Oh wow! I have found a new eBay love and its name is Mademoiselle Vintage. Here I was, innocently searching for woven heels and I came across what will seriously become a retail danger zone for me for the next few months. I love all of its stuff—from hippie-ish tops to fun skirts to seriously unique-looking dresses. Also, how about this insanely cute rainbow tote bag? Or a pair of gladiator sandals that don?t look just like every other pair on the street? I must have it all.

You know how this whole painterly trend has been crazy popular this season? You know how it totally reminds you of the '80s? Well, I don't know why I haven't thought of this before, but there are tons of bold, original, paint-splash dresses available on my favorite little auction site. Check out, for example, this perfect, abstract twirly dress. This Bill Blass piece would be the best for a party and, even though I sense there's something shady going on, I'm still drawn to this super-playful, well-cut Diane von Furstenberg style.

I've gotten into a little bit of a rut earrings-wise. By rut I mean hoops, and by hoops I mean medium and gold of the boring-but-get-the-job-done variety. I really want some new, exciting, different earrings: the kind I can wear with a plain T-shirt or dress and that will change everything—or at least make things a little more lively. I'm crazy about these neon-yellow filigree drops: They remind me of something a bawdy female guest might have worn to the cocktail party in the beginning of The Graduate. These bird-of-paradise-looking clip-ons would be ideal with an updo and a '50s-style shift. And I'm dying to get my hands on this gold safety-pin style, which I feel like I'd wear every day with everything, but especially with a simple white V-neck and jeans.

There's something about owls that completely transports me back to the '70s—particularly the late '70s when it seemed that everything in the world was yellow, orange, and brown. (They also remind me of that stupid joke the grandpa tells Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.) Anyway, as is my wont, I decided to plug "owl" into eBay to see what popped up. And wouldn't you know? Of course, tons of awesomely weird stuff. I'm not going to say I wouldn't wear this odd, tie-waist owl tunic because I totally would. I love both pairs of these very oversize owl-eye sunglasses; 1975's Tomy Owl is probably where the whole wise bird fetish started for me; this midcentury plaque is the kind of thing that looks cool hanging in a pretty foyer; I want to buy this sweet iron-on and press it onto a black tee for my baby godson; this glass figurine would be awfully cute on a white desk; and, lastly, would I be a complete freak to want to buy this Salvor owl pillow to keep my Salvor deer pillow company?

I'm aware that this is an insane proposition, perhaps even too far-reaching for my own eBay buying skills but ... I want a pair of vintage shorts. You know, the kind that are high-waisted and brightly colored and make you think of a '50s housewife enjoying a daiquiri on the lawn. Or maybe something January Jones would wear to a pool party in Mad Men (with a pointy-chest revealing top). Though I don't have any idea how they'd fit my butt and thighs (could be very, very bad), these three pairs are exactly what I'm thinking about: something bright and pink with cool buttons, simple orange "britches", or maybe something looser and weirder—like this pair of blue-and-white almost-culottes?

In the middle of my apartment is a windowless room that no one likes to talk about. It's where my boyfriend keeps his massive—not very well organized—collection of records and CDs, where I throw bags of clothes that are meant to go to Goodwill but somehow never do, and where we store embarrassing books that we wouldn't like company to see (The Artist's Way, Dealing with People You Can't Stand, my not-working-very-well Suze Orman collection). It's also the broken-chair hospital—kind of like an Island of Misfit Toys, except with chairs that are missing a rung or a screw, or, in one case, a seat. We keep these chairs, I think, in case of the Big Dinner Party—the one that maybe happens once a year for which we usually rent chairs because no one has yet dealt with the misfits. Sigh. Today on eBay, I thought maybe I could change all this, do away with the hospital, and purchase this perfect little set of bentwood space-age seating that is not only stackable but right now going for just a buck (no reserve!).

So last night—BECAUSE THIS IS NOW THE KIND OF STUPID THING THAT HAPPENS TO ME—I was dreaming about plaid, specifically about wearing a really bad plaid cape and sitting on a rock. I don't remember who else was in the dream, but she was very angry and scolding me about this item of clothing. Not because of the cape part—no, my conjured critic was actually furious because I had chosen plaid and not an Aztec print. And then I woke up. And I thought about Aztec prints and how great and low-key and versatile they actually are on hippieish vintage bags. And I came across this and this and this on eBay—all of which would be perfect with a tank and a long skirt or denim (almost) anything on beachy nights. (By the way, I once had a boyfriend who regularly read from his dream journal to anyone who'd listen. Since then, as a general rule I think dream retelling is off-limits, but I'm making an exception here.)

There's something a little offbeat, artsy girl about New York label Vena Cava. The pieces always seem to me like the kind of thing really stylish women wear on their I-don't-want-to-think-about-it-too- much-but-still-want-to-look-cool days. Today on eBay, I found three Vena Cava styles that are completely obsession-worthy: two amazing dresses (one black silk, one printed, with three-quarter sleeves) and a unique black romper embellished with studs that will look great with chain-link flat sandals (I am at last buying into the romper trend. Hard).

Because we have nothing resembling a lawn, I'm always attempting to maintain some green space in and around my Brooklyn apartment. We have plants on every windowsill year-round; we keep our Christmas tree up until Valentine's Day; and come summer, I build an elaborate garden on our fire escape. Last year I grew jalapeños, wild flowers, and tiny cucumbers that I later turned into pickles. This year I'll get a little more involved: I'm going to try growing salad greens, tomatoes, and eight different kinds of herbs. Would this cool, country-looking cedar planter not be perfect for the latter two? It will also be time and effort saving. The tomato plants hang upside down, so you don't need to painstakingly stake and tie or build a cage around them. Now all I have to worry about is a way to get rid of my enemies, the squirrels. Right now I'm thinking of buying a very serious water gun that I could shoot Uzi-style through the screen whenever the relentless urban rats attack my harvests.

Remember a week or so ago when I developed that madras-plaid fetish? Well, it got real bad. I wanted everything in the preppy pattern. I bid on a bunch of stuff, and then for some reason (my own slowness or cheapness) I wound up with nothing. It was all sad, but the real heartbreak was the jumper, which I lost in its auction's last moments. Afterward I could not stop thinking about that piece. I mean, I had big summer plans for it: I imagined riding my bike wearing it with red round-toe flats; walking on the boardwalk in it with big sunglasses and flip-flops, perhaps eating a snow cone; throwing it on in the morning to get coffee and blog. The entire situation was a True. Ebay. Tragedy. But then I was in Old Navy on Friday, and nestled amid its lamé bikinis and hot pink maxi dresses, there it was, hiding: my new jumper. I have to say, I may like this one even better. It's so comfortable and soft, with a belly-friendly drawstring waist and cute little cuffed shorts—all for just $20, on sale. I win.

(If you should, say, want this perfect summer item, I suggest going for the total-comfort romper effect and buying it a little looser and a size up.)

I am always looking for fashion inspiration, either for what I'm wearing or what I'm writing about. And I get this from tons of places—walking around the city, magazines, TV, movies, uniforms, videos at the gym (seriously, this happened once). But there are certain people I look back to again and again whenever I'm feeling in a style rut—like Marianne Faithfull. I just love her. I love that she was Mick Jagger's badass girlfriend before Bianca Jagger. I love that she wrote a fiercely honest tell-all, that she was an interesting singer in her own right, and I especially love the way she looked. Perfect. Anyway, today something exhilarating occurred: I've been looking for Faithfull's movie Girl on a Motorcycle for years and just today found it on eBay! While I'm at it, I might also bid on a couple of hot pictures and some great-looking old-school records.

This is my absolute favorite obsession for summer: vintage canvas-and-leather bags. They are just so cool-looking—part old-school professor, part Ralph Fiennes in The English Patient, part French lady from the '70s. I love that you could wear them with wide-leg jeans and a tank or a really ladylike shirtdress and they'll look equally good. Here are some of my top picks today: a beat-up-just-enough Ghurka clutch, this gorgeous piece from Valentino Garavani, a sunny-preppy purse from Etienne Aigner, and—oh my, if I had the money—this outstanding/ridiculous Hermès style.