Packing for Summer Essentials

Last summer, we did a driving tour of France for two weeks, driving down from Paris, to Dijon, the Grande Route des Alpes, on to the French Riviera and Provence. It was a trip of a lifetime, and I have never seen such diverse natural beauty - from snow-capped mountains to crystalline ocean shores - in one country.

Part of enjoying that trip was the relaxed easy from which we moved from stop to stop.  That could not have been achieved without packing light.

Because of my frequent travel for work, I learned to be a rather ruthless packer for more formal wear, but it was a little bit of a challenge for this kind of  casual trip, especially when dealing with so many climates.  I've done my best to recreate my suitcase for you below, and as you can see, with a little handwashing here and there, 9 pieces of clothing can make for a fabulous, stylish and worry-free summer travel wardrobe.  This continues to be my summer formula this year as well with small variations here and there.

View of boats from Cannes, France

Packing for Summer Essentials by c'estca featuring rubber shoes






































Tops:
1. Fun top in your accent color - I always like a peasant-inspired style for summer
2. Breezy white blouse which can be punched up with accessories or a cover-up on the beach
3. Striped Breton top - Saint James' shirts are indestructable and worth every penny
4. Soft white t-shirt - I actually prefer longer length sleeves even in summer, for sun protection, and the thin cotton ensures I won't get too hot
5. Light cardigan in a neutral - for chilly evenings, air conditioning, or mountain tops

Dress:
1. Black dress in cotton or linen - can be a comfortable touring outfit or jazzed up for evening

Bottoms:
1.  A white skirt - much preferred over shorts, and just as cool and comfortable
2.  Black linen trousers - comfy, cool, and surprisingly easy to refresh with a bit of ironing
3.  Black knit skirt - day or evening, comfortable and chic

Accessories:
1.  Statement necklace - I actually take two and alternate, but this horn one works well with almost anything
2.  Sparkly earrings - dresses up practically anything to take you to dinner and so small to pack
3.  Floppy hat - again, sun protection is very important!
4.  Sunglasses - I prefer tortoiseshell for my complexion, make sure the style and color suits you before jumping on a particular trend though
5. 2 scarves - yes, even in summer these are great treats.  Tie loosely around your neck or even around the band of your hat for a pop of color.
6.  A bangle or bracelet in your accent color

Shoes:
1.  An interesting sandal or flip flop - but make it special!  I love these heart detailed rubber sandals from YSL.  They are a few seasons old, but they go with me everywhere in the summer.
2.  A great walking shoe* in a ballerina style - for me, nothing beats the comfort of Chanel flats for my wide feet, but there are plenty of other designers doing this style.
3.  A comfy sandal which can be dressed up or down - for me, it's the Oran sandal from Hermes, but the key here is they should fit like a glove, wear well, and look nice enough to go anywhere.

Bags:
1. Tote or shoulder bag in neutral color: the essentials for me are clean lines, go anywhere style, and quality.  It's okay to take your good bags on holiday, I swear. **
2.  Clutch in a neutral color - casual enough for days when you don't need to lug a heavy bag, and nice enough for night.

Polish:
A neutral shimmer on the toes wears well and won't show chips.  I go clear or totally bare on my fingers, so as not to worry about manicures while traveling!


Alight, now for a side-rant on traveling shoes and bags:

* I am not a fan of sports-styled walking shoes and sneakers, esp. in the summer.  I feel they look too clunky and out of place in a chic wardrobe.  I choose shoes that can go with slacks as well as skirts, and if it doesn't pass the skirt test then perhaps it's a bit too sporty for my needs.  I am a firm believer that you can find a comfortable but elegant shoe for most city-touring kind of trips.  I never understand people who look like they are about to climb a mountain when they arrive ready to tour Paris or New York.  What kind of rough terrain or survival challenge do they expect to meet in the pastry shop or museum?  If you wouldn't wear hiking boots to your home town to stroll around, why would you do it somewhere else (especially where you plan to be memorialized by photo)?  My one exception to sporty sandals are Birkenstocks.  Especially if you have foot troubles, these can be a lifesaver.  I think they are an excellent alternative to less-supportive shoes but still look very presentable with their variety of colors and styles.

** Many people let their good bags linger in their closets while they travel.  Your things are meant to be used, so use them!  Of course I am still talking of the city trip here, and not safari, but if you love your Birkin every day of the week at home, why wouldn't you take it with you on holiday?  My nice bags go with me everywhere (in carry-on, never check).  Yes, they have to be looked after, but it's no different than when I am  using them in my own neck of the woods.  Don't leave your bag open or unattended, don't put loosely capped bottles of liquid inside, and don't walk down dark alleys at night.  Really, that should apply whether you are wearing a Chanel or no-name canvas tote.  Take care of your things and they'll last forever, don't use your things and they'll end up fetching a ton in your estate sale - which would you choose?  

<end ranting> ;)



Traveling is about being in the moment, taking in all the new experiences, and being ready for any adventure that may call.  To me, that also means being comfortable and confident in your wardrobe, feeling like you can go anywhere dressed just as you are, stylishly and lightly.  Worry about your clothes before you leave, so you won't have to when you arrive.  With some carefully edited packing, you can enjoy your summer plans without all that baggage!




 

Doing Away with the Extra

When we moved to Europe, we decided to take just the bare bones of our household goods with us -- less than half our things, in the spirit of living in a smaller space and living "lighter."  The remaining items went into storage (including much of my clothing -- see a previous post on that), and we quickly learned that our new set up was more than enough to live well.

Now having returned to the US, I am faced with all those things which we have been reunited with from storage.  Though we have the room to keep all these extras, I don't want to.  They are all slowly percolating their way to the garage and from there, charity or eBay, and it feels great!   I want more blank spaces, thinking room, and spacious shelves in my life, and so saying goodbye to these former treasures is getting easier and easier.  Why did I need a 5 pc place setting of white Crate and Barrel buffet dishes, which I never used?  Our own regular white dishes work just as well.  Not to mention the extra-extra set of flatware (no one needs more than two sets of flatware, no matter how you reason), the monkey bread mold pan (which should NOT be used regularly, for obvious reasons to my waistline), and the french press coffee set (pretty but why get it out when the fancy cappuccino make currently on the counter does the same more easily).

Truth is, I would be embarrassed to have my European friends come over and see this plethora of "extra" all over our house right now.  Their homes were never crowded over with stuff the way our American homes are.  Though spaces were smaller, there were plenty of clean surfaces and spots for everything.  Kids were no excuse, they had places for their toys and they didn't take over the entire house.  And people used their good things, because they bought the best they could afford, and they couldn't afford not to use it.  It's not like they had room for "everyday" plates and "nice plates" and "only at Christmas plates" in one little cupboard.  Clutter is not chic, it is not elegant and it is not comfortable.

Anyway, the house-wide purge has been raging these past few days, and much to my surprise it is striking all kinds of places.  Here are some tips I've learned along the way:

1.  I can be a book-lover without being a book-hoarder. 
I loved having lots of stacks of books around, having all those choices to read and re-read just seemed comforting, but they were taking over one full room in our new house.  I kept every book that had ever come into my life -- which was way too many!  Now I am down to one third of that collection, largely because of the ingenious little Kindle. Many of the classics can be downloaded for free on Kindle (think Shakespeare, Jane Austen, etc.), so I have parted with the paper versions.  I have only kept sentimental books, or things I know I won't find free or buy again on Kindle.  I have also parted with all those "airplane" reads - the chic lit you read one time and toss aside.  I know they won't be read again, and that's okay, but it doesn't give it the right to permanently move into my house.  And gone are all the dated books from college on social security or the courts system or group psychology.  I won't read them again, and there's more current reads out there if I ever do get that particular intellectual pang again.

2.  I can throw makeup away - it is physically possible!
Much of my makeup falls into two categories - love and hate.  I have almost-empty pans of much loved products which have just a scootch bit of product left.  They are saved under the rationale that I must finish to the last droplet or keep it to remember the name for eventual repurchase.  On the other side of the spectrum is the untouched stuff.  Tried once or twice, it wasn't my color, but as I spent good money perhaps it would become my color one day... right?  Wrong.  I chucked out the lot, and replaced my loves.  Now my make-up kit is half its size and makes be smile every time I open the drawer.

3.  Acknowledge I will never be the scrapbooker (or hobby of your choice) of my dreams.
I had grand aspirations that I would scrapbook every moment of my life into a stylized, artistic opus to be admired by captive audiences everywhere.  Only it takes a lot of time.  Time I'd rather be out living scrapbookable moments.  But in the meantime, I collected a supply of odds and ends that take up quite a bit of room.  It's since been culled down to some crafty basics, and some stacks of plain notecards.  When I am feeling particularly creative, I can scrapbook a notecard or greeting card for someone, but I think I'm done pressuring myself into a big expensive hobby that just wasn't me.

4.  I am done beating myself up about mistakes, but I will try very hard not to make more.
One of the reasons I used to have such a hard time letting go of things was I would tell myself, "hey, you spent so much money on all this stuff, and you clearly wanted it at some point!  it's a waste to throw it away!!"  Now, I imagine having to carry all this stuff with me, physically and psychologically, to my next place.  That weighs me down more than the idea that I am getting rid of perfectly good things that don't suit me any more.  My new commitment is not to accumulate anything new until I am 100% certain I will want it with me forever.  This makes shopping more tedious but way less spendy.  Besides, all my unwanted things are either recovering some of their cost on eBay or going to good homes through donation.  I will not guilt myself into clutter ever again!


How do you handle the clutter in your life, and what tips do you have for making your surroundings more chic and comfortable?

 

Hair: Looking Like Your (Best) Self is Chic

This evening, as a break from the dinner party preparations, I took a look through some old photos that I'd recently organized.  As I moved further back in time, I couldn't help but get distracted by something - my hair.  I am sure we all have those "what was I thinking?" kind of moments, but I was having it for every single shot!

As I sorted through the photos, I saw wedges and bobs and pixie cuts (and a mullet-like number I want to burn all evidence of).  Flat-ironed straight and even a post-80s perm (why was I so behind the curve on that one??).  Light brown, highlights, really bad highlights, various shades of red, and even the beet purple so popular with my Eastern European aunties.  Let's not forget the ill-planned blonde, which lasted all of three days, because my roots grew in so quickly.  Did I mention  this was all in the past 10-12 years?

It was entertaining but a little bit mortifying too.  At the time those pictures were taken, I thought my look was the bees knees.  But with a little distance I can now safely say I had some very unflattering styles.  It often looked like it simply belonged to someone else, and I had just snatched it off some bald pate and run away.

The photos I was most pleased with were from the last three to four years, but much like my style, it was an evolution over time to get there.  It started with my slowly finding the best cut to suit my face shape, a modified chin-length wedge withs some layers in the back.  By then, I was living in California and heavily influenced by the popular intense-highlighting trend there.  It was very stripey and choppy.  I jumped on that bandwagon, but I never really felt comfortable with the results.  It needed a lot of maintenance and just didn't suit me, but I felt like I needed to do it in order to feel properly groomed.

I was getting married around that time, and I had read all the advice about having a timeless hairstyle.  I knew the heavy highlights would be a trend I would not care to remember in my wedding photos 20 years from now, so I toned them down a bit. But I still kept some light highlights, because to not have anything "done" to my hair made me feel naked!  (I am so glad I made that choice, because the wedding photos today do not make me cringe like the rest of them do.)

Shortly after the wedding, we moved to Europe.  And then another realization struck.  Away from California, I suddenly had perspective on the brassy bottle blondes -- it wasn't just trendy, it was artificial and harsh.  And it was definitely not me.

By now, I was sporting a more "natural" look, though it still needed to be maintained.  I sought out a hair salon in Brussels and explained what I was looking for.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: "I have highlights, and it's been a couple months, and I need the roots touched up."
Stylist, lips pursed and brow furrowed: "But why?"
Me, now also furrowing brow: "Because they are starting to show, where it's growing in, here."
Stylist: "Hmmm..." as he tousles my hair.
Awkward silence while I wonder what the word for "highlights" is in French.
Stylist: "You know, maybe it's too much blonde here if you can see the roots so sharp.  Look at how faded these ends are.  I think you need to rest your hair a bit."
Me: "But I need to have some highlights to brighten my face."  That's what all the style segments on talk shows say about 'em, haven't you heard??
Stylist, "Yes, but you know there is a danger in going too far from your natural color.  You know the color you are usually best-suited for?  The one you are born with.  This way you can be sure it matches your complexion."
Me: "Hmmm..."

Long story short, he convinced me to return to my natural color, one I hadn't seen in years.  I felt practically goth in my darker hair, but also a little daring for making the change.  What he said did make sense - the color you are born with probably does match the rest of you rather well.  And I liked the idea of less chemicals, and less time and money spent at salons.

But the biggest clincher was how it made me feel.  I felt more authentic, more natural, more healthy - and my hair looked it.  Looking at the photos since, I see the brown curls gleaming in the flash and it looks lovely.  I look like the best version of myself, not some hyped-up trend of the moment or celebrity.  I stopped looking for fashion, and found my style instead.  It was there all along, and that was chic.

Sidetracked...

This coming Saturday we will be hosting a dinner party for twelve, and I am really looking forward to having company.  The theme is White Nights of Russia, and the menu will consist primarily of zakuski (the Russian version of tapas).  There are many dishes to prepare and errands to run and things to do around the house, however I am in the middle of a case of college-like procrastination.  I am compelled to do just about anything other than what's on my task list.  Oh, well.  That translates into the following projects attacked and accomplished:

1.  All CDs have been uploaded into iTunes, backed up on Time Capsule, and then removed from the house (sold or donated).  I am done will one pile of clutter!
2.  Childhood photos and momentos have been recategorized, organized and thinned down to fit into one box.  Less is more, and no one is really interested in my old dolls but me.
3.  Scented sachets have been made and installed in all our closets.  Yup, I have my priorities in order.  Anyway, here's how to make them.

DIY Closet Sachets

First, find yourself some muslin pouches or other small bags of breathable (natural) fabric.  I found these on Amazon.com, though if you are handy with a needle and thread (which I am not) I presume they could be made by hand.

Cotton Muslin Drawstring Bag

Next, choose your essential oils.  Here is my preferred line-up, which is well suited for closet sachets as Lavender and Eucalyptus both have moth-repelling effects.  The rest are there just because they smell good.

Eucalyptus, Lavender, Clove Bud, Sweet Orange, Bergamot Essential Oils

Incidentally, we use these essential oils to prepare our own cleaning products, so they are always around the house.  If you don't have a plethora of essential oils laying about, fear not, this works well with just one oil.  Pick your favorite.  (A good source for oils is Whole Foods, by the way.)

Next, find yourself some dried lavender.  We have a heap of it left over from our driving trip though Provence last summer.  I make potpourri with it as well.

Dried Lavender

Next, fill the bag about 2/3 full with lavender.  Shake approximately 3 drops of each oil you are using.  This is not a precise recipe, your nose will tell you when it smells good.

Make sure the oil droplets hit the lavender, and not the fabric.

 Close the bag up and give it a squeeze to blend and release the fragrance.  Voila, you are done!

The finished product

It takes just a few minutes to put together, but now every time I open my closet door I get a great waft of lovely scent!

Now, what else could I possibly do that's not on my must-do list...  Do you get sidetracked easily?  What do you like to do to procrastinate?




 

An Earful of Advice...

An old and dear friend of mine asked for my opinion today on a skirt she was eyeing from Ann Taylor.  I thought the skirt was nice, but I wondered how it might fit into the rest of her wardrobe.  Instead of just saying yay or nay (which is probably what I should have done), I decided to give Polyvore a try to come up with some alternative suggestions.  Ann Taylor has a lot of great new things for fall.  So of course, I got carried away and planned her an entire new autumn/winter wardrobe.  Oops!  Meanwhile, Polyvore is so much fun, I can see it get very addicting...

This is for my chic New York City friend, an urban professional with a modern but classic sensibility...

For Ems Ann Taylor A/W in Neutral by c'estca featuring a burberry umbrella


Po

This is the Purse That Started it All!

Hermès Good News cross-body bag, in Etoupe Taurillon Clemence Leather

A Style (R)evolution -- Part 2: Blame it on the Purse

Moving to Europe, I had far more excitement than misgivings about making the big change.  And yet I was apprehensive about how I would adjust to a new culture, a new lifestyle, a new language... We were leaving Southern California, the land of shopping malls, freeways and friendly "Housewives of Orange County" (yup, some even lived in our neighborhood!), not to mention walk-in closets and storage space galore.  Our new home, Brussels, Belgium couldn't have been a more perfect polar opposite.  Atmospheric rainy cobblestone streets filled with bi- and tri-lingual baguette-toting Eurocrats... a place where carb intake was considered normal and even appreciated (hence their mastery of chocolate, beer and waffles).  But I digress...

Our new apartment in Belgium was a 19th century maison de maitre, with beautiful plaster work and molding and wood floors.  We were lucky, though, that it had been remodeled to include some modern amenities, including a few small closets.  As our Belgian friends liked to frequently remind us, this was NOT the norm and we should consider ourselves lucky.  We did.  

We moved in, and I tried to artfully arrange my pared down wardrobe in the new space.  I had to get everything - clothes, purses, shoes, folded items, undergarments, pjs - all into one space PLUS it somehow had to fit all our bed and table linens.  It was crammed to the gills, but I did it!

My Belgian Closet, a couple months into our move.

We settled in, and one of my favorite new hobbies became cafe-going.  My definition of really living it up involved sitting outside at one of those small tables... ah, that was the life.  I would step out my front door, march up the street about 50 yards to a pedestrian riddled shopping zone filled with cafes and restaurants.  I could sit there for hours and admire all the outfits as they passed by.  Yes, I am an outfit oogler, I confess.  A few of the things I learned while sartorially staring at the Bruxelloises saunter past?

1.  They care about how they look when the leave the house.  

By American standards, they look "dressed up" even for the most banal errands.  Meaning, they are not in sweatpants or pajama bottoms or sports-purposed shorts.  No one looks like they ran out of the door with wet hair and a cup of coffee from Dunkin' Donuts.  Yes, people may start the day a little later as result, but darnit the outcome looks good.

2.  They invest in quality, well-fitting clothes.

The way a shoulder was joined to the rest of the suit, or the fine loft on a well-knit cardigan, or the way a skirt draped... these things were obvious even if I was not very close to the wearer.  Oftentimes I found myself lingering for one last look of a person wearing a fantastic jacket or some such thing -- not because of a logo or reflective stripe, but because it was beautifully made and beautifully worn.  

3.  They pay a lot of money for their clothes, so they choose wisely.

The bargain-hunter in me was surprised to see people enter fancy boutiques and exit with a bag!  I mean, there wasn't even a sale going on.  In the States, I loved popping into a Marshall's or TJ Maxx or Macy's and picking up a little bargain.  Here, sales happened twice a year, and while they were nice, people shopped outside the sales seasons too.  Prices were steeper, but it made them focus on only what they really needed.  They might go into a shop and buy a jewel of a sweater, and it be the only purchase they make that winter.  But they would treasure it, and wear it for years, because it was carefully considered and selected.

4.  They are picky about what they buy.

While in the shops, I noticed people having much more in-depth conversations about the products with salespeople.  Questions like "where was it made?"  "how was it made?"  "how do I take care of it?" were very common.  Trying something on was a serious event.  The husband, child, and salesladies from two different counters could hover around a woman as she tested a dress from different angles.  She might spend 20 minutes discussing, considering, moving around in the garment, before deciding not to take it after all.  There was no shame in passing up something mediocre and holding out for just the right thing instead.  And the salespeople never seemed put out by this behavior either.  

5.  No one looks chic if they are walking funny.

Meaning, just about everyone wore sensible shoes.  Brussels is a wet city with lots of uneven sidewalks.  Stilettos were virtually unseen, but practical boots, flats and wedges were all around.  Rarely, I would see a woman daintily picking her way between cobblestones in sky high heels, arms akimbo as she balanced precariously -- invariably it was an American or Brit on holiday.  (Brits seem to have a lot of the fashion foibles we Americans do...)

6.  Everyone looks good in black, or grey, or navy...

People seemed to gravitate towards darker colors and neutrals more often than the fun green shirt that goes with just one thing in your closet.  Coming from California, I was used to lots of resort-wear colors - but that also meant investing in coordinating single-purpose accessories and accompaniments.  People here didn't have the room for those kinds of fripperies, and dark colors and neutrals could be invested in for the long haul, looked slimming and always looked stylish.

7.  Everyone could afford at least a little luxury.

As we slowly built up new friends and acquaintances, it seemed like they spent more on luxuries than our American friends.  We wondered how this could be, because we knew the cost of living in Europe to be higher and credit card debt per capita lower than in the US.  I won't get into statistics here, but I think this anecdote explains what might be happening:  In the US, I had friend who hoped someday to have a Louis Vuitton wallet.  He talked about it often, but said he couldn't afford it.  But he did afford big sprees during the Nordstrom's sales, and going out to eat almost nightly.  Our European friends saved up and planned for purchases -- and it included high end, high quality items too -- rather than binges or bad habits.  It's about making choices.  

While I could go on with this list for a very long while, I will stop there for now to share with you my biggest personal style epiphany in those early months.  It happened shortly after our move.  I have always had a love of purses, and considered myself a collector of sorts (at least quantity if not always quality).  I had a purse in every color of the rainbow, from Coach to Furla to Gucci.  And I had this "collect-them-all" kind of mentality, where I wanted to have a purse from each of the major purse designers.  I was slowly working my way around the list, when I got to Hermes.  No, I wasn't working alphabetically, but Hermes was just one area I was too intimidated to cross.  I was certain it would be too expensive right now, but maybe someday...

That's when my spouse reminded me that I was talking just like my American friend with the wallet lust.  Someday, someday, well, why not make it today?  By chance, the Hermes boutique was less than a 10 minute walk from our apartment.  On one of our evening strolls soon after, we decided that I should stop fogging up the window and actually go in.  The rest, as they say, is history.

I found a purse I fell in love with then and there, and it came home with me that night.  It was a messenger style in this lovely taupe color (I'll post a pic tomorrow) and gorgeous leather.  It was better quality than anything else I owned, and more expensive than all but my diamond jewelry, and when I wore it I think I hovered a few inches above the ground... I was in purse heaven, and in a totally new way.  

Ordinarily, when I bought something new, the thrill was in the acquisition and also maybe the first time wearing it.  After that, it joined the ranks of the ho-hum and I really didn't get too excited after that.  But this Hermes purse was special.  It was my jewel, my little treasure.  I would want it to last forever, and I planned on building my life around it... Ok, maybe I exaggerate a bit.  But not by much.  I had a thrill each and every time I wore it, and it didn't diminish over time.  It made me want to have more jewels in my wardrobe -- things I could feel joyous about wearing every day for years to come -- rather than those cheap fixes that cost a lot but left me feeling empty. 

It was my ah-ha moment, and I was hooked.  Suddenly, when I went shopping, I started examining every item as if it would be chained to me forever.  Does this item fill a gap in my wardrobe?  Would I buy it for twice this price or only if it were a deal?  Would I want this 2 or 5 or 10 years from now?  Would it last?  Is this worthy of being worn with my lovely Hermes bag?  

My shopping habit trickled to a standstill.  I still spent the time researching, examining, discussing with salespeople, but I was happy to walk away empty handed if nothing met my criteria.  It appears some of the shopping habits of my newfound compatriots had worn off on me...

A Style (R)evolution - Part 1: More is Better, Right?

This weekend, I plan on paring down my closet.  Again.  As in, easily the third major reduction since we moved back to the States about 6 months ago.  And it got me thinking about my style evolution, because if the eyes are a mirror to a person's soul, a closet is a mirror to a person's style, no?

It wasn't too long ago that I was of the "more is better" variety when it came to clothes, bags and shoes.  I could blame the US consumerist-instant-gratification culture that convinces us to keep keepin' up with the Jones.  I could blame my shopaholic mother who has never passed a sales rack, a knick nack, or a multi-pack she didn't like.  (Hey that rhymes AND it's true!)  Or I could blame my pathological compulsion for matching sets of everything, in every color - which you can guess easily leads to mass accumulation.   Coulda, shoulda, woulda... Fact is, I ended up with a lot of stuff.  Stuff I spent a lot of money on, which I wore occasionally, and which more often than not, left me feeling with I-have-nothing-to-wear-itis.

When we lived in California, we redid the master closet for maximum storage using the Container Store Elfa System.  We bought matching wooden hangers at IKEA and clear plastic shoe boxes, and sorted everything by type and color into a veritable rainbow of wearables.  When guests came over and we gave them a tour of the house, my favorite reaction would come from this closet. All the women would oooh and aaah and all the husbands would grumble and try to pull them away before they got too many ideas of their own.  That reaction left me feeling, dare I admit it, a little proud.  Everybody loved my big beautiful closet!  Clearly my life choices had all been correct, since they led me to this proud moment of external validation (yes, there is some sarcasm in there.)

My closet in California: shoes, tops, jackets, skirts on one side.

Purses and accessories on a rack at the bottom.  Pants and long skirts on the left.

Central island storage for casual clothes.

(These photos don't even include the guest closet where I kept my dresses and seasonal coats. Ugh!)  I remember someone once asked how many tops or shoes or purses did I really own.  I had no idea, so I later went back and counted.  Somewhere upwards of 50 shoes, 75 skirts, well over 100 tops... on and on.  At the time, it didn't sound like more than one person could reasonably wear, it just sounded plentiful and splendid!  I loved clothes, and I spent a lot of time shopping for them, taking care of them, and figuring out how to wear them.  I generally left the house looking well put-together, and often got compliments on my matched ensembles.

What was not readily visible, however, was me, ironing until 2am on a Saturday night, to keep things neat and tidy and together.  Or me, standing in my underwear for 20 minutes near tears because I was late for a meeting but couldn't figure out what to wear.  Oops.

Still, I could have continued on this path had it not been for the fact that we moved to Europe.  We expected our new place in Europe would be small, that it may not have walk-in closets or (gasp!) any closets at all.  But being a short train ride from Paris would certainly make up for any of these incoveniences, so I was willing to make some sacrifices even when it came to clothes.

We put about half our things in storage, and that included my closet.  I had to pare down to just the "essentials."  That's when I found that I didn't have very many essentials at all.  Sure, I had about 8 pairs of black pants, but none that I would feel good about wearing reliably.  I had a pair for high heels, a pair for flats, ones I could wear on fat days, one for skinny days and high heels, one for evenings but only in spanx with that special sparkly top, a pair with the worn hems that I couldn't part with, and several bought on sale that looked cheap though unworn.  You get the drift.  They all went into storage, along with a lot of other stuff.  The high heels I couldn't walk in for more than a few minutes, the bags that matched just those one special pair of shoes or skirt, the stack of shorts I never wore but held on to just because I might wear them some day.

We knew we would be in Europe for a couple years or so, so it wasn't like I was saying goodbye forever.  It's not like the things would get out of date (I am a pretty classic dresser anyway).  They would just have a rest, while I would trot about Europe, and then we would be reunited in no time.  Looking back, this was probably the kindest way to break my bad habit, because I didn't feel any pang of guilt or loss as we closed up the last of the boxes.

Little did I know then that I was saying goodbye to those old clothes and my old way of shopping and dressing too...

Stay tuned for A Style (R)evolution -- Part 2: Blame it on the Purse

Day Trip to NYC

Last Saturday we spent a jam-packed and rather thrilling day in NYC.

We took the train VERY early from New Jersey to be at our first destination, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, bright and early.  In particular, we were there to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit, which I'd heard rave reviews about (along with accompanying tremendous crowds).  Luckily, we made it just before opening, and were about 20 or 30 people from the start of the line to enter.

Alexander McQueen, Savage Beauty, runs through July 31st.

We didn't take any pictures inside the exhibit, but a great overview beyond what I could describe in this blog is available here.

Even if you are not a fashionista, you could easily find something to intrigue you at this exhibit.  It's a retrospective of his collections, from his early days on Savile Row to his last show before his death in 2010.  Curated to about 100 of his designs, it captures some of the otherworldliness which his shows submerged the viewer.  the theatricality and magic that his shows could provide.  Rather than just a clothing designer, McQueen was an artist who expressed himself through clothes.  Only when you see the pieces in person can you see the level of workmanship and tailoring in addition to the artistry.  Somewhere between graceful and grotesque, McQueen pushed the notion of dichotomy to beautiful heights.  (One of my favorites: http://blog.metmuseum.org/alexandermcqueen/ensemble-girl-who-lived-in-tree/)

After touring the McQueen exhibit, we wandered around a bit more and stumbled upon a section dedicated to medieval Iberian pottery, housed in a beautiful period Spanish patio.  It reminded me very much of our last trip to Sevilla.

Spanish Patio

We also enjoyed a brief stay in the sculpture courtyard.  It's a great place to rest your feet or sketch one of the many marble artworks.

Sculpture Courtyard

Next, we headed to Chelsea, to make a requisite visit to the Alexander McQueen boutique.  I am in love with his knuckle clutches and military inspired jackets.  Like so:

LEOPARD PONY KNUCKLE-BOX CLUTCH

$2,095.00

Buy at Alexander McQueen

MILITARY WOOL FROCK COAT

$2,395.00

Buy at Net-A-Porter

As is to be expected, exceptional craftsmanship = expensive.  Sigh.  Maybe when I hit my goal weight... hmmmmmm.

After a light lunch at the Chelsea Market, we tool a brief stroll up to High Line Park.  Once an abandoned elevated train track destined for demolition, it was transformed to a beautiful park high above the city streets by community activists.  It runs through Chelsea and the Meatpacking districts and makes for great people-watching on a sunny day.  

City view from High Line Park.

It's easier to catch a breeze from above!

Planting beds and seating make the space linger-worthy.

With the afternoon still ahead of us, we decided to hit Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village, which was absolutely hopping with life.  

The Washington Square Arch, on the park's northern edge, had a public piano located underneath.  

Notice the lovely little old lady clinging to the side of the piano on the left; she stood there mesmerized by the music.
We were transfixed by her.  May we always find pleasure in the simple things!

Above, the sky just sparkled the perfect cerulean blue.

Below, an artist worked on his sand art mandala.  

People frolicked in the fountain.
(I didn't know you could do that!)

And one lone man frolicked with his pigeons.
(Um, I didn't know you could do that either! I am pretty sure he was feeding them or he was some kind of pigeon whisperer.)

Gratuitous flower shot.

It's a bit blurry but I tried to capture the big fat bumble bee which had landed here.
It was bending the blossom with its heftiness.

All that activity made us thirsty, so we headed over to our favorite Greenwich Village bar, Bar'rique, for some refreshing cocktails.  Try to score a seat by the open windows, and you will have infinite conversation fodder.

Bar'rique - 264 Bleecker Street Between 6th and 7th Ave.

By then, it was time to head over to Buddakan for an early dinner.  So early in fact that we ended up having most of the restaurant to ourselves!  Don't be intimidated by the chic decor and dramatic staircase entrance to the main dining room, this place serves some very good food at reasonable prices (for New York).

Buddakan - 75 9th Ave, NYC

We shared several dishes, and it was more than enough for two.  The dim sum - Mushroom and Sugar Snap Pea Siu Mei were light but flavorful and in handmade wrappers.  The Hoisin Glazed Pork Belly appetizer was, well, my mouth is watering just thinking about it again so that should tell you.  For our main course, we had the Wild Mushroom Chow Fun and Black Pepper Beef.  I have never had more tender morsels of beef, ever.  A delight.  For desert, we also split the weeping Chocolate Cake with Jasmine Green Tea ice cream.  You will NOT be disappointed.  With drinks and tip, the meal came to about $130 for two.  So very worth it, we will definitely be coming back.  

Between the drama of the McQueen exhibit and the ambiance of Buddakan prepared us for the last and greatest adventure of the day: Sleep No More.  Sleep No More is described as an "immersive production" loosely based on Shakespeare's play Macbeth.  What's that, you say?  Imagine Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut, but set it in the 20s and spray a light coat of blood over the whole thing.  Now place yourself in the center, and c'est ca -- Sleep No More.   

This is how it unfolded.  You turn up to a block of warehouses on West 27th Street.  On the door is a small brass plate that denotes the McKittrick Hotel.  This is the fantasy world created by the show's producers.  You enter a darkened stairwell and are led up to a "concierge desk" where you "check in" for your stay.  At this point you and your party are each handed playing cards of different suits and you are ushered along further dark corridors until you are expelled into a 1920s club scene.  At the bar you can order a cocktail, on the stage a sultry Jessica-Rabbit type begins to give instructions.  All the actors are in character and you are about to enter their world.  

They recommend splitting up from your group (hence the different playing cards) and I do believe that experiencing the show alone does increase the sense of disorientation and restlessness - but we did not.  I am a coward and I like to cleave my sweaty palm to someone familiar as we enter this very mysterious world.  

You are called up in small groups and each given a plain, almost bird-like mask to wear.  The rules are simple - once you enter, the mask stays on, and there is no talking.  You are allowed to touch the objects and rifle through the rooms at your leisure.  You will come across scenes being played out by actors, or see one lone actor roaming about.  Feel free to watch or follow, or explore on your own.  There are 6 floors and an unending variety of hidden rooms and passageways. 

The rooms range from a hotel front lobby, to Macbeth's master bedroom, to a hospital ward to a candy shop.  There are so many nooks and crannies to explore, and each one has been painstaking filled with artifacts, letters and objets that add to the storyline.  Photos and commentary via the New York Times are here.  (According to the New York Times, 200 artists spent four months working on these little details, and they pay off).  

We were there three hours, and it passed like a dream - or in some cases, more like a nightmare.  The scenes we stumbled across seemed to skip across time but you could put together a compelling narrative with a little help from Shakespeare.  Beware, there is blood, and violence, and nudity, and a lot of unexpected twists and turns.  If you are patient, a scene will unfold before your very eyes and reach a surprising crescendo in moments, only to dissipate like smoke.  Sometimes you and the actors are alone, other times you are surrounded by other audience members also observing.  The effect of the masks is both chilling and emotional, and keeps you at a voyeuristic proximity to the actors while distancing yourself from the other "observers."

In case you have any interest in seeing the show, I won't describe things in too much detail but I will share some hints:  Wear sensible shoes and avoid heavy coats or bags (they recommend you check everything but your pants basically) -- you will literally find yourself running to keep up with the action and the masks can get very hot.  Be wary of being the first off the elevator, and if a bald person invites you into a tight closet, be prepared to part with a bit of... something.  I won't say what.  

Due to popularity, Sleep No More has an extended run through September 5, 2011.  Tickets at Ovation Tix.

Le Weekend

I have been awol the past few days in preparation of and in the enjoyment of the most delicious weekend.  Friday I organized a special evening at home to celebrate the completion of a major work project.  It involved flower arrangements and hand-written menus, favorite foods and chilled cava and strawberries.  Needless to say, the evening passed most deliciously and it was very difficult to rise at 5am the following morning.  However, that is exactly what we did because we were due for a full day in New York City and had to make the early train.

Saturday in New York was exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable.  It merits its own post, which I will prepare for tomorrow.  In the meantime, I will share with you a moment from our much more relaxed Sunday.  We rose quite late (alright, one of us later than the other, what can I say, I have the gift of sleep?) and drove out to buy cheese from our local organic dairy.  After hob-nobbing with the goats, we continued our lazy Sunday drive and hit a couple roadside stands and organic farms.  'Tis the season here in New Jersey, and summer tomatoes are in their prime.  We lunched on the tomatoes, still sun-warmed, with just a hint of good olive oil, salt and pepper, and crusty baguette.

Here is a view from one of the farms where we stopped.  Hope your weekend was delightful as well!

Diet is not part of my vocabulary...

... and unfortunately, it shows.  I enjoy food.  I think that part is probably already obvious.  It is not a reason for living, but it is a significant contributor to living well.  So it should be no surprise that my appreciation for food reflects itself in all aspects of my life, including my thighs.  And my backside.  And maybe a little around the middle... Sigh.

I am picky about food.  Like Remy said in Ratatoille, "If you are what you eat, then I only want the good stuff."  I have earned my plumpness honestly, with full-fat soft French cheeses, roast succulent duck, deep dark molten chocolate cake with whipped creme...  I am not a fast food eater,  and processed foods and frozen meals have never entered my kitchen or my mouth, ever.  So when diets call for cutting out Doritos and McMeals and SnoBalls, and encourage dieters to shop the perimeter of the supermarket for the fresh stuff, I think I am pretty much living the righteous life already.  What more could I do, give up butter?  Champagne?  Mais non!

As I have always been on the heavier side of the scale, I have learned to be comfortable with my weight.  Since clothes are also a big pleasure for me, it's meant finding the right silhouettes and designers that make me feel great.  But it can be limiting sometimes too, but don't we all have our own fashion limitations?  Sure, it would be nice to fit into the sample sizes at Rodarte's sample sale (that's a size 2 in case you are wondering), but I can find plenty of nice things at the Armani outlet in size 14 too.

Up until high school my mom prayed I would just lose that "baby fat" eventually, but it hasn't since panned out (I am now in my early thirties) and the scales have gently tipped upwards over the years.  I still fit into all the high end designers I love -- Armani, Valentino, Chanel -- albeit I generally take the largest size on the rack.  My partner thinks I am beautiful just the way I am.  My health is good, I am happy, so what more should I want?

Well, a lot, actually.  I want to climb the hill that goes up to our development without getting winded.  I want to feel more energetic when I get up in the mornings.  I want to see people I haven't seen in 10 years, and have them exclaim, "wow! you look great!" and actually mean it.  I want to stop getting carded when I try to buy alcohol (it's my darn baby face, and chubby cheeks are the main contributor).  I want to go on the family cruise to Hawaii next Christmas and feel good about being in a bathing suit.  I want to live a long healthy life, with as much opportunity to enjoy and savor and do as possible.

They say losing weight is one of the hardest things to do.  I have never known a "thin" me I can yearn for or visualize.  I have never known a different way to eat, or how to get daily activity.  This is going to be really, really hard.

So today I did something I never thought I would do.  I joined Weight Watchers.  It felt awkward going to the meeting and sitting there with everyone.  It felt like I was making a public confession that I needed help from strangers on a very private matter.  But I am doing it.  Because there are a lot of things I want, even more than fresh warm crepes slathered in Nutella.  Shoot!  Why did I just think of that?  How many points is it, anyway... hmm.

Fantasy Fourth of July Shopping

This 4th of July, I deliberately chose to stay away from the mall.  As part of my evolving philosophy on style and shopping (look out for a separate post explaining that whole affair), and I'm sticking with my resolution to buy only classic, quality pieces that fit gaps in my current wardrobe.  That means having a deliberate shopping plan of things I need (versus things I saw on sale and impulse-bought), so mall sales are no longer that appealing.

However, I could not ignore the piles of emails in my inbox alerting me to the fact that there would be some serious bargains to be had this weekend, so I decided to get my shopping fix by hitting the internet instead.  It's no secret that one of the delights of internet shopping is you can put as many things in your cart as you like, mull them over for days at a time, and then pull the trigger (or not) after you've had a good think.  It's hassle free, I never feel pressured by a sales person and don't have to get out of my pajamas, so what's not to like?  It's like fantasy football but with shopping.  Awesome.

Some of the ladies on PurseForum were in a tizzy about the Saks sale today, but I didn't find much, at least online.  But Net-a-Porter, on the other hand, did have quite a selection for me, and I ended up filling up my virtual cart with a number of interesting ponderables which I have been letting simmer for a couple days.  On my shopping list: a simple black cardigan, a white blouse, and a white casual t-shirt.  I am also pre-planning for winter, so I don't pass up good deals on tights.  I am also in the market for winter brogues, preferable Church's.  In my cart: a black cotton cardigan from McQ, a Ralph Lauren Black Label white shirt, an Stella Mccartney ivory t-shirt, grey Falke tights, and tan brogues - by Church's no less!  It was practically kismet, no?

Rather than pull the trigger right away, I let everything percolate a few days while running the danger that things might get sold out in my size.  I like to live life on the edge, huh?  Anyway, I've gotten to the point where everything that comes into the house has to be a "forever" kind of match, not a "just for now, until I find the real one" kind of stop-gap.  It was fun having all those things in my virtual cart, but how fun would they be hanging in my closet?

After a good deal of consideration, here is what I decided.  I passed on the cardigan as it was cotton and I am hoping for a wool or wool/cashmere blend.  Actually, I know my "forever" cardigan - it's a Chanel boyfriend style with discreet buttons.  Why buy a placeholder when the exact one I want is out there?  (Albeit currently out of my price range.)   The ivory t-shirt was dumped because it was not the white I really wanted, and the grey tights too because they reminded me of sweatshirt grey sportiness which is just not me.  Bye to the brogues because they were a summery tan whereas I really want a darker rain resistant color like black or dark brown.  Whew, it was like cleaning out my closet without any of the guilt!

So what did I end up with?  Your deductive powers serve you right, my dear Watson: the Ralph Lauren Black Label Delaney white shirt.  I am in love with this shirt.  From the pintuck detailing on the front to the sheerness of the fabric to the french cuffs, this shirt combines everything I ever loved about the previous white shirts I have owned.  This is the "forever" shirt I have been looking for.  I imagine this under a crisp blazer with an Hermes scarf at the throat.  Or more casual chic, over a pair of jeans and a simple camisole, maybe a gauzy linen stole thrown around the shoulders... ah, the pleasures of a classic white shirt!  Now I can't wait for the mail to arrive...

Ralph Lauren Black Label Delaney Smocked Cotton Shirt, was $555, now $222 from Net-A-Porter.com

Summer Barbecue (Indoors)

We had rain in fits and starts this 4th of July weekend, and although we planned to have enjoy a meal on our patio, we ended up taking the party inside.  But to keep the barbecue feeling alive, we did enjoy a festive lunch with my own version of "hot dogs."  These are a little fancier and a lot more flavorful than your typical Oscar Meyer (hey, I'm not knocking Oscar here, just sometimes you want to mix it up) but are quick and easy to do sans outdoor grill.  Grilling in the rain is just no fun, but eating this sandwich is.

Spicy Sausages on Challah Buns

6 spicy Italian sausages
6 challah buns
2 chopped ripe tomatoes
1 chopped sweet onion
1/2 small head of lettuce
mustard (dijon or spicy brown) to taste
salt and pepper

Set your oven to broil and in a non-stick cookie sheet set out your sausages evenly spaced.  With a sharp knife, split each sausage down the center to butterfly it and flatten down slightly.  This will help even the cooking and ensure the sausages are browned nicely all over.

Chop tomatoes, and toss lightly with a couple turns of cracked pepper and salt.  Chop onion and place in a separate bowl.  Wash and dry lettuce, arrange in bowl.

Keep an eye on the sausages, they will be nicely browned in 10 - 15 minutes.  When thoroughly cooked, remove from oven and place sausages on a paper-towel lined plate to absorb any fat.

Split the challah buns and toast in the oven for one or two minutes on broil, then remove buns to a plate.

Each person can assemble their own sandwich but the idea is the same.   Slather one side with mustard (I like egregious quantities of it, so slather is really the right word in this case), and line the other side with lettuce.  Gently nestle a sausage in the center and scatter tomato and onion on top, to taste.  Now try to close it all up and take a big bite.  Repeat.

Serve with a side of good potato chips (like Kettle Chips) and refrigerator pickles (or in a pinch, Claussen's Dill will do).  Oh, and a nice Belgian beer is strongly recommended.

This recipe makes 6 sandwiches.  I will tell you right now *some* people can stuff 2 of these in their gullets in one sitting (ok, yes it was me, and while it was not my proudest moment, it was delish)... so I would say this serves about 3-4 people depending on appetites.

One final word - the secret to a deceptively simple sandwich like this is ingredients (well, isn't that the case with just about everything?).  The rich eggy dough of the challah, the juicy ripe tomato, the handmade sausage from my butcher -- it all adds up.  And whatever you do, please be a mustard snob and get something hearty and zingy to cut through the richness of the meat.  The pleasure of this sandwich is in the contrasts of crisp, tart, rich, salty, etc. and it starts in having a good foundation.  Enjoy!