The BFF Tag With Saige & Isabelle

I adjust the camera on the tripod, hit the record button, and dash back to resume my casual position on the bed. The clicking sound of the camera’s shutters tells me that it’s started filming.

“Hey, darlings! It’s Saige Copeland,” I chirp, shooting the video camera a winning smile that would put any Hollywood star to shame.

Today, my crazy schedule has a rare blank space: no parties, no dates, no riding competitions, just a blissfully boring day to relax. I’ve decided to spend it creating content for my popular YouTube channel, SaigeVlogs.

“My favorite person in the world, Isabelle Palmer from IzzySquizzy, is joining me for the BFF Tag! And by the way . . .” I trail off, biting my lip. My lip gloss tastes like bubblegum. “Being in the spotlight makes her nervous sometimes, so be nice in the comments, mkay?” I give the camera a determined, no-nonsense look. “If I see any hate, that user is getting b-l-o-c-k-e-d.”

The first time Izzy agreed to make a video with me, someone had made fun of her outfit, saying she looked like a kindergartener. Pictures went viral, and she’s been reluctant to appear on my channel ever since. I’ve vowed to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again, even if that means scrolling through every single response and deleting any hurtful ones.

“Izzy!” I call, waving her into the room. “Say hi to my fans.”

Hesitantly, she walks into view and introduces herself to the camera.

“Move the sign and take a seat,” I instruct, gesturing at the chalkboard I use to announce all my videos. “And, babe, you look adorable today.”

She blushes as she puts the sign on the floor, her hazel eyes scrunching up happily. “What’s the BFF Tag?” she asks, curling up on the bed with me and wiggling her toes nervously.

“It’s simple,” I begin, more for the audience’s benefit than hers. “You read some questions about our friendship from the laptop, and we answer them together. Ready?”

She nods, balancing the computer on her leg. “OK, number one . . . ‘How did you first meet?'”

I grin at her, recalling one of the most bittersweet days of my life. “It’s a funny story, actually. Our mom announced that she was adopting a girl, and everyone was super excited, except me. I already had four sisters, I didn’t want another one! Then Mom got back from D.C. with this girl in the backseat . . .”

Izzy takes over. “Saige was kind of a brat, honestly. No offense!” she exclaims, holding up her hands defensively when I stick my tongue out at her. “There was a welcome party for me with presents and everything, and Saige was off in the corner huffing and rolling her eyes.”

“We had a rivalry for awhile, since both of us are into fashion. I wanted to be the best dressed, and so did she. It was ridiculously dumb, but eventually we figured out how similar we are and became best friends.”

“I’m so, so glad we got over that,” Izzy murmurs under her breath, and I nod.

Thinking about how petty and childish we had been makes my stomach hurt. Over her shoulder, I read, “Next: ‘Do you have nicknames for each other?'”

“Of course! Saige’s is Red Riding Hood, because of all her red hair,” Izzy says.

I tug on one of my braids, showing off my silky locks. My unique hair color has always been a source of pride for me. “And Izzy’s is Sleeping Beauty,” I add. “It’s her dream ballet role, and if no one wakes her up, she’ll sleep all day!”

The next question is “Who is her favorite singer?”

“Hey Violet!” we chorus as I whip out my phone and start playing music. We belt the lyrics to O.D.D. together — “I’m the girl in the back of the class, pink hair but I’m wearing all black.”— while Izzy flips around her magenta hair extensions.

“‘What’s her favorite color?”

Another easy one. “You love gold, which your eyeshadow makes pretty obvious,” I point out, and she flutters her eyes, showing off the sparkly makeup.

“You know it,” she smiles. “Your favorites are the primary colors, right? Because you’re an artist.” She says the last word in an exaggerated French accent. I can feel her relaxing and acting sillier as we go on, and it makes me happy.

#5: How long does it take for her to get ready in the morning?

I grin smugly. “Well, I’m smart enough to pick my outfit the night before, so not that long. Izzy, on the other hand . . .” I shrug, like What can you do? “Her room constantly looks like a tornado went through there. One time I found a discarded T-shirt caught in the fan.”

“Fine, but at least I don’t spend twenty minutes doing my makeup.”

“That’s because you do a simple look, and I go all out,” I object, crossing my arms. “Remember the first day of school? My eyeshadow was the school colors. It looked amazing, admit it.”

She rolls her eyes. That’s fine; I know I did an incredible job. My back-to-school picture on Instagram had gotten thousands of likes.

#6: What’s her dream job?

“Oh, we’ve had this planned forever,” Isabelle gushes, and we share a knowing look that’s full of excitement for the future. “We’re going to move to New York so I can join the NYC Ballet, and she can find a modeling agency. We’ll have a cute apartment and go to Fashion Week together every year.”

#7: What’s your favorite memory together?

We burst into laughter, so hard that we can’t manage any words. It’s such a wild story. Catching myself before I snort on camera, I wipe joyous tears from my eyes and recall that fateful day in the summer of 2015.

“Izzy and I were hanging out with our sister Savannah when she suggested we become spies,” I begin. “So we made up a group called the TSO.”

“Tween Spy Organization,” my best friend clarifies helpfully.

“Right. So we got dressed up in tight black clothes and snuck through the house, taking pictures of anything suspicious. Later, we confronted our family about their weird behavior, but it turned out they all had excuses, and we had just jumped to conclusions.”

Thoughtfully, Izzy adds, “We seem to do that a lot.”

#8: What’s always in her bag?

Izzy claps her hands together cheerfully. “Oh, I know this one!” she exclaims. Springing eagerly off the bed, she rushes off to find our purses.

I call after her teasingly, “I hope you know what’s in there — you’d better, after all the times you’ve snooped through it trying to steal my phone.”

Skipping back into the room, she gives me a guilty smile. “Oops?”

Our favorite bags are tossed onto the bed: mine from New Mexico, decorated with a traditional Navajo pattern; and hers, glittery, gold, and modern.

Counting on her manicured fingers, Izzy lists my necessities. “Well, you always have your mini art kit, with the watercolors and tiny little paintbrush. And some emergency makeup, plus that teeny tripod for your phone in case there’s a vlogging opportunity.” She shoots me a wondering look, silently asking if she’s named everything. And of course she has.

Now it’s my turn. Izzy tends to space out a lot, which means she’ll sometimes stuff things in her purse without realizing it. It’s crammed with candy wrappers and hair ties and notes I’ve slipped to her during class, but I know I’m supposed to guess the things she carries around purposefully. “Your Metro Card, those disgusting fruit snacks you’re addicted to —“


“— and you always seem to have gift cards with you. Where do you get those?”

“I’ll never tell,” she smirks, and winks.

#9: What’s her favorite sport?

When Izzy doubles over, giggling, I brace myself for what comes next: “The only sports you do are Netflix marathons.”

I roll my eyes. “I exercise,” I protest. “Sometimes while I’m binge watching Stranger Things. It’s called multitasking.”

She doesn’t, Izzy mouths at the camera. I knock my sock-clad feet against hers, like Shut up!

“I’m actually an athlete,” she announces. There’s a proud glow on her cheeks. “I do ballet. And anyone who says it’s not a real sport is just jealous.”

“OK, Izzy, last question,” I say, peering at the laptop screen. “You ready?” After she nods yes, I read aloud, “‘What do you like most about her?’”

“Oh, that’s a hard one!” she gasps. She knits her eyebrows together as she considers it. “But, hmm, I think . . . I like everything about Saige. That’s my answer.”

I feel my cheeks start to grow hot, so I clamp my hand over my mouth, as if that’s going to hide it. “I love how sweet you are,” I manage to croak out from between my fingers. “Just like that.”

Recovering myself, I throw my arm around Izzy’s shoulders, and we beam at the camera. “Thanks for joining us! Make sure to check out my BFF’s channel, IzzySquizzy, and like, comment, and subscribe. Stay fabulous!”


Not Dead // Saige is Cuter Than Me

Her freckles. ^.^

Her little buns are so cute, I love it.



The bokeh. Look at it. I‘m crying because it’s beautiful.

Apologizing would be appropriate, since I haven’t posted since April . . . but I’m not going to do that. So here are some pictures instead of an apology. Yay.

Saige’s hair has been like this since January, probably, and I kept meaning to take photos of her. I just never got around to it. But today, instead of working on my other blog, I finally got that done. (And I’m actually kind of proud of these pictures? Yep.) They were taken out by one of our sour cherry trees, with a ladder and a really adorable tiny box as props. :)

“You keep disappearing! You’ll post a couple things and say that you’re not leaving, but then it’s a month before we hear from you again!” I can sense all your angry and bitter thoughts through the internet, so I’m going to address that now. I really am not planning on quitting. But I don’t want to feel pressured to have a consistent blogging schedule, since I’m not as into dolls as I used to be. So I’ll just post my pictures whenever I have inspiration. That probably means that you’ll get clusters of posts, and then silence for awhile. But that’s pretty much what I’ve already been doing. It’s just official now.

I love you guys. :D I love these pictures more, though (just kidding).



Swimsuits, Sand, and Sea {Updates & a Photoshoot}

Hey! I know I haven’t posted since Valentine’s Day, but I actually have a legit excuse. I was in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina! I went with my mother, and we visited my mom’s friend from high school/college and the friend’s family.

Anyway, the drive to SC was extremely long. It took us nearly all day to get to SC, no joke.

Even though it was much too cold to go swimming, we went to the beach anyway. I brought along Saige and Eve and took the opportunity to take some pictures of them with the sea in the background!










As you can see, Eve and Saige are modeling Lea Clark’s Mix & Match Swim Set. I took pictures for a review of that outfit, so you can expect to see that sometime soon. :)



The daughters of my mom’s friend each own an American Girl doll. One of them brought GOTY 2010 Lanie Holland to the beach, and I took a picture of her, as well.


In the Myrtle Beach State Park gift shop, there were these tiny alarm clocks. They were the perfect size for American Girl dolls! I just had to take a picture. ;)

If you’d like to see more pictures from my trip to Myrtle Beach, please check out my other blog, Blue Eyes, Gray Eyes. I’ll be posting about my trip on there a little later.


DFA: It has Arrived! + The Sunny Summer Photo Shoot

Ugh, I’ve been such a terrible blogger lately . . . Seriously, it’s already the eighth of February, and this is only my fourth post! *sigh* I’ve just got to get inspired again. ;)

Anyway, since I have no posts in my draft that are close to being ready, I decided to post another DFA (Dragged From the Archives). This one was originally published in July 2014.

It has Arrived! + The Sunny Summer Photo Shoot

My prize from American Girl Fan‘s Summer Photo Contest arrived in the mail today!!

I am SO excited!


I opened the very special brown box . . . and inside was a baby-blue box, (From AG!) and a note addressed to . . . wait for it . . . ME!!!


Holding the note  closed was this super cute sticker that said ‘love’!


And the outside of the  letter said ‘shine’. (You are not allowed to see the inside. It is classified. By me, for me.) The note was so sweet and thoughtful! Thank you so, so, so much, Liz!


Then, that beautiful box, containing my beautiful prize!


The Sunny Isles Outfit is so cute and amazing!


I took all the pieces out of the box with tender, loving care. (NOT!)


Then Saige, my gorgeous model, tried the outfit on! She graciously accepted my invitation to be my model. (Well, she really was like “Mom! I am going to be your model!”) Being her fashion-loving self, how could she refuse? Then I added some jewelry and headed out for a photo shoot!




I put a border on this one!



Saige: I <3 this outfit! Doesn’t it look FABULOUS on me? *flips hair* Oh wait, everything looks good on me!


The <3 charms mean ‘Kind.’



Saige: I look like a real girl! Plus, I’m just beyond cute in this pic :D


I love where the light falls on her face! Aren’t I an amazing photographer? *flips hair* Thought so.


Smelling the darling flowers *sniff sniff*






I love this pic!




There are these beautiful canna lilies in the garden at my house, they make it seem like she is in a jungle!


This outfit just seems kinda jungley to me :)




Dollie feet! I mean, who doesn’t love feet pics? Especially when they are of shoes as cute as these?



Have an epic day,


Secret Santa 2015

Yes, I’ve finally gotten around to making a Christmas post! Yay, me! :D

See the Secret Santa post from 2014 HERE.


My sisters and I trooped across the street to Nevaeh’s room, where MJ and Savannah were helping her put up flowery decorations.

It made me slightly jealous to see them like that. I’d always thought that MJ Valdez was awesome — she was a celebrity, for goodness sake. But since Nevaeh Taylor had arrived, we’d been hanging out less and less. She’s been spending most of her time with Nevaeh . . .

I coughed to get their attention. “It’s time for Secret Santa!” I exclaimed.


They dropped the decorations and joined us in a circle.

“Since some people don’t know how to play,” I started with a meaningful glance at the Historical Characters, “I will explain the rules of Secret Santa before we get started. There are ten strips of paper in this box, each one with one of our names written on it.” I rattled the purple box. “The box will be passed around the circle, and each girl will draw a name. She cannot tell anyone whose name she drew.

I handed the box to Savannah.


She plunged her hand into the box, MJ and Nevaeh both reaching for it at the same time. They scrambled for a slip of paper. Finally, giggling, they each had a paper in their hand.

I glared at Nevaeh. I was fine with whatever name I happened to draw . . . as long I didn’t get Nevaeh’s name.


Savannah, Nevaeh, and MJ unfolded the pieces of paper, showing each other the names despite what I’d told them.

Savannah had Emily, Nevaeh had gotten Caroline, and MJ had drawn Saige — my name.

They balled up the papers, smiling at us cheekily. Then they passed the box to the next girl.


Molly held the box while Emily picked a slip. Then Emily took the box so that her best friend could draw a name.

While Molly slowly stirred up the papers, they whispered about whose name they hoped to get.


They opened the papers: Emily got Ivy, and Molly had drawn her own name.

“I got ‘Molly!'” she laughed. “Saige, what should I do?”

“Just put it back in,” I advised. “Then draw another name.”

She did what she was told, ending up with Savannah’s name.


The box of names passed quickly around the circle.

Caroline got Tracy.


Ivy drew Isabelle’s name.


Tracy was going to be MJ’s Secret Santa. She did a weird little happy dance when she saw which name she got, because MJ was her best friend.


Isabelle ended up with the name “Molly.”


I, of course, didn’t know which names had already been drawn.

Then the box was back in my hands. I stared down at the one fateful slip of paper remaining. I was hoping desperately that Nevaeh’s name wasn’t written on it.

My hand shaking ever so slightly, I reached for the last piece of paper.



Have you ever done Secret Santa?

~ Saige

The TSO — Part Three: Confessions {Finale}

Part one and two of The TSO.



Everyone was huddled on the floor in front of the humans’ giant TV. We were all in our pajamas (except for Emily; she had misplaced hers), watching the amazing Batman Begins.

Isabelle Palmer, Savannah Kingsley, and I, Saige Copeland, had been spying on our sisters for the past several months. Ever since we had found out that something fishy was going on in our home.


Savannah, Isabelle, and I, the first TSO (Tween Spy Organization) members, exchanged a look. The whole family was finally together . . . we would be able to confront them about their suspicious behavior, and perhaps get some confessions.

“Hey, Tracy?” I called, and the eldest in our family paused the movie. “Could we look at your phone for a second?” During our initiation mission, we had photographed our sisters doing odd things. And those images were on Tracy’s phone.

Well, they had been on her iPhone, previously. But, from her phone, I had emailed the pictures to Savannah’s laptop. However, I could access them through the Sent folder on Tracy’s phone.


Grumbling, Tracy crawled over to where I was sitting and handed me her phone. “Don’t you dare break it,” she warned.

“No worries,” I replied as I turned on the phone. I wanted to make sure that the images had been deleted, so I brought up the camera app and flipped through Tracy’s numerous selfies.


Tracy slunk back to where she had been sitting, and I sank back onto the ground next to Isabelle. I’d gone through about thirty of Tracy’s selfies all ready, and I was ready to believe that the pictures had been deleted, when I saw it: a photo of one of my sisters, Emily Bennett, crying on a heap of bedding.

“I thought you deleted them!” I hissed at Palmer. She had been trusted with the job of erasing the evidence.

Isabelle smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Saige. I guess I forgot.”

I leaned across Isabelle and tapped Savannah’s knee. “We have to do it,” I told her under my breath. “It’s time.”


Us TSO members awkwardly got to our feet and stood in front of our siblings. Someone paused the movie.

I coughed to get their attention. “Uh, we’ve noticed the some of you have been acting a little weird lately,” I began, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Kingsley elbowed me in the ribs and whispered, “You’re going to blow our cover, Copeland! They’ll know about the TSO, and then our spying days will be over.”

“Calm down,” I ordered. “I’ve got this.

“As I was saying, you’ve been acting strangely,” I continued. “We sort of, um, borrowed Tracy’s phone and took some pictures of you — because we love you and you’re all pretty — and we noticed weird stuff in the photos. Can you guys explain?”


I brought up the picture of MJ pacing around her room and flipping through her cookbook.

“Here’s one of MJ,” I said. “We thought it was weird that she was looking at her cookbook because she’d told us earlier that day that she was going to bake macarons.”


MJ leapt off the ground and peered at the photo. Then she laughed. “I’d run out of almond flour!” she explained. Almond flour was an ingredient in macarons. “I needed to find something else to bake.”

Oh. That explained it. Maybe we had jumped to conclusions, assuming that she was up to something.


Everyone crowded around us, looking at the phone and telling us what they were doing in the photos.

“Show me the photo you took of me!” Tracy exclaimed.

I obediently flicked through the images until I found the one of Tracy.


When she saw it, she snorted. “You thought that was me being suspicious? I’d died in a video game and I was frustrated. That’s all.”

“What about the Spiderman necklace on the floor?” I asked.

“I’m lazy and I didn’t want to put it on my nightstand. “


Emily had a legit excuse as well. “I was rereading The Lightning Thief, and I got really sad because I know what’s in store for Percy and Annabeth. So I started crying. And as for wearing MJ’s pajamas — I just wanted to see how they looked on me.” She said the last part rather guiltily.


When we showed Molly her picture, she pointed to the sliver of purple sticking up from her lap. “I was doing some schoolwork. You know I can block out everything else when I’m concentrating.”


I showed Ivy her photo. “You don’t like eBooks. Why were staring at your phone like that?”

Ivy shrugged. “You’re right, I don’t like eBooks. But that was a special occasion — neither the library nor the bookstore had the book I was looking for, so I had to resort to reading it on my phone.”


We turned to Caroline, who was standing uncomfortably at the back of the group. “How about you?” I asked. “Do you have an excuse?”

In her picture, she was wearing a sleeveless dress, holding several daisies, and dancing to some pop music.

“Can’t a girl dance once in a while?” she mumbled.

No, no they can’t. Not in my house, anyway. I was about to press her for more information, but Savannah elbowed me again and gave me a look: Drop it.

So our family wasn’t nearly as weird as we had thought. I was sort of relieved, but also disappointed.


Our family settled back down and we continued to watch Batman Begins. Nevaeh Taylor, the newest addition to our family, slunk over to our side of the room and sat next to Savannah.

“I know you’re up to something,” she said softly. Her tone wasn’t threatening — it was just curious. Then she hurried back to her seat.


“That was weird,” Savannah managed, turning to me. “You know, Saige, Nevaeh might be a good addition to the TSO. She’s in the age range, too: ten to twelve years old. Think about it.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “There may be a day in the future where Nevaeh will be needed. But three’s a crowd, and we are the original spying trio.”

Our spying days were not over yet, not by a long shot.