I’ll be the first to admit that this is super corny…but this entire post is–essentially–my personal romance vision board…hope of all hopes that if I build it…the sexy will come. 2 kids under 5, a geriatric cat, a shoe-box New York City apartment and basically…well, I’m romance (et al) starved. The following is my sweeping romantic Hollywood movie vs. the reality of urban foot soldier meets frayed Mommy influenced ideal of what’s super hot and would be wholly embraced in the impossible dream: a child-free weekend.
Nothing says liberation like romance in the great outdoors (even if it’s just the empty backyard) and a cozy comfy tent made for two.
Here’s a sleek and uber sexy modified living room number for those of us living in a bee hive centrally located in the polar vortex.
The film The English Patient ruined me. No man will ever live up to Ralph Fiennes as Count Lazlo de Almasy…and the desert will forever be the most romantic and excruciating place on earth.
Because I’m a chick and strewn rose petals, good booze and down-filled throw pillows get me every time.
Be still my tachycardic heart…Out of Africa (maybe the most beautiful movie ever made)…Robert Redford intimately washing Meryl Streep’s hair. Sud up my locks and I’m yours forever.
Again with the outdoor liberation…just add water and preferably a claw foot tub.
Few things in life are this perfect…especially if there is a large glass of good champagne just out of this camera shot.
My personal heaven: Africa, a tent and a claw foot tub…kill me now.
Sigh…a table for two…not four…or a begging dog…nor shreiking cat…two and only two. Candlelight, of course.
Reality Bites…and Africa requires shots and anti-malarial drugs…sweet consolation prize in this lovely setting for two.
Glucose buffet, sepia pics and a bad ass tablescape…keys to my heart…and what I imagine life with a hipster lover might be like.
My husband would hate this ornate and gorgeously adorned table…mostly because he’s a big fan of elbow room and–as the proud owner of two cracker eating mini terrors–knows first hand that vacuuming shag carpet is a pain in the ass (20 minute–minimum–battle with the Dyson, right there) but I couldn’t help myself…the damn petals get me every time.
I love soft boiled eggs…so the floral homage is perfect…cupid’s arrow right through my belly.
“Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is intimate, the third is routine. After that you take the girl’s clothes off.” Ahh, Raymond Chandler, pure Casanova. Here’s to magic in this super sexy blood orange spicy margarita.
You had me at frosting…and the pink ombre layers say you absolutely adore me.
Did ever a more perfect slice of perfection exist?
All the highly stylized, romantic saccharine nonsense (though much mourned) in my head? Blame Hollywood, blame everything on the movie-magic-make-believe. Below, the ultimate propaganda tools: My TOP TEN PICKS OF THE SEXIEST MOVIES…per a tired, romance-starved housewife. Happy brainwashing (: