“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.” ~ Georgia O’Keeffe
Reinvigorating this blog with an inspired summer theme, the sunny season revolved around everything coquette. With its palette of soft pinks, visions of delicate lace, and sumptuous sweets of cherries and strawberries, the coquette summer was a charming excuse to indulge in frills and frivolity following the heartache of last year. And in true coquette fashion, there was an underlying thread of golden melancholy that ran through even the prettiest of days… cue the music by Laufey – a nocturne of ‘Bewitched’ beauty, echoing the moment it all began.
“Summer afternoon ~ summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”~ Henry James
We started things extra early, because no one wanted to wait for summer to arrive. On June 1st, the coquette theme was revealed, and this site donned pink gingham and lace, while dreamy and moody music filled the lazy air. My first Stevie Nicks concert was so amazing, I promptly got tickets for a second show. (More from Stevie to come this fall.)
The muted color palette of a wildflower patch. Meanwhile, the gentle soundtrack of coquette music sounded like wind chimes in the distance. There were saucy moments too (just wait for the Olympic bulge links coming up) and first up is Orville Peck naked. (If you didn’t quite get enough, click on this pretty echo.)
And still there was melancholy, the way summer works its overheated restlessness on the soul. My heart was still broken, and when you lose your Dad it’s not a break that ever quite heals.
Life steps in to laugh at you when you veer into too much seriousness, and to that end I got my first colonoscopy. Spoiler alert: I fucking loved it. Well, I loved those drugs they gave me to go into sedation. And when all was said and done, my pink starfish was like brand new. That was all before summer even officially began.
Summer wouldn’t be summer without a few pool dips, and they were absolutely heavenly. Even the occasional rainy day didn’t dampen the power of the season – or the power of coquette.
Tom Daley hinted at the impending arrival of the Summer Olympics, and did it all in a Speedo.
“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
July dawned as summer climbed to its glorious apex. There was no beach vacation sadly, so we found solace by the pool. A few shirtless male celebrities worked their pectoral magic. Still, summer burned with its coquette charm. All the while, my give-a-fucks were on vacation.
Summer was sometimes about the night.
Summer was sometimes without a shirt.
Summer was sometimes meditative.
Summer was sometimes sweetly-scented.
My friends Ann and Missy stopped by for a summertime reunion – and it was the best kind of reunion. Meanwhile, my Godson Jaxon turned two. And Andy and I celebrated our 24th year together.
By the end of July, the Paris Olympic Games arrived, with ample bulges in tow. I gave in to the spirit and did my best to keep it kinky.
Better than my aging naked ass were all the Olympians on display, including Léon Marchand, Aya Nakamura, Caeleb Dressel, Torri Huske, Jules Bouyer, Carlos Alcaraz, Anthony Harding, Stephen Nedoroscik, Carlos Yulo, Anthony Ammirati, Rhys McClenaghan, Bobby Finke, Noah Lyles, Mondo Duplantis, Rebeca Andrade, Gabby Thomas, Cole Hocker, Jack Laugher, Asher Hong and Paul Juda. At the end of it, Tom Daley retired, and Bob the Cap Catcher was crowned Dazzler of the Day.
Floral visitors brought some sort of message, a sweet scent by Creed brought fragrant coolness, and then July ended. But not before the final summer playlist dropped.
Summer brought sharp memories of a year ago, and the room where my father died was not as much haunted as it was a lonely comfort. Finding the beauty and grace in loss is a lesson that I’ll likely be learning for the rest of whatever remains of my own life.
The coquette summer continued…
A poignant summer fragrance memory courtesy of Tom Ford’s ‘Azure Lime’.
When the morning glories began their late season bloom the blush was definitely off the rose. Chip agreed.
The Paris Olympics concluded, and it was pretty much a tale of two penises.
Our BroSox Adventure took place in August, and despite a torrential, hurricane-induced ride into Boston, Skip and I had another banner baseball game, even if the Red Sox lost.
The demure and mindful coquette.
The coquette birthday on the cusp.
“September tries its best to have us forget summer.” ~ Bern Williams
September swimming in a cherry-popping suit.
Dad’s second heavenly birthday.
Keep calm and coquette on – Part One.
Keep calm and coquette on – Part Two.
Preparing the way for the moon and the harvest.
Nakedly harnessing the energy of the Harvest Supermoon amid a lunar eclipse.
And so does summer end, with the panache of pink plaid, and a running undercurrent of sadness – the perfect personification of a coquette moment. Best of times, worst of times, and all of it leading up to the arrival of fall tomorrow. Ready or not, here it comes.
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?” ~ John Steinbeck
