Maybe it is the fact that I am drawing near 27 years old and can still count the number of wines I have tasted on one hand. Maybe it is some secret, subconscious desire to cook with the imprudent bravery of Julia Childs, or to decorate with the timeless elegance of Martha Stewart. Maybe it is the untouched violet scarf hanging silent in my closet, longing to be worn to a quaint French cafe where the language of lovers dances on the lips of passers-by. Whatever the reason, I find myself wishing as of late for a deeper, more cultured experience of tastes, of sounds, of words, of life. This is the journey of a soul searching for sophistication. These are the confessions of an everyday girl, refined.


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