So, a few nights ago spent way too long in the closet packing for spontaneous weekend getaway. I decided very last minute to join husband for trip to see third daughter’s college theatre performance. That was Thursday for early morning Friday flight. Once in Charlotte connecting flight delayed, so we simply decided to rent a car to get there in time. Ended up packing the usual, two dresses, a black sweater, white jeans, black jeans, grey tee. Wore the usual, black silk blouse, blue denim, trench, it was raining. Packing drives me absolutely crazy. The ridiculous thing is that it always comes down to the exact same stuff. I’ve been asked repeatedly to do a packing post, and not sure why I hesitate. I guess it’s just that I dread the whole ordeal, and sharing the process seems so very personal. I get it done, and most always in a carryon, yet I sit on the floor and wonder why oh why. Once I get on the plane all is fine, it’s just throwing stuff in the bag that freaks me out.
While on said plane, I did a complete virtual wardrobe overhaul. Kind of fun as it’s just virtual and you can delete items at will. In the cart were wide leg white linen pants, and black cotton straight leg trousers, thinking and knowing I will totally hit send on those two.
Transitioning between seasons can leave gaps in the wardrobe for sure, and that closet sit-down when trying to get out of town was no fun at all. Pants are the hardest thing to get right. They require try-ons and most often some alterations. I think if you find some you love, buy in multiples.
Every time I travel, I buy a new pair of jeans, always trying to get them right. I have stacks of jeans.
In the meantime, here are some photos of my current other favorite pair, shot by my son, and of course paired with white stretch cotton blouse.
For the show wore black jeans and black silk blouse with white scarf, so very original. The Furman Theatre production of John Proctor is the Villain, a new play by Kimberly Belflower, was outstanding, and so relevant to the world around us. I laughed, cried, and was emphatically moved, in all three two hours runs. Here’s a screen grab of some of the cast, our Elizabeth second from left. She too likes to wear black. 🙂
Every day dress, clothes: plaid pants, white blouse, navy tweed cardigan, and need/want new pants.
Day eighteen, maybe. It’s now Monday, was supposed to fly out yesterday, that flight cancelled, and today’s flight cancelled too so who knows. One day runs into another, check.
Wow, putting yourself out there in the social stratosphere can feel pretty overwhelming at times. Even on the best of days there’s second guessing. On hard days it’s really hard. Talked with my twenty-six-year-old daughter this morning and she said ‘mom, I delete my Instagram app now Monday to Friday simply so I can focus on getting done what I need to get done. Then on the weekend it’s just that much more fun to kind of scroll through and catch up with everyone’. I say smart girl.
Are our lives really that interesting? Is there oversharing? Where’s the line? And what about me posting pictures of myself? Crazy!
Anyways, here is where we are, and this is what I do so moving forward. I sell clothes. I style clothes. I wear and style clothes. I wear clothes to sell clothes so therefore the posting. Sometimes all I want to do is wear old jeans and my kids’ old college hoodies, and I do. I also believe women feel better when wearing better clothes. We can do better work when we feel good in our skin. I think we all can spend way too many hours staring into our closets wondering what to wear and I try and help with that.
These photos were taken by my second son and he too has a fear of sharing, and he’s in the very social generation. He documents trips and moments and life with his camera and for all of us it’s like pulling teeth for us to see his work. I try and tell him, ‘progress, not perfection’. I think it’s slowly working. Moving forward with one small step at a time, even when that one step can feel so overwhelming, bring you to your knees, or maybe even a complete standstill.
So here I am, wearing clothes from my current trunk show, photographed by my son, and he shared his work. Inside I’m smiling.
The outfit is a riff on uniform dressing, army greens. Some of my clients would object as the colors aren’t exact. I’m okay with it. The voile blouse has soft jersey insets and an edgy concealed zipper front. I think this is genius for women that have trouble with blouses, no gaping and pulling like you can get with a buttoned placket. The pants have front and back pockets, light gold hardware. Most of us love a column of black to get out the door, this combo just edges the look up a bit. Shoes are old Gucci, and love the block heel, so much better for on-the-go.
Besides selling and styling clothes I like to cook. The other night was scratch chicken noodle soup. No photo, camera battery dead. It’s got to get warmer out there soon.
Every day dress, clothes: dark olive on olive, food: scratch chicken noodle soup.
Day seventeen, moving forward, and check.
Trunk show now through Monday, April 29th.
In an effort to minimize, so far to go with that concept, for new house down south furnished in a flash I stuck with a color palate of white, grey, and dark brown, or one of my favorite words chocolate. Mostly white and grey, and we moved fast.
At Rooms to Go we picked up two white leather pieces, a sofa and a loveseat. The rest of the haul came from Restoration Hardware, and not embarrassed to say Restoration Hardware Outlet. Husband likes to move fast, no time to wait for special orders.
First night in the new house we slept on a mattress on the floor, and second daughter Booie slept on a yoga mat on the floor. In a land of plenty it was fun in a weird strange way. Booie and I also spent a night with no power, and that was fun too. Candlelight and early to bed.
Kind of like building a wardrobe based on a cohesive color story, furnishing this place with limited choice made it so much easier to make decisions. Of course, you always need to mix things up or throw in a curve ball, hence the Hermes orange cushions for outdoor seating area. Really like that little pop in what is otherwise Zen-like and serene.
Today’s work outfit was tone on tone too. Black cashmere V-neck, black leather skirt, soft white scarf, taupe suede boots, keeping it all in the same family made it so much easier to get out the door.
Every day dress, clothes: neutrals, interiors: mostly grey and white, food: Prosecco in the office and take-out for dinner.
Day 10, check.
It’s Monday and we heard it’s snowing again up northeast and we’re wondering what to write on the blog that might inspire, so we’re going with some year-round classic basics, white things, and grilled cheese sandwiches.
We love white denim twelve months a year, and grilled cheese. Here we added spinach to get those greens in and sliced figs to a simple green salad. We always love a tank; white, black, or even silver.
White flowers are also are go-to. Husband and daughter are convinced these ruffled tulips are past their prime yet I’m holding on. Wrinkles and imperfection have got to be okay.
White denim and tweed from Carlisle | Per Se, heading back to work trunk show later this week.
Every day dress, white things and grilled cheese, our favorites. xoxo
If I could I might spend forever living in the Italian countryside wearing only clothes by Brunello Cucinelli, cooking and eating pasta with family and dear friends all the while drinking Brunello di Montalcino.
For now (or the month of March) I’ll live and be in Saint Petersburg FL, work and plan for upcoming trunk show, cook and eat pasta, maybe drink a beer, and perhaps gift my husband with a cashmere sweater or two, because I always borrow. Husband’s cashmere sweaters from Cucinelli are always the best.
Every day dress and a great pinstriped dress. xoxo
You took creative control of the House of Chanel in 1983, the year I graduated public high school, age seventeen. Honestly, I had no idea who you were, and really didn’t know the brand either. That was their plan, you were brought in to resurrect all that Coco did before, and you did.
BAM, at eighteen I wanted a bag, and at nineteen I bought lipsticks, the only part of the brand I could afford. On my lunchbreak from work I would walk to the department store when department stores were still a thing, put down a day’s pay for that tube of color with the interlocking double C’s. Oh, how I felt fancy.
Fast forward marriage, and kids, and I still wanted a bag. Now I can’t even remember how I got it, the classic black 2.55. It had a separate lipstick pocket in that gorgeous dark red leather interior, genius! A little impractical, where was I going, and I usually had diapers. I had to have that bag. It started a thing for me, collecting bags. They were like jewels, a piece of art, a thing to acquire, a Chanel bag was the ultimate.
Over the years I watched you from afar, the man and the legend. Chanel ready to wear was fantasy, and haute couture out of this world. I would buy bags, and shoes, and makeup, and those accessories gave me access to that rarified French air.
I remember you going on a diet, that was when I too was all about diets, and you lost a zillion pounds, 93 to be exact, so that you could wear the look and the clothes you held in regard, Hedi Slimane. We are all mere mortals, I suppose.
A decade goes by, and now four daughters are all about bags too. What is it about a Chanel handbag? High-end luxury. By carrying a luxury bag, we can easily identify (forget about the mortgage payment) with a luxury brand. Share with the world our supreme good taste, however simply symbiotic that may seem.
That first 2.55 has been re-furbished at The Leather Spa and passed onto the babe of the family, Mimi. Your legend lives on in the arms of my eighteen-year-old.
Mr. Lagerfeld, you the multi-hyphenate; creative director, fashion designer, artist, photographer, and caricaturist, worked into your 85thyear. You could be critical, who really calls Adele out? Yet your uncompromising pursuit of excellence made things like that seem somehow forgivable.
Mr. Lagerfeld, like that first long-ago bag I had to have it was you that I wanted to wear for our family’s first wedding. Your waterfall collection was unveiled October 3, 2017, I was completely mesmerized.
Look number 57 of 90, oh, it was you. Husband and I traveled to San Francisco last June and at the Chanel Union Square I found you. Not you exactly Mr. Lagerfeld, but your dress, your design. My very first piece of Chanel ready-to-wear, it was completely transforming.
I’ll never forget how great I felt, wearing that dress, that August afternoon.
Thank you for creating so much of what modern women aspire to. Thank you for creating things of beauty, and dreams. Your Fall 2019 Collection was unveiled yesterday, posthumously. Your work will forever be in our hearts, and with a little luck, a lot of determination, and a large amount of bank, in our arms, and on our bodies.
Rest in peace, Mr. Lagerfeld, and thank you.
Rebecca, and every day dress.