I’ve been flirting with the idea of getting a backpack ever since they came back, about a year and a half ago. And no, I’ve never been called impulsive. I like the idea, but I am not convinced I can pull it off. (To me, it screams fashion-forward or fashion-victim, and I don’t identify with either label.) But, this Alexander Wang style appeals to me because you can shimmy the straps to wear it over one shoulder, only it sits more on your back than your hip. I envision it for extras on the go: mini art set, sippys, snacks, stickers….For those times when I don’t want to bust out a huge diaper bag (which is the kiss of death in any restaurant, if you ask me.) And as my husband has recently declared, this dove gray shade is my go-to hue.
On the heels of writing a very time consuming “Beach Bag Essentials” story, I’ve been drenched in press materials for sunscreen, lip scrubs and protective hair oils (time consuming, you ask? I know, it’s pathetic!) Personally, I only love two things about the beach: a) dumping my kids in the sand with drugstore quality buckets and rakes for hours and b) Lemlem. The collection’s signature cotton gauze cover-ups, caftans and sun dresses are my dream beach attire. Chic, comfy, breezy, and they mean you don’t have to bust out your bikini before it’s time. And by “time” I mean, “back in time.” Well, even though that doesn’t really make sense, you know what I’m saying.
As a parent, your over-the-top nights get severely limited, and I will go out on a limb and say that the amount of limitation is directly related to the number of kids you have. (My friends who have four boys? Home a lot.) So during my birthday dinner, I was thrilled when a good friend of mine dropped a bomb: her wedding may potentially require guests to wear headresses. “Dream!” I exclaimed. Finally a chance to customize something from Little Doe, a groovy design team who produce all types of stylish shit for your head. I’ve been this close to actually doing it and now I might have an actual reason! So here’s hoping to a fall wedding (hopefully not too far away please, and you know who you are) with a fabulous gown and a kick-ass headdress. And for once I may actually be top heavy.
I am still riding high from what I am calling my happiest birthday ever. I had been regretting organizing and hosting a massive dinner party but when the night finally arrived, I was seriously on cloud nine, watching everyone mingling and chowing. It was a night where everyone rallied to get a sitter and just kicked back and enjoyed some adultness (some even enjoyed too much adultness.) Of course I arrived armed with only an Iphone, and being a Hipstamatic junkie, refuse to snap with another application. Back-track to my reading about this Andy Warhol IPhone case in the New York Times Style Section, which I immediately scooped it up like a big, fat victim. Now fast-forward to my party, where my friend Joby kindly explained that the case actually c*#k blocks taking flash photography, so you’re left in the dark. However, he did suggest that anything super hip requires a bit of suffering, so it really is in step with my life motto: form over function.
An entire wall in my office is scrap-book style. There are inspirational images, pictures of both my kids and friend’s kids, stylish mailings, exhibit invitations, etc, pasted hap-hazzardly across the wall. Whether it’s Sarah’s quirky smile on her wedding day or Jo’s precious birth announcement, I am always happy to look up and see a joyful mish-mash of visuals. Which is why I was struck by the possibilities of this Graham and Brown wallpaper I discovered while reading Lonny. Photos, art and anything meaningful can all be posted in organized and artful way. I find it a little bit genius. Now, I’d probably use it in a guest bathroom or on a single wall in a child’s room because a little goes a long way. But oh, what scrapper’s delight!
My friend Irene raved about an amazing psychic in London with whom you have to Skype. Judge me if you will but I scheduled my meeting asap. To my surprise, during our call I learned she was also a Medium and had connected with my father. After revealing two very crazy messages (if that is what you call them,) she promised to send me our recorded conversation so I could go back and review. So now my mother who is also open to these “things” has been anxiously awaiting the package. It finally arrived today in the form of a…wait for it…cassette tape and I am trying to hunt down an old-school walk man to re-visit my creepy convo. But for now, I found this retro cassette pouch for coins, stickers, crayons and even the odd psychic reading.
I love the attachments that kids form to their stuffed friends. It’s like a developmental instinct to want to adore something imaginary. But whenever I toss my girls the stylish bajillion-dollar handmade dolls I bought each of them for the holidays, they toss them back, grabbing instead a raggety dog (Gemma) and a Jellycat bunny (Rafi.) So what have I learned…that children like snuggly, goofy looking creatures over unrealistic figures wearing expensive looking outfits? Check. I hope to settle the score, however, with some amazing knit pals from Lucky Boy Sunday, a line I’ve loved for a long time. They’re quirky-chic in a Danish kind of way but mushy and lovable at the same time. We’ll see if they stay propped on the bookshelf or get piled under the duvet.
Every year at this time I go outside and blankly stare at a gorgeous patch of just-enough-sun/dripping-in-bougainvillea spot along the side of my house. It sounds dreamy, save for the dead basil and dead rosemary that I so ambitiously planted last Spring. It’s tragic because I love to cook and I have “the spot.” But gardening merely showcases how undisciplined I am (I never did get either child on a nap schedule.) But this year Gemma is old enough to enjoy the spoils of an herb garden and so I might just give it another go. While flipping through a British decor magazine I found this lovely site, and this even more lovely packet: Butterfly seeds! They somehow attract butterflies to your garden for a truly magical moment….and how pretty would that look next to the bougainvillea?
This week my friend Eve and I are taking the kids to “Conrad,“ the swim wisperer of Los Angeles. He teaches by force, meaning, the kids are going under whether they like it or not. You might think we are bad parents but we really just prioritize water safety. Because apparently by Day 5 the munchkins are doing the freakin’ crawl. On Day 1 however, everyone was screaming bloody murder. Bloody. Murder. Gemma worked herself up so much that she puked. And then her friend Zach saw her puke, so he puked. Like Stand By Me style. However, by her third turn, she announced that she wasn’t going to cry anymore, and swam to Conrad with a smile and has been doing so ever since. I’m really not sure where she gets her strong will! This post is a testament to the power of conviction, because I realized that it starts very early on. And it can’t hurt to throw on a cute suit while you’re saying, I think I can.
A friend turned me on to Pop Ups, a Brooklyn based duo who come out to LA frequently to perform their play, “Pasta,” about the search for the greatest tomato sauce. Ah, yes. They use old-school puppets (like, muppets from the 70s,) compose their own music (think: songs about the F train,) and discover the perfect garlic clove for their marinara in Brighton Beach. Or something. Anyway, it’s rad and I’ve recruited all my urbanite pals. We are revving up for our third go this Spring but if you are in New York, it’s worth it! Here, a make-shift playhouse from Vilac for those impromptu subway sing-alongs.