Glow by Lady E

  I have a thing for pretty tissue. Most of you ladies know that. 😁 Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. I have a thing for pretty, high-quality tissue in different sizes. Because apparently, somewhere along the way, my tissues acquired job descriptions. The smallest packs go into my small bags. They barely take up any room, which matters when I’m carrying one of those tiny purses that seems to believe women require nothing beyond a card and a lipstick. It’s important that I have a tissue with me at all times because when I’m with family, I give my tote to one of them when I need to use the mall bathroom. But not all bathrooms here have tissue, so small bag tissue is a life saver.  The medium ones live in my tote. There’s more space there, so they’re allowed to be a little bigger. This tissue is shared property. When the boys need it, there’s tissue. When we travel and someone needs it, I pull it out. Eating out and there’s not enough tissue and it’s too troublesome to cal...

  Not everything stays. Some things pass through you… used, loved, forgotten. But every now and then— something lingers. Not because it’s loud. Not because it’s trending. But because it made your days softer. Easier. More you . These are the things I’ve been keeping close. 01. My Inabel Skirt This piece isn’t just something I wear. It grounds me. There’s something about the texture, the weight, the story behind it… it reminds me where I come from. And somehow, every time I reach for it, I feel a little more put together without trying too hard. 02. Juttis (My Unexpected Foot Saver) This pair is special.  Handmade. Flew all the way from India.  Bought from the company owner himself. I was already loving it. But when my feet needed gentleness, I fell in love even more. Soft. Forgiving. Still beautiful. Proof that comfort doesn’t have to mean giving anything up. 03. Sewame Hand Cream This one lives quietly on my table. A small squeeze… and suddenly, everything fe...

  I didn’t always believe this. Not in a loud, obvious way. But in small decisions. Quiet ones. The kind no one else sees. There was always a pause. I remember exactly what that pause felt like. I held something in my hands—something I had wanted for a long time. I had waited for it. Looked at it more than once. Thought about it more than I would admit. And when it was finally in front of me— I hesitated. Not because I couldn’t have it. But because something in me said— not yet. As if there was some invisible point I had to reach first. Some version of myself that was more ready. More deserving. So I put it back. And in that moment, I didn’t question it. It felt normal. That quiet withholding. That instinct to delay something I already knew I wanted. I did that in other ways too. Choosing later. Choosing less. Telling myself, this is enough. More often than not, it wasn’t. There was always that ‘what if.’ It was just what I had learned...