Archive for the ‘Appreciative’ Category

Alcohol + Accessories

In the 1920s, cloches were coded. A firm knot trim indicated the wearer was married and unavailable. An arrow-shaped ribbon indicated a single girl that was already in love, and a flashy bow meant single and looking for love!

Craft your own cloche? Click here.

Recession depression is curable, so it seems.  A furtive swig from the forbidden flask under the cover of a coveted cloche is the perfect cocktail for hard times. A Valentine’s Day visit to Soho’s The Hat Shop reaffirmed this medical fact.

Historically, during financial crises sales of alcohol and accessories climb.  Linda Pagan, proprietress of SoHo’s The Hat Shop and devotee to the church of chapeaux (I suspect she has a hat for every day and occasion), remarked that last year business boomed.   Why would I not contribute to her good fortune, a gesture that not only warms the head but the heart? Millinery is a handcraft infused with historical, political, and social importance, and one that requires concerted attention to preserve.  From top hat to bonnet to veil, what is worn on the head tells many tales – some tall, some short – of the person underneath.

As a gift from my husband and in our effort to support the handmade, I anxiously await a custom aubergine eyelash cloche. To quell the excitement, last evening a friend and I attended the Milliners’ Guild Fashion Show.  It was quite a wild night (would you ever believe that?!), one that involved derobing all but the piece de resistance:  the hat!

Share |

Tags: , ,
Posted in Appreciative, Creative | 16 Comments »

Scarflette Tartlette

Next year's scarflette

Next year's scarflette, perhaps?

A gorgeous sparkle flourish increases allure to this scarflette.

Valentine’s Day 2010 marks the first year I am deeply attached to two loves. C’est pas vrai?!  The forbidden love triangle!

The first love goes to my dashing husband.  We will be inseparable as we brunch and crush on one another and our much beloved New York.  The tie that binds, the capstone to the love triangle, is the delicious buttery texture of a handmade scarflette, wrapped come-hitherly round the decolletage.

It seals the deal on a year of love –  thoughtfully crafted in unison.  One in which a supportive husband believes that his wife’s entrepreneurial aspirations and craft life are worth exploring;  And, one where a wife believes her computer engineering husband deserves to live a life surrounded by art, craft, design, and all sorts of visual intrigue and expression.

I guess this is one of those rare occasions where we welcome a third party into our relationship.  It’s a symbol of love and cooperation.  We hope to continue to craft a closely knit marriage of mutual support.

More akin to my humble scarflette. On Saturday, I will be meeting with my faithful tutor Victoria to fix dropped stitches and add buttons.

~ Cheers to all Scarflette Tartlettes!

What do you share in your relationships, in your marriages?

Share |

Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in Appreciative, Playful, Sentimental | 14 Comments »

Knotting in New York

I used to think New York was a place of grand gestures, and that this city would make me better simply by association. All I had to do was walk with purpose through any one of the revolving doors belonging to Sixth Avenue’s looming skyscrapers and. . . poof, I was made.  That was the easy way.

The hard way is walking through a much more humble door, belonging to a small shop where anonymity isn’t allowed (if only because the space is limited), and beseeching one’s help face-to-face is a prerequisite.  I was all knotted up.  This was for real! And so, here is how this afternoon’s reality transpired:

Enter Purl Soho, a yarn yard of outrageously vibrant hues.

Enter Amy, my dream weaver.*

Enter I, knotted up.

Amy and I milled about the yarns, talking the yarn talk.  I got my first pair of chopsticks and fabric.  Yes, that’s what I called them.  I was ready to quit after the exhausting task of getting familiar with yarn, but Amy is a for real knitter and wanted to get on with it.

Over a cup of tepid coffee with extra sugar to get rid of the coffee taste (Amy had for real coffee with extra coffee aroma), she taught me how not to be a knotter, but a true knitter.   With each knit and purl, which I was not supposed to do, I got a bit closer to confidence.  Knots melted from my body and wove themselves through my chopsticks and into my fabric.

It’s too early to tie up all the loose ends of this story.  What I can conclude is that the small gesture of two chopsticks humbly and happily clickity clacking is something I can get used to as I make my way through the streets and avenues of New York.

* Outside of teaching  me how not to be a knit wit, Amy can be found living her own dreams on her blog.

Share |

Tags: , ,
Posted in Appreciative, Playful, Social | 15 Comments »

Textured Time

What a week! As I sit from my perch at the side of a quiet, yet dignified old brownstone fireplace amongst the personal effects that make my life meaningful: husband, heavy tomes + light novellas alike, a sundry of objets trouves from our travels,and one special piece I made called Textured Time, I sense an approaching serenity.

Quelle surprise. This is the sentiment of a woman who usually finds herself in a flurry of activity on Sunday.  Always. Wanting. More. Until sidelined with a physically debilitating and emotionally crushing flu that threw me into a serious bout of self reflection.

Last night when my husband buried me under the covers, willing my fever to break, a slew of images swirled about. In the onset of visual vertigo and a deafening – literally – ear infection, I relived the week’s monumental happenings.

The private event at the Museum of Art & Design, the culmination of a month-long sprint of politicking and art prattling, turned out to be one of the most rewarding art events I’ve planned to date.

This photo reminds me of the days I used to coordinate luncheons in the arts for prominent art collectors. This one, though, had the Clueless Crafter branded all over it: lighthearted exchange amongst a bevy of beautiful and intriguing decorative objects.

The article Don’t Do It Yourself, born out of a year’s rumination on the rewards and risks of the handmade life.

The handmade clock Textured Time (which I truly adore and therefore named!) is the result of the Bauhaus Lab I attended at The Museum of Modern Art.

My interpretation of a day recorded in the material world. Feathers mark daybreak; creams punctuated by black velour signify the struggle to wake; soft blues and silkyviolet show the daily humdrum; and, heavy orange plaids are the day's seconds woven together, fiery with hope and the prospect of another day richly lived.

And now last week’s excitement is screeching to a halt and another week is on the brink.  I am left with sights, sounds, and feelings of a time that will never have the same texture.  There is a profound sense of loss as I grapple with the past and the will to go forward.  What next?

The hard part about life is loss.  Sometimes all we can do is cling longingly to a relic.  I’m glad that this evening I have Textured Time with me.  Thank god I made it.

What textures of time gone by do you cherish most?

Share |

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Appreciative, Candid, Disillusioned, Melancholic, Puzzled, Reflective | 16 Comments »

On Continuity

Pieter Brueghel, The Elder (1565). A stop-dead-in-your-tracks vision of the hunt. At this moment, I can see the shadows of my art history professor's gesticulations on the wall of the lecture hall, carrying us through the scene guided by a private passion unleashed.

Pieter Brueghel, The Elder (1565). A stop-dead-in-your-tracks vision of the hunt.

In my world –  that little microcosm that rotates next to yours – the holiday season stirs the hunt: The hunt for love, attention, food, shelter and, on my Upper West Side, for the path that is bound to lead our future family to great fortune.

But the hunt for food is not the same as fortune.  The former fulfills primitive need; the latter, modern desire.

This very early morning before the sky was fully light and I was still with myself, I secretly plunged into the tallest snowbank.  Ice, cold, fear and freedom overwhelmed my Wellies and for a split second all I wanted was warmth, not a bit more.  The hunt was over.

Feeling at one with the primeval search, a sense of serenity infiltrates my harried holiday soul. Clueless and hubby must now go to warmer climes, to be with sisters and parents.  And, to craft local dishes such as cho-cho, kallaloo, pop-chow, curried goat, and ox-tail stew alongside Millie, a chef who preserves his island’s heritage with pride.

Where does your hunt end?  How do you come home for the holiday?

Ad Continuum,

The Clueless Crafter

Share |

Tags: ,
Posted in Appreciative, Reflective, Spiritual | 14 Comments »

What-if Holidays

With Thanksgiving 2009 in the bag and my feeling a bit more like one, I have had a precious moment to reflect.

The fete commenced Wednesday night with the requisite - if you’re a New Yorker, a bit whimsical, and have a brood of kiddies –  visit to the Macy’s Parade balloon blow-up headquarters on the perimeter of the American Museum of Natural History.  What a blow out!  Indebted to a playful Blogher contributor and friend Suzanne Reisman who hosted a party for the event, the hubby and I experienced our first rain-soaked, festive gathering of thankful Manhattanites who, like me, worship Papa Smurf.

Papa Smurf and lots of rain

Big Daddy Smurf

Arriving home late, we shifted into pack-for-the-6am flight-to-the-in-laws-in-Chicago mode.  In an out of character move, I gave no advanced thought about what to wear for Thanksgiving.  Game plan: go with the gut.  After all, that’s what a good part of the holiday centers on.  Amongst an abundance of dresses, tops, shoes, tights and accessories, I stuffed the luggage full of whatever seemed right.  With the last zip of the London Fog travel gear, we were off.

As dawn broke outside the window of seat 24B, it, well, dawned on me that something unusual had happened.  I turned to hubby, poked his shoulder, and shouted with a fusion of awe and glee that I think I had dressed like a turkey.  Huh, he says?!

What-if holidays we dressed the part?

Thankfully it was not a literal interpretation, rather a mere channeling of the Thanksgiving spirit, but it was a significant “coincidence” that warrants an extra forkful of sharing.

* The layered ruffles of the J.Crew dress with iridescent purple and chartreuse hues look a tad like the plumes of feathers on the turkey’s bodice, right?

* The striped turtleneck could be mistaken for the wings or tough dark skin on its legs, no doubt?

* The patent leather brown oxford shoes with the talon heel, could they not be the bird’s feet?

* And, c’mon, the rose scarf hanging loosely around the neck?  Is that not the turkey’s wattle?

When the ensemble that emerged from my suitcase was fully arranged, I and my wattle had a glorious gut-busting laugh.

On this What-if Holiday, I continue to be thankful for the freedom to express and the abundant ways that one can go about it.

My muse

My muse

A turkey impression that I can't believe I am posting

A turkey impression that I can't believe I am posting

Displaying my turkey flair

Displaying my turkey flair

It reminds me of a recent visit with mom to see the exhibit “Rare Bird of Fashion:  The Irreverent Iris Apfel” at the Peabody Essex Museum.  Iris is a rare bird, summoning the spirit of her interior life and making it visible to the world.  Her audacious expressions rejuvenated my spirit, leaving me with that extra boost of chutzpah to go out into the world with all my feathers splayed.

Click on the links above for an amazing application that allows you to curate Ms. Apfel’s wardrobe for yourself! A perfect opportunity to play What-if I . . .?

Share |

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Absurd, Appreciative, Intellectual, Playful, Quirky, Reflective, Spiritual | 14 Comments »

A Ritual Exchange in New England

IMG_1042

Mom and I have a ritual. When I cross the bridge into my quaint, insular Cape Ann and round the bend onto Beach Road, the trappings of New York Lydia are promptly stuffed in the washer. In their absence, cozy fabric-softener-fresh Gloucester chic is eagerly pulled from the hot dryer.  Fall days require warm leggings, sueded puma flats, down vests and layers of pashimnas around the neck.  The Atlantic wind is unforgiving!

Our ritual takes place on the floor of The Stock Exchange, a New England consignment shop packed to its gills with artfully displayed antiques, decorative pillows, linens, furniture, sea motif watercolors and women’s second hand designer clothing – to name only a few treasures. Whenever I make a visit home, we invariably find ourselves there.

We coo, critique, oooh and ahhh, imagine, think big, seek small, visualize, look back, dig down, sing praises, share doubts, seize with passion, and quiver with uncertainty, all on the stage of The Stock Exchange.

“Mom, mom!” I hold up my recent “find,” an oversized ceramic bowl, “wouldn’t this be perfect for a winter soup?”.  Without hesitation an effortless smile beams my way, “Yes, and I love that pattern!”. Nothing is more valuable than the approving nod of a mother; nothing more heart wrenching than the furrowed brow of her disapproval. Sometimes she is right. I’ve trotted back to our floor-through apartment with a dreadful vase (or two).

Though our exchanges vary depending on what’s in stock, there is always one thing being traded: a shared love for the spiritual in the everyday.  This is our ritual.

IMG_1047

Yes, we have started the fall 2009 season off with gusto!  With burgeoning confidence, I sleuthed the nooks of The Exchange with a refined aesthetic sensibility, strolling home with a pair of brown buttery leather opera length gloves.  Mom’s prized booty: a dainty plant stand that doubles as a place to rest a steaming mug of coffee in the early dawn hours.

Rituals form bonds.  The Stock Exchange is one bond we are happy to share.

For musing over exquisitely styled display windows and to experience the thrill of walking amongst an endless array of thoughtfully arranged vignettes, visit The Stock Exchange.  They are just that much of a secret that they don’t have a website. However, here are a few mentions around the net.

A similar find in your area?  Share with us!

IMG_1049

IMG_1048

IMG_1043

Share |

Tags: , , ,
Posted in Appreciative, Aspirational, Reflective | 8 Comments »