Fabric and stitches

Today, like many days, I was reading Liz's blog (OK, Elizabeth but I just can't bring myself to say it). I saw this dress and it made me laugh. She was writing about the importance Vintage dresses played in her life, and I think most of us who came of age in the 80's and 90's can relate. Liz and the friend who introduced us (who we both are sadly out of touch with) opened my eyes to the beauty of vintage clothing. 

I think growing up in the country with the only vintage shops being in Albany (mainly specializing in men's coats and the unfortunate clothing of those who had passed) held me back from the true beauty of vintage. There was one store in the middle of nowhere called "The Purple Barn" that my sister an I discovered a few years later. I loved that place because it was so random and odd and true to its name-it was purple (and pink). I think for myself, the adventure was in the finding and not always in the dress. Liz had a better eye for fashion and appreciation, which I guess is why she went into fashion. Unlike Liz, I do not have many of those dresses left but I still remember my favorites. Like the above dress, they never looked like much to others, but to me they were precious. 

Some of my favorite adventures began with riding with Liz and our mutual friend A. to many a store we had heard about. We almost always climbed into the front seat of A's plum colored vintage taxi cab. It was humongous. She let me drive it once. I hit a post trying to get it out of the parking spot (maybe that is why she doesn't talk to me anymore) she never let me drive it again. That car was true vintage excitement. We drove it to every diner in and around the Hudson Valley. Our favorite being the one with the Pez collection (I like to remember this with rhinestones, but I think it was a simple Pez collection). 

We also used the cab to pick up drunk college students at Bard during our days there. It was a large campus and the distance while intoxicated could cause some poor kids to unwillingly camp in the woods. We took this cab to Queens where there was supposedly an amazing Salvation Army (it wasn't so great). Then we went to Domsey's (before it was full of fashionable kids). 

During my early years in NYC, the East Village was full of amazing little vintage shops. Most have since closed and been replaced by newer vintage places like Ina that have done the picking through for you. One of my best vintage memories was when Julie from the Metropolitan Museum gave me her old dresses. She was an older woman that we worked with at the Met. Like many of the people there, she use to be an actress. I think at the time she was still acting a bit but had also been teaching and mainly she had chosen to work at the Met. She had to leave her apartment in Brooklyn Heights for a smaller apartment in Hell's Kitchen. She gave me bags of dresses. I like to imagine that she wore many of them during her after performance parties. There was a navy blue one with the most amazing applique flowers on it. That one is still my favorite. 

So, as for the dress hanging above, "Yes, Liz", S. has every reason to make fun of you because I can see how it looks like a homeless person would wear it, however there is something so magical about it. It is the same dress I was thinking of a few days ago. It is so simple and comfortable and for some reason makes you feel glamorous. Hard to believe looking at it. Maybe you are right and it is the sentimental aspect, but that dress must have been owned by someone with an amazing history because we all cherished it. I can't believe you still have it. While I wish it were in my closet I think it is more fitting and best that it be with you. I probably would have tossed it by now, but it is precious, AND Yes I think it did originate in A's closet and I "stole" it. 

Ahh to be 19 and not care at all for the looks and thoughts running through peoples minds, but boy could those clothes talk. 

 

Its as simple as a new do

A few years ago Gwenyth Paltrow was in a movie called Sliding Doors ( a remake of an earlier film) it wasn't very good, but I LOVED it at the time. My friend once commented that it was a movie about a girl whose life sucks and then she gets a haircut and everything is fabulous. 

Funny how hair in our world can mean so many things, but most of the time it is the first thing we change when we go through a life transition (usually a break up). We need to start fresh, change our appearance in the hope that we can change our Self. So is there any truth to this movie? Gwenyth's meek and dull mousy hair sends her to an unhappy grey life that she seems to hate but puts up with while a brave new cut with much nicer highlights suddenly turns her world around and things are fabulous and happy (well until she ends up in the hospital).

For the past few months I have been needing that physical transformation in order to magically appear in a calmer and happier state. I think I just feel over worked and I know I am not paying attention to my Self. My obsession was both hair and shoes.

If you happen to be a girl and living in NYC these days you must know by now that the new hot shoe for summer is a high heel clog. Not just any clog though but an expensive and fashionable one made by Swedish Hasbeens or if you are in NYC and prefer a softer material No. 6. 

I am not one for shoes. Normally that is. I do not collect them or oooh and ahhh over them. I do not go crazy for the fashions of Sex and the City, but I must admit I have fallen under this particular fairy cloud. I spotted them months ago, but I can't just run out and spend $250 on a pair of shoes. There is a priority list. So I waited and worked more and my birthday came and with it a gift certificate to No. 6 as well as a bit of cash. So I justified my purchase and the result:

                                               

OK so they don't look amazing, but THEY ARE! These are also extremely comfortable and do not feel like heels. And "NO" they are not paying me to go on and on about these shoes. In fact when I went into the store with Isa to purchase them they were not the nicest to us. Ok so Isa was looking through cabinets trying to find shoes for herself (she is already one of those obsessed girls). I basically walked in and said, "I'm here for shoes let's make this quick and easy." I got a look of confusion and little help, and while the nicer of the two shop girls helped me out the other just glared at me. 

For months prior to this I was feeling I needed a new haircut and new shoes, both practical things, but both things I could not justify. I was stressed and worn out. Basically I also thought the way I was feeling on the inside was beginning to make its way to the outside causing me to look like one of those "sweatpant moms" (which quite honestly I am). I am trying to change my appearance to change my inner self. I think shoes and hair can make jeans and a t-shirt look stylish. So thanks to Anne at Riah and No. 6 for the clogs I am feeling a bit more stylish and put together. 

Small changes go a long way. 

Blush, Magenta, Bubblegum, Flamingo

Well it finally happened. Isabella became THAT girl. The one who loves anything princess and anything (well, only really) pink. She woke up about a week ago and refused to wear anything other than pink. Now up to this point I have been trying to find a variety of clothes. Going out of my way to stock up on a rainbow of colors. She even has a mixture of boys and girls clothes because unbelievably sometimes the boys clothes were better. Since she was born her favorite colors were yellow and orange, but then a month ago she switches to pink. I asked her teacher if all the girls are now favoring it and she said, "No, just Isa." So I did what anyone would do, I went to the closest and cheapest store (Old Navy) and bought every pink item I could find. So now we have a plethora of pink clothes, and hopefully she will not wake up next week and declare her new favorite color brown. I may have to invest in fabric dye. 

Spiraling from A to Z

Isa spotted this statue last weekend when we were looking for gifts for her Uncle's birthday. It made both of us laugh and sadly was in the garbage area. Of course truly where would it be. Today it was moved to a different location in the garbage area where there is a hint of plant life on a platformed surface. I think we were both happy to see someone else is getting enjoyment from this odd thing. Although with the right fixtures and paint (perhaps a bit of glitter and rhinestones) it could make for a lovely lamp.

I often speak about being at a crossroads or being caught in between one thing or another. I think this is where I find peace. I am learning a lot about myself during this time of exploration, and what I am learning to make peace with is that I am someone who needs many things in my life to feel balanced. I use to think that made me scattered and unusual and unable to complete things, but now I know it just makes me ME. Some people go from A to Z in a straight line. I tend to get there through mazes of spirals but the result is the same - the process is different. So if my Art Therapy professors were correct in their teachings I am on the right path. I was always taught to believe process is more important than result. 

I am enjoying the process.

Happy Birthday to ME

Yesterday was my birthday. I have this thing about celebrating my birthday...I just prefer it to be me. Over the years having to take care of or depend on other people stresses me out and on my birthday I prefer to take a break from the world. So this year when friends asked what I wanted I was non-committal, which may be annoying to some but to me I just need things open ended. In the end it was an amazing day and evening. I worked my normal schedule from early morning to early evening, however throughout the day my clients and friends stopped by the studio to give gifts and birthday wishes. After work Isa and I met a friend in Central Park and we took out a row boat. I can hold my own on the waters even with tourists seem not to know how to row a boat. Even when Isa decided it was her turn and we frightened a few tourists along the stairs of the Bethesda fountain I was able to get us free. I would like to point out here that, "Yes", my 2.5 year old got us stuck on the stairs of the fountain, but while there and struggling to get us unstuck while also reasoning with my 2.5 year old child why Mommy must use the ore and not her, the many many men standing and watching this situation never once offered a hand. Now this also raises another interesting question because while taking the subway to Central Park from Grand Central with my child strapped to my belly not once did a seated passenger offer a seat but also as said passengers stood to leave the train each proceeded to bump me out of  their way. But I am getting sidetracked with my own little thoughts on human decency and manners and the NEED our society has for education in such things. 

So after a short yet long boat ride we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, my home away from home. It was the first and only place I could think I wanted to spend my birthday. It is literally the one place in NYC that I truly feel like home. I worked there for so long I know it inside and out and I never tire of going there. There is now a installation of bamboo by Doug and Mike Starn and it is a fantastical wonderland of expansions and chaos. Isabella loved it and even created a song to go with it. More friends met me there and we relaxed and had wine while enjoying the peaceful and beautiful evening. Of course, never really drinking, the wine went straight to my head and made for a difficult walk home, but it was all perfect. 

It has been a long and trying year but I think I am finally out of the hardest part and finding my footing a gain. I have hopes for the year to come. Mostly that it will continue in a positive way with me finding my truest friends and connections. I think mostly I just hope to continue to maintain the balance I feel now without the struggle and enjoy every moment with my child. Seems easy but I know it is hard to hold on to...I am determined to try. 

Mothers Day

Mother's Day....in my mind this particular Hallmark holiday is a loaded one. I am blessed to be a mother. It changed my life, made me face myself (the good and the bad), made me stronger, and gave me my own re-birth. I am proud that when someone asks what I do (a very common question in NYC) I first say I am a Mom. Of course I also then quickly add, "I am a single Mom". A. because I am equally proud of the strength it took to become a single mom and B. because said person may be cute single and male. 

I am also very much thinking about those people in my life who desperately want to add the title Mom to their resumes of life. I can only imagine that this day is a reminder to them of what they want, but perhaps is not so easily obtained. I have a few people in my life now who want to be mothers and for the most part I think they would make the most amazing Moms. Particularly I am thinking of my amazing friend Liz (who writes her own blog and discusses her personal journey to motherhood). On a day like today I am so honored and blessed but I also can't help but think and honor Liz and a few other women I know who have struggled but not given up. I know in my heart Liz will be a mother soon. I also know that child will be so loved it will be squished. I know it will most likely be the fattest baby on earth because of the food it will be taunted with. It will also speak more languages than myself and will have a different accent than its parents which I find humorous. And I know that when Mother's Day arrives next year I will be sending the fattest care package in the world to welcome you into the club. 

So perhaps today is simply a Hallmark holiday and there are many people reluctant to spend $5 on a card and treck into the outer borroughs to visit their Moms, but it is also a day of honor. Today is a day that is meant to focus and pamper the women who tend to do everything for everyone else. Who sacrifice, who go last, and who go without. Motherhood is full of heartache whether from too much sorrow or too much love a mother's heart never stops aching. 

So here are a few things I have learned along the way:

• You have to be nice to the other parents on the playgound because you are now setting an example to your child
  
• You can not eat cupcakes for breakfast (at least not in front of your child)
  
• You will become that mom you use to tell yourself you would never be
  
• Myth: You do not lose your fashion sense when you have kids and are fully aware that you look like you should be sitting home with a paper doing laundry or cleaning the bathroom but there is really nothing you can do about it because the only pair of jeans and t shirt you find as you are running to make it to daycare/work on time your 2.5 year old has just smeared with peanut butter or vommitted on
  
• Mom cliques do exist on the playground and they really ARE talking about you behind your back
• You lie and tell people the oreo cookies and twinkies your child is devouring are organic from Wholefoods
• Your child lives on apple juice but at least it isn't from concentrate
• There is a 5 minute rule in your house and you think  it can extend to the playground especially if it happens to be the pizza you just bought 
• Your child has gone to school in pajamas
• You live on lists and schedules
• You do bribe your child
• Your child will be the most amazing thing you have ever created