aesop parsley seed facial cleanser

Aesop Parsley Seed Facial Cleanser

This past year my acne has been a little out of control. I wash my face twice a day, so it likely has to do with diet (I have the biggest sweet tooth). But whatever the cause, I’m on a personal mission to lock it down, so my recent beauty buys have all been skincare-related. If I can’t kick my sugar habit, I can at least battle this acne on the home front, right?

I think I’ll do a roundup of my all-time favorite cleansers in the near future, but currently I’m obsessed with the Aesop Parsley Seed Facial Cleanser. I’ve got combination skin—oily nose, normal to dry skin on the rest of my face—so the fine folks at the Aesop Fillmore location recommended the Parsley Seed Facial Cleanser.

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letting things go


It was during my freshman year of college that I found solace in fashion. Even though I drove home almost every weekend, I felt isolated and unhappy. I had no interest in my classes; I had only one friend at school whom I saw infrequently; I had nothing in common with my roommate and so we did not speak. I was still terrified of the city and never explored. It was a lonely time, and when I was not in class or doing homework, I found myself sitting in the café section of Borders poring over fashion magazines.

At Borders (RIP!), I did more than browse; I consumed. I bought dozens of magazines that I lugged back to my dorm room, flicking through them with a hunger for art, color, and excitement. I would spend hours looking at photographs of the runway shows on, and would feel elated when I recognized those clothes in editorials. Fashion magazines were bibles, gateways to a world in which I desperately wanted to take part. I collected them as tokens of my dedication to fashion. They were a record of my growth, of who I had become and (hopefully) where I was going. For years, I have kept those magazines on bookshelves, on nightstands, in cabinets, in boxes, in closets. But last week, I made a decision. I hauled out all of my magazines and stacked them up—three, maybe four hundred glossies, some that have been with me since high school—and, with my generous mother’s help, I threw them away. Happily.

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monday mood

short and sweet


Sex with Shakespeare: A Memoir by Jillian Keenan

Game of Thrones (yep, I’m very late to the party)

Check out…
this interview on Lit Hub with poet and novelist Ben Lerner on why people hate poetry so much (and why poetry should fight back) / this Washington Post op-ed about Justice Ginsberg and her damaging outspokenness over Trump / this critical look at how female comedians’ self-exposure may not necessarily be empowering over at The Guardian / this heartwarming article on Larry the Cat, David Cameron’s lazy mouse hunter


Getting this one out late today. Happy Monday all!

(Images 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5)


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monday mood

the necessity of stress


Listening to…
Devendra Banhart’s Mala, Andrew Bird’s Are You Serious

Inside Amy Schumer

Check out…
this Atlantic article on Elena Ferrante’s book covers, and how they encourage us to accept fiction by and about women / the benefits of silence on the brain, via Science of Us / the emotionally-charged artwork of Scottish artist Peter Howson


I’ve been quite anxious lately, which has led me to neglect my blog this past week. Take today, for example: I felt so stressed that I considered crawling back under the covers. In my mind, the day was already a total loss, and it was only noon. Instead of giving in, however, I realized that my time was precious. I would be a fool if I wasted it by feeling sorry for myself.

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read this, read that


Welcome to “Read This, Read That,” where I invite friends, bloggers, and bibliophiles of all sorts to share some of their favorite books or writing with Mode and the Like. From novels and poems to cookbooks and art tomes, you’ll find a diverse selection of recommended reading in this feature.


The Folded Clock: A Diary by Heidi Julavits
recommended by Amelia

Heidi Julavits’s The Folded Clock: A Diary is one I keep recommending to my closest friends. This honest, reflective book had me alternating between laughing, crying, and nodding with recognition.

The diary format is an interesting deviation from a usual memoir, which it is not, except in tone. I found the subject matter relatable, but I also identify as a woman, a writer, and a fellow journaler. Plus she writes on topics that I soak up, like desire, relationships, motherhood, writing, self-doubt, anxiety, gender, interior design, and that impulse to Google everyone you meet. So this book for me felt both current and timeless, and time lapsed in a cohesive way for me.

It was brave of Julavits to collect and publish these journal entries for public consumption. When I finished the book, it felt as if I’d embarked on a really significant new relationship or met a dear new friend—the fun, spontaneous kind that has a fire in her.

The prose parcels out the kind of intimacy that normally takes years of trust and shared experience to forge—only without the red-wine hangover or that crippling self-doubt loop of “did I say too much?”

A quote I liked from this book, which I plan to revisit in the years to come: “I reread books to measure my degree of difference from myself.”



San Francisco-based writer Amelia Kuehn takes her coffee black and her yoga hot. She has a big heart and a small dog.

Would you like to contribute to “Read This, Read That”? Send me an e-mail.

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