Scathing

...is the word I'd use to describe some of the reviews I've read so far of "Sex And The City, The Movie".

From NYT:
a vulgar, shrill, deeply shallow — and, at 2 hours and 22 turgid minutes, overlong

Salon.com:
The latter Carrie is the one we get in this padded push-up version of "Sex and the City." She's a half-pint Norma Desmond: Every time she does something as simple as walk through a doorway, she's announcing, "I'm ready for my closeup."
...
The movie's costumes have, once again, been scrounged up by the dread Patricia Field, who puts poor Carrie into a series of god-awful designer mishmashes that might have been tolerable on the small screen but that scream down at us like banshees from the big one.

I'm trying to round up some of my LA Bagista's to go see it on Sunday. If we make it, I'll give you my review.

Chic is where you find it...

This fabulous crinkled patent clutch is from....Talbots! It only looks expensive.

Just a note about Talbots: although they have a reputation as being very staid and conservative, I've often found really cute and inexpensive accessories there that garner lots of compliments. I'd bet dollars to donuts that this bag would be one of those items.

Coming Attractions

This week all of my Word Mojo™ has been directed toward composing eloquent and motivational staff performance reviews, but I'll be back up to speed next week.

Shefaly at La Vie Quotidienne has tagged me again for a meme. This one requires taking some notes, so I'll be working on it over the weekend.

I've also been playing with some powder foundations and will be reporting my results.

Have a lovely weekend! If you're planning to hit the Gigaplex to see Sex And The City, please don't get trampled by crazed Manolo-clad fans all hopped up on fashion and Cosmos.

Foulard de la semaine

This is the same scarf that I wore knotted a couple of weeks ago. This time I crossed the ends through a Chain d'ancre scarf ring and knotted in back.

Packable Raincoats

I've been trying to find a link since yesterday for the packable raincoat I use, but the online company I purchased from last year seems to no longer be in business. However, I have seen these raincoats recently at Nordstrom's. Looking at mine now, the only brand information I can find is "MPM" as the coat is reversible and does not have any labels. The collar doubles as a generous hood, and this coat kept me quite dry during the periodic downpours we encountered while walking around the gardens at Versailles. When the sun comes out, it stows away nicely in the small shoulder pouch.

Edited to add: Thanks to Nancy in comments who identified the brand as Mycra Pac, I was able to locate online retailers. Here's one. And another.

Running With The Pack

Last year prior to my first trip to Paris, I obsessed for months about what to wear and pack. Between mon mari, who is a chronic over-packer, and my own desire to have whatever just-in-case items available for this most stylish of destinations, we ended up shlepping an oversized duffel and another wheeled bag both of which we checked, in addition to a wheeled carry-on bag. I wore probably half of what I'd packed, and getting all of that luggage through customs (especially on the way home where we were trying to make--and ultimately missed--a connecting flight), made me vow that a) I'd pack much lighter next time and b) we'd invest in some luggage that was better designed.

Style Spy last week linked to an item in Hadley Freeman's column on packing/overpacking. Hadley's packing philosophy? More is better!

For a start, being able to survive for two weeks with nothing but a pair of trousers, two tops, one dress, a pair of flip-flops, a receptacle to purify your urine and a spool of twine (or whatever) all squashed into a handbag is nothing to boast about.

...And moreover, would you wear the same shirt (or anything else) four times in a week at home? Of course you wouldn't. So why, in the name of all that is fragrant and sanitary, would you do so on holiday?

The development of my own packing modus operandi owes a great deal to the fear of having to wear dirty clothes. So I've erred in the past on the side of too much rather than too little. But the last two trips I've taken have helped me figure out which items are the essentials and which should be left at home. Strategies I've developed from my recent sojourns (and these apply mostly to visiting a single locale/climate per trip):

1. Pick one neutral for basics (pants, jackets, shoes, bag) and work around it. No surprise here, but black is my choice for all but tropical destinations.

2. Bring multiples of black and white t-shirts that are light enough to be used as layering pieces. (Banana Republic makes an excellent one.) A black t-shirt under a jacket can also look dressy enough for most venues with some jewelry or a scarf.

3. Bring scarves to accent and change the look of your neutral ensembles. (But you knew I was going to say that, didn't you?)

4. Bring 2-3 bags maximum - one for day, a small one for evening, and (optional) a bigger, lighter bag to be used for a personal carry-on item (for airlines that allow in addition to a carry-on bag).

5. Carry cell phone and laptop chargers with you. Lost luggage + dead cell phone = Extremely Grumpy Traveler.

6. If you've followed #1, you should be able to get by with two or three pair of shoes (wear one, pack 2).

7. Rolling some clothes, packing clothes individually in dry cleaning bags, and underpacking will all help prevent wrinkling. I do usually pack a small travel steamer, just in case.

8. Bring a Tide spot removal pen, and some powdered handwashing soap to wash items in the sink. Bring a small sprayer full of Febreeze to get smoke or other scents out of otherwise clean-enough-to-wear-again clothes.

9. Bring no more than 1-2 pairs of denim jeans. They are bulky, heavy and you can usually get 3 wearings out from a single pair before they need washing.

For any trip longer than 2-3 days, I use a bag big enough that it has to be checked. Some airlines are starting to charge for checked bags. I know for some travellers it's a matter of pride to be able to get two weeks' worth of stuff in a carry-on bag, but I reside somewhere between that extreme and Hadley Freeman, whom I'm guessing travels with a team of sherpas.

What are your packing philosophies and tips?

Taking Ugly To A New Level

The "G" must stand for "Great googly moogly, in what bizarro universe would anyone with a molecule of sense think these look good???" But hey, they're on sale!

Foulard de la semaine

"Jardins d'Hiver" scarf with scarf ring. Jacket is J.Crew navy linen, purchased recently. Because the collar has ruching detail, I wanted to keep the scarf simple.

The gold scarf ring is a horse bit design. I've had it for some years and don't remember where I purchased it, but recently dug it out and put it back on active duty. I keep getting asked if it's Gucci. (It's not.)

Embracing Your Inner Bourgeois*

Or, What's So Bad About Looking Respectable?

*Title inspired from this comment from materfamilias on her post here, (responding to comments from the Scarves discussion at The Thoughtful Dresser), "Personally, I rather think that fighting one's inner bourgeois is a foolish and losing battle, and I'd rather embrace my and give her a bit of funk while I'm at it..."

From Merriam-Webster.com:

Main Entry:
1bour·geois
Pronunciation:
\ˈbu̇rzh-ˌwä also ˈbu̇zh- or ˈbüzh- or bu̇rzh-ˈ\
Function:
adjective
Etymology:
Middle French, from Old French burgeis townsman, from burc, borg town, from Latin burgus
Date:
circa 1565
1 : of, relating to, or characteristic of the townsman or of the social middle class 2 : marked by a concern for material interests and respectability and a tendency toward mediocrity 3 : dominated by commercial and industrial interests : capitalistic

Back in my 20's and 30's, one of the worst insults that could be lobbed at one was "bourgeois." Bourgeois carried the implication of staid, smug, middle class complacency, intellectual laziness, and indiscriminate materialism. Coming of age when I did during the counter-culture years, I fought against that part of myself that craved comfort, stability, and yes, luxury. As an outer manifestation of those values, my friends and I chased a more bohemian aesthetic, while I still secretly admired more classic and quality pieces that I saw on stylish, upscale women. The primary sartorial values my parents had instilled were a) buy quality fabrics and workmanship and b) stick to simple styles as you won't tire of them quickly. Not surprisingly, I've come full circle back to that way of thinking when it comes to style.

In the comments on Linda's Scarves post, a few people described Hermès scarves as looking too "bourgeois." In some instances, I think the word was being used in place of "stodgy" or "matronly," but I think also it was being used to represent that stuffy complacency that we ascribed to it way back when. But thinking about style and how it reflects our values, doesn't it make sense from the standpoint of avoiding mindless over-consumption to have a few good things that will last for decades rather than chasing trends or purchasing cheap throw-away-after-a-few-wearings types of items? Which is more materialistic and "bourgeois": the quiet luxury that an Hermès scarf conveys or the overwrought look of someone decked out in a "J'adore DIOR" t-shirt, huge Chanel logo earrings and a $2K bag splashed with overdone designer logos? (And yes, I recognize that there is a vast universe of middle ground.)

Sure, some of the Hermès scarf designs can be a bit stodgy, and I say that as someone who is nuts for anything with an equestrian theme. But it's all in how you wear it, and even the stodgy can become ironic if done right. To me, the trick is to keep the rest of the ensemble simple and current, and wear with an air of insouciance. Materfamilias gets it Exactly Right.

Stodgy is as stodgy does. A lack of intellectual curiosity, a dour and judgemental demeanor, and a miserly spirit will always appear dowdy regardless of what au courrant garments one wears, whereas a generous spirit, an open heart and a sense of fun will always look fresh. There's nothing wrong with wanting to have some nice, classic things. If that's bourgeois, so be it. And, as my grandmother used to say, "there's no point in having nice things if you don't use them."

Updated to add: I'd missed this earlier, but Duchesse at Passage des perles has some great comments on this topic as well. Another one to file under Great Minds Think Alike! Love this bit especially, "I began to wonder, as opposed to what? Insouciantly bohemian? Stoutly working class? Private-jet megarich?"

Age-Appropriate Yet Ageless

That was my first reaction when I saw this at The Sartorialist today. Though I probably wouldn't wear this ensemble myself (being short, the clothes would swamp me), I love how she's mixed the classic and the funky.

SATC Xtreme

For the serious fan with more money than sense:

The “Get Carried Away” package, priced at $3,200 for two, includes two nights’ lodging in an 850-square-foot executive suite, transportation to the premiere in a chauffeured Mercedes, VIP access to the official premiere after-party and a $600 gift certificate to shop at the Jimmy Choo boutique in Beverly Hills.

Temptation/Redemption

All week, I had to walk by the Ferragamo store on the way to and from the office. And each time these patent lilac sandals taunted me from their glassy perch. Divine intervention: the store was never open during the hours we were passing by.

The City That Doesn't Sleep

Combine too much bad office coffee downed during interminably long meetings, a rich dinner with cocktails and wine and a double espresso to top it all off, a trash truck that seems to be circling the block only stopping to slap some dumpsters around every 10 minutes, and voila!... neither does une femme!!

New York State of Mind - Partie Un

New York is not a city for the indecisive or the broke. I discovered this when I first worked there in the early 80's. I had moved back east with my boyfriend (who would eventually achieve ex-husband status) attending graduate school. I'd been accepted at Rutgers as a transfer student, but couldn't get the financing together to cover my tuition, so off to Manhattan job hunting I went, in a hand-me-down and out-of-date skirt from my mother, a bow-neck blouse my grandmother had bought for me as a going away present, and a jacket that barely matched either. I was a bit shocked to learn that even with two years experience in the same field, the jobs I interviewed for paid little more than minimum wage, which would barely cover my monthly commuter pass on the train. So I responded to an ad from an employment "agency" which turned out to be one balding guy in a moldy office with a bottle of scotch in the desk drawer (he offered, I declined) and was soon employed at a direct reponse advertising agency. I worked there for two months (long story short, I was hired for one job but the deparment head decided she needed a personal assistant, so that's what I did) then was referred by a co-worker for a job at a TV sales rep firm, where I found my niche, employment-wise.

The culture, that took some getting used to. Most of the other "girls" I worked with (yes, we were still called girls then) still lived with their families, and would until they married. This seemed to be the norm for NY women my age; I don't know if it still is. At lunchtime I'd tag along and watch while they shopped. And shopped. Even on our meager salaries, they didn't think twice about blowing most of their paycheck on a pair of $200 boots. I was brown bagging cream cheese sandwiches, and splurging on the occasional postcard at Fiorucci. On the train, I'd observe the women in their good suits and Louis Vuitton bags, which I had never seen nor heard of until then, and make notes for the future when I joined their ranks. (Even though I don't like logos, I still have a nostalgic feeling when I see LV monogram bags, and always associate that brown and tan print with successful, sophisticated, professional women.)

I learned that if you were ordering coffee to go from a lunch counter that a) the person working behind the counter doesn't want you to waste his/her time with saying hello, or asking how they are and b) that if you want black coffee, you had to order "coffee, black." "Coffee, regular" meant coffee with milk and "coffee, light" meant with more milk. I learned that the Greek guys behind the lunch counter were always nice to young women and would sometimes give you a large salad when you'd ordered a small. I learned the difference between street harassment and a nice compliment from a stranger. I learned where to stand on the subway platform during rush hour to be able make it into the next train. I learned where you could buy a beer in a brown paper bag at Penn station for the Friday night ride home, and that there wasn't a bathroom at the junction where you caught the "Dinky" into Princeton proper.

Almost twenty years passed between the time I first worked in NY, and when I started travelling there for work. And in that time, the city seemed to have transformed into something a lot cleaner, a bit friendlier, and less foreign. In the early 80's, if someone bumped into you they'd growl or say "watch where you're going!" Now, they say "excuse me." But the biggest change isn't the city itself, it's being there with some financial resources behind me. The ability to afford a sit-down meal, a decent hotel room, (or in this case, be here on business and having most of my expenses covered) makes a huge difference in how I perceive this city. I loved it then, but felt like an outsider. I love it now, and feel like a welcome guest.

Room With A View

I can't determine from here if these are wedding dresses or white evening gowns, but will investigate further. It's a lovely display, but not quite the view I'd hoped for. Alas, it's Upfront Week and the hotel is quite full.

On the plus side, my co-workers and I had a lovely dinner last night, and when I unpacked my suitcase, was delighted to discover that underpacking had paid off...my trousers and jackets hadn't wrinkled!

Par avion

Une femme loves to fly. I love almost everything about it (except the lines and the hassle of practically stripping down to skivvies to go through security and then having to scramble to put everything back on and grab possessions off the conveyor and the appalling lack of legroom in coach, even for 5'1" me). I love the smell of jet fuel as you get close to the airport. I love seeing the planes lined up at the gates and love watching them take off and land. I love finding my seat and the acceleration as we take off. I love seeing the familiar and unfamiliar landscapes spread out like maps below me.

First flight, here's what I remember: I was 4, my sister 1-1/2. Being trussed up in our best clothes (fancy dresses, stiff petticoats, patent leather mary janes) and lectured about how we'd better behave, dammit. Passing through a large hangar-like building and crossing the tarmac and up the stair-on-wheels to board the plane. Jr. Hostess wings from the stewardesses (back then they were all female) and going up front to meet the pilots and see the cockpit. Chewing gum to make our ears pop. A hot meal with silverware (at that point the most elegant meal I'd had in my young life). Looking out the windows and playing with the shades. Saying "wheee!" when we hit turbulence. Using the (then) space-age potty. Landing in Chicago, sleepy. Light fixture on the ceiling at Midway airport looked like stars. Boarding the plane for Wheeling, having to walk uphill from the back of the plane to our seats. Little cloth curtains on the windows, and the wings had propellers. Waking up as we landed.

Another flight I'll never forget involved propellers as well. When I was 16, my mother, my sister and I had flown with another family to Vancouver, and were connecting to Victoria. My mother was a nervous flyer and hated smaller planes and propellers especially. When we got to the boarding area and she saw that our connecting flight involved both, she headed to the nearest bar and started drinking. By the time we took off, she was already at twenty thousand feet. It was a beautiful flight that stayed fairly low and we flew over pretty green islands, some with sheep on the hills. On landing, which was a little bumpy but nothing out of the ordinary, our mother threw her head into her lap and started screaming "we're going to DIE! We're going to DIE!" (Oh, and during the flight she'd burned a hole in her dress with her cigarette.) The whole cabin of twenty or so people cracked up but we pretended we didn't know her until we got into our rental car.

Then, for a lot of years, I didn't fly at all. When I did start flying again, it was a new era, no longer special or elegant. People in sweats pushed and shoved to board, the seats were sometimes covered in crumbs or stuffed with trash from the last occupant, the flight attendants were surly. It had become Greyhound with wings.

If you're reading this on Monday, I am probably somewhere between home and the airport, or waiting to board my flight, or 32,000 feet over Missouri, or landing in New York. But there's another flight I plan to take sometime in the few months, and it doesn't involve crowds or even pressurized cabins:I had planned to take a ride in an open cockpit bi-plane for my 50th birthday, but then we went to Paris instead. I had hip surgery a few weeks before my 51st birthday. But I'm not going to wait for another birthday to pass before I have this adventure. The ironic part is that mon mari hates flying, and so I'll probably have to take my son up with me. He shares my love of the wild blue yonder.

Tony Tixier/Anne Paceo/Joan Eche Puig/ Michael Valeanu

Last May when we were in Paris, we saw Anne Paceo perform as part of a trio opening for Ben Sidran/Georgie Fame. If you are in Paris, like jazz and have a chance to see her perform, don't miss it. She's a phenomenal percussionist!

Another reason why...

...it pays to buy good shoes. Bought these Ecco's over a year ago, and just had them "refurbished" by my local shoe repair guy for $30. They look better than new and now I'll get another year or two's wear (or maybe more!) out of a favorite pair. Good shoe repair people are worth their weight in gold, IMHO.

Foulard de la semaine

This is a smaller (70cm x 70cm) silk square. Fold diagonally into an oblong shape, then tie a knot in the center, and one on either side of that one. Tie the ends in the back.

Six and the City

(Title and pic in honor of my upcoming trip to NY next week)

It's a meme-tastic week here chez femme!

Tagged this time by Always In Style. Theme is Six Unremarkable Quirks.

So here are mine:

1. I'm a map freak. I'm fascinated by maps and can look at them for hours. This also makes me an excellent navigator.

2. I can't sleep in a room with strong food or animal smells.

3. I hate coconut. The texture makes me gag.

4. As a young child, I used to pull all the fur off my stuffed animals, as sort of a nervous reflex. My son does the same thing.

5. I never go anywhere without hand lotion and lip balm.

6. I can't stand cold air blowing on me, no matter how warm it is otherwise.

If you are listed on my blogroll and have not been tagged the for the last two memes, consider yourself tagged!

An Expensive Little Habit

This is really neat! I love the wonderful pictures of her grandmother.

Meme: More Factoids About Moi

Tagged by Shefaly at La Vie Quotidienne:

1. Last movie you saw in a theater?
"Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day"

2. What book are you reading?

The Good Husband of Zebra Drive by Alexander McCall Smith, also just started Père Goriot by Honoré de Balzac.

3. Favorite board game?
Backgammon

4. Favorite magazine?
The New Yorker.

5. Favorite smells?

Coffee, Rose, Lavender, Sandalwood, Amber, leather, alfalfa hay, manure-and-pine-shavings, redwood trees, wet pavement after a rain.

6. Favorite sounds?
Horses munching hay in a barn, red-winged blackbird calls, drumming, music (all kinds).

7. Worst feeling in the world?
Nausea

8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
Coffee.

9. Favorite fast food place?
Taco Bell

10. Future child’s name?
None, I'm done procreating.

11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….?
Buy a horse.

12. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
No.

13. Storms - cool or scary?
Cool, until you see the funnel cloud.

14. Favorite drink?
Did you actually think I'd say something other than coffee? ;-)

15. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”?
Travel and read more books.

16. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
If cooked, yes. If raw, no.

17. If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?

The same color as currently, red.

18. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in?
Palo Alto, Los Altos, Dayton, OH, San Luis Obispo, San Jose (Costa Rica), Princeton, NJ, Woodside, Sunnyvale, Arroyo Grande (means Big Ditch in Spanish!), Los Angeles, Culver City

19. Favorite sports to watch?
Equestrian events, American football

20. One nice thing about the person who sent this to you?
She is quite intelligent.

21. What’s under your bed?
Storage boxes with our ski clothes.

22. Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Yes. But with better hair.

23. Morning person, or night owl?
Morning person.

24. Over easy, or sunny side up?
Over easy.

25. Favorite place to relax?
Outdoors on a patio overlooking a lake.

26. Favorite pie?
Key Lime.

27. Favorite ice cream flavor?
Moose Tracks.

28. Of all the people you tagged this to, who’s most likely to respond first?
Probably materfamilias.

Tagging materfamilias, La Bellette Rouge and Thomas at The Sunday Best.

Care and Feeding

In my 20's, I had a close friend who was heavily invested in her appearance, especially with regard to maintaining a very toned, thin body. She made no bones (no pun intended) about the fact that this was the most important thing in her life. People were always commenting on her slender figure and asking how she kept it. "I take care of myself," she'd sniff just a bit haughtily. Her version of taking care of herself demanded unswerving and relentless rigidity regardless of circumstance: eating less than 1000 calories per day, usually two but sometimes three daily aerobics classes, and eventually, abuse of laxatives. (Do I have to admit that my younger, eating-disordered self envied her for her thinness and for what I perceived at the time as strength and discipline, only understanding in later years that it sprung from self-hatred and obsession?) We started drifting apart after I started finding my way out of ED-ville, and began moving away from our shared worldview.

So a lot of years passed where hearing the words "I take care of myself" made une femme bristle a bit. It always fell on my ears sounding a bit self-righteous and disingenuous at the same time. I've seen a lot of people do a lot of ultimately self-destructive things in the name of "taking care of themselves" which to many always seems to equate to "staying thin and young-looking." And I've seen some naturally very thin people with really crappy habits get a pass, and get credited with good self-care when it's really mostly Doritos and genetics.

But to be able to live a stylish, adventurous, balanced, delicious life after 50, more and more attention to self care is required. So what does that look like? And how does one separate what really nurtures and energizes from what is intended to achieve a specific culturally-approved look? I've come to realize that this is a highly individual formula, and that it must shift with time and circumstances. Taking care of myself in my 20's meant (among other things) running three miles a few times a week, because it made me feel wonderful and gave me lots of energy, but that same regimen would be murder on my joints today. (I miss running, I really do.)

Self-care at this point in time involves the following (in no particular order):

• A bit of protein with every meal, and fresh fruits and veggies as often as possible.
• Limiting sugary foods to immediately after meals (prevents blood sugar crashes)
• Walking as much as possible, and once I'm cleared by the orthopedist, riding my recumbent stationary bike a few times a week
• Regular dental care (more and more evidence that gum disease is a factor in a host of other serious conditions, such as heart disease!) Flossing daily in addition to brushing.
• Regular medical checkups
• Remembering to take my thyroid med every morning
• Sleep (getting 8 hours is a challenge at times, but I try)
• Wearing clothing that fits my body NOW, not when I'm five pounds thinner
• Wearing a seatbelt (it's the law here, but still)
• Down time where no one is making demands on me (I get up an hour before the rest of my family to achieve this)
• SUNSCREEN. Every day. 40+ SPF.
• Writing for this blog.
• Doing some stretches daily, again once the orthopedist signs off (I'm restricted from certain movements until my bones have fused to my artificial hip)
• Vitamin, calcium, and fish oil tablets daily
• A bit of dark chocolate daily, and a glass of wine a few times a week.
• A good laugh at my own expense at least once a day. ("I used to be disgusted/But now I'm just amused.")

While this may sound like an exhaustive (and perhaps exhausting!) list, the truth is that I've been able to incorporate most of these into my daily routines and they now are mostly habit. Although no one would probably ever point to me as a picture of glowing fitness, the rest of my life doesn't have to wind and twist like a topiary around what I do in the name of health. Because really, how "healthy" would that be?

Weekend Update

I've been tagged by La Vie Quotienne and Always In Style for memes, and I will get to those shortly, I promise.

Of the jackets I perused for spring/summer and an upcoming business trip, this one was the winner:

The Ann Taylor jacket is nice too, but it has a lot of silvery threads running through it so it's more of a standout piece.

A couple of commenters in the Poaching thread mentioned adding vinegar to the water. I was certain there was probably a reason for this, and so tried it. It makes the egg white cook up more solidly and cohesively, so I've now replaced the salt with vinegar in my egg poaching process.

Foodie Friday

Just a note, if you haven't tried any of this season's strawberries or artichokes yet, you're missing out! Both are the best they've been in years. Even the artichokes I bought last weekend at Trader Joe's which were as big as my head cooked up beautifully and were tender and flavorful.

When I first moved to LA, one of the high points was living near a Trader Joe's. If you've never been to one, it's like a gourmet grocery with very low prices on many items. They have a lot of organic foods and environmentally friendly products, and a great wine department featuring inexpensive to mid-priced wines. My son is hooked on their canned chicken chili with beans, and I'm hooked on the "Just a Handful" almonds, both raw and roasted that are packaged in single-serving portions. Another winner is the frozen Frenched rack of lamb, which is a thaw, cook and serve dinner, along with a salad of their house brand baby greens. If you're looking for fresh flowers and herbs they have some of the best around and again at the best prices. During the grocery strike a couple years ago, I shopped almost exclusively at TJ's, and we never ate better. Convenience is now the only reason I shop anywhere else; my nearest supermarket also has a branch of my bank and a pharmacy where we have most of our prescriptions, but I make a point to get to TJ's every week or two to stock up on our favorites.

Foulard de la semaine

Moreton Bay Fig Morris

Happy May Day! Back in my Morris Dancing days I would have been lacing up my bells about now to dance the sun up per Morris tradition. But today I'm celebrating this dawn more sedately, with a double espresso and a glance at my favorite blogs.


On to this week's foulard: yes, it's the truly gorgeous "Billets-Doux" scarf by Ashley Ashoff, which I first admired a couple weeks ago. Despite my protestations about being over budget for clothing purchases this month, I succumbed to the lure of its pure blue color and words of love. It arrived late last week, but we were having quite the heat wave, and yesterday was the first day it was cool enough to wear it.


I first tried it on tied loosely like a man's tie.
But the fabric is so fluid and drapes so nicely, and the pattern so pretty, I decided to show it off to better advantage: This is another variation on the "bib" with that the ends left hanging loose in front. You can also secure by running both ends through a scarf ring in the back if you don't want to have to continually readjust.