Sail Away

Brooklyn-based artist Ann Wood spends her days creating the most amazing ships and boats.

Using a combination of paper mache and found and salvaged fabrics,

she pieces together platforms from which imagination sets sail.

One of Ann's ships could include any magical combination of finds, from bits of The New York Times and The Boston Globe,

to 19th century fabrics or the under skirt of an old wedding gown.

These vessels are filled with history and love.

Have a magical day, Darlings!

xo

Beach Baby, Beach Baby

Summer may be over, but I have yet to put away my bikini: there's a beach vacation looming in my not-so-distant future. Perhaps that's why I'm finding myself so drawn to these charmingly embellished images from Parisian design team Ma + Chr.

And you thought vintage beach photos couldn't get any more delightful.
Have a good one.
xo

{all images Ma + Chr, via Design Is Mine}

Guilty Pleasures

Guilty pleasures...we all have them. Those little things that bring you extreme, blissed-out moments of pure joy, but shouldn't. That song on your iPod that you hope no one ever finds. You know, the one you listen to alone, late at night, with the covers pulled over your head so nobody hears. Or that really cheesy movie you secretly watch every single time it's on, reciting it back to the tv, line for line. Perhaps it's those disgustingly delicious pink snowball cakes, or Zac Efron.

I used to keep these little things my dirty secret. But ever since I heard Joe Strummer, purveyor of cool, leader of The Only Band That Matters, proclaim (a shared and) unabashed love for ABBA, I've been letting them all be known. I mean, if the man who wrote London Calling can answer yes when Agnetha, Bjorn, Benny and Anni-Frid ask him to "Take a Chance on Me," then surely I can let slip that I listen to the theme from Xanadu when I run. And I know all the words. And, despite my vegetarian ways, I like bacon. And perhaps cheese steak egg rolls. I take great pleasure in eating them both. "Steel Magnolias," despite the sap and melodrama and overacting, is one of my favorite movies. I even named my first car Shelby. I also love Dolly Parton. And Cher. And I'm ok with that.

But my biggest, juiciest Guilty Pleasure, the one that trumps all others, is Gossip Girl. Yes, it is bad. Deliciously bad. And sooo horribly good. It is a little beginning of the week treat, best enjoyed after a grueling 75 minute yoga/pilates class and a sandwich or two, with the phone and computer turned off. I savor every second of it. I have missed my little Monday night ritual (what would I do without Anthony Bourdain filling in during the summer!!??), and am eagerly awaiting the season premier tonight. Will Blair have another dream in which she is a character from an Audrey Hepburn movie? Will Rachel Zoe have another cameo that results in yet another bowl of chocolate sauce being dumped on her head? And what is up with Serena's wack-a-doo aunt and the faux cousin? I need to know!!!

How about you, Dearests? What are your Guilty Pleasures? Confess them here...you'll feel worlds better once they're out!

xo

Happy Weekend

Katharine Hepburn

Happy Weekend, Dear Readers! Are you enjoying it so far?

This past week was a good one, filled with music and city adventures.

A dear friend called and asked if I wanted to be his plus one for Wilco's taping

(if it's all digital, is it even called a "taping" any more?)

of Live on Letterman.

Umm, yeah!

So Wednesday, it was up to New York in the pouring rain. And y'all, Wilco brought it.

But before you get too jealous, Dave wasn't there. Good thing, too, 'cause the Ed Sullivan Theater is tiny!

He would never have been able to out run me ;)

The week ended with more music in another city in the pouring rain.

This time, Nephew One and I had a city date day in Philly, and we spent the afternoon enjoying a fabulous performance by Diego Garcia.

. The Boy is fascinated by music, and I just plunked his tiny self down on a folding table in front of the stage and watched him suck it all in.

He went home and played his guitar for mommy and daddy and Nephew Two, adding an introduction to his songs by way of counting. Like I said, he sucked it all in. He's been talking about the Drum Man and his drums and sticks ever since.

A very good week, indeed.

The coming week is looking a bit more low key, a little less musical. But with all the same rain.

It is fall, after all.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Lovelies!

xo

A Sort Of Homecoming



{pablo picasso}

Hello hello, my Dear Readers! Guess who's back ;)
I wish my MIA ways of late could be explained away with tales of mystery, adventure, and intrigue.
But alas, we must chalk it up to laziness.
Sorta.
I had a show over the weekend that needed prepping, and the usual other little things.
And I just could not, absolutely not, get my brain to settle down and write you all something lovely. Too many shiny internet-style distractions, too many lovelies to pack and price, and two nephews:
one who wanted me to pretend I was Zooey Deschanel (who, at the age of 2 1/2, Nephew One has a major crush on), while his tiny brother gave me hickeys on my arm.
But I'm back now, and ready to dive right back in and catch up with you all.
Good thing, too, because amongst all of those shiny internet-style distractions, I've discovered some real gems that I can't wait to share with you.
Gems that have not, as of yet, made the rounds across the blogosphere.
So stick around, my Loyal Friends.
'Cause I've got a whole lotta fabulous on the way.
xo



Mix Tape Monday, Volume 5

{image}

Good Monday Morning to you, my Dear Readers!

It's another of those sneaky Mondays, the technical first one of the month, since the actual first was a holiday (and what a holiday it was!).

This month's mix is dedicated to that magnificent purveyor of all things color, Roy G Biv.

Seems perfectly fitting, considering all of those markers and crayons and pencils being stuffed into brand new back packs this time of year.

So sit back, Dear Readers, and let me sing you a rainbow.
Enjoy

Happy Weekend

Dude. It's the weekend. I have mixed emotions. The past few have brought earthquakes, hurricanes, and police vs. neighbor armed stand-offs. So, there's half of me that wants the next few days to be quiet, peaceful, and drama free. Then there's this other half that wonders what exactly to do with your typical, boring, drama free weekend. I think I'm willing to find out, though. And I'm gonna start out by sleeping in. Or maybe not. The last time I looked forward to sleeping in, I got about 4 1/2 hours into my shut-eye before being rudely awakend by gun shots. So maybe I don't want to sleep at all. Just stay awake until Monday. There you go, karma, Murphy's Law, The Universe. I've covered my bases. Perhaps that'll slow you down in catching me again. One can only hope, right?

Have a good weekend, Dear Readers, whatever life throws your way.

xo

Hide and Seek

One of my favorite visuals from a movie happens towards the beginning of Garden State, when, after his mother's funeral, Zach Braff's character is urged by his aunt to try on a shirt that she made for him using the leftovers from the fabric she had used to cover the walls. It's a quick image, him standing in the shirt against the matching wall. I love this.

New Zealand design house Twenty Seven Names has used this same type of imagery in their Winter 2012 look book. The results are nothing short of fabulous.



{all images Twenty Seven Names, via Miss Moss}



Hope your Wednesday is blending in nicely with the rest of your week.

xo

Don't Make Me a Target

Dear Readers....today is a holiday. The lazy kind of holiday, where you get to sleep late and then spend the day doing nothing. And with it being such a holiday, I really hadn't planned on blogging today. But sometimes, things happen. Big things, like, you wind up, on a quiet Monday morning, with a sniper in your bedroom, sitting on the chair from your vanity, a rifle stretched across your bed. And since that is how this morning got started, I just had to share.

That is my bed. And that is a Very Big Rifle on my bed.

We'll start last night/early this morning, around 2-ish, when I finally stumbled into bed after a completely pork-tastic day. The plan was to sleep. Sleep and sleep until I was fully done sleeping and ready to wake up. Sometimes, though, decisions are made for you, and they're not necessarily what you had in mind. In this particular case, my neighbor, a rather sketchy fella that never seemed quite right, decided that I would be waking shortly before 7, when he went out in his backyard and, I assumed, shot off a whole bunch of fire crackers. Why he would feel the need to do such a thing, I had no idea. But after a few mumbles and grumbles and dirty looks out the window, I began to relax back towards sleep.

Sleep didn't get much of a chance to happen, though, because the phone decided to ring. And when a phone decides to ring at 7 am on a holiday morning, you know it's not gonna be good. This particular phone call was the good, across the street neighbor calling with the news that there were, very suddenly, very many police cars appearing out front. Police cars out of which rifle wielding officers lept, shields up, helmets on, bullhorns telling the noisy neighbor to come out with his hands up- those weren't no firecrackers he was playing with earlier.

 

Mother of crap! Since my multi-windowed bedroom faces the offending house, I was outta there. But not before a belly-crawl to the dresser for some pants- if I was to be escorted away from my home and towards safety, it surely wasn't gonna be with my knickers on display! I snuck like a criminal through the house, dodging the windows out of which rifles and Kevlar-ed cops were swarming everywhere. It was decided that the basement steps were probably a wise place for coffee this morning. But there were no windows to peek out, and no audible voices alerting to what is going on. Back upstairs. The other steps will be....ok. Can hear everything, decent view. Speaking of views, there seems to be a camouflaged mean with a very large duffel bag coming to the door...good thing I grabbed those pants.  "Hey, good morning, how are you, everything ok, you guys wanna leave or is it cool? Oh, and can I borrow a window?" Sure, Mr. Handsome Sniper Man, my bedroom is all yours.

Which is how I wound up with a high-powered rifle laying across my ruffled, rose-sheeted bed. And a swat team in the driveway. For nearly three hours. Three long, breakfastless hours. At the end of the three hours, there was yelling. And gunshots. And again, the ringing phone. It was the good, across the street neighbor again, in hysterics. Not the terrified, tearful sort, more the pee your pants laughing sort. Seems my genius neighbor decided to attack the robot the swat team brought along, rock 'em sock 'em style, while his girlfriend made a run for it. Neither got very far, and I'm thinking it's highly unlikely they'll be coming back home tonight.

The rest of the day was spent laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. There was my sniper, all big and burly with an equally big and burly gun, surrounded by shabby chic bedroom loveliness (even he wanted pictures of the gun on the bed). There was the swat team, huddled in the yard, standing brave in the face of a gun-wielding lunatic, and yet terrified of his harmless puppy (which I of course pointed out to them). There was the one casualty of the stand off- the robot. I hear he gave as good as he got.

So thank you, to the men and women who kept us safe this morning (and for blocking off all streets in the area- after the drama, the silence was absolutely golden!). Thank you for removing the riff raff from next door. And thank you summer, for going out not with a whimper, but with a hell of a bang.

xo

Happy Weekend

{image}

I think it's fair to say that most of us view this first weekend in September as the end of the summer. The kids

are going back to school. Boots and scarves are making their way onto shop shelves. Vacations are now memories, and old routines are once again being fallen into.

Indeed, we here in the States bid adieu to the long summer days with a long weekend. A long weekend that is eagerly anticipated amongst my friends and family, for that final long summer weekend is Pork Fest Weekend. And what is Pork Fest, you ask? Why, it's just that: a celebration of all things pork. It is the brainchild of my brother-in-law and his neighbor, who started this humble ode to the pig a few years ago, with three grills and a deep-fryer. The rules are pretty basic, in that to gain entry to this most revered of festivals, you must bring food. And that food must contain, in some form, pork (I'm bringing these, and something along the lines of this, but with panchetta added. And, of course, a bottle of bacon vodka, for bloody marys.). You might also slide by with a case or so of good beer ;)

Preparations start months in advance, when my brother in law starts brewing a batch of beer especially for the occasion. As Pork Fest Sunday draws near, bacon begins piling up in freezers. Pork is priced and pounced upon when a good sale is found. The day before, the smell of bacon fills the air for miles around. Early, ever so very early on the actual day, the smoker is started. Pulled pork starts, well, pulling. The deep fryer is turned on, hot oil ready and waiting. And all in anticipation of an entire day, and well into the night , spent enjoying pork.

It is eaten in rice and beans, in empenadas and collard greens. It is candied, and tucked delightfully into an apple tart. It is devoured as bacon, wrapped around a chunk of mac and cheese and deep fried. It is a pleasant surprise in cookies and cupcakes and whoopie pies. It is smoky in cocktails, and wrapped around melon. It is consumed in such varied and abundant forms, that it needs to be held on a long weekend. You simply cannot begin the week in a pork coma! Monday is spent lazily, weighed down, blissfully, with a pork hangover. Preferably with Vogue's September issue and the new Anthology magazine. It is the perfect see-off to summer.

How about you, Dear Readers? Do you have any special plans or traditions for the weekend?

Enjoy it, and make it last, whatever you do.

xo

Little Piggies

Dear Readers! How are you all finding yourselves, here at the end of summer? I have been greatly enjoying my bonding time with Nephews 1 and 2. We've got ourselves into quite a nice little groove, and things will be back to normal next week. Which means an abundance of fabulous and amazing posts are soon to be coming your way :)

But before that avalanche of awesome starts a-flowin', I've got a two-parter to close out this final week of summer (unofficially). And I feel the need, here at the beginning of part one, to let you in on a little something: I am a vegetarian. Have been for nearly twenty years. And I eat bacon (it's a gateway meat!). And, on the Sunday of the three-day Labor Day weekend, I eat not only bacon, but pork in all of its yummy forms. For this Most Special of Sundays is Pork Fest Sunday. What is Pork Fest, you ask? Well, you'll just have to tune in here tomorrow to find out.

To whet your appetites (pun intended), I thought we'd take a gander at all of the parts that make piggies so delicious. Feast your eyes, Dear Readers (pun, again, intended), on a few fun porcine finds.



1. Girls Can Tell  2.&3. Drywell  4.Cynthia Treen Studio

See you tomorrow.

xo