Carly’s Cut, Vol. 8

Carly is back with the eighth installment of Carly’s Cut. You can read her last one here. If you are new here, Carly is The Stripe’s Creative Projects Manager. She has such great taste that I wanted to give her a monthly column. Think of her as our younger buddy, telling us what we should know about.

March always feels like a turning point in Charleston. The start of spring can go one of two ways: either the weather is impossibly perfect, light and breezy with no humidity in sight, or the pollen rolls in and takes you out for a week straight. No real middle ground. Still, it’s one of my favorite times of year. It reminds me of that first real shift in New York, when everything softens and comes back to life. The blooms are brighter, people linger a little longer, and there’s a renewed sense of energy that makes the city feel full again. Hibernation is over, and I’m more than ready to rejoin the world.

This month, in many ways, was quieter than expected, filled mostly with work and settling into a steady rhythm. Not a bad thing, just a different pace. It did, however, make me realize how much I want to carve out more space for play as we move into the warmer months. Something a bit more balanced, more intentional. I’ve found myself leaning into the smaller joys. Watching movies in abundance, soaking up the final stretch of award season, and finally making my way through a list of restaurants that have been waiting patiently for my attention.

Carly’s Cut, Vol. 8

Shopped //

I’ve looked back at most of my shopping roundups and noticed a very clear pattern, one that will surprise absolutely no one. I, Carly Semack, am a full-fledged shoe person. My closet is overflowing in a way that feels a little excessive on paper, but in practice, every pair earns its keep. I wear them into the ground. Still, the ratio is… off. I own more shoes than shirts, pants, or even socks, which feels like a logistical oversight if we’re being honest.

This month, I’ve been especially drawn to the slightly odd, slightly ugly sneaker. It’s a lane I’ve always occupied proudly. I am an ugly sneaker apologist. It all reignited when a coworker showed up in vintage Nike bowling shoes, and something in my brain clicked. If you spend enough time digging through secondhand sites, the chances of finding a pristine, slightly bizarre pair are surprisingly high.

Naturally, the search spiraled. My wishlist is now… extensive. At the very top are a pair of Wales Bonner trainers, followed closely by some Marc Jacobs mesh sneakers that I can’t stop thinking about. I’ve even surprised myself with some of the brands I’ve been pulled toward lately, but that’s part of the fun. You really never know where a great, slightly strange shoe is going to come from.

I keep circling back to a suede lace-up pair from Miista, and, as always, a trusty Salomon sneaker that could easily double as a water shoe. And yes, in case you were wondering, Merrells are absolutely creeping back into the conversation. I’ve got my eye on a pair of their slides as we speak. If the weirder end of the spectrum isn’t quite your thing, the ballet sneaker or a classic plimsoll feels like an easy way to dip a toe in without fully committing.

Watched //

If you haven’t seen Pillion yet and find yourself talking to someone who has, I hope they lead with this: it might be one of the most emotionally gut-wrenching films of 2026. Yes, it’s sexy. Yes, there’s a lot of leather. But beneath all of that is something much more tender. A real longing for connection, for love, for self-acceptance, for finding your people.

I walked into the theater fully expecting to be met with chains, whips, and a generous amount of Alexander Skarsgård. I did not expect to leave feeling completely undone. There’s a quiet heartbreak threaded through the film that sneaks up on you and lingers far longer than you’d anticipate.

Is Pillion the greatest love story of all time? Maybe not universally, but it feels especially relevant right now. In a moment where so much of romance lives behind screens, there’s something refreshing about a story that leans into real-world connection. Meeting someone by chance, getting a little lost in it, letting yourself fall without overthinking the outcome. It’s the kind of film that makes you want to turn right back around and watch it again. Pillion, unfortunately for me, has dominated my heart.

Liked in Fashion //

A new section for this month, mostly because life has been a bit chaotic and my reading list has taken a backseat. In its place, award season. Easily my favorite time of year. The speculation, the wins and snubs, the red carpet moments. It’s all part of the ritual.

This year’s Oscars left me a little underwhelmed. The looks felt… safe. Especially on the men’s side, where a brooch on classic suiting somehow continues to pass as a “risk.” I wanted more. The one look that really held my attention was Emma Stone’s. At first glance, it reads simple, but the more you sit with it, the better it gets.

She wore custom Louis Vuitton, and it struck that perfect balance. Feminine, but not overly precious. The cap sleeves added just enough structure without tipping into costume, and the open back gave it a subtle edge that kept it from feeling too prim. It’s the kind of dress I could see myself wearing when the time comes for me to get hitched. I’ve loved her shift toward cooler tones lately. It works especially well with her darker hair and feels like a natural evolution of her style. If anyone happens to have a direct line to Emma, I’d like to formally express my interest in borrowing this one down the line!!

Saved //

The next few months will be heavy on screenshots. Home decor, styling, design references stacked on top of each other. I’m moving, so I’m allowing it. I came across this image recently and was caught off guard by how drawn I felt to it. The colors, the textures, the mix. It all felt a little unexpected, which is usually a good sign.

Going into this move, my goal is to repurpose as much as I can. Not a full reset, more of a thoughtful reshuffle. I want the space to feel like an evolution of what I already have, not like I went rogue in a home goods store and started from scratch. Over time, I’ll swap things out. A blanket here, a light fixture there. Small changes that slowly shift the mood.

Lately I’ve been especially pulled toward deep brown, red, and ochre. A combination I didn’t see coming, but one that feels right for where I’m at. It’s making the bedroom feel like the place to lean in and have a little fun. After a very committed search for a similar headboard, I’ve ditched the efforts and landed on the Essential Bed frame from Thuma instead. Paired with linen curtains in a warm honey gold, my favorite tiled jute rug, and a set of perfectly striped pillowcases, it feels like a strong starting point. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the final space never looks exactly like the inspiration. And honestly, that’s kind of the point.

Ate //

How lucky am I to live in a city where potato salad and smoked brisket are always within reach? I carved out a rare Sunday off in the middle of what’s felt like a steady stretch of work to visit a small antique store just outside of Charleston, and somewhere between the dust and the digging, a very specific craving set in. I’d been hearing murmurs about Palmira, Charleston’s newest spot, and if I’m being honest, I’m a little annoyed with myself for waiting this long. One meal in and it was immediately clear, the hype is warranted.

Palmira is Puerto Rican–inspired barbecue from chef Hector Garate, and it strikes that perfect balance of thoughtful and unfussy. Smoked beef cheeks, brisket, whole hog, house-made sausages. It’s the kind of menu that invites a plan, and then quickly undoes it. I stepped up to the counter with a rough idea and just as quickly abandoned it, swayed by the orders being called out around me and the smell of smoked sausage doing most of the convincing.

What landed on my tray felt like the right kind of overcommitment: beef cheeks, brisket, potato salad, mustard slaw, collard greens, and, without exaggeration, some of the best beans I’ve had in recent memory. A proper spread. And because restraint was clearly not part of the agenda, an ice-cold Boylan’s creme soda to round it all out.

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