Christmas Gold

For Christmas, donning a bit of gold is always festive. Lately, neutral shades have been my default decision, and with a bit of flashy earrings, tend to lend a polished and sophisticated to even a basic, classic cotton v-neck sweater. These funky earrings were an awesome find from one of my favorite hidden boutique gems in Millsboro, Delaware, a few mile drive from the beach vacation home of my dear family friends. As summer waned, welcoming the cool autumnal winds, I joined my friend Sarah for a long weekend there; we enjoyed the feast of crabs, but totally indulged at the Millsboro Bazaar. Living in New York, we are well acclimated to steep prices, for vintage and contemporary goods. Being inside such a large, well-stocked shop with reasonable prices generally means any type of self-restraint is abandoned. This gold pair, a series of gilded concentric circles, evoke the almost-oblong shape of clams, bivalves that are popular in our Mid-Atlantic region. Similar to some of my other favorite pairs, these earrings have a great balance of shape and texture, of simplicity and intrigue.

Christmas Eve: Purposefully Festive

For the Christmas Eve celebrations the other evening, I once again donned a tried, true flannel, this time in a deep hunter green motif, and my cascading multi-strand costume pearls. Rather than risk becoming a bit of a hackneyed holiday trope, I decided against a matte red lip, opting for a bright, cheerful redish cherry pink. This Pendleton wool flannel was a treasure scored from a consignment shop somewhere in suburban New Jersey. Most likely, it is intended for an adolescent boy, which for me, means it nestles the hips and my waist in a more flattering fashion than boxy men's and even women's cuts, though, admittedly, the sleeves are a bit short.

Our tradition for years has involved commemorating the spirit of the day with dear, cherished family friends, my childhood best friend, her older sister, and her parents. We eat much, drink too much, and laugh. While in some cases, the movements seem route, acted in a trance of memory and nostalgia, it is comfortable and has a sort of beautiful rhythm. In a tumultuous time, and in the wake of growing inevitable older, I like that some things, at least not yet, do not change. My birthday is tomorrow; I cannot help feeling a bit wistful at the passing of the years, remembering the old adventures, looking forward to the new.

Post-holiday lounging soundtrack: Dream River Bill Callahan

Accidentally Festive

Last week, it was not until I was in the office when I realized that my plaid paired with pearls, prep-influenced, was inadvertently very festive: the prevailing colors were inevitably seasonal red and green. Though the undertones of blue and yellow almost salvage this very comfortable and classic plaid from novelty, I still felt a bit as though I were a younger, J. Crew-frequenting mistress to old Saint Nicholas himself. Always my own harshest critic, honestly, I probably could have donned some cream furry vest and a red lip and appeared in a plethora of popular catalogs wishing consumers good tidings and happy spending. 

Making a List, Checking it Twice

As usual, the Christmas season of gift-giving, good cheer, and eggnog-induced stretch pant proclivities has crept up on me, silently stalking like some graceful cat and now ready to pounce. Also typical, I have yet to purchase any presents and, when posed the fundamental question of "what do you want for Christmas" by my mother, found I had not even thought about it and was speechless. Spending a moment or two today considering, I realized what I want is either intangible and abstract, say, a lifetime of challenge and utter contentedness, or is utterly ludicrous, say, a fainting goat and an enormous citrine cocktail ring. Or an island, populated solely by a personal cabin. Or for my darling, beautiful niece to, magically, never make any of the mistakes I have made. This list of impracticality could continue for quite some time.

With eyes fresh, new, in a metabolic whir of constant amazement, shopping for Winona by far is the easiest and most enjoyable. In an absolute worst-case scenario, she would be delighted unwrapping a box of sticks, relishing ripping the paper, and using said detritus to antagonize the dog. Or build an imagination cabin, on some far off island of her own making. 

(image taken from A Well Traveled Woman)