Radiate Love Pixie Duster (Cropped Length)

Forgive us for getting a bit romantic here, but can’t you just see this with an oversized pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses, a woven sunhat, and a view of Tuscany?Seriously though, this piece looks adorable dressed down with a pair of shorts and t-shirt, or worn over a long silk tank and leggings. Add some espadrilles or sandals and you’re ready to roam. It’s beautiful paired with earth tones or shades of pale yellow, but it also works perfectly with khaki, sage green, mint, aqua, and robin’s egg blue. 

The wanderer, the nomad. Women who travel light and seek adventure, who live and love in the wide world. Women who roam if they want to.

Leslie Love is an artist and painter born and raised on Vancouver Island, on a wild piece of land called Song Farm. Of her process and her work, she says “I go outside daily and wander, and wonder. I’ve learned to collect less, and only take what I’m going to use, so I can leave more for the future. Here, on a crooked dead end road, I’m talking to ravens, the neighbourhood dogs, and to myself excitedly when I find a new mushroom, flower, or bird I haven’t noticed in a while, or ever before. I may even talk to the plants, and the stars. Let me show you what I see.” She creates her own paints from materials she finds in nature, including rosehips, acorn & inky caps, oregon grapes, blackberries, copper, walnut husks, wood, and water from the ocean, lakes, and rain. See more of her luminous world and work at www.inkymoon.ca, and on her Instagram @lesliewlove.

And PS — if you’re looking for some wanderlust inspiration, may we suggest enjoying the travel writing of Anthony Bourdain, Jack Kerouac, Frances Mayes, Pico Iyer, Elizabeth Gilbert, Geoffrey Morrison, and Jan Morris :)  

She was born with a suitcase 
full of stars. Fingers like feathers,
hair tangled in the wind of a fast car.
She has seen the sun come up
in wooded places, carved 
her name in a tree there. And in the desert
she spelled the letters out with stones
left behind like breadcrumbs.
Her veins are like roadways  
seen from airplane windows, her heart
torn in one country, then healed 
in the next. She has wandered through ruins, 
stood in the doorways of kings. 
Made mixtapes and lost them 
in gas station bathrooms, given away
her favourite jacket 
like an offering to the sea. A prayer 
for warm days, fish and chips.
Candles burning in churches,
clover at the side of the road.