New York: and the tale of the MIH Marrakesh Skinny

Is it right, I ask you, is it right to buy a pair of jeans because they are called the Marrakesh Skinny?  Why of course, it's not right.

But oh, if they fit you in a way that pulls everything in and smooths everything out and are so comfortable that it's plain old suspicious, why then it's quite right.  Especially, when they're called the Marrakesh Skinny. 

And so I did.

PS I also bought this and this (velvety, love) and this.  And I bought 3 pieces from this designer and the perfect sunglasses from this designer. On the home front I bought this silk cushion {so much prettier in real life} and Pantone toothbrushes from here. :-) 

Manhattan: and a streetwalker's tale

Before Marrakesh, before Windhoek, before Kathmandu, before Dhaka, before Dakar, before Bologna, before Washington, before Paris, before Wellesley...

there was Chappaqua. At least for me there was.

Chappaqua, a town with good roads for bike riding and excellent bake sales. A town not yet made famous by resident presidents. A town where the neighbor's bathroom bidet was the source of much intrigue and "talk" (but I digress).

Yes, Chappaqua. That's where I spent years growing up. 

But on the weekends, there were visits to my grandmother in Manhattan.  It was during walks in uptown and downtown that she taught me about everything that was important.  About things that were right side up and upside down and knowing what mattered most. 

I'm back walking those streets again.  (Perhaps the very streets where my father walked Eleanor Roosevelt's dog, a task for which he was handsomely paid 25 cents.)

Exciting things are happening, and I'm sorting out the right side up from the upside down.  Sometimes, it's trickier than it seems.

 Image found here.

Morocco: and a tale of Winter coping mechanisms, Part 2: color

Winter.  Cold and dark.  And mostly just grey.  {Sigh, shall we just go back to bed?}
{And what's with wearing all that black, all that charcoal, all that brown?}  

No, this won't do.  This won't do at all.  

Think color, yes color.
Reach for the vivacious reds, the chatty pinks, the audacious oranges.  
Dig out the glittering yellows, the electric blues, the effervescent greens.

Wear it:  on your neck, your shoulders, your waist.
Paint it:  on your lips, your cheeks, your nails.
Unfurl it: on your bed, your table, your couch.

Wrap it around you.  

And don't forget....
                                to dream in color, too.

{Feel Better Campaign, brought to you by Me.}

Morocco: and a tale of Winter coping mechanisms, Part 1: alive

A left off a main boulevard, down a narrow street and then around the corner.

And there it is.

The prettiest shop in Essaouira Morocco, the prettiest. It’s Winter, and it’s scarves-and-shawls-and-hats-chilly. But there {Can it be?} it’s always Summer.

Warm spices for doctoring your tea piled in baskets, one after another.

 

Bundles of growing things, why, everywhere.

{and some pinned to a blue door just like that}

Vow to create Summer beauty today. And then do it. If even just for you.

{Feel Better Campaign, brought to you by Me.}