Fresh Starts

Had a terrible weekend which included but was not limited to visiting a loved one in the hospital, lots of sleep deprivation and a mini-domestic cat-related disaster (not sure The Boy has forgiven Rue who is temporarily known as The Shithead).

That said, today was a beautiful, productive day.

Late night thoughts..

I have two friends who live a lovely life in Brooklyn. They eat all organic, gluten free food, wear locally made clothes, always use reusable bottles and don't use an air conditioner. Bear with me for this tangent, I think it will all come together in the end.

Every time I floss my teeth I think about that study that concluded that plaque buildup can lead to heart disease and stroke. I did not see that coming. As though I need more guilt about only flossing every week. That, in addition to the guilt over not eating all organic food, or refined carbs and occasionally buying bottled water on long car trips when I forget the aluminum one.

Every week there's a new report that reveals a whole new activity we should be avoiding or a supplement we should be taking. We look in shock at our parents, still smoking, who look aghast as their parents have cocktail after cocktail every night. The Romans had their lead pipes, the Chinese had Opium dens. I don't know what my generation's cigarettes will be, but I know that we'll use the same excuse the generations before us used: "we didn't know. We tried our best."

When I was young, I had a kind of mentor in a very wise woman who practically led the Free Love movement of the 60s. Her life was full of accolades and accomplishments on a nation-wide scale. But still, she felt there was still so much to learn and to do. She wanted her headstone to read, "She Tried Her Best."

This woman was generations ahead of her time: she believed everyone had to right to love and marry anyone, that the best food came out of the ground pure and unfettered and the best way to get it was from small farms run by good people. Whenever I am tempted to pass judgement or make a life decision, I try to think of her, and I think of my grandchildren. Is what I am saying and doing inspired by principles that will stand up to the test of time? But here's the rub: I try to always think this way.
I try to always take my vitamins.
I try to remember my aluminum bottle and reusable coffee mug.
I try to wear sunscreen.
I try to frigging floss.

But at the end of the day I have to tell myself, 'hell, at least it's not opium.'

"She Tried Her Best"

Had a lovely weekend full of food, friends and fall. Saw one of my very first fashion inspirations: a girl I went to school with who has the most courageous fashion sense. She wears whatever feels beautiful to her and always looks great. She looked like a gypsy and it looked so fitting with the flaming orange and yellow around her I had to copy it.

Headband: American Apparel, sweater: Wooden ships,
belt: vintage, skirt: H&M, bag: Bass, tights: Ralph Lauren
Boots: Payless

There is something very comforting about swathing yourself in layers and layers of clothes, scarves, jewellry. As though your outfit could carry you for days, could carry you anywhere. Like when I was little and I put on every single one of my mother's scarves and bracelets and danced around to this song.




It's very last year, fashion-wise, but I tend to retain. For me, it's about personal trends. I absorb what feels pertinent and hold on to the rest for later.

Louis Vuitton, Spring 2008

Alberta Ferretti, Spring 2008
(Images courtesy of style.com)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go put on all of my scarves and dance around to a certain song.

Cravings

Here are a few things I've really been craving lately.

Simple, nude pumps like this:

Image courtesy of Zappos.com

A cloche hat to wear with my trench like this or this:

Image courtesy of etsy.com

Anything from here:

Image courtesy of globetrotters.com

Donations or presents can be sent to: You are my favorite Lane, I Love Youville, 12345.

I seem to be feeling very 1920s of late, and I think it might be the sudden influx of antique furniture that's cluttering up my house all of a sudden. I can't wait to put it all where it belongs, and I've been diligently searching for inspiration for my study.

Images courtest of: This Is Glamorous

Really, though, my main goal should be to stop it from looking like an insane arts & crafts teacher is squatting there. First step, of course, is kicking out the insane arts & crafts teacher. Wish me luck.

Home is.

Home is:

roadside farm stands, woodsmoke, Tibetan peace flags, colonial houses, abandoned tobacco barns, too much patchouli, and good people living in beautiful little towns. I was there for a sad occasion, but there was a lot of joy.

The Boy's family has a farm. Yum.

I went for a run in a thunderstorm and came across this field of sunflowers.

At the time it seemed very meaningful, although it's a little lost on me now.

I didn't know this kind of thing was unique until I left.

Please excuse the pictures, as they were taken from a U-Haul I was schlepping around. Also, it was raining most of the weekend. It was one of my favorite kinds of weather: warm, rainy and prone to storms.

Back to Basics. Or not.

The excess of Fashion Week sent me on a tailspin through my closet, purging and getting rid of anything I wouldn't buy again if I saw it in a store. I had thoughts of only wearing the bare essentials: grey dresses, blank pants, simple T-shirts.

But if I'm honest, the only thing that makes fall and winter fun for me is clothes that are a little shinier, sluttier, and more extravagant than the simple dresses of summer. I love fur (faux), sequins, luscious colours, lace and form fitting bodices. Stuff like this.

These shoes are a perfect example. I can't wait to wear them under purple tights, short skirts and lots of bracelets.

Six inch heel, pink sole= oh yes.

I went into Payless to get some cheap flats and I came out with these.

Close, no? Another great find was this gorgeous Christian Dior skirt. I got it for a steal and had it tailored to a better length.

Unfortunately, photographs don't do justice to this wool.

Damn, they don't make them like this anymore.

I was also gifted a top hat as a gag gift. What the givers didn't know is that I think it is awesome and plan on wearing it on days that aren't Halloween (and also probably on Halloween. I want to be Oscar Wilde).


I think it looks great with this simple Ann Taylor dress that can be worn a million ways. If I was feeling really touch-and-go, I'd wear that hat with this ever so slightly tacky outfit I've rediscovered for winter.

And by slightly I mean rather.
Coat: vintage, Dress: Calvin Klein, Belt: Vintage
Shoes: Payless

This outfit has already proved excellent for barely lit rooms, champagne and dancing.

Of course, there's a more elegant side to luxurious clothes. Demure, even. Like these vintage Diane Von Furstenburg satin heels.

They're pristine, so it's hard to know how old they are but I love, love, love them.

Lord.

I also finally found a good winter trench, so I can stop wearing my thin fall ones and freezing when I want a little Holly Golightly in the dead of winter.

I might not be the kind of girl who can live off of the basics. I just need a little something extra to get me through those long winter months. More fun for me.

Bracelet: vintage. Pin: family heirloon, Necklace: Century 21.

Blank slates.

For most people, finding an apartment and moving is a huge pain in the ass. And I don't like hauling and schlepping any more than anyone else, but I secretly kind of love the whole process. It means a blank slate that you slowly make your own. And we got one hell of a blank slate. Three bedrooms, a full bar, and a really, really big kitchen. Sometimes being outside the city has worthwhile perks.

My mom taught me how to move. One room at a time, and start with the bedroom. Make it beautiful.

My grandmother made that necklace holder- it's just a simple branch painted silver with some pegs stuck in it and I love it. The pictures are illustrations from The Lonely Doll that my mom copied and laminated. I love how their simplicity contrasts with the frilly necklaces. Also, I finally found a constructive use for my obsession with straw fedoras. Things you love are the best decorations.

I love shoes.

So, that's the bedroom. Here's our kitchen:


It has a naturally retro vibe, so I got some some old advertisements and hung them up.

How sweet is that clock?

There's also a pantry. Rue is quite fond.

The bathrooms have a similiar aesthetic, but they're still a work in progress.

Aren't we adorable water babies?

The danger in having a chalkboard in the bathroom is that I often give in to the temptation of potty humor. And by often I mean every day. I erased it for the picture but the words, "So was the sex with your mom, poophead" might have been written on there. The Boy is very patient.

Our basement is finished and has a wet bar in it. I maybe like to pretend it's a speakeasy. If Prohibition ever comes back, this will be the place to be. I used retro ads again, but these are a little older.

I think bottles are beautiful by themselves, so I tried to keep it simple.

I went more '70s in the living room- I was going for a kind of kitschy library feeling.

There are three of these awesome tea light holders. They're lanterns made of old Roman slides.

That turtle shell is older than all of us, and has travelled with me through three states and six houses.

My favorite part of the new place might be outside. I have a little garden. All summer I had cucumbers, green beans and lettuce and now it's time for beets, onions, cayenne peppers and swiss chard.

That's our home so far. My study is still a total, total mess. It looks like an insane arts and crafts teacher is squatting there. But I have some great ideas and I'll post as I decorate.

You're No Poet

"Yes, but you're no poet man
You just want everyone looking at you
So I'll show no frown

Because all over town, yes all over this town
There are people who would undermine you if they could
Don't let them in."
-The Kooks

Someone wrote something very nasty about someone I love in an obscure corner of the internet. I don't know who it was and I'm sure they thought neither of us would find it, but we did. And it hurt. But it also made me glad for the love and positivity in my life. This is a little more serious and personal than I like to be, so I'm going to link to a hilarious and awesome music video.



Much better. Have a lovely weekend, everyone.

Weekend

This weekend was fashion shows, music, and German food. I also heard from my friend in Germany, who I miss very much. Check out her blog about her German adventures:

mlreid.blogspot.com

More later.

My namesake

I was named after two strong, wonderful women: Sarah Bernhardt and my grandmother, Sarah D. Hartshorne. Although they were very different, they both held true to their values in the face of incredible obstacles, played it close to the chest, and did wonderful things for the world.

My grandmother was beautiful, although I think she didn't know it. Her mother was a renowned beauty, and Sarah felt like an ugly duckling growing up. She raised four sons and welcomed her home to them and their families at any time, at a moment's notice. At the same time, she taught, got her PhD, and was an intellectual giant.

She was not, like Bernhardt, a traditional mother or grandmother. She was always honest with me, even when I was very young. She spoke to me like a person, not a little girl. My father always credits her for making him bookish, as do I.

Here is a video of her making cookies with my cousin and I. This video shows, among other things, how giant and gangly my hands and feet are, and how beautiful my grandmother was.


She will be greatly missed.