When my father died, my sisters called to tell me. It was not unexpected and was, in many ways, a relief for him and everyone who loved him, but that does not lessen the loss or the finality of death. They gave me the news and I sat there, quietly stunned at how much more painful it was than Thought it would be. I think I whimpered, trying not to cry. So my oldest sister said, “Go make yourself a coffee. It’s a good thing. I’ll call you back after you’ve had a coffee.” I had to laugh to myself, because coffee as comfort is so very much the legacy of my dad, a first generation Swedish American.
Coffee is a ritual for Scandinavians who consume more coffee per capita than any other people in the world. Most people in the US are familiar with coffee breaks at the work place, but in a Swedish American home, there are coffee breaks every day, when we would all sit down together and enjoy a good cup of coffee with some bread and cheese or some fruit or a dessert. And by all, I mean all. Children get coffee with milk as soon as they are old enough to hold a cup without spilling it. Continue reading
Heidi Volare may be familiar to blog readers as the author of The Fashionable Heart, but she graces us today as Guest Stylist. She has an easy, casual style that ranges from jeans and t-shirt to super-sexy club dresses, or as she referred to it, “the hoochie.” I don’t know, myself, I think she looks a bit too elegant for hoochie. She’s the perfect femme fatale.
Everybody knows that femme fatales haunt moody, eccentric and atmospheric nightclubs, so we went to Flashman’s, where Art Deco meets idiosyncrasy and one can imagine a thousand stories. I can imagine the “Lost Generation” idling here while arguing the finer points of a sentence or Weimar Republic spies passing maps or world-class thieves planning their next caper around the hookah.
Gidge has had been having me help around the store, hauling stuff over from the old one, dusting, doing some touch up on the walls where movers scraped the paint and helping with the unpacking. It’s a messy job with lots of running in and out of the building over to where her merchandise was piled up in the snow. It made sense to dress for the occasion in this warm and snuggly fleece from Aitui. I tossed on some old jeans from Zaara that I know are a few years old and all, but hey, when you are bending down and hauling crap around, you need comfortable jeans with some give, the kind of give that only comes from wearing them for a few years, right?
But then she traipses off to ride a pink turtle or pig or elephant or some such thing leaving me to manhandle the last few items into place. Seriously, did she think I could move that globe by myself? It’s Too Big!!! So, I got on the phone, so to speak, and called up Hybie who, good friend that she is, came over to lend a hand no questions ask. She helped wrestle that globe from the crate into the store and didn’t even complain about how cold she must have been feeling in those sandals. She was wearing the new dress from Maitreya. It was the first I had seen it in-world. It so lives up to expectations. As you can see, my feet were far more cozy in these wonderfully warm and dry boots from FIR & MNA.
I think I have the best ex-boyfriends a girl could possibly want. One of my favorites is Vogel, or more officially Schrottvogel Wei. I met him long ago when I was looking for a custom-made surfboard and we have been friends ever since. Since you readers have been shy about volunteering as guest stylist, I invited him to show off his style. I know he has style since I have worn his bikinis a few times on this blog. Now, don’t forget, if you want to do a guest stylist shoot, IM Gidge or me.
He suggested artilleri for the shoot as a place that would fit his somewhat Rockabilly style. It was pure kismet that there happened to be a car in front that had the same flames as his shirt. That was just too perfect to pass by. Of course, the shirt is made by artilleri’s Antonia Marat, but there aren’t cars parked in fornt with the same print as all her other shirts. Besides, those Chucks have flames, too, and they are from Akeyo.
London calling to the faraway towns
Now that war is declared-and battle come down
London calling to the underworld
Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls
London calling, now don’t look at us
All that phoney Beatlemania has bitten the dust
London calling, see we ain’t got no swing
‘Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing