in the “I’m so academically advanced and my IQ is sky high” category, but more in the “I’m socially awkward and have a hard time carrying on conversations with members of the opposite sex” category.

I’m working on it, slowly but surely, but last night was a classic example of Awkward Kayla.

So, I’d gone on a date with a nice country-ish guy, but quite frankly, I wasn’t feeling it on The Chic Teach end of things.  At least the food was positively sublime (vegan comfort food, FTW!) and the in house DJ was spinning the most bizarre, psychedelic 70s tunes this side of Portland.  But alas, the stars were not aligning.  An hour into it, I used all my willpower to not check my watch, cell phone, or take repeated trips to the bathroom for a mental break.

Yeah.  Yikes.

At the end of our date, and multiple yawns followed by, “Man, I’m SO TIRED.  Long day!”, he got the check and we left.  As we walked outside in the blustery Kansas City night, and he turned his head toward me.  “Well, this was a wonderful time.  I’d really love to do this again!”, he smiled.

I whipped my Eskimo hat up onto my head, and ever so awkwardly responded with, “Perhaps…perhaps…”.

He just cocked his head to the side and stared at me, obviously perplexed by my odd response.  I think it sounded like I was playing hard to get.  But really it was my deeply awkward way of saying, “No thanks!  But I am too uncomfortable to say ‘absolutely not’, so I’ll just quote 2/3 of a Cake song as my response instead.”

{vintage ruffled top: thrifted} {velvet blazer: thrifted}  {black skirt: F21 via thrift} {polka dot tights: Target} {Golden pumps: Aldo}  {rose gold watch: Michael Kors} 

See these pieces restyled here (click photo to see post):



Skate night, date night

30 Dec

If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you’ve probably gotten a smidge annoyed with my hyperbolic ranting and raving about ice skating:

“Literally all I want for Christmas this year is to go ice skating.  Is that so much to ask?”

I’m not sure if my desire stems from my youth, spent meandering around Crown Center with my thrifted muffler and hand-me-down wool coat, or if I still have remnants of my former obsession and idolization of my favorite Ukrainian ice princess.  But for the last several winters, it’s been like pulling teeth to get anyone to brave the ice rink for a little festive fun.

That was, until last night.

A very kind (and naïve) gentleman offered to take me down to the rink of all rinks.  You see, in downtown Kansas City, one of the meccas of all things Christmas is Crown Center.  The mayor’s Christmas tree rises high into the sky, wooden Nutcracker’s line the block, and colorful fountains dance to the sound of Holiday tunes.  It’s everything you’d want in a kitschy little holiday outing.

We laced our weathered skates and I quickly stood up, and just as quickly fell back down, overwhelmed with the  burgeoning excitement of years of built up anticipation.  Painstakingly, we crept awkwardly towards the ice, taking short, choppy movements over the bumpy, over-populated rink.

The night wore on, and we created nicknames and life stories for our fellow ice dancers.

There was Twilight, a young man who came to the rink by himself, complete with a 26-inch waist, perfectly quaffed hair, and a meticulously chiseled face.  We agreed he came to the rink to pick up chicks, and would most definitely be posting on Missed Connections later that night.

And finally, there was Hair Gel.  Hair Gel brought his very own pro-hockey skates, and weaved and wound through the crowd, itching to bust out the hockey stick and awe his fellow patrons with his signature slap-shot.  He laughed even louder than I did at my date’s jokes, and I’m convinced has a fully stocked closet of Axe.

Despite my winter-long daydream of gliding effortlessly across the ice, completing swirly twists and turns, even throwing in a single salchow,  I stuck to the basics.  If I’m honest, I didn’t want to scare my date with my gold medal winning, God given gift of falling flat on my bum.

{black denim: H & M} {high-five t-shirt: F21} {taupe leather boots: vintage}  {Native American earrings: Kohl’s} {rose gold watch: Michael Kors} {rings: family heirlooms}