I now have a full-blown shoulder pad obsession that keeps me looking like a linebacker at all times. Don’t worry, my friends have already staged an intervention.

In other news, I spent this Sunday in Inman Square where I did some book proposal-writing after brunching* at Olé. I don’t know if it’s my aversion to eggs or a bout of homesickness for LA, but in the middle of my one-woman quest to hit up all the brunches around Boston this fall, I’ve started to zero in on Mexican Restaurants For White People. (Possibly the most fascinating bastardization of ethnic cuisine since Chinese Fine Dining.) Anyway, this is clearly a poor substitute for the real thing, but cut me some slack: I live in New England.

So, I’m kind of wondering how I’m ever going to survive food-wise in Berlin. It’s got tons of Vietnamese options and I’ve had good sushi and Chinese there, but Mexican? Given how long it took for the taco trucks of California to migrate to the East and given the tendency for Germany to adopt American trends years late**, I sort have my doubts about the quality and availability of Mexican food in Berlin. Though it appears, according to the New York Times piece, that there are options in existence, and they aren’t total crap. Then again, one of the Berliners quoted in the NYT recalls eating “an enchilada that tasted like curry”, so I remain skeptical.

* “Brunch” is now a verb, people. My life would be easier if everyone could just accept this.

** No idea if this is actually true. It’s a running joke among the Germans in my life that strange American trends tend to become popular after a couple years’ delay in Europe.

Anatomy of the Outfit: Gabby dress (worn as top) by Torn by Ronny Kobo (via Swirl), Corey Lynn Calter shorts (via Peachfrog in Williamsburg), stockings by Cynthia Rowley (via Swirl), and stone onyx bead bracelet by Alisa Michelle (via Swirl).