Author: Saba Javed

A Rainy Afternoon Memory I remember finding a grainy photo of young Diane Keaton in an old magazine, tucked in my mom’s closet during a rainy college afternoon, in a dorm that smelled of stale coffee and ambition. It was the 70s, her face soft yet sharp, wearing an oversized vest and a tie slung loose, like she’d borrowed it from someone she wasn’t sure about. I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring, thinking, “Who is this woman, unraveling and whole at once?” That was young Diane, and her gaze caught me maybe the messy hair, or the half-smile that…

A Dare in the Mirror I remember the first time I swiped on red lipstick that felt like mine, not some glossy fantasy. It was that winter in college, snow piling outside my dorm like unsaid apologies, and I was reeling from a breakup that left me invisible. I rummaged through my roommate’s makeup bag she was the bold one, always off to parties and found MAC Matte Lipstick in Ruby Woo. The cap snapped open, and the color hit like a challenge. Taylor Swift red lipstick, I thought, her song “Red” looping in my ears, her voice raw like…

A Mirror Moment in My Twenties I remember that autumn morning in my early twenties, standing in front of the chipped bathroom mirror in my college apartment. My skin was a mess red splotches from late-night cramming, dull patches from skipping sunscreen, and a tiredness that made me feel older than I was. I’d trace my cheek with my fingers, thinking, why can’t I get this right? Skincare felt like a puzzle I couldn’t solve. Maybe that’s why I finally booked a dermatologist appointment, whispering to myself on the bus ride over, what if this changes everything? That visit started…

A Rainy Day Memory I remember that rainy afternoon in early 2025, sitting in my small apartment, the city blurred outside my window. The chill crept through the glass, and I was turning my grandmother’s old gold ring over in my hands, a band that always felt a touch too loose on my ring finger. I wanted to surprise my partner with something meaningful, but the thought of a jeweler’s shop felt too cold, too hurried. Maybe that’s why I turned to figuring out how to measure ring size at home, wrapping a strip of paper around my finger, marking…

That Rainy Paris Moment I remember that rainy Paris afternoon, maybe a decade ago, when I was wandering alone, heart bruised from a breakup. The city smelled of wet cobblestones, and I slipped into a café by the Seine, craving warmth. There, I saw her a woman with a quiet elegance, sipping espresso, her wrist adorned with a Cartier Tank that caught the dim light like a secret. I thought, “That’s not just a watch; it’s a piece of time itself.” That moment sparked something in me, a pull toward luxury women’s watches brands, the top 10 that feel like…

A Sip of Autumn’s Whisper I remember that crisp September morning a few years ago, pulling into Starbucks as the air turned cool, my heart fluttering with the arrival of the fall menu. It was 2022, maybe ’23 time blurs but the barista handed me a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and its warm cinnamon steam felt like an old college sweater. I lingered in the parking lot, sipping, watching summer fade. Maybe that’s why Starbucks fall drinks hit so deep; they’re not just drinks, they’re memories of simpler times. With the 2024 fall menu dropping August 26, I’ve ranked the best…

That Rainy Afternoon I can still see that rainy afternoon in my cramped college apartment, the kind where the windows fogged up and the world felt soft and distant. It was one of those nervous dates, where every detail mattered, and I decided to curl my hair, something I hadn’t done since high school. Why won’t my hair hold a curl? The question had haunted me for years, my straight strands mocking every attempt. I wrapped them around my old curling iron, heart pounding with hope, but by the time I stepped outside, the curls drooped like wilted petals. It…

A Memory That Anchors Me I remember opening my first everygirl planners in January, my early twenties a blur of chaos. It was a simple everygirl planner, bought from a corner store near my city apartment. The pages smelled like fresh starts, and I thought, maybe this can hold me together. That winter in college, drowning in assignments, it became my anchor. I scribbled dreams in the margins, each note a nudge toward hope. Perhaps that’s why the everygirl planner 2025 feels like a trusted friend now. The Pull of Nostalgia That memory tugs at me whenever I think of…

A Rainy Pittsburgh Afternoon, Seeking Home I remember that rainy day in Pittsburgh, the sky heavy, mirroring the ache in my chest from unpacking in an empty apartment. It was 2018, maybe 2019 time blurs when you’re chasing home. Driving aimlessly, wipers slapping, I spotted the Anthropologie Home Outlet sign at Mount Nebo Shopping Center off I-279. It pulled me in, like a whisper: “Fill these spaces with stories.” Inside, the scent of textiles and wood sparked possibility. That moment seeded this reflection on anthropologie outlet treasures, where dreams of cozy nests meet budgets and imperfections. Maybe that’s why, in…

That Rainy Night That Started It All I remember that rainy evening in college, the sky pouring like it was washing away our midterm stress. It was probably 2010 time’s fuzzy when you’re young. My roommate Sarah texted, “Girls night in, no excuses.” We were broke, so it was cheap wine from the corner store, burnt frozen pizza, and an old board game from the dorm lounge. But it felt like everything. We stayed up until dawn, sharing secrets on the floor, my head on her lavender-scented pillow. I thought, “This is life these moments that linger.” In 2025, with…