Archives for the month of: December, 2010

I’d like to thank you for sticking with me through my erratic blogging during my massive holiday project. It ends tomorrow and I’m looking forward to focusing more on Macaroon and some other new endeavors in the new year. The hours seem to escape me these days but during a rare free hour, I visited my friend Jennie who owns one of my favorite LA shops, Eggy. She quickly turned me on to Tutu de Monde, a super chic collection of French tutus and tutu-esque separates. Wait, tutus that aren’t tacky, I asked? Oh hell no, she said. These suckers are $150 and are even chic enough for New Year’s Eve (meaning, if babies could stay up that late.) Well scouring the frothy pieces felt extremely relevant as I just took my eldest to the Nutcracker, amidst little girls decked in frilly taffeta and glittery slip-ons (btw, we were at UCLA, not Lincoln Center.) Does anyone mix and match anymore? I wound up picking out a Tutu De Monde crystal bow tank which I think will wear nicely with a pair of wide-leg jeans….Maybe for next year’s performance.

We just had dinner with our friends Courtney and David who are in from a twenty-nine degree New York. But I have to admit that I am almost jealous of their having to bundle up their little twins before taking them outside (reason #1 why everyone moves away from New York when they have kids, yes, I know.) But as my mom says, kids seem to have a different thermostat and can brave weather in a way we can’t.  So in the few dismal days that I’ve actually come to cherish (like today, pouring) I will “bundle” up my kids as well. And while they might not set out to make snow angels in the middle of 1st Avenue like I did, they will have their own version of winter. Below, my new favorite grown-up find, Mischa Lampert, who is kind enough to make me custom kids hats.

I’m adding the final touches to my daughter’s new bedroom and have to face the large, blank wall over her bed. How do I fill that space? Well as anyone knows, you can’t hang shit over a bed if you’re in California for fear of a Richter Scale situation (I try to avoid the “E” word whenever possible.) My husband and mother-in-law bawled me out when I tried to negotiate a Rug Company flamingo wall hanging. But then again Jon was thrown out of his bed, still drunk from a high school party during the 1994 valley earthquake. He gets his own version of Vietnam flashbacks to this day. Luckily, the most amazing option was a huge Tamar Mogendorff stuffed sequinned-antler deer head which, if she dare fall off the wall, will simply become a happy addition to Gemmie’s animal collection.

 

 

It’s been hard to find the time to blog as all my waking hours have been sucked into the vortex of freelance work. But I somehow felt liberated after reading Brandon Holly’s Editor letter for Lucky (which is odd for a few reasons: I never read Lucky and I rarely read Editor’s letters.)  And since when is she the chief? Anyway, she was saying how she wore sweats and oversized sweaters for years while she “ran a website” and “played with her baby” prior to her running Elle Girl or whatever publication. It sounded a lot like my current life: snuggled up to the lap tap while intermittently playing with the little ones in fuzzy socks and something-with-a-hood-on-it. Last week I found myself caressing a new line of sweats and tees which I randomly spotted at the gym (shhhh….) It’s called Aviator Nation and it’s from the Tom’s guy and his hot surfer sister. I finally feel confident enough to endorse a line of sweats, not just because it is the sickest new loungewear I’ve seen (it crushes Free City) but because I don’t want to pretend to care about what I look like during the day anymore. Sorry for the eye-sore, fellow drop-off moms.

 

After seeing Gwen Stefani and her sons in the park last week, I realized how much I long for boy “stuff”. Robots, super heroes, dinos…I love it all. And while I’m not anti my girls borrowing from their cousins (three little guys) it’s just not the same. But I guess to be fair, little things-no matter who they’re for-are just cute. And in the midst of Gilt Groupe Holiday Gifts consulting galore, I realize that even doggy toys are cute (for all of you who have doggies on your lists, you know where to go.) So I guess that’s just my new world view. Below, a boy’s band jacket from a mother of four (two girls, two boys) who most definitely has the cutest “stuff” of anyone on the planet. How perfect for Gwen.

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