Author: Saba Javed
The Morning That Shifted Everything It was a sticky summer morning in 2018, the kind where the air feels heavy with secrets. I leaned over my bathroom sink, splashing cold water on my face to shake off a sleepless night. The sunlight slanted through the window, catching my reflection, and there they were faint dark spots on my forehead and cheek, like uninvited guests. They weren’t just blemishes; they felt like markers of time I hadn’t noticed slipping by, of sunburned days and forgotten sunscreen. I stood there, towel in hand, thinking, “How did I let these creep up?” It…
The Day My Feet Begged for Mercy I’ll never forget that scorching July day in 2018, when the New York pavement seemed to radiate heat like a griddle. I was hustling from a Midtown meeting to a lunch date downtown, my feet trapped in leather pumps I’d snagged because they screamed summer work shoes in the boutique window. By the fourth block, blisters were forming, and I was limping, muttering to myself about bad choices. I ducked into a café, fumbling with Band-Aids from my bag, and swore I’d find summer shoes women could actually wear shoes that carried me…
The First Leaves Falling I remember the first time autumn really felt like mine. It was my second year in Boston, living in a cramped apartment where the radiator hissed like it had opinions. The air turned sharp, and the leaves outside my window didn’t just drop they danced, spinning secrets in shades of amber and crimson. I’d sit cross-legged on my bed, a chipped mug of tea in hand, painting my nails with a drugstore burgundy that felt like bottling the season. Those fall nail designs were my small act of defiance against the gray creeping in, a way…
A Firefly Summer It was a humid summer night in 1985, and I was ten, sprawled on the porch with a sticky Popsicle. My sister cranked “Like a Virgin” from her Chevy’s radio, her Madonna T-shirt glowing under the streetlight. Fireflies blinked like tiny rebels, and I felt the world crack open. Those 80s icons weren’t just stars they were the heartbeat of our dreams. The famous people of the 1980s lived in our mixtapes and TV screens, whispering we could be bold. That night, I believed I could be anything. Madonna’s Fearless Spark Madonna was a revolution in lace…
The Summer My Hair Rebelled I was sixteen, standing in my bathroom, summer heat clinging to the air. My wavy hair was a tangled, frizzy disaster, refusing to cooperate. I held a cheap comb, stuck in a knot, staring at my reflection. I’d spent hours spraying water, chasing perfect curls from magazines. “Why can’t you just look good?” I groaned, tugging harder. That moment started my journey to a wavy hair routine that tamed frizz and let my waves shine. Figuring Out My Waves I used to think wavy hair was a glitch, caught between straight and curly. My friends…
A Roman Evening That Changed Everything It was a humid summer night in Rome, 2019, the kind where the air clung to you like a second skin, heavy with jasmine and the buzz of distant scooters. I was alone, gelato melting down my wrist, fresh off a breakup that left me untethered but oddly free. Wandering off Via Condotti, I slipped into a perfumery, its shelves gleaming with crystal bottles. The shopkeeper, an older woman with knowing eyes, spritzed Valentino Donna Born in Roma on my wrist without a word. Blackcurrant stung sharp, then softened into jasmine and vanilla, like…
A Worn Leather Memory That Holds Tight I can still feel the weight of that first purse in my hand, heavy with possibility, like it held more than just my keys and a crumpled notebook. It was a rainy spring afternoon in college, the kind where the air smells of wet grass and everyone’s rushing to class under dripping umbrellas. I’d saved up for weeks to buy that black leather crossbody from a dusty vintage shop, its edges already softening from someone else’s life. Slinging it over my shoulder felt like claiming a piece of myself, a quiet rebellion against…
The Scent That Caught Me Off Guard Last fall, I wandered into a perfume store near me on a whim, rain tapping my umbrella like a soft drum. The shop was small, tucked on a side street, its shelves glowing with bottles like tiny lanterns. I was a mess fresh off a breakup, feeling like I’d misplaced myself. Then I tried Carolina Herrera Good Girl perfume. One spritz, and its jasmine-tonka warmth hugged me tight. It wasn’t just a scent; it felt like a lifeline. Now, with 2025’s new perfumes calling, that moment still pulls me back, reminding me how…
A Rainy Day and My First Love for Brown Nail Polish I can still see that rainy October afternoon, years ago, in my cramped little apartment where the windows were fogged and the world felt soft and far away. I was twenty-two, just out of college, sprawled on a lumpy couch with a cold mug of tea and nails chewed to stubs from too many all-nighters. I found this bottle of brown nail polish at the bottom of a drawer, a flea market impulse buy, its shade deep like wet autumn leaves. Painting my nails that day, slow and careful,…
A Rainy Day and a New Beginning I remember that drizzly October morning in 2023, fresh in the city with a job that felt too big. My black Converse were frayed, soles worn from late-night walks. In a cozy boutique, I found white canvas sneakers, simple yet storied. Slipping them on felt like a quiet promise to find my rhythm. That day, I bought them, stepping into the rain with a spark. In fall 2025, with trendy sneakers 2025 everywhere, I wonder if we all chase that feeling. Retro Sneakers and Old Memories Spring 2025 brought retro sneakers 2025, popping…