Archives for the month of: August, 2012

It’s no secret that I am insecure about the “mom” title. After my first daughter was born, a friend of mine (who does not want kids, no less) literally said to me, “but you don’t look like a mom.” Let’s just all settle down now, okay. I admit that I have my moments-like when I’m going to Spin wearing Birks and gym socks-when I just want to say, “Relax. I’m cooler than I look.” But for the most part, I think I’m holding up pretty well. Still rockin’ the Genevieve Jones safety pin earrings and I just purchased the Chloe red studded ankle boots that I’ve wanted for years (so I am late to the game for those, negative two points!) I’ve also been coveting a Maison Michel hat for some time as I believe it will affirm my cool mom status, (though clearly only to myself.) And then maybe, just maybe, that will be the push I need to upgrade my gym uniform.

CHICOLOGICAL GUEST POST Zoe of Macaroon Original

As a curator of all things chic in fashion, beauty, and baby goods, Zoe Schaeffer truly has an eye for the “next big things.” Zoe’s blog, Macaroon Original, profiles everything from vibrant new nail polishes to snuggly onesies for baby. Zoe embodies the modern American mama: fashionable, beautiful, and oh yeah, a great parent. Check out what Zoe has to say about her adventure sampling all-natural deodorants.  

Zoe: 

I remember while working as a beauty editor for Mademoiselle, we weren’t allowed to write about deodorant because it was “too gross.” Well…copy that. But as I grow older, learn more about my familial history with breast cancer and read about the dangers of parabens and sulfates in beauty products, I’d say it’s a topic worth broaching, nasty or not. My blog, http://macaroonoriginal.com/ is devoted to all things beautiful, but this not-so-beautiful subject is what’s on my mind this moment, making it hard for me to write about anything else.

Summer in LA is not a choice time to make the big switch, this was my season of transition. When researching brands of natural deodorant to try, I asked a bunch of friends (whose collective response was “yeah, they don’t work”). So I decided to take it to the web. Some of the big name beauty brands were getting slammed left and right, and I will not mention them out of respect. But along came some comments aboutLiving Libations, a company I’ve known about, that have some other groovy products with things like, “Love Wine” and “Seabuckthorn Hot Lover Lips.” Now we’re talkin’! If I’m going to rub essential oils under my arms, it’s gonna be from a company that also makes “Wild Child Healthy Gum Drops.”  Meaning, this might mean a lifestyle change for me too! I remember hearing about their Poetic Pits (Yup! That’s the name) and how its small roll-on has a lovely scent and is cute to boot. And then I read an emphatic quote online from a devoted yogi that said, “I wore this to my Hatha Yoga class and when I came out, someone told me how delightful I smelled.” Really? Let’s give this a whirl. The one I chose was “Rose Glow” (the one the yoga lady suggested) and it’s made up of lovely things like sandalwood, rose otto, and geranium, which sounded better than parabens and aluminum any day.  My road test occurred while blueberry picking in a farm outside LA, where I surrounded myself by safe friends and family (so not to offend anyone outside the inner circle.) And while I kind of reveled in my new modern hippie persona, subtly smelling of floral essences while plucking berries with my children, I must admit, I still felt a little unprotected. I’m used to surviving Manhattan summers, subways and all, feeling like I could brush up against an ex-boyfriend, and still feel cool as a cucumber. But being outdoors in the wide-open plain and still feeling a bit vulnerable was a challenge.

My verdict? While this roll-on is the one I will continue to use (it’ll be amazing on balmy days and cool evenings,) it’s going to take a little getting used to.

Josie….do I smell a new product launch in the works?

One step forward, two steps back. Always, right? We’ve regressed in the bedtime department, big time, and we’re losing our minds. I’m not tired. Where’s Boy Baby. I have to go to the bathroom. Again. And my favorite is, “I had a bad dream” (after being in bed for five seconds.) I’ve been getting anxiety about putting them to sleep, which is so not-what-I-need. So when I tripped across this collection of nature inspired bedding I thought it was so fitting since my girls are like untamed animals these days. This one, a deer caught in headlights, would represent me every night  while trying to cope.

Like most kids, my girls are obsessed with sweets. I don’t know if it was an in-utero-thing (too many vegan cupcakes while pregnant with Gemma) or just an inherited love for desert. So I have to be super mindful of what we bake, mostly because of the weekly birthday party binges. I was given a “brownie recipe” made with black beans, dates, almond butter and apples which turned out to be trickery at its best. It was yet one more reminder that kids can enjoy just about anything if it tastes good. (It passed my taste test, too.) This Ouef monster sweater is what everyone in my house should be wearing….We attack all brownies in sight! Email me if you’d like the recipe….

This is a post dedicated to my friend Allison whom I just found out follows this blog. She is basically the spokesperson for mothers of three girls and has helped me understand how special the dynamic can be. Her oldest just got back from Tripp Lake Camp in Maine, which is basically what many New York transplants do out here: we send them on over to New England to have a traditional East Coast sleep away camp experience-much like I had-sans slouchy EG socks and whipped cheese in a can. (Did I just date myself?) For years now, I’ve dreamed of my girls going to camp with my New York friend’s kids so they can not only have that bond, but get some East Coast edge to boot. So no. Malibu “camp” will not be for us. And did I mention that Tripp Lake is all girls? Below, my favorite splurge for my three lady bugs: Jess Brown. 

Say my naaaaaame! And every color illuuuuuminates. It’s that Florence And The Machine remix that made me dance alone in my home office this morning. It was refreshingly uncool. I’ve been introduced to so much fantastic music through my favorite Soul Cycle spin instructor that I feel like I’m a whole new generation of myself. While I was once a spin skeptic, I actually started the round of applause at the end of class the other day. (Woo! clap clap clap.) While I patiently wait for the arrival of Fly Wheel LA, I am ready to start upgrading my spin wardrobe to match the magic. And although Stella for Adidas is more my speed, these Jeremy Scott for Adidas sneaks are what I feel like I should be wearing while letting loose to my Florence remix (maybe at Fly Wheel?)

I’m obsessed with rugs. Just recently I purchased a gray and white safari print for Cleo’s nursery and it was a total game changer. Our prior rug was actually shag carpet which would give me palpitations when watching the baby discover broken crayons and other shit that could not be retrieved by professional cleaners. Now it’s like a glorious open field…Vilac wooden clutch toys and lovies are strewn about… And ever since last week it’s been crawling central. My mom bawled me out me out for choosing such a light color way but for once in my life I’m glad I ignored her warning.  I’m posting this amazing Madeline Weinrib rug as a reminder to myself of what to buy in my next house when spit up will not be a threat to floor coverings. And with a pattern like this, I can just imagine all the dance parties to be had.

This post comes on the heels of my asking Jon if I should get a nose job. He was like, “Um…What?” Meaning, You’ve made it this long without caring, why care now? True that. You know how every celebrity says they feel sexiest in their forties and better than they did in their twenties? Well, I think I looked better in my twenties (come on, folks) but I do feel better in my thirties. Except for the nose thing, I guess? This week in camp one of Gemma’s friends said that she didn’t like her (Mini Rodini giraffe print) dress, which sparked a whole the-only-thing-that-matters-is-that-YOU-like-your-dress convo. This Lucky Boy Sunday noseless wonder is a plush reminder of how important it is to teach our children how to feel about themselves. It’s a lot of pressure on us as parents but hopefully if I do my job right, my girls will be asking me for nose jobs when they are pushing 40.

Now with three kids it seems as if there is always a party to plan. And I hate myself a little for admitting this, but I kind of hate it. While I’ve been mistaken for being the crafty type in the past, Martha Stewart, I am not. Nor do I enjoy event planning which often results in a dance studio/gymnasium/park fete. So this post is really a biggups to my friend Jessica who threw a really tasteful, quirky, cool party for her son yesterday, and there was nothing over-the-top about it. Save for the “grown-ups” tequilla-spiked snow cone option, which was quite delightful in the summer heat. But since I’m not as resourceful as Jess, when I found these little Signe Sugar paste hearts that you can throw on top of any vanilla-no-toppings treat (so to speak,) I got excited. And I think, Maybe if I gather up enough shortcuts like these, I might actually cheat Martha.

In the wake of my on-going nasty infection, my girls wanted to have our 5:00 Dance Party in my home office, which happens to have a domed ceiling and over-sized chandelier. It’s like a mini club, if you will. The song of choice was by Martin Solveig, and the “choice” song usually gets played at least ten times, mind you. Needing a real release, I taught the kids how to dance with their hair. I was like, “just let it all go!” And so we shook it like a poloroid picture. I realized how cathartic it can be to just get caught up in a moment from time to time. While we were grooving, Rafi found these crazy masks from a friend’s wedding and it made my think of these little gems and how much sweeter they would look on a dancing two year old (rather than the plaster cast Eyes Wide Shut style that she unfortunately discovered.) But the power of the beat transcended all oddities. Oonse!

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