The French Touch

The Lady Is a Champ !

2012-03-12T14:49:00.001-04:00

Last week, CBS 3 honored three-time Emmy award winning TV news anchor, journalist and co-host of the most popular daytime news and lifestyle show in Philadelphia, Talk Philly, on the occasion of her 30th Anniversary at the Station.

Oh, and did I mention that Pat Ciarrocchi has been my friend for more than a decade longer than that?

I met Pat in the Library, the Gertrude Kistler Memorial Library to be precise, at Rosemont College, a small Catholic women’s college in Pennsylvania. We were fellow Freshmen of the class of 1974. A small group of eager, determined young women, our Class motto was: “The only girls who ask for more are in the Class of ’74!!” Indeed, there were some extraordinary women in that Class, but we all knew there was one among us who would make us all proud. It was just a matter of time.

We didn’t have long to wait. Soon, Pat was popping up on the local news. “There’s our Pat,” we’d say.

And in 1982, she joined the prestigious CBS 3 (then KYW-TV) Eyewitness news team as an anchor.

The rest, as they say is broadcast history.

When she’s not co-hosting her show or chasing down stories for her segments on the afternoon and evening news, she donates her time to charitable and worthy causes for women and children. And she doesn’t just show up at these events……………she usually runs them. Pat is totally hands on from making speeches to calling out the numbers for the raffles and door prizes. She will do whatever it takes to make these events a success.

Frankly, I have watched her do all this for years and I still have no idea how she manages to juggle it all – career, marriage, family, friendships – and keep her balance. But she does.

When I call her, I often hear this:

“Hi, M, I’m on a story. Call you later. Love ‘ya.”

And she does call me later.

We share a love of many things -- opera, food and wine, girl talk, laughter.

She is passionate about fashion and classic style, as am I.

Here we are with our favorite fashion accessory – a bottle of wine.

And then there’s that big, warm Ciarrocchi smile. It’s her trademark.

I have seen her fans absolutely glow in the reflected light of that megawatt smile.

But it isn’t just about making friends for Pat; it’s about nurturing and sustaining friendships over the years that truly matters to her.

She makes it all look so easy, that even those of us who know better sometimes forget what it takes to be that consistently good, day in and day out.

We have just come to expect it from our Pat, because she always delivers.

That’s why the Lady is a Champ.

"Love ‘ya, P. Call you later."

Dealing with Weighty Matters

2012-03-09T14:56:00.002-05:00

Whether short (me) or tall (my brother), no one in my family has ever had a problem with his or her weight. Other than sweets, which I don’t eat because I don’t like them, I have always eaten whatever I wanted. Basically, my weight has pretty much remained the same within a pound or two either way throughout my adult life. I take no credit for this, because it’s probably genetic.

I mention this not to pat myself on the back but to make the point that I have no personal experience with diets and dieting. The only thing I know about diets is that they work when you’re on them and stop working when you’re not. Other than that, I’m pretty clueless about them. At least, I was…………..

About two years ago, a beautiful black and white kitten with the most amazing copper-colored eyes joined our feline family. I named her Allegra. When I picked her up after her spaying (equivalent to a hysterectomy for a woman) the Vet told me that during the surgery, he removed quite a bit of fat around her stomach.

“Really!” I said in mild surprise. “Do you mean you did a kitty liposuction?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “I guess I did.

Although she gets the same amount of food as her brother, Victor, and sister, Cecilia, Allegra has continued to gain weight.

Even my husband, who insisted she was just big boned, has finally admitted that she is somewhere north of chubby. The truth is, when Allegra walks she looks like Tugboat Annie pulling the QE II to shore behind her.

At her last checkup, the Vet said, “Mrs. Norris, your cat is obese and headed for severe health problems if we don’t do something about her weight right now, before it’s too late.” The voice of doom!

Feeling a bit defensive, like an overindulgent Mother, I told him that she got the same food in the same amount as her slimmer brother and sister, which was absolutely true. “It’s not your fault,” he replied. “It’s probably genetic.”

The decision was made to put Allegra on the Purina Weight Loss Program. A pretty and perky young thing named Krista introduced herself to me as Allegra’s Weight Loss Coach. My husband and I left with a big bag of OM (overweight management) food and a file folder full of useful information on feline obesity, nutrition, coupons and charts to track her progress. Wow! Who knew?

Tuesday night was Allegra’s first weigh-in. I am happy to report that she has lost 8 oz. (1/2 a pound) to everyone’s delight. I got a “Good job, Mom!!” from an enthusiastic Krista and Allegra got a big hug from her Weight Loss Coach and a gold star on her chart with a little kitty smiley face next to it. My husband and I were all smiles, too. Allegra was less enthusiastic and headed straight for the safety of the cat carrier in anticipation of the trip home. Her next weigh-in is in April. We’re all keeping our fingers and paws crossed that things continue in the right direction and Allegra gets another gold star on her chart. I’ll keep you posted.

The following day I visited Madame Mère at St. Mary’s Catholic Home where she has been a resident for the last three years. When I walked in, she was clearly in a state of high anxiety.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” I asked concerned.

“I have a big problem,” she replied. “My clothes don’t fit anymore. I think I’m gaining weight. That’s never happened to me before,” she moaned.

“Well, it’s normal to gain some weight as you get older,” I said. “After all, you’ll be 96 this year. I guess it’s about time you gained a pound or two; however, if you’re concerned about it, you can go on a diet, or exercise a little bit or, maybe, one glass of wine at dinner instead of two? I’ve been reading a lot about nutrition and diets lately, maybe I could………………”

She cut me off with a wave of her hand and then gave me that look that used to freeze my six-year-old soul dead in its tracks……………

“JUST GET ME SOME NEW CLOTHES!” she said. Problem solved.

Celeb Street Chic – Getting It Right

2012-02-26T15:50:00.003-05:00

Whether stepping in front of the camera or out onto the street, in the good old days of Hollywood glam, the Studios made sure that their Stars always looked perfectly put together

Except for Red Carpet events, today’s celebrities and those who are just famous for being famous are pretty much on their own, with predictable results.

Without the proper guidance, many of them just don’t have a clue about style and how to put themselves together.

Many………..but not all. Some of them definitely do get it right.

It doesn’t get more right than this. Actress Ali Larter, a New Jersey native I hasten to add proudly, has put together a fabulous street chic outfit in neutral tones.

This whole look is about layers and texture. The loose Tee has a silky feel to it and its rounded hem peaks out from a cropped blazer. That fitted jacket in grey tweed gives the entire outfit structure and classic sophistication.

The skin-tight leather pants and sexy stilettos add a dash of je ne sais quoi, and we all know quoi when we see it, don’t we, Ladies?

Ditto for the studded neutral bag which adds a bit of rocker edge.

And, is that a little pop of red peaking out of her handbag? Perhaps a scarf she threw in at the last minute in case the weather should turn nippy. What a great touch.

Except for a bracelet (which could be a watch), the entire outfit is unembellished, and its clean lines just epitomize the best of casual street chic.

At first glance you might be tempted dismiss Katie Holmes’ look here as a bit too casual…on the verge of sloppy.

But, give it a second look and you’ll see that it has a sweet, simple charm all its own.

Again, the look is about neutrals and texture. The over-sized, bulky knit sweater over a pair of skin-tight jeans and suede boots, all in neutral shades, create a perfect balance for her small frame.

The eye goes immediately to the over-sized, bright red bag which crosses her body on the diagonal, visually breaking up the bulk of the sweater.

Not only are there no embellishments, but Katie has pulled her hair up into a sweet and simple chignon, and, unless I’m very much mistaken, there appears to be not a hint of makeup on that classically beautiful face.

I think she looks adorable.

I just love this outfit on Jessica Alba.

The whole thing has a vintage feel to it until you get to the shoes.

The mid-calf floral dress is pure 60s. I had one just like it……actually, I think I had quite a few……….it was the “it” dress of its time.

The print on the dress is in warm tones, but she has chosen to top it off with an interesting scarf duo – one in a warm tone which picks up one of the shades in the dress, and the other in a cool tone.

The addition of that outer scarf in a cool tone, what appears to be a pale grey or pewter, is an interesting choice as the color contrast makes the whole outfit pop.

And then there are those adorable wedge booties in a warm neutral whose color does not compete for attention with the dress. They don’t need to. They create their own style buzz by kicking the whole outfit up several notches from retro to modern.

Just look at her face. When a woman touches her hair like that, she is telling the world that she looks fabulous and she knows it.

And, of course, how could we get through our fashion day without a Pippa sighting??!!

Do I even need to explain why she has become such a fashion icon?

Again, an artful mix of texture and neutral colors until you come to the coat.

Just look at this great double-breasted, 60s-inspired coat in fire engine red!

There must have been something special in the water at the Middleton home when Kate and Pippa were growing up to have produced two such stylish young women.

While lamenting the loss of the good old days of Hollywood glam, I have high hopes for the future, particularly with the Middleton sisters leading the way to a new era of style and glam that young women everywhere can emulate and then make their own.

New York Fashion Week – Setting the World on Fire?

2012-02-21T00:05:00.001-05:00

Saturday, February 11th, midway through New York Fashion Week, I am sitting in the Grand Tier of the Metropolitan Opera watching the world come to an end.

In the final moments of Richard Wagner’s Götterdämmerung, the last opera of his epic masterpiece, “The Ring Cycle,” the world is set ablaze by a woman who has loved, lost and taken her revenge.

But, there is sooo much more to the story of the warrior Valkyrie, Brünnhilde, and her hero, Siegfried.

Betrayed by the man she loves and complicit in his murder, after lighting Siegfried’s funeral pyre, Brünnhilde mounts her winged stallion Grane and rides into the flames to perish with the man she loves. The flames of their love set the world ablaze destroying it completely. The effect of that final scene never fails to set my soul on fire.

Not far from where I was sitting, the runway shows were falling far short of setting the fashion world on fire. This year’s Fashion Week in New York was dubbed “derivative” by some and sneered at as a “snoozer” by others, meaning there were no avant-garde breakout trends to set the hearts of the fashion cognoscenti on fire. With a few exceptions, most of the fashions being shown for fall 2012 were dismissed as tired and traditional. Some went so far as to use the dreaded “W” word ----wearable. Eeeke!! This, of course, was music to my ears.

So, have we nothing interesting to look forward to this fall?

Well, fur and leather will be back, and opera (over-the-elbow) gloves, a personal favorite of mine, adorned the slender arms of quite a few runway models last week.

Nothing makes a woman look more graceful and feminine than a pair of long gloves. These elegant beauties are from Diane von Furstenberg.

And the hot color for fall will be oxblood. This is a wonderfully understated color that works well for cool and warm color palettes alike.

A deep maroon with a tinge of reddish-brown, oxblood can stand on its own as an accent color or work equally well as a neutral upon which to build a great outfit.

These Derek Lam leather trousers in oxblood are paired with a neutral sleeveless top and a fur neck wrap in a warm hue of deep beige.

You don’t have to be a stick figure model to pull off this look.

Nanette Lepore featured these metallic oxford-style shoes.

Aren’t they just fabulous?

Male-inspired footgear has been quite the rage for the last few years and appears to be a continuing trend for fall.

I have a great pair of saddle colored oxford ties with a 2” stacked heel which have become my absolute favorite run-around-town shoes.

And my black, patent-leather loafers with thick crepe soles are absolutely perfect for an afternoon of antiquing.

So, maybe this year’s fall fashions won’t set the world on fire. That’s fine with me. When it comes to setting the world on fire, no one can hold a candle, or should I say a torch, to Brünnhilde.

Finding a Helipad for Helicopter Parents

2012-02-07T17:55:00.003-05:00

After decades of keeping my terrible secret, I have finally found the courage to come clean and admit the awful truth…..I am not now, nor have I ever been, particularly interested in babies.

While other women oooohed and aaaahed and were eager to hold and cuddle them, when some beaming Mother dumped one in my lap, I couldn’t wait to return it. Generally wet at both ends, I found them squidgy and squirmy, and they always left permanent marks on my clothes.

I did, however, find them interesting and sometimes amusing when they began to develop personalities at the toddler stage.

But, somewhere along the line, probably around the time American mothers began to devour how-to books with the word “parenting” in them, the relationship between mother and child became totally reinvented, and the whole toddler phase quickly lost its charm for me as well.

Newly enlightened mothers seemed convinced that the simple act of passing through the birth canal endowed these squidgy little beings with wisdom beyond their years or, in this case, wisdom beyond their months.

These mothers were convinced that baby was born knowing what was best for him/her – when and what to eat, when to go to bed, when to be potty trained, etc. And to thwart any of his/her desires was to risk psychological damage that might be irreversible.

A friend of mine refused to put her little girl to bed until the child told her she was ready. “She knows when she’s ready to go to bed,” my friend insisted. Have you ever seen a three-year-old tug on her mother’s skirt and say, “Mother dear, I do believe I am feeling rather sleepy at the moment; I think it is time for me to retire for the evening?” Neither have I.

As a result, every night the poor little thing would wander around exhausted, bumping into walls and furniture until she finally collapsed in a heap wherever she happened to be; at which point, my friend would pick her up, undress her, and put her to bed. Two hours later the frightened child would wake up to find herself alone in a dark room and scream in terror. This was a nightly ritual I witnessed on many occasions.

Although born and raised in the US, my French parents raised my brother and me very much à la française, and while much has changed in France, not all of it for the better, child rearing has hardly changed at all. By and large, French children are still raised the same way I was several generations ago. It worked then and it still works now, as American writer Pamela Druckerman found out to her surprise when she moved to France 10 years ago and began having children of her own.

Following a brief, frustrating visit to a restaurant with her husband and toddler, during which the little girl upset salt shakers, ripped open sugar packets, screamed to get out of her high chair and had to be physically restrained from trashing the establishment, Ms. Druckerman could not help but notice the difference between her out-of-control child and the well-behaved French children around her as they and their families enjoyed leisurely four-course dinners. Not only were the adults able to enjoy actual adult conversations uninterrupted, but the children were actually eating the same food as their parents and actually enjoying it.

On the other hand, she and her husband had had to bolt down their dinners and beat a hasty retreat before her little girl did any more damage.

Fascinated, she decided to find out what she was doing wrong and what French mothers were doing right.

The result is Bringing Up Bébé, a delightful and insightful exploration of the differing “parenting” styles of French and American moms.

Much of what she discovers about the French method of child rearing has to do with a structured routine, setting boundaries or the cadre (frame), saying non, non, non and meaning it and giving the child enough alone time so that he can learn how to amuse himself, developing his creativity.

While the American helicopter mom hovers anxiously over her child in an effort to keep him constantly stimulated, the French mom takes a more relaxed attitude, knowing that over-stimulation is not healthy and boredom does not necessarily lead to self-destructive behavior.

Ms. Druckerman readily admits that the numerous cultural and societal support systems in place in France contribute to the success of parenting à la française. If Ms. Druckerman decides one day to repatriate with her now three children to the United States, it will be interesting to see if she can successfully transplant the French parenting style to her American way of life as my parents did many years ago.

Hmmmm…..sounds like a great idea for her next book??!!

I Like Her Attitude !

2012-01-24T17:00:00.002-05:00

I HATE, HATE, HATE to get up in the morning. As a little girl, my poor Mother would use every weapon in her Mommy arsenal from cajoling to threatening, and everything in between, to get me out of bed in the morning.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go school; I liked school and was always a good student. It was just that school started at what I considered to be an unreasonably early hour.

At University I scheduled as many classes as possible in the afternoons and worked at a department store in the evenings.

But, inevitably, there came a time when I had to join the mainstream work force and show up at an office by 8:30 a.m. EVERY MORNING!! Quelle horreur!! I never really got the hang of it.

And, just as inevitably, I fell in love with and married a “morning” person. (Saw that one coming, didn’t you?!)

My husband gets up BEFORE the alarm goes off just to get a jump on the day.

He goes for a run in the park, then shaves, showers and dresses and settles down to breakfast with Allegra and Cecilia, two of our cats, and the Wall Street Journal.

After kissing my still sleeping face and whispering “I love you,” he grabs his briefcase and heads out the door to take on the world.

Over the years of our marriage, we have adapted quite well to our differing biorhythms.

When I eventually do manage to get myself out of bed, Victor and I stumble down to the kitchen together. Victor, not really an “up‘n at’em” kinda cat, prefers soft morning snuggles to taking on the world. I quite agree.

I give Victor his breakfast, put the kettle on for my tea and settle down for a quiet read. My husband has left a neat pile of articles from the Wall Street Journal with notes such as, “You’ll enjoy this,” or “This will make you smile, even in the morning,” etc., etc. After almost 35 years of marriage, he knows my taste in reading material.

My Darjeeling is steeping in a Brown Betty when I run across a WSJ piece at the top of which he has scrawled, “I like this lady’s attitude!”

Manhattanite Linda Rodin is a former model, stylist to the famous and the creator of Olio Lusso, a beauty oil that clients and salons are buying up by the barrel.

She’s 63 years old and wears no make-up, other than lipstick, which she never leaves home without. I couldn’t agree more. A great shade of lipstick is the quickest, easiest and best thing a woman can do for her face at any age, but particularly as we age when the natural blush of our youthful lips begins to fade.

As I read the interview by Nicole Berrie, I discover Ms. Rodin and I have a lot in common.

We use the same cleansing lotion every evening – Cetaphil Lotion – which is available at your local drugstore and has been around for years. It’s gentle, effective and if I want something a bit richer in the winter months, I mix in a few drops of my moisturizing lotion to create a creamier face wash.

We wash and moisturize our faces while still wet before going to bed and splash on warm water only and moisturize, again while still wet, in the morning.

We are neither of us devotees of the current philosophy of constantly drinking water all day long. Ms. Rodin says, “I don't drink water except at night. My liquid is a cappuccino every morning and two glasses of wine at night.” I’ll drink to that!

I never cease to marvel at the number of grown men and women walking around sucking on bottles of water every five minutes to ward off the dreaded state of “dehydration!!” Yikes! Frankly, if I drink too much water during the day, I feel positively waterlogged.

And, finally, I must give major kudos to Ms. Rodin’s attitude towards aging. I’ll let her speak for herself.

“The secret to aging gracefully is maintenance. Botox is fine in moderation, but the more you do the older you look. You can't chase youth. You'll just look old with a facelift.” Amen to that.

We all know women who have gone too far and done too much. They end up looking as if their faces were put together by a committee. Not a pretty sight.

Yes, I think my husband was right. “I like this lady's attitude!”

Merry Christmas from Historic Haddonfield

2011-12-22T15:37:00.000-05:00

There were so many things I wanted to share with you all, my Gentle Readers, but the Holiday hustle and bustle has hustled away all my time. And so.... I will share with you my Christmas post from last year, because, in fact, very little changes from year to year in my corner of Brigadoon. May your holidays always be touched by the same, timeless magic.

CHRISTMAS IN HADDONFIELD

No matter where we are right now or where we’d like to be the rest of the year, that old song rings true as temperatures drop, expectations rise and Santa begins the pre-flight check on his sleigh. There is no place like home for the holidays.

And home for me is a small colonial town in New Jersey.

Fifteen minutes from Philadelphia, ninety minutes from New York and a world away in time, the historic Village of Haddonfield takes on a special magic every Christmas.

It all begins the day after Thanksgiving with candlelight shopping and weekend carriage rides through the center of town to the delight of young and old.

Now wrap up tightly and let’s take a stroll along Haddonfield’s main street.

First stop, the local fabric store where a group of carolers in top hat and muffler has stopped by to offer a hearty “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” in return for a warm smile and a hot cup of wassail.

Have they left Tiny Tim outside to warm himself by the fire of roasting chestnuts? Or perhaps he stayed behind to feed a shiny red apple to the carriage horse.

A few doors down we pass Accent Studio which features the work of local artists. The glow from the candlelight illuminates the beautiful glass creations displayed in the windows (Artists l/r:Richard Stava, Little River Hot Glass).

Shall we stop for a cup of tea at the Picket Fence?

This is a wonderful place to pick up every accessory imaginable for the perfect afternoon tea.

Yummy!!

Here we are at the Haddonfield Floral Company where I buy all my flowers.

How can you possibly resist this adorable snowman with his little twig arms wrapped around a beautiful Christmas bouquet?

He’s even cuter than the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Don’t you just want to poke his fat belly?

And a little farther along Kings Highway we come to one of my favorite shops in all of Haddonfield, Georgie Girl.

This delightful, two-story boutique is a treasure trove of clothes and accessories with a decidedly European flair.

The second floor is devoted to gorgeous lingerie ranging from cute and cuddly to drop dead glam. Cynthia and her staff are as knowledgeable as they are helpful. I wouldn’t buy my lingerie anywhere else.

And………….want to know a little Christmas Secret? Rumor has it that Mrs. Claus, herself, is a regular customer. Who do you think puts the rosy in Santa’s cheeks???

And, of course, no visit to Haddonfield would be complete without wishing our oldest resident a very Merry Christmas.

The hadrosaurus foullkii was the first intact dinosaur skeleton every to be discovered. And she was found right here in Haddonfield.

I think she looks just fabulous for her age, don’t you?

Right about now your feet must be starting to ache. Time to stop by the Haddonfield Inn, pull up a comfy chair by a cozy fire, sip some mulled wine and feel the warmth of family and friends.

I hope you have enjoyed your Christmas visit to my town as much as I have enjoyed sharing it with you.

Come back again very soon.

Until then, may I wish you and yours all the love and beauty of this joyous season.

(All photos courtesy of Town of Haddonfield's official website.)

A Little Something For Your Holiday Hair

2011-12-06T22:39:00.005-05:00

In Secrets of the Little Black Dress I revealed the perfect accessory for the LBD -- a crystal flute filled with Veuve Clicquot champagne. A perfect pairing and my personal favorite!

And so, if you followed my advice in that article, you have arrived fashionably late to the Holiday cocktail party wearing your perfect LBD. The champagne is chilling in a silver ice bucket while crystal flutes wait impatiently to be filled. It should be a perfect evening! But wait….no, no, no!! Something’s not right!! What have you done with your hair? The perfect LBD demands nothing less than the most elegant and classic of hairdos, the chignon. Just ask Audrey.

The high chignon is the most sophisticated version of the classic chignon.

There is not a hair out of place in this sleek up-do. Get your trigger finger ready on the hairspray for this one. You’ll need it.

If you have finely chiseled features, great cheekbones and beautifully arched eyebrows, this is the Do for you. Oh, and don’t forget the drop dead red lips. Your hair says, “Don’t touch!!” while your lips say, “Please muss!”

The mixed message is utterly intoxicating.

If you prefer to send a slightly softer, though still sophisticated, message to that attractive man in the corner who’s been sending you silent signals with his baby blues all evening, go for a deconstructed a/k/a a messy chignon.

This sweet, girl-next-door, low chignon holds the delicious promise that the slightest touch could make the whole thing come undone and you with it.

Now, what red-blooded man can possibly resist that?

Just as the LBD has her perfect accessory, the chignon has hers.

Nestle a beautiful flower in its folds and you have told the world that you are not only fiercely feminine, but utterly confident, because, my dear, if you wear a flower in your hair you will get noticed and you will love every minute of it.

Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz. “Who is that woman with the flower in her hair? She has such style and grace. Do you know her?”

And that attractive man in the corner who’s been sending you silent signals with his eyes will suddenly find his voice as he walks up to you and says, “I love that flower in your hair.”

You reply with a smile and your eyes meet over a glass of Veuve Clicquot. (Sigh!) Can this be Santa’s gift to you this Christmas? After all, you have been a very good girl.

Mr. Spencer had a dream. With the help of his little daughter, Fatima, he turned his inner city neighborhood into a garden paradise of plants and flowers so that his friends and neighbors and their children could see, smell and touch the beauty that Mother Nature can bestow upon us.

Although Mr. Spencer has passed on, his dream lives on in the artistic hands of his daughter.

In 2009, Fatima Spencer began selling her gorgeous handmade creations from a tiny apartment in Ohio. Today, FlowersFromFatima has become an international business. Each of Fatima’s fabulous hair adornments (combs, sticks, clips, head bands, bridal veils, and more) is fashioned with the love and devotion to detail that embody her Father’s spirit. They are quite simply the most beautiful things you can do for your hair.

And lest you think that you must have long hair to wear a flower, think again!

This picture of my Mother, Isabelle, was taken in the early 1930s when she was a highly sought after model.

The color version of this lipstick ad has long since been lost, but she kept the black and white shot in her portfolio.

My Mother’s innate sense of style was obvious even then. The addition of the flower was her idea.

Wear a beautiful flower from Fatima in your hair to your next Holiday party and be ready to start some buzz.

“Who is that woman with the flower in her hair? What style and grace! Do you know her?”

The Pleasures of the Table

2011-11-28T20:06:00.004-05:00

The French writer Colette, a renowned epicure, once said that sitting down at table was like “un rendez-vous d’amour et d’amitié” – a rendez-vous with love and friendship.

I have always believed that when all is said and done, the most passionate and enduring relationship in the life of a French man or woman is his/her love affair with food.

For me, cooking for those I love is a natural expression of that love. “How do I love thee?” Let me cook for you and you will see, smell and taste how much I love thee.

There was a time when I hosted elaborate dinner parties on a regular basis. I regret to say that over the years my dinner parties have dwindled to a precious few in number as fewer and fewer of my friends can find the time or the inclination to sit down at table for “un rendez-vous d’amour et d’amitié.”

We get together at restaurants for dinner from time to time, but it’s just not the same.

It’s not just the lack of time which has cast a pall over the pleasures of the table.

While the best of French cuisine can be successfully recreated in world-class American restaurants across the country, what is harder to recreate is the love affair with food that gets lost in translation.

Sadly, the American relationship with food has become increasingly dysfunctional. It has, in fact, become a love-hate affair.

“If you eat this, you’ll live to be 100. Who cares what it tastes like??!!”

“If you eat that, your arteries will clog up and you’ll die.”

“If you eat this, you’ll never get cancer.”

“If you eat that, you’ll get fat.”

The mantra of the American diner has become, “If it tastes good it must be bad; if it tastes bad it must be good.”

Now, I ask you, is that a recipe for romance?

This past Thursday, as happens once a year every year, women across America spent hours in their kitchens preparing to show those they love just how much they love them.

At Thanksgiving Dinners all across the country, families and cherished friends sat down together and each in turn, from the youngest to the oldest, was asked the traditional question on this national day of gratitude, “What are you thankful for?”

On Thanksgiving day every year Americans come the closest to sharing the French love affair with food, and for that my French-American soul is truly thankful.

All table settings courtesy of Hermès.

Secrets of the Little Black Dress

2011-11-11T23:17:00.003-05:00

Well, Ladies, ready or not, here they come……………THE HOLIDAYS!!! So, before the madness sets in, no time like the present to take a quick inventory of your closet and see whether or not it can get you through the holiday party season with style.

In fact, now is the time to hunt up that little black dress that’s been waiting oh-so-patiently in the back of your closet for you to remember just how much you love her. And why do we love our LBD? Because no matter our size or our age, she always makes us look perfect.

I know, I know, I can hear your groans of boredom (“the LBD…yadda, yadda, yadda, excuse me while I stifle a yawn!!), but bear with me and I will reveal some of the secrets of the LBD that might just make you re-think this classic essential of the well-dressed woman’s wardrobe.

No discussion of the Little Black Dress can begin without at least a quick genuflection in the direction of the tiny Frenchwoman who invented it, Gabrielle Chanel (1883-1971). Known to the world as Coco, those who worked for her during her lifetime and who work for the house of Chanel to this day refer to her in hushed tones as “Mademoiselle,” in case she is listening. She started by designing hats, but soon launched her own clothing line inspired by the clothes worn by her wealthy lovers, her first financial backers. She adored the simple, clean lines and expert tailoring of men’s garments, and had begun to adapt them to suit her slight frame. As a result, she virtually invented the concept of casual chic, for which every woman owes her a debt of gratitude. And the Little Black Dress would be the final metamorphosis of the black school dress uniform and white collar that she had worn as a student in a Catholic orphanage.

“So, what makes the LBD so special?” you ask, and I am so glad you did. The LBD is so special because, quite simply, she goes everywhere and does everything. She is not just a party animal.

On Friday morning, she goes off to the office in a tweed jacket, cranberry scarf and black d’Orsay pumps; on Saturday afternoon she goes to check out the latest Dada retrospective at the Musée Beaubourg in a denim jacket and red kitten heels; on Saturday evening she meets her very special someone for a romantic dinner at Le Train Bleu in a creamy lace bolero and python pumps; and on Sunday afternoon she takes the train from Paris to the country for lunch with tante Germaine in a cashmere cardigan with antique buttons and grey suede T-straps.

“O.K. You’ve convinced me. So, how do I choose the perfect LBD for me?” you ask, and I am so glad you did. Beyond the fact that the classic LBD is sleeveless, unembellished and beautifully tailored, the secrets to choosing your perfect LBD can be broken down into the following three categories.

The Sheath v. the Shift

The sheath dress is designed to show off the curves of a well-proportioned (bust to hip ratio) small-waisted woman by lightly skimming over those curves. It’s your body proportion that counts here, Ladies, not your size.

It should never be too tight. As my Mother always says, "a dress should be tight enough to show you are a woman but loose enough to show you are a lady."

If you are larger on top (bust) or on the bottom (hip and/or thigh area), choose a sheath with an A-line skirt which floats out over the hip and thigh area, thereby balancing a larger top or camouflaging a larger bottom.

In general, the A-line is the most flattering and forgiving skirt shape a woman can wear, and it looks good on everyone.

The shift dress hangs perfectly straight from the shoulders and works well for women who do not have a well-defined waist or who want to conceal a tummy. The shift dress can also have a slight A-line flair to the skirt.

Neckline and Shoulders
While a small, rounded neckline is the classic LBD neckline, there are many variations from which to choose.

If you have narrow shoulders, a Bateau, or boat, neck, as in the sheath above, is more flattering and the shoulder seam should fall at or slightly beyond your natural shoulder line, thereby creating the illusion of wider shoulders. A small, capped sleeve, as in the shift on the left, can also visually widen narrow shoulders.

If you have wider shoulders and well-toned arms (Lucky You!) show them off with a shoulder seam that stops at the edge of your collar bone, inside your natural shoulder line, or go for a halter neck.

If your face and/or body are round, a square neckline adds a touch of angled geometry to your silhouette and is very elegant. By the same token, a rounded neckline softens an angular face and/or body.

If you are large busted, a V-neck will help to break up the bust line by showing more skin and opening up the décolletage area. The amount of cleavage you show is up to you!

Hem Line
Mademoiselle lived to see the miniskirt of the 60’s era and never missed an opportunity to voice her displeasure at the display of what she considered the least attractive part of a woman’s body – her knees. Mercifully, she did not live to see the return of the miniskirt. While I do not share Mademoiselle’s particular phobia, I do think that the perfect hem length for the LBD is mid-knee or one inch below the knee.

As to the perfect way to accessorize the LBD? I prefer the classic, clean lines of a crystal flute filled with Veuve Clicquot champagne.

And now you know everything you need to know about choosing the perfect Little Black Dress. Well, not quite. There is still one last secret to be revealed.

Since it is as much a concept as it is a dress, the Little Black Dress need not, in fact, be black at all. “Quelle horreur! What is she saying??” you are thinking. When is a Little Black Dress not a Little Black Dress? When it fits like a Little Black Dress but is in a neutral color that might just be more flattering to your skin tone.

While black is definitely slimming, it is not a color which looks good on everyone and can be harsh, particularly as we age. So, why not choose a deep-hued neutral tone that might better complement your coloring – chocolate brown, warm navy or slate grey??!! I own four LBDs – two are black, one is navy blue and the other is a deep hunter green, which does wonders for my red hair and ivory skin.

Or…..what about a fabulous jewel-toned amethyst or emerald green for that special holiday party?

And now you do know everything you need to know about choosing the perfect Little Black Dress, although let’s just keep that last secret between us in case Mademoiselle is listening. No doubt she is having enough trouble coping with the return of ladies’ knees.

My Life in Hats

2011-10-31T17:36:00.003-04:00

While looking over some old photos yesterday I realized that, among other things, I had inherited my Mother’s love of hats. Normally I avoid posting pictures of myself on my Blog; however, I have decided to throw caution to the winds just this once and share with you a few of my favorite hats.

Here I am with my Dad in my favorite Easter hat. The entire outfit, including chapeau, was made by my Mother.

She may have made her career as an opera singer, but I never saw her happier than when she had a needle and thread in her hands. Sadly, I did not inherit her sewing skills.

Incidentally, this is the biggest smile you will ever get out of a Frenchman of my Father’s generation. Can you even imagine a big toothy grin on the face of Charles De Gaulle? Impensable !!

I, on the other hand, clearly had no trouble giving a big, gap-toothed grin on command.

A few years after that photo was taken I had my one and only brush with fame.

Princess Grace of Monaco was to visit her hometown of Philadelphia and a big celebration was planned in her honor.

She would be welcomed by children of every nation wearing their native costumes. I was chosen to represent France and present a bouquet of roses to Her Serene Highness.

My picture appeared in the paper (I’m on the right) wearing the traditional headdress of the Alsacian woman. The huge black bow, courtesy of my Aunt in Alsace, was made of heavy satin with wires inserted to keep its shape. Wide ribbons ran down the back to my waist. The whole thing weighed a ton and needed an alarming number of bobby pins to stay on my little head.

When the big day finally arrived, we waited for what seemed like hours on a platform in the middle of Convention Hall. Their Serene Highnesses were running very late.

Suddenly the band began to play “True Love,” Grace’s theme song from her movie “High Society.” I turned to see this gorgeous woman float onto the platform. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Believe me when I say that no picture, moving or still, can ever do her justice. I barely took notice of the short man at her side, Prince Rainier.

The Mayor gave a welcoming speech, Princess Grace said a few words, the band struck up her theme once again and before I could even get the words “Votre Sérénissime Altesse” out of my mouth, off she went in a rustle of perfumed silk. In the interest of time, they had cut my part. I was devastated. I came so close…

Fast forward about 10 years to my summer of Gidget and Moondoggie.

My Moondoggie looked nothing like James Darren. He was a lifeguard on the beach at Atlantic City and he looked just like Brian Wilson of the Beachboys.

I had such a mad crush on him. This was his black fedora. He would wear it to shade his eyes while scanning the horizon. God he was hot!!

I got over the crush by fall, but I never got over my love for black fedoras.

Some loves are well worth hanging on to.

The blushing bride on her wedding day. Of course, there was no question as to who would make my wedding ensemble. It may have been my design but it was entirely my Mother’s creation. As soon as the lace arrived from Alençon courtesy of my Aunt in Normandy, my Mother set to work. Through the heat of a stifling summer, day after day in a small sewing room at the top of the stairs my Mother handsewed each bead and seed pearl into place on my beautiful Juliet cap. And somehow she even managed to find the time to whip up her own dress for the occasion.

And, of course, every woman wants to be Queen for a day.

This was the day I found the Fève in my piece of the galette des rois. In France, Epiphany, the Feast of the Three Kings, is celebrated every January 6th with the entire family.

The traditional cake at the end of the meal contains a small charm or Fève and the person finding it in his or her piece of cake is the King or Queen for the day.

Note that this comes at the end of a meal of many courses accompanied by many wines, hence the slightly jaunty (some might say crooked) angle of Her Majesty’s Crown.

And while we’re on the subject of royalty, I think I may have been having a bit of a Queen Mum moment with this hat.

This is the sort of style she always wore -- brim swept back with a flourish of feathers, fur, ribbons or lace on the right side.

The only thing missing is that wonderful royal wave of the hand and a handsome young footman in a black fedora to bring me my G&T.

Yes, I think I could definitely get used to that.

Well, folks, looks like we’ve come to the end of our tale and our trail.

And after a long hard day of rustlin’, ropin’, ridin’ and reminiscin’ there’s nothin’ like headin’ to the ol’ bunkhouse for some hearty victuals and a few swigs of Ol’ Red Eye, as in Cabernet Sauvignon.

Aaaah. There, that’s better.

Gosh, I hope I had a really good reason for wearing this hat??!!

Conversation with Carrie - Why Is This So Hard?

2011-10-19T15:32:00.001-04:00

Carrie (not her real name) arrives right on time for her appointment. She is a bright and pretty 30-something who has just been promoted to a prestigious position in her Company and my job is essentially to help her update, upgrade and polish her professional image.

As I spend some time getting to know her I quickly learn that while her career is on the fast track to success, somewhere along the line Carrie’s personal life has run off the rails. In and out of relationships since college, she has just ended an engagement with a man who, by her own admission, she should never have considered marrying in the first place.

“Isn’t there anything out there,” she asks, “between the beer-swilling gamer who lives in his parents’ basement and the moody metrosexual who uses up my La Mer cream? Is that my only choice? Why is this so hard?” Why, indeed!

Most of the women I work with come to me during a period of transition in their professional or personal lives. Sometimes these transitions are exciting and wonderful and sometimes they are difficult and anxiety producing, so I often function as Mother Confessor as well as Image and Style Coach; I always keep a box of tissues handy. Increasingly I am seeing clients like Carrie, young women who are all wondering the same things…………………..

Was it always like this?

Why is this so hard?

Is it them?

Is it me?

The lessons learned while growing up in a neighborhood of rough and tumble little boys would come in handy when those once rough and tumble little boys began ringing my doorbell not to come out and play but to take me out to dinner. We knew what the rules were in those days, which doesn’t mean we didn’t break them. Still, the rules were there if we needed them. “I’m just not that kind of girl!” could be used when appropriate and most men respected it. Sounds laughably old-fashioned now to modern ears, even to mine; however, along with those outdated rules were the clearly defined male/female roles that went with them. The rules are gone; and the roles are gone.

While the rewards have been numerous, the price paid appears to be confusion. Today, young men and women don’t seem to know how to relate to each other; nor do they seem to have a clear idea of what it is they really want from each other.

A wise man once said that a woman marries a man hoping he’ll change, and a man marries a woman hoping she won’t. As the prison warden says to Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke, “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.”

Or is it a failure of expectations?

Working with Carrie is a delight, and as we are going over my list of wardrobe basics, the must-have items that should be in every well-dressed woman’s closet, she suddenly laughs and says, “Do you also have a list of basics for Mr. Right?”

The amount of literature and internet sites devoted exclusively to helping men and women find each other, understand each other and live happily ever after is staggering.

Just this month, Madame Figaro interviewed a handful of 40-something Frenchmen for their take on Ce que Veulent les Hommes (What do Men Want). Their responses were interesting but hardly groundbreaking. Men have pretty much always wanted the same thing from women. If they get it, they’re happy, if they don’t, they’re not……nothing new here…….and that only confirms my admittedly unscientific theory based entirely on my own observations – women have declared the old rules null and void and are not sure whether or not to replace them and, if so, with what? As a result, both men and women are wandering around in a state of confusion.

In traditional western societies men were the makers of law, while women were the guardians of the culture. As such guardians, men took their cues from the women in their lives when it came to social interactions.

Maybe it’s time for young women to figure out exactly what it is they really want from men. Sit down and make a list of the things that are really important to you in a man. There isn’t a woman alive, myself included, who can resist the desire to make a few improvements here and there to a potential mate. Just keep this in mind…..it’s easier to fix clothing flaws than it is to fix character flaws.

The holidays will be here before you know it.

Along with your gift list, maybe you should make an even more important list and check it twice!

You never know.

Santa might just have something extra special in his sleigh for you this Christmas.

The Bedroom Beauty Bar

2011-10-03T22:46:00.003-04:00

We have the French to thank for the word entrepreneur. Unfortunately, we also have them to thank for the word bureaucratie, one of the two major killers of the entrepreneurial spirit, the other being the frivolous lawsuit, for which we have only ourselves and our legal system to blame hélas!

You’ve all heard the stories -- a little girl’s lemonade stand set up on her front lawn to raise money for pediatric cancer is shut down by the police because she needs a business license, peddler’s permit and food permit to operate, even on her own property.

The blizzard of government regulations that have blanketed businesses in just the last few years alone have many small business owners wondering if the American dream of owning your own business is still worth pursuing, let alone possible to achieve.

Is that “can do,” “where there’s a will there’s a way” entrepreneurial American spirit really in danger of becoming one more item on the list of “Things That Aren’t There Anymore?”

According to an article in the WSJ “Mixing Makeup for the Webcam” the next generation of budding beauty entrepreneurs, à la Estée Lauder, can be found right now in the bedrooms of America’s teen-aged girls.

In pink-and-white bedrooms across the country an array of beauty products competes for space with lacy pillows and stuffed animals as these self-proclaimed beauty gurus demonstrate for friends and increasing numbers of fans via webcam how to mix your own makeup and skin care products and custom blend colors that are just right for you.

Call me as “corny as Kansas in August,” but this makes my heart sing with “can do” optimism. These young girls are stepping up to the realities of tough economic times and saying, “Hey, I don’t need to spend a fortune on makeup to look my best. I can do it myself and for a lot less, thank you very much. Just watch me!” And their young fans are watching them by the thousands. I have always believed that not following directions can take you to much more interesting places. Just because it says a product is for “this” doesn’t mean it can’t be used for “that,” n’est-ce pas? Yes, Pa.” And I say, “You Go, Girls!”

Estée’s uncle was a chemist who specialized in beauty products and fragrances for women.

Drawn to his business, after graduating from high school she devoted herself entirely to Uncle John’s business. Her flair not only for naming products (e.g., Super Rich All-Purpose Cream and Dr. Schotz Viennese Cream), but for marketing and selling them to beauty salons and shops was so successful that she soon secured valuable counter space at one of New York’s most prestigious department stores, Saks Fifth Avenue.

It was at Saks that she would perfect the personal, hands-on style of selling that would make her an American success story. And with the introduction of her most popular fragrance, Youth Dew, a bath oil and perfume in one bottle, her international reputation was secured.

Could Estée Lauder have created her wildly successful and enduring international beauty empire with the same indefatigable energy, enthusiasm, intelligence, audacity and sublime chutzpah inherited from her Jewish immigrant parents if she had to do it all today? If I were a betting woman, and I’m not, I’d put all my chips on Uncle John’s niece.

There’s something in the American soil that makes us keep on trying and keep on hoping. It may lie fallow for a generation or so, but eventually that soil brings forth fruit and a new generation of budding entrepreneurs begins to bloom. Tomorrow’s Estée Lauder may be today’s teenager mixing up a pot of lip gloss in her pink-and-white bedroom. Only time will tell.

Pump Up the Volume of Your Style in a Neutral Pump

2011-09-28T16:49:00.003-04:00

Ever since Kate walked down the airport steps at LAX last July in a fetching pair of pointed-toe neutral pumps, the fashion world has started singing the praises of this quiet classic, and, although they may be late to the party, I say come on in, boys and girls, and kick off your shoes; it’s time to pump up the volume and pay tribute to one of the most flattering shoes a woman can wear.

Why? Well……………..

First, the neutral color visually extends the line of your leg, particularly with a pointed toe (and who doesn’t want to lengthen the look of her legs??);

Second, the nude/neutral color adds a naughty element to this nicest of lady-like styles; and

Third, it goes with absolutely everything.

Need I say more?

Here are a few of my quick picks for this season.

The Buffy heel in beige from Coach ($198) illustrates why the neutral pump is always in the running for Best Supporting Actress in any woman’s wardrobe.

Slip your tootsies into this stunning little number with its stacked leather platform and stiletto heel and you are instantly the Star of any show.

And that little stud detail on the heel gives it an unexpectedly sexy edge. This shoe is guaranteed to bring strong men to their knees with every step you take.

This crisscrossed peep toe pump, the Sashay, from Stuart Weitzman ($298) will add an oh-so-lady-like touch to any outfit you wear from skinny jeans to pencil skirt to your sexiest LBD.

And a dab of flame red on the toes will add a dash of movie star vixen to this flirty and feminine shoe.

Thinking of investing some of your capital in gold? At $50, this gold Anne Klein Pinchins pump won’t put even the smallest dent in your net worth, although the snakeskin texture will have everyone convinced it did.

The moderate heel height and cushioned foot-bed will have you running from high-powered meeting to high-powered meeting in total comfort.

And, do you remember that I said bows are really hot for fall?

Nine West’s Flax shoe ($60) comes in a variety of colors, but this deep honey is a real honey of a color in my book,

This sophisticated shoe is an inexpensive example of the classic pointed toe pump that you will wear for years to come, because no matter what you are wearing with it, it always looks so right.

If after all this you find you still need a little color in your fall shoe wardrobe, I totally understand.

May I recommend RSVP’s Rossana ($49) in burgundy (this season’s hot color!) patent?

This should be enough to punch up anything you can throw at it.

Think of it as a fall neutral and you can’t go wrong.

Now, aren’t you ready to pump up the volume of your style this fall with a great neutral pump? I know I am; in fact, I think I feel the urge for a power walk coming on…………I’ll have to get back to you on that.

Fall Fashion Flash 2011 – Part 2

2011-09-14T23:41:00.003-04:00

In my August post Fall Sneak Peak - And It’s One More Time, Again! I talked about the return of retro (isn’t that redundant?) and bows, ruffles and fringe on blouses and shoes for fall.

In Fall Fashion Flash 2011 - Part 1 I talked about this fall’s hot color, Bordeaux/Burgundy, the return of the skirt, the importance of the LBS (Little Black Skirt) and how to put a great outfit together for fall.

Now that we’ve put that great outfit together, what do we put over it when those fall breezes begin to nip?

This handsome L.L. Bean Cotton linen field coat (left) from their Signature collection has a cozy flannel lining and roomy fit. I just love the chamois detailing at the top and the vintage feel to it. Almost makes me want to grab my skeet rifle and yell “pull !” My guess is, though, that this will become your favorite run-around town, weekend jacket. And at $175, it’s definitely good value for money.

This great Jessica London military trench (right) is ONLY available in sizes 12-28. Eat your hearts out, all you Skinny Minis out there. Oh, wait….I forgot…..you don’t eat! This classic trench is designed to flatter you lucky ladies with curves, with its adjustable drawstring at the waist. The hood collar is detachable, it’s fully lined, and it’s machine washable……..don’t we love that? And, here’s the best part………..it’s under $100………..don’t we really love that !!

This swingy AB Studio double-breasted cape (Left) is vintage Boho meets city chic with its stand-up collar, epaulets and front button opening, which makes it easy on and easy off. It comes in black, is machine washable (love it!) and it’s available at Kohls for under $50. Are you in love yet?

O.K., I confess. I really, really have fallen in love with this Trina Turk Pan-am cropped coat (Right). Naturally, it’s the most expensive of the group at $398 and it’s the least practical in terms of how often you can wear it (it will get noticed and it will get remembered). Still, it is just so deliciously 60s retro with its ¾ sleeves, bold plaid (oh look, there’s this fall’s hot color, Burgundy, in there!) and big buttons.

It would definitely be perfect over an LBD or an LBS and/or black tights or your favorite skinny jeans. And wouldn’t this be a perfect time to pull out those vintage black leather opera gloves hiding in the back of your dresser drawer? Perfect. (sigh!) Available through Amazon.

You’ll see lots of slouchy, large-brimmed hats in the stores this fall. The French call them capelines and they are the perfect way to add a bit of je ne sais quoi to any outfit.

I admit to a real weakness for this most feminine of headgear, but it’s true that you do need a certain attitude or hauteur to wear them properly, and you also need lots of head room in your car.

If you spend your life being driven from point A to point B in a Rolls Royce Phantom, which is designed to chauffeur ladies who sip champagne and wear extravagant hats, then by all means these are definitely the chapeaux for you.

If, however, you spend your life in and out of your Mini Cooper, running errands, picking up the kids from school and juggling bags of groceries, the rabbit felt fedora on the left or the cute little cloche (an absolute steal for $17 at Old Navy!) on the right might be more your style.

Lest you think I am being entirely too conservative and practical in my fashion picks this fall, allow me to shake things up a bit with – les socquettes.

Call me crazy, but I think they are oh-so-cute on the right woman (very young to youngish) with the right legs (long and lean). And peaking over the top of a pair of booties, they just look so chic.

You will be relieved to know, however, that this is a fashion statement I am not personally prepared to make.

Well, there you have it, Ladies. I’ll be in touch soon with my impressions and thoughts on Fall Fashion Week in New York. In the meantime, just thought you’d like a quick update on my burgundy pencil skirt………….it still fits!! Benjamin Franklin was right; God does want to see us happy. Cheers!

Fall Fashion Flash 2011 – Part 1

2011-09-12T18:52:00.003-04:00

It’s fall Fashion mid-week in New York and everything and everyone has shifted into high gear. As for me, I am keeping a respectful distance while maintaining a watchful eye on the proceedings. More on that plus tard when all and sundry have folded their tents and the dust has settled.

In the meantime, while we wait for the weather to switch gears from summer to autumn, here’s a heads up on what you’ll be seeing on the streets of New York and Paris this fall.

This season’s hot color is Bordeaux if you’re French, and Burgundy if you’re American. Oddly enough, while the Bordeaux region of France is indeed famous for its reds, the Burgundy region is famous for its whites.

Hmmm. I’m just sayin’. Anyway……….

Burgundy comes straight from the cool color palette of winter and looks best on you Summer and Winter gals with pink and rosy undertones to your skin.

Does that mean that those of us who look best in the warm shades of spring and autumn should risk the ostracism of our fashion forward friends by avoiding Burgundy altogether (the color not the wine)?

Absolutely not! You may now breathe a sigh of relief.

For you Spring and Autumn gals (I’m a classic Autumn) who look best in warm colors, the trick to wearing cooler colors is placement. In other words, where you wear it is what counts.

The colors in your color palette, your most flattering, should be worn closest to your face: tops, scarves, earrings, necklaces and hats. Colors not in your color palette should be worn away from your face: skirts, trousers, bracelets, shoes and handbags.

Here are some examples of how to do it.

The young lady on the left wears a blouse in a multi-colored print of cool and warm shades with cool Burgundy being a dominant color. The green fedora picks up the warm green in the blouse creating a warm frame around her face.

The young lady next to her has added her touch of cool Burgundy in her tights, and should she opt to pull all her warm and cool colors together with a unifying accessory, she could drape this triple print scarf from Zara around her neck. Get the idea? Go ahead and have fun with this season’s hot color, cool Burgundy; just be careful where you put it.

By the way, have you noticed what all these young ladies are wearing? This season it’s all about separates. Remember the return of the bow blouse in my previous post? Well, what goes better with a great blouse than a great skirt, this fall’s most important must-have item.

And, on the list of essentials in any well-dressed woman’s wardrobe right next to the LBD should be the LBS, the Little Black Skirt.

These adorable Little Black Skirts are all available at Zara for well under $100, which makes them not only adorable but “chiconomic.”

The classic A-line on the left with the zipper detail is flattering on absolutely everyone and will quickly become your favorite go-to piece.

The versatile panel skirt on the right is figure forgiving for those who need a little forgiveness, especially in the tummy area.

And every gal needs a great black leather skirt in her repertoire for those moments when she’s feeling sexy and sassy.

And, this, Ladies, is how you put together a great head to toe look for fall ------

Start with a classic grey wool skirt;

Top it with a burgundy wrap leather jacket;

Add black tights and a trendy pair of black-and-white spectator booties.

Then, top the whole ensemble off with a black vintage cloche hat with a magenta ribbon that gives a great pop of color near your face.

Et voilà! -- Casual chic at its most charming. These pieces are available at H&M.

What makes this outfit work so beautifully is the harmonious use of cool colors and the mix of materials and textures which creates visual interest and movement.

All this has inspired me to take out my burgundy wool pencil skirt from several seasons ago and see if it still fits. But first, I’ll pour myself a glass of Bordeaux. I will either be drinking in celebration or as consolation.

Either way, I agree with Benjamin Franklin who said, “Wine is constant proof that God loves us and wants to see us happy.” And if God wants to see me really happy, my burgundy pencil skirt will still fit.

Isabelle’s Curls and How I Learned to Love Them

2011-09-05T00:04:00.001-04:00

I stood up in my crib at 6 months, walked at 11 months and by 12 months was running around the house giving my Mother a massive case of the New Mom Jitters. I did everything early, except grow hair.

Then, suddenly, at about 18 months of age the fuzz on my head was replaced by strawberry blonde, Shirley Temple ringlets to the delight of my Mother and Grandmother, both of whom had poker straight hair.

Finally, after having skipped two generations, there was a little girl in the family who had Isabelle’s curls.

My Great-Grandmother Isabelle was 12 years old when this portrait was painted in 1865, the year General Lee surrendered to General Grant at Appomattox, thus ending the American Civil War. The portrait hangs in my bedroom next to my dresser and the coral and gold necklace around her neck sits in a velvet pouch in my jewelry case.

She is holding a bouquet of pink roses and wearing a white satin dress with blue ribbons on the sleeves. A matching blue ribbon holds back a beautiful head of chestnut curls – Isabelle’s curls.

Her favorite brother, Willie, left home at 17 to fight in the Union Army and was never seen or heard from again.

Her Mother, Rosetta, spent a good deal of the war nursing wounded Union soldiers. Unbeknownst to Rosetta, one of those dying young men was infected with Small Pox, a deadly, disfiguring disease which spread like wildfire through Confederate and Union troops alike.

It swept through Isabelle’s entire family. Miraculously, she survived with only a tiny scar on her forehead to remind her of the horror through which she had passed. The high fevers had made her beautiful hair fall out, but a year later when this portrait was painted, her curls had already grown back well past her shoulders.

I never thought much about Isabelle’s legacy to me until the 1960s. Almost overnight curly hair became horribly unfashionable. Whether long and parted in the middle or short and cut in angles, hair had to be straight, straight, straight, and my hair was not, not, not! So, I declared war on my curls and my weapons of choice were juice cans and the steam iron.

Like so many of my curly-haired sisters, we grew it long and set it in huge rollers or juice cans. And if that didn’t work, there was always the steam iron. You’d lay your hair out flat, put a dishcloth over it and then iron the cloth. It was essential to have a trusted girlfriend help you with this, preferably one whose boyfriend you hadn’t flirted with the night before or you might end up as a burnt offering.

By the ‘70s it had become clear that I was on the losing side of my private civil war and so, as General Robert E. Lee had manfully surrendered his sword to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox in 1865, I surrendered my juice cans and steam iron as spoils of war.

But, by the 1980s big hair and curls were back – bigger and better than ever! True to the battle cry of the South, the curl had risen again!!

This was my decade and I luxuriated in it. All I had to do was stick a diffuser on the end of my blow dryer, point and fire and there was no end to how big my hair could get.

I defied rain and laughed in the face of humidity. Ha! Ha! Bring it on, you fools!! You only make my hair bigger!!

I love you, Great-Grandmother Isabelle!

Unfortunately, the party didn’t last, which is one of the defining qualities of a party. It starts, you drink too much champagne, it ends, you find your shoes and go home.

And so, I went home.

There was a little something for everyone in the 1990s, but without a doubt, it was the decade of all things Rachel, as in Jennifer Aniston and the iconic Rachel layered cut. By the end of the decade, advances in styling products, blow dryers and flat irons had enabled my hairdresser to give me a reasonable facsimile of the Rachel bob. I was delighted, although………the rain I had defied and the humidity I had laughed at in the 1980s would and did have their revenge whenever they felt like it.

A year ago my hairdresser introduced me to a line of hair care products which have made me fall in love with my curls all over again. Deva-Curl products are specially made for curly hair. Curly hair is more fragile, should be washed less frequently and needs extra moisture. In effect, it needs special handling and special products.

The Deva-Curl products are sulfate and phosphate free and safe for color-treated hair. They leave my hair with healthy, shiny, no-frizz curls. If you have curly hair and want to stay natural, Deva-Curl products are absolutely the way to go.

Believe me. I wouldn’t trust Isabelle’s curls to anything less.

Grab the Cats and the Kelly and Go!

2011-08-29T23:19:00.001-04:00

Well, by the time she reached us, the full-blown fury of Hurricane Irene turned out to be just a two-year old throwing a temper tantrum, thank Heaven; nevertheless, I always like to be prepared, and I was. By that I mean I had prepared a survival kit containing everything a woman needs to look her best while braving a disaster of the natural or unnatural variety.

My survival kit included Q-tips, cotton balls, safety pins, lingerie, tinted moisturizer, concealer, lip gloss and Deva Curl Mist-er Right revitalizing spray in case, among other indignities, I had to face a case of the frizzies.

My husband left the office early and was just getting home as I assembled survival kit, cat carriers and a large black plastic bag in the foyer waiting for the signal to Grab-n-Go. He looked at the plastic bag and said, “Is that what I think it is?”

Indeed it was. That plastic trash bag contained precious cargo. Inside, nestled in its brown velvet, drawstring pouch in its original orange box was my black pebbled leather 28 cm. Kelly bag with brushed silver hardware.

Moments of crisis often force you to make cold, clear-eyed choices, and I had made mine. I would leave behind my entire collection of Hermès jewelry, accessories and scarves, but, come hell or high water, the Kelly was coming with me.

My mind travelled back more than 25 years to a blustery night in December. A blizzard had knocked out the power lines and I was wearing two heavy sweaters to keep warm, wrapping Christmas presents by candlelight and singing “Jingle Bells” softly to myself when the phone rang. My husband was calling from the office. There were no cell phones in those days.

“I’m leaving the office now. Can you be ready in 10 minutes? We have to get up to King of Prussia a.s.a.p.” King of Prussia was at least an hour and a half away from our house on a clear night with no traffic.

“Are you crazy? It’s Friday night before Christmas. The traffic will be horrendous!”

“Don’t worry, nobody’s crazy enough to be on the road in this blizzard.”

“So, why are we risking life and limb to get to King of Prussia?”

“Well, Gisèle called and your new Kelly bag is in.”

“What??? My Kelly Bag? Wait…wait…who’s Gisèle?”

“I’ll explain everything in the car on the way up.”

As we drove through the snow storm, he told me the whole story.

Several years earlier while in Paris we had stopped at Hermès on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré for some of my favorite perfume, “Rouge.”

In the display case way above my head and far, far out of reach in every way was a gorgeous Kelly bag in royal blue crocodile.

Whatever I said about it, and I honestly do not remember what it was, it set my husband on a three-year odyssey through the idiosyncratic labyrinth of the world’s most luxurious of all Houses of luxury handbags, Hermès.

Along the way, he would endure shocks, insults and obstacles sufficient to dampen the fervor of most men, but my husband is not most men. He was a man on a mission.

The first thing he did upon our return stateside was to call Hermès in Manhattan. When he asked the officious Frenchman on the other end of the line the price of a Kelly bag, he received his first shock. Upon recovering from the shock of the price, he pulled himself together and said, “Well, I’d like to order a Kelly bag for my wife.” The stunned salesman replied, “Non, non, non, non, non, Monsieur, you do not ‘order’ a Kelly bag, you ‘await’ a Kelly bag. They are made, they are shipped, you wait. Et voilà!”

For an entire year my husband repeatedly called New York, Paris and Los Angeles, always with the same result. They would not even deign to put his name on the waiting list.

Then one day, while on business in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, he found a tiny Hermès boutique in the shopping mall. He thought he’d give it another go.

A saleswoman named Gisèle was behind the counter that day, and he told her the whole sad story. She took pity on him.

“How tall is your wife, Monsieur?” she asked. He told her. “And how much does she weigh?” she asked. He told her.

“Eh bien,” she said, “the 28 cm Kelly will be a perfect fit for her. We don’t receive many in that size, but I will put your name on the list et on verra.”

Two years later, on the Friday before Christmas, Gisèle called my husband at the office. Because of the blizzard she was unable to reach the three names ahead of ours on the list. So, if we could make it to the store before closing, the Kelly bag was ours.

I don’t know what it is about my Kelly bag that makes me love it so – maybe it’s the story of how I got it – maybe it’s that it’s so classic and goes with everything – maybe it’s that it’s now worth more than twice what we paid for it.

Or maybe it’s just that I own a piece of French culture that is timeless – its roots firmly in the past, giving vitality to the present and life to the future. That is the essence of the house of Hermès.

Whatever it is, I knew for certain that I wasn’t going to let that Bitch Irene come anywhere near my Kelly.

Fall Sneak Peak – And It’s One More Time, Again!

2011-08-06T19:11:00.004-04:00

I know, I know….the weather is still stiflingly hot and all you want to do is sit back and sip your frosty Margarita, but I just thought I’d give you a little sneak peak at what to expect for fall. I promise; this won’t take long.

We will be seeing lots of Retro chic circa the 70s. O.K., O.K., I can see you yawning already. Yep, what goes around comes around -- one more time. Yadayadayada. No surprise there. Have another sip.

But look at it this way -- what is just recycled fashion to us looks new and fresh to our children and, dare I say it, to our grandchildren.

And, the good news is that most of the recycled 70s fashions are very classic and very wearable. The bad news is that at our age, Ladies, we have to be careful to avoid head to toe “classic,” as that can easily tip the balance into dowdy.

With that caveat in mind, have another sip and let’s check out a few of my favorites.

Bows, ruffles and fringe once again take center stage. It’s a lovely, feminine look that can take you from day to evening with a few tweaks.

The bow blouse is truly a classic and, like all classics, has staying power, or should I say “come back” power, as it has a habit of popping back on the fashion runways periodically.

I always keep a few in my closet in silky prints and solids that I take out every time the bow blouse gets “rediscovered.”

The blouse on the left is a perfect choice for those of you gals with ample bosoms. Note the solid color, the deep “V” which opens up the décolletage area, and the low set, small bow.

The blouse on the right is more flattering to those of you with smaller chests. Note the bold print, high neck and larger ruffled bow near the neckline and over the bust area, which will make a small bust look larger.

Both blouses are available at Nordstrom for around $60.

In keeping with the retro fringe and bow theme, both of these platform shoes could have been worn by any of us baby boomers in the 70s, assuming, of course, we could have afforded them, which most of us couldn’t.

I know I couldn’t. I was a struggling university student at the beginning of the decade and a married woman struggling with a mortgage at the end of it.

The YSL sling back in khaki suede (on the Left) positively makes my mouth water (yummm!!) and my arches ache just to look at it. This gorgeous little number, called “Tribute,” will set you back about a cool $1,000.

The Ferragamo peep toed pump in grey suede (on the Right) with that flirty little bow is utterly irresistible. I want to scoop it up and take it home with me RIGHT NOW!! The “Grazia” will only set you back about $500. At that price, I’ll have one in every color. Well, O.K., but I can dream, can’t I?

Perhaps the most surprising element of the 70s revival trend, at least to me, was not so much what we will be wearing, but where most of us will be buying it.

According to a recent article in The Wall Street Journal, Department Stores where we shopped as kids and young adults during the 70s are becoming cool again.

20-somethings and 30-somethings are abandoning specialty stores and boutiques in favor of Macy’s, Nordstrom and good old JC Penney's, and the Department Stores are responding accordingly.

Because of the size, scope and variety of merchandise they can offer, including their own in-house lines, they have the ability and the flexibility to pivot on a dime to satisfy their customer, and their bottom lines are beginning to reflect this. This is definitely a trend worth tracking. I’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime, sit back, relax, cool your heels and have another sip!

Aaaaah! That's better.

Give Your Makeup the Brush - Eyes and Lips

2011-08-05T20:12:00.001-04:00

In my Post earlier this month, “Give Your Make-up the Brush!”, I introduced you to my Grandfather George, an actor turned make-up artist, and we discussed how to choose the best make-up brushes for your face.

Today, we’ll talk about choosing the best make-up brushes for your eyes and lips.

But first, a quick review.

There are basically three types of make-up brushes:

1) Natural bristle;
2) Synthetic bristle; and
3) A combination of natural and synthetic bristles.

Have I lost you yet? Hope not, because here’s where it all gets demystified.

1) Natural bristle brushes work best with powdered make-up (face powders and blushes and eye shadows);

2) Synthetic bristle brushes work best with creamy make-up (concealers, cream blushes, liquid foundations and cream eye shadows); and

3) Combination bristles work best with liquid make-up (foundation).

O.K.. here goes…..

This is Laura Mercier’s Angled Eye Color Brush. It is a natural bristle brush and, hands down, the best eye color brush I’ve ever used.

The flat part of the brush makes overall application and blending a snap and the angled area is ideal for contouring the crease area of your eye and/or for running a smudge of color along your lash line.

If you only own one eye color brush, this is the one to buy.

You simply cannot go wrong with this brush in your make-up kit.

The Flat Eye Liner Brush on the Left by Laura Mercier is a synthetic brush with narrow, stiff bristles which allows you to create a very thin line of color right along the lash line.

The Pointed Eye Liner Brush on the Right by Laura Mercier is also a synthetic brush with stiff bristles that taper to a point which allows you to control the width of your line based on the amount of pressure you apply to the point. You can also add tiny dots of color in between your lashes for a more natural look.

I own both of these brushes. They work best with cake eye liner (moisten first) and the Pointed Eye Liner Brush is the perfect way to apply Bobbi Brown’s Gel Eye Liner, the best gel eye liner in the business (doesn’t smudge, lasts all day!!).

Quick tip: Keep a Q-tip handy to smudge liner into your lash line for a natural look and to remove any unwanted smudges or mistakes.

This Brow Definer Brush from Laura Mercier is a synthetic brush whose flat, stiff bristles work well with powdered or gel brow color and the angle allows you to perfectly define your brow.

Laura makes several angled brow brushes in different sizes, but this is my favorite. It’s just the right size to fill in my brows where needed and, let’s face it, Ladies, after a certain age, our brows begin to thin and fade and, like our eyes, need special attention.

Don’t overlook them. Remember, great eyebrows make the perfect frame for your beautiful eyes.

Some make-up professionals prefer a natural bristle lip brush, but I love this synthetic bristle Lip Brush from MAC.

Its slightly rounded tip creates a nice, clean outline, and it’s large enough to fill in perfectly with color.

When it comes to choosing the right brush for your lips, it’s definitely your call.

Here are a few final thoughts on the subject of make-up brushes.

 Your biggest investment should be in natural bristle brushes. If you take care of them (i.e., wash and dry them properly), you will have them forever. I’m still using a Prescriptives powder brush I bought more than 25 years ago.

 When choosing a natural bristle brush, run it over the back of your hand. You should barely feel it. A good quality natural brush will be as soft as a whisper.

 You can definitely skimp on synthetic brushes, as even the expensive ones need to be replaced more frequently than natural brushes.

 Brushes you use every day should be washed once a week in a gentle cleanser (mild shampoo or your facial cleanser) in tepid water. Rinse gently, blot with a towel, reshape and dry flat. If you stand them on end to dry, over time the water will collect in the base of the brush and melt the glue that anchors the brush to the handle.

And there you have it, Ladies. Everything you really need to know about the care and feeding of your make-up’s BFF – the Brush.

Joyeux Quatorze!!!

2011-07-13T17:24:00.001-04:00

Joyeux Quatorze!!

Happy Bastille Day to my family in France and all my French friends wherever they are.

On this date in 1789, an angry mob (is there any other kind?) of Parisians stormed the Bastille prison in the mistaken notion that the Bastille had a stockpile of arms and wheat. It had neither.

When they arrived at this hated symbol of oppression, its only occupants were six well heeled prisoners enjoying a sumptuous, not so petit, petit déjeuner with the Bastille’s commander, the Marquis de Launay.

The mildly surprised Marquis politely invited the mob leaders to join them for breakfast, which they did.

Unfortunately, their fellow citoyens et citoyennes waiting outside grew restless and impatient waiting for their leaders to finish breakfast and decided to take matters into their own hands. As a result, the head of the very gentlemanly Marquis de Launay was paraded through the streets of Paris on a pike. And the rest, as they say, is Histoire.

And so, the next time you are tempted to do the polite thing and invite the leaders of an angry mob to join you for breakfast, may I suggest that you keep your head about you and recommend they try the local diner down the street? Tell them you’ve heard that the brioche is just brilliant.

Wardrobe Got the Blahs? Let The Power of “3” Work Its Magic!

2011-07-12T22:22:00.005-04:00

The link to this piece from 2009 on the Diva Network is no longer active; so.....for those of you who have asked, "Where is the article?" here's a link to my website, where the article was originally published.

Enjoy: Wardrobe Got the Blahs? Let The Power of “3” Work Its Magic!

Give Your Make-up the Brush!

2011-07-06T22:29:00.001-04:00

My Grandfather, George, started out as a stage actor. To all appearances, George had everything going for him. He was tall and slender, had matinee idol good looks, a mellifluous voice, and he moved with grace and self assurance on stage. There was just one teeny, weeny problem. He could never remember his lines. Worse yet, instead of just waiting for the prompter in the wings to throw him the line, he would make one up to the annoyance of the Director and the exasperation of his fellow actors.

Eventually, however, George found his true calling in the theater. He became a very successful make-up artist.

There were five huge steamer trunks in our basement, most of which held my grandparents’ theatrical costumes and my mother’s evening gowns. But one trunk held everything George needed to turn an ordinary actress into a ravishing Desdemona or a handsome young actor into a wizened Richard III.

On hot summer days, my brother and I would sneak down to the basement, delighting in the cool flagstone floor on our bare feet, and open my Grandfather’s magical trunk. The musty odor of spirit gum and Stein’s grease paint would almost knock us over, but we loved it. This was how the theater smelled.

I was very young when George died, but my memories of him are still vivid. When my grandparents went out for a special evening, George always did Marie’s make-up. She wore only Max Factor off stage. I would watch as he chose a particular brush. Some of her brushes he had fashioned himself, trimming here, reshaping there. “You need the right tool for the right job,” he would say. “It’s all in the brush and the stroke.”

My Grandfather would have been delighted at the amazing array of make-up brushes available today on and off the stage, although I have no doubt he would have snipped a bit here and there to suit himself. Still, it’s pretty clear that, like make-up itself, make-up brushes have come a long way, Baby.

So, how do you select the right tool (i.e., brush) for the right job? Well, here are a few things you need to know before you buy a make-up brush.

There are basically three types of make-up brushes:

1) Natural bristle;
2) Synthetic bristle; and
3) A combination of natural and synthetic bristles.

Did I lose you yet? Hope not. Here’s where it all gets demystified.

1) Natural bristle brushes work best with powdered make-up (face powders and blushes and eye shadows);

2) Synthetic bristle brushes work best with creamy make-up (concealers, cream blushes, liquid foundations and cream eye shadows); and

3) Combination bristles work best with liquid make-up (foundation).

Have I lost you yet? Good. Here’s where it all gets useful. These are the make-up brushes you need for your face. (We’ll talk about lips and eyes next time.)

If you wear liquid or cream foundation, this synthetic brush with graduated bristles and an arched top from Sephora works beautifully. The arched top makes it easier to get into all those little nooks and crannies around your eyes, nose and mouth.

Because synthetic bristles do not absorb as much product as natural bristles, you will find that you waste less product than using sponges or fingers and it will go on evenly and without streaking.

And clean up is a breeze.

Smaller versions of this brush are perfect for applying your concealer.

This natural bristle brush with graduated bristles and a rounded top from Laura Mercier is perfect for applying translucent loose powder. If you are wearing foundation or tinted moisturizer, powder is essential for setting your make-up.

Natural bristles are perfect for loose or compact face powder. I dip my brush in the powder, tap on the side and press the powder into my face. Then, I take the clean side and lightly brush it over my face to remove any excess. Voilà! A sheer, light finish.

Here’s something I bet you didn’t know. Moisture is added to loose powder to turn it into pressed compact powder. So, if you have dry skin, you might prefer using pressed powder rather than loose powder. It doesn’t have quite the staying power, but it may look less dry and more dewy on your skin and it’s much easier to carry around for touch ups.

This brush or a smaller version of it also works beautifully for powdered blush.

This Kabuki brush from Sephora, a natural bristle brush, is the perfect way to apply your bronzer for an overall sun-kissed effect.

It also can be used to apply powdered blush.
The denseness of its graduated bristles allows it to pick up a fair amount of color and distribute it over a wide area.

Apply your bronzer with a light touch on areas that would naturally be touched by the sun – forehead, bridge of nose, chin – building color for effect.

A word of caution to those of us with fair skin: too much bronzer can look like dirty smudges on your face. Apply with great care, if at all. Although I love the look on others, I never wear it for that reason.

And so, Ladies, I hope I have helped to shed a little light on the subject of how to choose the right tool for the right job -- the all important job of creating your perfect face.

As my Grandfather George would say, “It’s all in the brush and the stroke.”

Next time – eyes and lips. Stay tuned.

Eeeke!! My Kitchen Smells Like Food!

2011-06-26T15:57:00.001-04:00

It’s Monday morning. The tattooed meter man is walking up the path to my front door. I go down to let him in. No matter the weather, he is always cheerful and polite. He walks in, wipes his feet and says, “Gee, something smells good.” The aroma of last night’s roasted chicken still lingers in the house. I follow him as he makes his way downstairs. He knows the way.

“It reminds me of my Grandmother’s house,” he continues. “It always smelled like cooking. Her English wasn’t too good….she was from Italy….. but she sure could cook.”

I see the wedding ring on his finger and ask a question to which I already know the answer. “Is your wife a good cook?”

He gives a hearty laugh and says, “My wife thinks a home cooked meal comes from a package she nukes in the microwave, cuts open and dumps on the plate.” Obviously feeling a bit guilty at having said that, he quickly adds, “But, you know, she’s busy. She works, too. Can’t live on take-out.”

Just a guess, but I am probably older than the tattooed meter man’s Mother and younger than his Grandmother, which puts me pretty squarely in the last generation of American women who makes home cooked meals on a regular basis.
And that is not a guess.

The young woman who can cook or has any desire to do so today is rare indeed.

Of course, when it comes time for her to buy her first house, she wants nothing less than a state-of-the-art kitchen with professional grade appliances, which she will never use, except for the microwave.

I thought I had heard every excuse imaginable for not cooking (don’t know how, no time, no interest, hate the clean-up), until one night while watching the Food network I heard this little gem. A young woman was planning a brunch with her caterer. She told her caterer that her kitchen was off limits. The caterer was to prepare all food off site because, she said firmly, “I don’t want my house to smell like food.” Huh??

For too many Americans, sitting down to a home cooked dinner is something they see only in old movies on Turner Classic or reruns of The Dick Van Dyke Show.

The concept of mealtime and everything it entails no longer exists for them. They no longer know when, how or what to eat, so they eat whatever whenever and wherever they are at all hours of the day and night.

The American relationship with food has become largely dysfunctional and the results are painfully obvious.

Sadly, not only has this dysfunctional relationship had a deleterious effect on our health, but on our ability to interact successfully on a social level. The family dinner table was not just a place where children traditionally learned table manners, but where they began the process of learning how to interact socially.

The catch phrase “a teachable moment” has become quite popular lately. Everything that happens, good or bad, we are told, has intrinsic value as a teachable moment.

The family dinner is, for me, the perfect teachable moment for a young child.

Other than how to use a knife and fork properly, here is what I learned at the family dinner table as a child.

 Don’t put your elbows on the table;
 Don’t chew with your mouth open;
 Don’t shovel food into your mouth;
 Don’t talk with food in your mouth;
 Don’t interrupt when someone is speaking;
 Think before you speak;
 Don’t slouch; and
 Don’t fidget.

All children start out as little hedonistic savages. It’s up to parents to civilize them for their own good and for that of society. Why not make family dinner a teachable moment for your child?

After all, the first thing Annie Sullivan taught her unruly charge, Helen Keller, was how to sit at table and use a fork.

My Three Make-Up Must-Haves

2011-06-09T16:56:00.004-04:00

When Father Time seduces Mother Nature, we Ladies pay the price. If you are une femme d’un certain âge, you know exactly what I mean every time you look in the mirror.

Fortunately, through the ages, women young and old have known the value of the skillful alliance of art and nature.

As her friends prepare the beautiful young Yum-Yum for her wedding to the wandering minstrel, Nanki-Poo, who is actually the son of the Mikado in disguise, they sing these words:

“Braid the raven hair —
Weave the supple tress —
Deck the maiden fair
In her loveliness —
Paint the pretty face —
Dye the coral lip —
Emphasize the grace
Of her ladyship!
Art and nature, thus allied,
Go to make a pretty bride.
Art and nature, thus allied,
Go to make a pretty bride.”
(“The Mikado” by Gilbert & Sullivan)

Even young Yum-Yum knows that natural beauty only takes a Gal so far and only lasts so long. Sooner or later, most of us turn to the cosmetic counter for a little help in looking our best.

In 1935, Max Factor of Hollywood created a cosmetic sensation when he introduced American women to Pan-Cake make-up.

Max Factor had developed Pan-Cake make-up from its theatrical predecessor, Grease Paint, for Hollywood’s new color films. It gave complete coverage and made stars, such as Judy Garland, look flawless and natural on film.

And for the price of a small, round pan of make-up, the average American woman could look like a glamorous movie star.

Since the days of Max’s Pan-Cake make-up, a dizzying array of skin care products and cosmetics have been launched on the market to the delight of some and the confusion of others.

While we women “of a certain age” do not expect miracles from our make-up, today’s cutting edge cosmetics are better able to deliver what we really do need from a make-up product as we age – subtle enhancement and natural coverage.

The following are the three make-up products I would grab if my house were on fire.

Tinted Moisturizer with SPF 20 by Laura Mercier ($42) - We’ve come a long way, Baby, from Max Factor’s Pan-Cake make-up to today’s lightweight, tinted moisturizers, and this award winning version by Laura Mercier is my absolute favorite.

It comes in an array of colors from Porcelain, the shade I wear, to Mocha. It’s lighter and sheerer than foundation and gives your complexion a healthy, youthful glow which lasts all day.

And the best part? It is simplicity itself to apply. Just use your fingers and see how beautifully and evenly it blends.

The oil-free version is great for summer.

Foundation Primer by Laura Mercier ($30) – As an artist must prime his canvas before applying his paints, so your face needs to be “primed” before applying your tinted moisturizer or foundation.

This lightweight, colorless gel creates a protective layer for your skin allowing your tinted moisturizer or foundation to glide over those tiny lines around your mouth and forehead and stay color-true the entire day.

It also contains antioxidants such as Vitamins A, C and E.

Laura Mercier suggests keeping it in the refrigerator for a refreshing, cooling effect on those hot summer days when you and your skin need a bit of a refresher.

Secret Brightening Powder by Laura Mercier ($22) - This powder looks white in the container, but as soon as you apply it, becomes invisible while adding a subtle brightness to whatever it touches.

I use it under my eyes and around my mouth, wherever I want to minimize a little darkness and add a little brightness. The light reflecting quality of its micronized pigments ensures that it will not settle into fine lines and will brighten any shadowy areas while remaining invisible. I call it my mini-facelift in a jar.

Well, Ladies, there you have it, my Make-Up Must-Have List. How about you?

What make-up products would you grab if your house were on fire?

What products can you absolutely not live without?

Do tell; we’d love to know!!!

Bye Bye Brunnhilde

2011-05-24T18:14:00.000-04:00

It’s Friday night in Manhattan and we are walking up 65th Street on our way to dinner at Daniel. The wind picks up and I wrap my jacket more tightly around me. It would be easy to forget that Manhattan is an island were it not for the wind. It’s no secret that New York is not the cleanest of cities, and those ocean breezes that blast their way between buildings and swirl around street corners carry with them every bit of debris that isn’t nailed down or bagged up -- a brisk reminder of why I don’t eat outside.

A favorite New York joke goes like this – a woman and her son are having lunch at a sidewalk café. The waiter brings the boy a bowl of soup and sets it down in front of him, at which point the woman says, “Hurry up and eat your soup, Dear, before it gets dirty.”

As we reach the entrance to Daniel, a limousine pulls up and stops in front of us. A gorgeous, long-stemmed beauty unfurls her legs and gets out. There is no other word for it. She is quite simply perfect in every way – perfectly dressed, perfectly made up, perfectly coiffed as she strides with perfect poise under the canopy and into the restaurant. I watch with a mixture of awe and envy as I try to smooth my mop of wind-blown hair. She was clearly what my Grandmother would have called a High-Stepper.

My Grandmother, a transplanted Brit, used to say that there were three types of New Yorkers – the Hoofers, the Hailers and the High-Steppers. Hoofers walked, except when it rained, Hailers took cabs and High-Steppers took limousines.

We make an annual pilgrimage to Daniel, my husband’s favorite Gastronomic Temple in New York. And, whether we arrive by foot or be taxi, once inside Daniel’s beautiful dining room, we are always made to feel like High-Steppers.

The service is impeccable -- gracious and attentive yet never effusive, and I am always charmed by the subtle dash of good humor and fun. The waitstaff clearly enjoy their work and will do whatever it takes to make sure you enjoy every moment of your evening. And then there’s the food…….!!!!

I am particularly fond of the black velvet cushions which are placed beside each Lady’s chair for her to rest her handbag. The shape and height of the cushion ensures that your bag or clutch lies within easy reach of your hand without having to bend down. Ladies, how often have you had to balance your clutch on your lap under your napkin only to have one or both slide off during dinner? Major kudos to whoever came up with this brilliant little idea.

The next morning we are waiting in front of the entrance to the Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center. The curtain is scheduled to go up on “Die Walkure” at 12 Noon. It is our last opera for the season and one we have been looking forward to for months. It’s already 11:50, and they still refuse to let us in. What’s going on?

The crowd of anxious opera goers around us grows larger. In all my years as a Met Opera subscriber, this has never happened. It’s impossible not to think the worst. I call my friend, Steve, who is having brunch at the Grand Tier Restaurant inside.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “They won’t let us in and they won’t tell us what’s happening.”

“Oh, they’re having technical problems with the stage again. I got the scoop from the Maitre D’.” It’s been my experience in life that if you want the straight scoop on things like this, you never get it from management.

An hour later we are finally in our seats in the Grand Tier, the crystal chandeliers have risen and we hear the pulsating notes of the brief prelude.

To say it was worth the wait is a HUGE understatement. The massive set which set the Met back more than 45 million dollars and has been more unreliable than the most temperamental of Divas has decided to function beautifully.

Brunnhilde and her eight Valkyrie Sisters ride again on their winged horses rescuing fallen heroes and bringing them to Valhalla.

As the final notes of Wagner’s masterpiece ring out, the audience applauds wildly as the curtain closes on our young heroine, Brunnhilde, lying on a magical rock surrounded by fire, her eyes locked in a deep, enchanted sleep.

She will lie there until the hero, Siegfried, fights his way through the ring of fire that surrounds her and rescues her with a kiss. But, alas, we and Brunnhilde will have to wait until next year for “Siegfried” the third opera in Wagner’s four-opera Ring Cycle. And so I bid a fond auf wiedersehen to Brunnhilde on her fiery rock. It will be a long, hot summer for both of us.

Red Shoes and Glass Slippers

2011-04-27T11:49:00.000-04:00

At any given moment a man knows exactly how many pairs of shoes are in his closet, usually between five and eight. Just ask him. Now, ask a woman that question and she will start to hum, roll her eyes upward as if seeking divine inspiration, want to know if that includes boots and shoes she’s never worn or maybe only once, and then throw up her hands and say, “Gee, I don’t know – I guess, somewhere between 50 and 100? Maybe more?”

Why do we have so many shoes that we can’t keep track of them? Because we can’t stop buying them, because we love them.

We love wearing them; we love trying them on; and we really love buying them.

Buying a new pair of shoes is instant gratification. You don’t have to go into a dressing room and take off your clothes in front of an unforgiving, full-length mirror. You simply slip off your shoes, slip into the new pair, walk up and down a few times in front of a little mirror that only shows your legs from your knees down, and you know instantly whether or not you are perfect for each other.

The first pair of shoes I fell in love with was Moira Shearer’s enchanted ballet slippers in the film “The Red Shoes,” in which a ballerina literally dances herself to death in the most gorgeous pair of red satin ballet slippers I had ever seen.

I was convinced of the magical powers of those ballet slippers. If only I could trade in my pink toe shoes for those red satin ones, I would surely become one of the world’s greatest ballerinas!

Alas, it was not to be.

And then I saw Walt Disney’s film “Cinderella,” and I fell head over heels in love – not with Prince Charming, but with those shoes. I knew from that moment on that I would spend the rest of my life looking for that perfect pair of shoes, those magical glass slippers that would transform me into a princess.

Who needs Prince Charming when you can have those shoes?

While most men do not understand the shoe-obsessed women in their lives, in fact, the original, shoe-obsessed sex was not the feminine sex at all.

Throughout most of the history of western civilization, shoes were far more important to a gentleman’s attire than to a lady’s. From the Middle Ages’ doublet and hose through the Colonial period’s knee breeches and stockings, a gentleman’s legs and feet were very much on display, while a lady’s feet were barely visible under her voluminous skirts.

The well dressed gentleman chose his shoes very carefully to show both his foot and his shapely leg to advantage.

Even into the 19th Century men were still extremely particular about their footwear. In Charles Dickens’ beloved novel “David Copperfield” the title character dons a pair of new boots several sizes too small to impress his lady love with the fashionably small size of his feet.

Walt Disney’s screen version of Cinderella was adapted from a tale written in 1697 by a Frenchman named Charles Perrault, who adapted his version from the original story written by the Countess of Aulnoy, who clearly knew a thing or two about the shoe-obsessed men of her era.

In the Countess’s version, Cinderella does not go to the ball in a pair of glass slippers, but in a tiny pair of red velvet, pearl-encrusted, high-heeled mules. Try running to catch the last pumpkin out of town without losing one of those babies on the way!!

She and Prince Charming never even meet at the ball, much less share a dance.

The Prince finds that perfect little shoe the next day and falls hopelessly in love – not with the owner of the shoe, but with the shoe itself, becoming so obsessed with it that he stops eating, sleeps with it under his pillow and refuses to leave his room.

Realizing that this peculiar relationship is not likely to produce any heirs to the throne, the desperate King and Queen decide to act. In the hope that their son will transfer his affections from the object itself to the owner of the object, it is they who launch the kingdom-wide search for the mysterious lady who lost the shoe.

In the end, the Countess tells us that Cinderella and her Prince do meet, fall in love and marry, thanks to a tiny pair of red velvet, pearl-encrusted, high-heeled mules.

I like to think that instead of honeymooning in Barbados, Cinderella and her Prince Charming went shoe shopping in Paris.

And the moral of the story is -- if a girl wants to live happily ever after, she needs only one Prince Charming in her life, but she can never have too many shoes.

Hair Accessories Are Hot This Spring !

2011-04-26T11:21:00.002-04:00

Just thought you Ladies would enjoy this fun article on hair accessories for spring by fashion reporter Laura Martin. Note the pretty posy on the model's headband. So cute. (See my previous post on "Flower Power").

FYI: The image consultant quoted in the piece is Yours Truly. Enjoy!

http://www.app.com/article/20110426/NJLIFE05/304250023/1050

Spring Fashion Flash 2011 - Flower Power Makes a Comeback!

2011-04-13T17:17:00.002-04:00

Don’t look now, Baby Boomers, but Flower Power is back and it’s everywhere this spring.

From the boudoir to the balcony to the boulevards, Paris is in bloom.

In this adorable little retro boutique, Les Fleurs, in the Bastille neighborhood, the tasteful profusion of flowers adds a touch of country chic to everything, whether you are looking for accessories for you or for your home.

If you’re not into planting, hoeing and weeding this spring, you can always wear your spring garden.

This Dolce & Gabbana flower print dress with white tank top effect is a little bit campagne and a little bit rock ‘n roll. So cute.

And the flower anklets are such a feminine touch, provided you’ve got the ankles to show them off.

Do you think she has her gardening tools in that big green tote?

No, I think she’s going straight from the runway to the Bois to share a pique-nique à deux with someone special, and she’s bringing the wine, the cheese, the bread and the flowers.

How romantic!

If you’re not into wearing an entire spring garden on your body, the next best thing is to accessorize with them.

These floral accessories are all available at Monoprix, the French Fashionista’s favorite place to do cheap and chic.

And, of course, there is nothing more classic and timeless than wearing a flower in your hair.

This elegant young lady, who comes to us courtesy of Posh Little Tutus, knows not only how to wear her pretty posy but how to strike the perfect pose to go with it.

Clearly there is a runway in this little Fashionista’s future.

Have a flower-filled spring.

Water and Wine and a Touch of Divine

2011-03-29T10:31:00.005-04:00

While I was lucky enough to go to University on a full scholarship, I still needed to keep body and soul together, as did many of my schoolmates, so I worked nights and weekends in a large department store. My friend, Fran, had a much more interesting way to keep body and soul together. Fran was a cocktail waitress at night and a Religious Studies major by day hoping to learn the secret of how to turn water into wine as Jesus had done at the Marriage Feast of Cana.

The miracle at the marriage feast of Cana was Jesus’ first miracle in public; I like to think of it as his coming out miracle. He would go on to heal lepers, cure the sick, feed the multitudes and raise the dead, but this miracle is my personal favorite.

If you don’t know or have forgotten the story, this is how it goes.

Jesus and his Mother, Mary, are guests at a wedding feast in Cana. During dinner the wine runs out. Did the caterer miscount? Did guests show up who hadn’t R.S.V.P’d? (Don’t you just hate it when people do that??!) Did single guests arrive unexpectedly with dates? The Bible never tells us.

All we know is that Mary tells Jesus the wine has run out and he responds by saying “What do you want me to do, Mom? It’s not yet time for me to show the world who I am and what I can do.”

Jesus turns and walks away, appearing to ignore his Mother’s unspoken request; but Mary has faith in him. After all, who knows a man better than his own mother? She takes a waiter aside and says, “Do you see that handsome young man over there? He’s my Son. Do whatever He tells you to do. Trust me.”

Sure enough, Jesus walks into the kitchen and tells the staff to fill six large jugs with water and take a glass of the water to the wine steward. A few minutes later, the surprised wine steward comes running into the kitchen demanding to know why this delicious wine was not served until the end of the feast. I wonder if the caterer got blamed for that one.

As far as I know, no one since Jesus has managed to turn water into wine, not even my friend, Fran. Let’s face it, that’s a pretty tough act to follow; but that hasn’t stopped priests and monks over the centuries from experimenting. The most prolific and successful of these ecclesiastical experimenters have been the Benedictine monks, who clearly do not spend all their time in prayer and contemplation. They have found time to create such delicious liqueurs as B&B (Benedictine and Brandy) and Chartreuse.

In the 17th Century, a fat little Benedictine monk, the cellar master at the Abbey of Hautvillers may have done the next best thing to turning water into wine.

While experimenting with a new technique, an act of divine intervention in the form of an exploding bottle sent him running through the monastery. Breaking his vow of silence, he began yelling at the top of his lungs, “Come quickly, Brothers, I am drinking stars!”

And so it was that Father Pierre Pérignon, known as Dom Pérignon, created a drink that lets ordinary mortals commune with the Divine with one sip. And from that day to this, no celebration or marriage feast from Cana to Canberra is complete without it.

In 1945, when the local parish priest, Father Félix Kir, took office as the Mayor of Dijon, he found that the Germans had confiscated the best wines from Burgundy during the war leaving his region with little more than inferior whites. And to make matters worse, a delegation of important dignitaries were due at any moment. What would he serve them? The honor and reputation of Dijon were hanging in the balance. What to do? Father Kir prayed fervently for divine inspiration.

Suddenly, it came to him.

Father Kir poured a small amount of crème de cassis de Dijon (blackcurrant liqueur) into a wine glass and topped it with a large amount of Bourgogne Aligoté (a lesser white wine). The aperitif was an instant hit and quickly became known as a Kir in honor of its creator. It remains to this day the most popular aperitif in France and my personal favorite.

Although the most popular variation of the classic Kir is the Kir Royale, made with champagne, there are endless variations with which you can experiment.

You can add any liqueur you choose: peach, raspberry, blackberry or pink grapefruit.

You can vary the amount of liqueur to please the eye and the palate. Add more and your Kir is sweeter and deeper in color. Add less and it is dryer and lighter in color.

However you make it, I think you will agree that the Kir is quite simply divine.

Dance with Me

2011-03-18T20:40:00.002-04:00

The other night I curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and watched one of my favorite guilty pleasure movies for the umpteenth time. When “The Turning Point” was released in 1977 many critics were less than kind, the ballet world was dismissive and it won no academy awards, but that didn’t stop millions of young women from falling in love with it.

Leslie Browne was 19 years old when she danced her way into our hearts as Emilia, the small town girl who joins a New York ballet company, falls in love, has her heart broken and becomes a principal dancer all in the space of one memorable summer.

While the plot may be a bit thin, the dance sequences featuring some of the greatest ballet dancers of the era are nothing short of dazzling.

For many moviegoers, this would be their first glimpse backstage at the pain, frustration, pulled muscles and bleeding toes that are the world of ballet ----- and their first glimpse of the incomparable Russian dancer, Mikhail Baryshnikov as Yuri, captured forever in his magnificent prime.

But for me, the most beautiful dance sequence in the entire film remains the one that takes Emilia and Yuri from partners in dance on the dance floor to partners in love in the bedroom, all to the music of Prokofiev’s “Romeo and Juliet.” In one of the most beautiful and sensual love scenes ever filmed, Emilia’s arms reach out and gracefully spiral down as she surrenders utterly and completely.

A decade later in another of my favorite films, “Dirty Dancing,” lovemaking for Baby and Johnny also begins on the dance floor this time to a slow, pulsating rock ‘n roll beat and ends in an explosion of passion in Johnny’s bed -- surely one of the sexiest love scenes ever filmed.

And yet, for me, the most sensual dancing duo of all time never even share an on-screen kiss, much less a night of passionate lovemaking. They don’t need to. It’s all right there in the dance, from flirtation to fulfillment. The moment Fred Astaire puts his hand on the small of Ginger’s back he is making love to her and the audience can feel it.

Katharine Hepburn said that Ginger gave Fred sex and Fred gave Ginger class. Whether or not that was the source of the Astaire/Rogers chemistry, I have no idea. But I do know that Fred had a way of touching and holding a woman that takes my breath away.

I once saw an interview with the gorgeous and talented Cyd Charisse who danced with both Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire in the 1950s.

After dancing with Gene, she said, she was black and blue, but after dancing with Fred there was not a mark on her. And she smiled sweetly as she said it.

Having hung up my toe shoes many years ago, I've spent the last 35 years with a man who cannot dance. And yet, and yet, when he puts his hand on the small of my back, it takes my breath away.

It’s all in the touch.

Have a Lovely Hot Soak

2011-02-08T10:42:00.006-05:00

When I was a little girl and would come home from school with the weight of the world on my shoulders, as only an eight-year-old can, my British grandmother would say, “Have a lovely hot soak and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.” She was a firm believer in the restorative powers of both. Marie Anastasia, my maternal grandmother, had been born into wealth, but by the age of 16 her profligate father had managed to run through the family fortune with amazing speed leaving them virtually penniless. Estates, servants, carriages and other vestiges of her opulent childhood would become a distant memory for Marie, except for the white marble bathtub in her private bath. Some day, she vowed, she would once again have a lovely hot soak in a beautiful bathtub all her own.

Bathing was once considered a luxury reserved for the upper classes. Ornate bathtubs, sometimes made of precious metals, became symbols of their owners’ wealth and power and were designed accordingly.

Cleopatra was reported to be one of history’s earliest super soakers in everything from mud to milk. It would appear that whenever a crisis loomed she took to her bath, a thoroughly sensible reaction in my opinion. After all, look at what the poor woman had to deal with – invading armies, an ignominious occupation, treachery and betrayal in her own household, two Roman warriors ready to hack either other to pieces for her affections, not to mention fratricide, genocide and, in the end, suicide.

I think I’d retire to my baths after a day like that, too.

Napoleon bathed every day believing there was nothing like a good soak before fine-tuning your plans for world domination. He even took a folding bathtub with him on campaigns. Legend has it that on the morning of the battle of Waterloo the Emperor’s bathtub went missing (an act of sabotage perhaps?) denying him his morning soak and getting his day off to a very bad start. Of course, we all know how it ended. I can’t help thinking how differently history might have written of that day, but for a missing bathtub.

Of course, there are those rare occasions when skipping a bath altogether might in fact be a very good idea, as Jean-Paul Marat discovered when he received a certain young Charlotte Corday on July 13, 1793, while in his bathtub.

Having hidden a large butcher knife in her fichu, she plunged it into his chest thereby ending the life of one of the monsters of the French Revolution.

Four days later, the 25-year-old Corday went to the guillotine for her crime.

Marat’s unpleasant experience aside, I firmly believe, as did my grandmother, that a lovely hot soak can get you through almost anything in life. The ritual preparations themselves are soothing -- pouring the lavender mousse bath foam into the water and getting that first whiff of scent as the bubbles burst open; lighting the vanilla scented candles; choosing the perfect piece of music to accompany the whole experience (for me, anything by Richard Strauss sung by Renée Fleming); and pouring my favorite champagne into a crystal flute. Well, after all, I’m not eight years old anymore and grandmother’s hot cup of tea doesn’t quite do the trick these days.

And then comes that wonderful moment when at last you sink down into the warm, sweet-smelling water and close your eyes. You feel safe and loved. Nothing can harm you in here. This is the way it must have been for you in the womb, except without the bubbles and champagne (what a pity!).

Somewhere along the line we stopped taking baths and started taking showers. Not only are they quicker, they are also a more efficient use of our water and our time, both of which we are constantly being told are in short supply. So we are in and out of the bathroom before you can say “ablution.” We may be washing more frequently than our upper-crust forebears, but we are certainly enjoying it less. Thus, you might logically conclude that bathrooms would become smaller and more utilitarian, probably eliminating the tub altogether, and for a while things were heading in that direction.

Now, however, we seem to have gone the other way. Once again the bathroom has become a symbol of its owners’ wealth and power. We are obsessed with them. And the focal point of these huge bathrooms is the bathtub. Sunken or elevated, no longer does it just lie there taking up space and waiting to be filled. It is a monument to our lifestyles, fetishes and aspirations.

This to-die-for bathtub, the Audrey, comes from the creative genius of Italian designer Massimiliano Della Monaca and speaks to two of my favorite fetishes: bubble baths and shoes. Fabulous! Wouldn’t you just love to have a lovely hot soak in that?

At the end of the day, however, whether you do it in a tub that is grandiose, fanciful or ever so humble, a lovely hot soak helps you smooth out the bumps in the road and escape into a world of your own design for a few glorious minutes every day.

And now, if you’ll excuse me while I hang my prière de ne pas déranger sign on the door, I have a hot bath waiting to take me to an enchanted place where I am younger, taller, and thinner.

Chanel Gets Cheeky

2011-02-04T10:02:00.003-05:00

Just could not resist posting this animated ad by Chanel. It's cheeky, clever, oh so cute and I will never look at those little flat make-up brushes you get with your blush in quite the same way again. I think Mademoiselle would approve, don't you? C'est génial!

Memories of Mayonnaise

2011-02-01T20:10:00.000-05:00

It’s been such a wonderful weekend, the kind you hope will never end but secretly hope it does for fear that some silly thing will mar its wonderfulness if it lasts too much longer. Does that make sense?

Well, anyway, it’s a snowy, blustery Sunday afternoon and I am in the kitchen standing over a steaming pot of Cassoulet. The house is bathed in the sounds of a Mozart symphony and the smells of bubbling pancetta and sausage, garlic and onions, fresh thyme and white beans. As I breathe in the aroma, I remember other Sunday afternoons when my Father would commandeer the kitchen, to my Mother’s relief.

He’d walk into the house after morning Mass, take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and head straight for the kitchen to begin the preparations for Sunday lunch.

Upstairs in my room it took every ounce of a 10-year-old’s willpower to ignore the tantalizing smells emanating from below and concentrate on mastering long division.

From my glamorous French-American Mother, a former model and opera singer, I inherited my love of clothes, and from my handsome French father, the son of a chef, I inherited my love of food.

Stunning Leslie Caron, who will forever be Gigi in the minds of most Americans, was also the child of an American Mother and French Father.

In her charming autobiography Thank Heaven… she relates a delicious tidbit that made me smile in recognition when I read it. A Parisian born and bred, she is living in Los Angeles and expecting weekend guests. She discovers she has run out of mayonnaise and asks the cook to make some. The horrified cook confesses she doesn’t know how to “cook” mayonnaise, to which Leslie replies that you don’t “cook” mayonnaise, you make it. In its most basic form it’s just egg yolks, lemon juice and olive oil beaten together.

We were living in Philadelphia when my Father passed away. Several months later a strange jar appeared in our refrigerator and I learned that in America mayonnaise came from a jar. Quelle surprise!

My Mother had no desire to make her own like a proper Frenchwoman. After all, she was only half French, and her American half was perfectly happy with mayo from a jar. My French Father would have been horrified.

Everyone was together to celebrate the 14th of July (“le quatorze”), Bastille Day. I must have been seven or eight years old. We were in the large kitchen of a farmhouse and I was standing in the corner watching the women bustle about in high activity. Seated in the corner was the Baroness. Like my Father, she was a decorated war veteran. We were all in awe of her. She had been in the Maquis and it was common knowledge that she could and did handle a machine gun as well as any man could or did. But at the moment, she was beating oil in tiny droplets into a bowl. I was fascinated. I moved closer to see and my Mother pulled me back. “Don’t bother the Baroness,” she scolded, to which the Baroness replied, “Leave the child alone. Some day she will need to know how to make mayonnaise.” My Mother murmured something about Frenchwomen and their obsession with mayonnaise and left. And so I watched, fascinated by the rhythmic circular motion of her strong hands – hands that could just have easily pulled the trigger of a gun, but were now gently and methodically coaxing a golden emulsion from an egg yolk and olive oil. I was mesmerized.

These days I confess I do not spend as much time in the kitchen as I would like, but I still make my own mayonnaise.

If you would like to learn how to make your own mayonnaise and don’t have a French father or know a gun-toting Baroness, may I recommend Julia Child’s recipe in “Mastering the Art of French Cooking?” It is absolutely foolproof.

Once you’ve made your own mayonnaise, you can never be satisfied with what comes out of a jar. Trust me.

Must dash! Someone’s just come in. “Hi, Honey, I’m home! Wow, something smells fabulous!” Those are the words of a hungry husband who’s just gotten a whiff of my Cassoulet.

Bon appétit!

Marguerite, Violetta and Marie

2011-01-24T11:47:00.005-05:00

It’s Saturday afternoon and I am sitting in the Grand Tier of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York watching a performance of “La Traviata” by Giuseppe Verdi. I have seen so many “Traviatas” over my lifetime, that I long ago lost count; and yet, each time the houselights dim and I hear the first plaintive strains of that beautiful prelude, I am seven years old again waiting for the curtain to go up on my very first opera, “La Traviata.”

Maria Callas

Ileana Cotrubs

Renée Fleming

The role of Violetta Valéry, the beautiful young courtesan who comes to a tragic end, is one of the most difficult and demanding soprano roles in all of opera, and I am privileged to say that I have seen many of the greatest sopranos of my time take on this lyric and dramatic tour de force. From the mesmerizing Maria Callas whose Violetta died sitting in a chair with her eyes wide open, to the fragile beauty of the Rumanian soprano, Ileana Cotrubas, whose lifeless body lay cradled in her lover’s arms as the curtain closed, to the luminous Renée Fleming who summoned all her strength at the end to defy death even as she must succumb to it, Verdi imbued this complex character with so many colors that she remains utterly timeless and endlessly fascinating.

If you have never seen Verdi’s “La Traviata,” you may think that you have never encountered Violetta Valéry. Ah, but you have, perhaps without knowing it, in one of her many incarnations.

In 1936, Hollywood made a wildly successful movie starring the gorgeous Greta Garbo as “Camille.”

The film was based on the 1852 play by Alexandre Dumas, fils, called “La Dame aux Camélias” (The Lady of the Camellias).

The real life courtesan, Marie Duplessis, with whom Dumas had been in love, was his inspiration for the play’s heroine, Marguerite Gautier.

And in 1853, Marguerite Gautier would become Verdi’s inspiration for his “Traviata” (fallen woman), Violetta Valéry.

Do you find yourself crying with Christian when the beautiful Satine dies in “Moulin Rouge?”

Without knowing it, you are also weeping for Marguerite, Violetta, Camille and Marie Duplessis.

Who was this enigmatic woman immortalized in print, music and on the silver screen? Who was Marie Duplessis?

Marie Duplessis, née Rose Alphonsine Plessis, was born in a small town in Normandy in 1824. At the age of 12, her charms were already in evidence and being enjoyed by the local gentlemen of the village with the willing cooperation of her father.

At 15, she moved to Paris, and by 16 had become a celebrated courtesan whose Patrons (clients) were the rich and famous of the day. She became known as the Lady of the camellias for the white camellias she always wore, except for one week each month when they were red, a discreet sign to her Patrons that she was hors du combat, so to speak.

Unlike most of the ladies of the 19th century demimonde, she was more than just a pretty face. She learned to read and write, kept abreast of the latest political, literary and artistic news, and her Salon was populated with the great artists and intellectuals of the day. As a result of her active mind and quick wit, she remained on friendly terms with most of her former lovers and Patrons long after their physical relationships had ended. One of these former lovers was the man who would make her famous, Alexandre Dumas, fils.

Marie Duplessis died of the great scourge of the 19th century, tuberculosis, which was then called consumption. Two of her former lovers, one of whom she had married, were with her at the end. She was 23 years old.

After her death, her belongings were sold at auction to pay for her enormous debts. The auction, held in Marie’s apartments, was attended by the curious, by those who knew and loved her and by those who did not. Dumas was in attendance.

Respectable ladies of Paris, whose husbands had been among her lovers and who would never have set foot in Marie’s apartments, came to gawk and sneer at the remains of the life of the Lady of the camellias.

She is buried in Montmartre Cemetery along with her former lover and the man who gave her immortality, Alexandre Dumas, fils.

The Royals, the Nearly Royals and Their Hats

2011-01-12T12:08:00.003-05:00

No sooner had Buckingham Palace announced the engagement of Prince William to Catherine Middleton than the inevitable comparisons between Kate and Diana began in earnest with honors going to one or the other, depending on the point of comparison.

Young Kate will need to tread lightly but firmly if she is to emerge from the shadow of the Diana comparisons, and I have every confidence in her ability to do just that. When she marries Prince William in April of 2011, she will be almost a decade older than Diana was on her wedding day. The difference in maturity, life experience and self-confidence from the early twenties to the late twenties is quite significant. Kate is already an internationally acknowledged fashion icon with a signature style, while the young Diana’s style was completely unfocussed, fussy and frumpy giving no clue to the elegant fashion icon she would later become.

Kate is usually referred to as a “commoner,” which seems to ruffle the egalitarian feathers of some Americans, but it simply means she has no royal blood. Don’t forget that, although called Lady Diana, Diana herself was a commoner as was the much loved Queen Mum, Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon. England and indeed Europe in general are full of “commoners” running around with titles. I personally know an Italian Count who owns an ancient Fiat that breaks down so often he just leaves it in front of the Trattoria he frequents and walks back and forth to the little apartment he shares with his mother, the Contessa.

So, how well will this lovely young commoner fit in to the royal family? I have no idea, but I do think they may find one very significant area of common ground – Hats!

Nobody loved hats more than the Queen Mum. Over her lifetime, she spent a Queen’s ransom on them. Early on she found a style that worked for her and stuck with it. Whether adorned with feathers, fur, ribbons or lace, the brim of her hats always swept back off her face the better to frame the warmth of the sunny smile that brought the Brits through the dark days of World War II.

Her daughter, the current Queen, continues the royal tradition of taking great interest in royal headgear. Queen Elizabeth’s style is clearly more eclectic than her Mother’s, sometimes to dubious effect, but she is said to be very hands on during the creation process and scrutinizes the results carefully before giving her royal approval.

And then came Diana, Princess of Wales, who changed the whole image of royalty as much with her hats as with her clothes.

This English Rose, a long-stemmed beauty with great bone structure, had the perfect face for hats. Whether they had (l to r) a broad brim, small brim or no brim at all, Diana always looked best in hats with a large crown.

And she wore them all to perfection.

And now there is Kate, an earthy beauty, whose classic girl-next-door (you should be so lucky to live next door to her, boys!!) good looks and style savvy will make her a royal to watch for decades to come. Whether it’s a jaunty beret, romantic Dr. Zhivago fur, classic black picture hat or Aussie rider there isn’t a hat she cannot wear to perfection.

Prince Charles is reported to have persuaded his son to pop the question to Kate by saying that they had been “practicing” long enough. Well, I’d say that practice makes perfect, and she will be the perfect Queen consort. I can already feel the breath of fresh fashion air wafting from Buckingham Palace.

Speaking of the Palace, they have assured me that my wedding invitation is in the mail, which means I have just enough time to chercher the perfect chapeau!!!

Photos courtesy of I-Village and Getty Images

Christmas in Haddonfield

2010-12-13T17:19:00.002-05:00

No matter where we are right now or where we’d like to be the rest of the year, that old song rings true as temperatures drop, expectations rise and Santa begins the pre-flight check on his sleigh. There is no place like home for the holidays.

Shall we stop for a cup of tea at the Picket Fence?

This is a wonderful place to pick up every accessory imaginable for the perfect afternoon tea.

Yummy!!

Here we are at the Haddonfield Floral Company where I buy all my flowers.

Right about now your feet must be starting to ache. Time to stop by the Haddonfield Inn, pull up a comfy chair by a cozy fire, sip some mulled wine and feel the warmth of family and friends.

Closet Therapy for Florence - Florence Learns How to Shop

2010-12-02T23:57:00.006-05:00

In this final behind the scenes look at how Florence found her style, Fifi and I teach Florence how to shop.

Now that Florence had become an expert on her own body, her color palette and her own style, she needed to become an expert at shopping -- in other words, how to shop like a Pro.

Here are three of my top shopping tips:

1) Never go shopping without a list. Mother never went to the grocery store without her list and Santa never leaves home on Christmas Eve without his. In our first session, I gave Florence a one-page list of Wardrobe Basics, all of which can be found in Fifi’s armoire. We used it to determine what Florence had and what she needed, which was almost everything.

2) Never go shopping without lipstick. Sound silly? Not really. Store lighting is notoriously unreliable in determining color, especially in dressing rooms; therefore, your perfect shade of lipstick is a good clue as to whether the lighting has yellow or blue undertones. If your lipstick color looks “off,” check the color of the garment in natural light, if possible.

3) Never go shopping with friends. Do I even need to elaborate on this one? For the Pro, shopping is not a social, recreational activity. Friends slow you down and even the most well intentioned can have a negative influence on your choices. Just because she’s your best friend doesn’t mean she has any taste. Remember the last boyfriend who left her with a broken heart? He wasn’t even worth a broken fingernail!

In her youth, Florence had been a recreational shopper spending hours happily wandering around stores like this one with her girlfriends.

The mix of bright colors and patterns all thrown together in a cramped space is designed to catch the shopper’s attention, but ultimately the eye becomes fatigued by the riot of colors and the mind becomes confused about how to put pieces together.

This is a place to pick up an interesting piece or two (or not) to add to a great, classic wardrobe, but it’s not a place to start building that great, classic wardrobe.

This is where you start to build your wardrobe basics, in a spacious, well lit store like Talbots or Anne Taylor, where great classic pieces that won’t break the piggy bank are organized by style and color. Clothing modules containing pieces that all work together are grouped together, and mannequins display how to pull it all together with accessories. Since they’ve done most of the heavy lifting for you, you can tell at a glance what items to pull for the dressing room.

Working from our list of Wardrobe Basics, we pulled quite a few items for Florence in the warm, neutral shades that complemented her coloring so perfectly. And then and only then did we take a quick look at the “Sale” rack where we found a few pieces that worked with several of the items we had already selected. (The old Florence would have started and stopped at the “Sale” rack.). In under an hour, we had pulled together at least five mix-and-match clothing modules and Florence left not only not feeling exhausted, but dare I say exhilarated.

After hitting a few more stores, we came pretty close to completing our list while allowing for one or two “must have” impulse purchases; after all, I’m not totally heartless. Now it was time for a little fun -- accessories. At H&M we found some colorful, inexpensive scarves and fun jewelry. At a vintage consignment store around the corner we picked up some high end costume jewelry from the 50s for next to nothing. Vintage stores are a great place to find one-of-a-kind statement pieces that can add that all important je ne sais quoi to any classic outfit, and the quality is usually far superior to what is made today. By the end of the day, it was obvious that Florence now had the tools and the confidence to fly solo.

I am happy to report that Florence’s closet is now cured of its identity crisis. You can look in Florence’s closet today and get an immediate sense of the woman and her style. Fifi is very proud.

But, before I close the book on the Florence chronicles, I have one last update to share with you. Do you remember the handsome gentleman who asked her to help him pick out a tie? Well, it seems that Florence has been picking out Alan’s ties ever since that fateful meeting in the Men’s Department at Nordstrom.

This is my latest e-mail from Florence.

“Yesterday, Alan asked me to meet him in the Men’s Department at Nordstrom after work. He had an important meeting the next day and wanted my advice on picking out the perfect tie.

When I got there….no Alan, so I started browsing.

Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder and there he was holding a dress shirt in one hand and three neckties in the other. Sound familiar?

‘Excuse me, Miss’ he said, ‘but, which tie do you think goes best with this shirt? You look like someone who would know.’

As I started to laugh, he put a tiny blue box in my hand. ‘Florence,’ he said, ‘would you do me the honor of picking out my ties for the rest of my life?’

Suddenly the Men’s Department at Nordstrom was the most romantic place in the world!!”

Fifi, I think our work here is done.

Closet Therapy for Florence – Florence Learns About Her Color Palette

2010-11-23T16:38:00.006-05:00

Once Florence began to understand and appreciate her own body and what the right clothes could do for her (See "Closet Therapy for Florence - Florence Learns about her Body") she then needed to learn what the right colors could do for her.

For Florence the world of color was a confusing land where everyone spoke a foreign language – “toasted, tinted and tertiary……lions and tigers and hues, oh my!!!”

In order to make sense of this strange world, Florence had “had her colors done” by an “expert,” who had taken one look at this blue-eyed blonde and declared her to be a “Summer.” While summer is the hottest season of the year, the colors associated with its seasonal color palette are cool – steel grey, icy pink, sky blue. The typical Summer woman often has blue eyes, will have a pink or rosy tint to her complexion and probably had flaxen hair as a child.

Florence’s closet was full of the cool pastel colors of summer and, like most blue-eyed blondes, she loved her pink lipstick. But were the cool colors of summer right for her? It is easy to mistake a blue-eyed blonde for a classic Summer woman; however, Florence’s complexion showed me what I needed to know. Now it was time to show Florence.

I put Florence’s left hand on a silver metallic drape and her right hand on a gold metallic drape. “Now,” I said, “look at your hands and tell me which one looks better?” After giving it some thought, Florence replied, “the right hand looks better. Somehow, it just looks younger and smoother.”

Next came the earring test. Gold earrings were clearly more flattering on Florence than silver. Florence was beginning to catch on.

Now for the final touch – a dab of sunny coral lipstick on Florence’s lips. “Wow,” she said. “Look at that! My face looks brighter and younger. I had no idea lipstick could make such a difference.” In fact, Ladies, the right shade of lipstick makes all the difference.

Florence has bright blue eyes, warm honey-toned skin and golden blonde hair.

While the cool colors of the Summer palette drained all the life from Florence’s face, Florence began to see how the warmth of the Spring palette breathed new life into her delicate features.

Lovely Jody Foster is my favorite example of a beautiful Spring woman.

I took out my color drapes and set to work showing Florence what the right colors could do for her.

When we finished, I gave her a pocket-sized set of Spring color swatches as a guide and told her not to worry about all those scary color terms that had intimidated her in the past. “Some of these colors will be more flattering than others, but if you stick to this guide, you really can’t go wrong, because these, Florence, are your colors.”

Like a beautiful Spring morning, Florence began to blossom before my eyes.

There were two final areas to cover in our discussion about color.

1) Neutrals: Since we will be building a classic, versatile wardrobe for Florence, neutrals will be playing a key role. All neutrals are not created equal. One man’s beige is another man’s taupe. In other words, neutrals, like their brighter-colored cousins, are either warm or cool. The neutrals we choose for Florence need to be warm (i.e., yellowy beige) rather than cool (rosy beige).

2) Color Placement: The color that really counts is the color closest to your face. Florence has a great pair of wool crepe trousers in steel grey which we will be keeping. In order to make this cool color work for Florence, we will top it with a warm yellow sweater and a brightly patterned scarf that will pull the warm and cool shades together and/or a tweed jacket that will do the same. Get the picture?

Time for the three of us (Florence, Fifi and me) to go shopping. Stay Tuned as Florence learns how to make the most of her shopping experience.

Pictures and graphics from www.carolthompsoncosmetics.com

Closet Therapy for Florence – Florence Learns about her Body

2010-11-14T22:50:00.009-05:00

In my previous piece, I introduced you to Florence and her schizophrenic closet (See: "Closet Therapy for Florence"), and we saw how, with a little guidance from me, Florence was able to channel her inner Fifi and find her own style. Now when you open Florence’s closet instead of seeing “The Three Faces of Eve,” you see Florence, a woman whose daytime style is casual chic and sporty and whose nighttime style is classic and elegant. So, how did we get there? Well, here’s a little behind the scenes look at how Florence found her style.

The first order of business was to make Florence an expert on her own body. Like most women, when Florence looked in the mirror, all she saw were the bits she didn’t like. Before she could update her wardrobe, she needed to update her perspective.

To do that, we started by deconstructing and evaluating each part of her body from top to bottom. Then we put it all back together. Florence began to see how each part worked together to create the whole, and she started to appreciate that whole – her own unique proportions.

For the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, Florence looked in the mirror and saw the whole woman. Through the prism of this new perspective she could clearly see what did and did not work for her body type and why.

Florence’s body was rather boyish when she was young. Age and children have taken her body from rectangular to tubular. Like many of my clients, she does not have a defined waist, which gives her two very good options.

Option 1: Florence can let her clothes create a waistline for her. This Bill Blass blouse with ruffles above and below the nipped-in waist will give the illusion of a tiny waist on any woman, and the ruffles gives a feminine flair to even the most boyish figure.

Since Florence is small busted, the ruffles down the front of the blouse are very figure flattering.

Jackets structured along the same lines will also go a long way to creating feminine curves for Florence.

The waistline on this adorable little cocktail dress hits Florence right under her bust line, which is very flattering for women with Florence’s body type; plus+ a higher waistline makes your legs look longer.

The detail of the diagonal bow cutting across the front minimizes any tummy issues while simultaneously enhancing Florence’s small bust line.

Florence has nice shoulders, firm upper arms and a lovely long neck, all of which are showcased in this strapless dress.

Option 2: Florence can bypass the whole waist issue by wearing a tunic top with skinny jeans or leggings.

This vintage-inspired, pleated top in silk is available at Nordstrom.

You don’t need a tiny little waist to look feminine in this graceful and flowy top.

Because Florence is tall, she can carry off this bold print beautifully. And those lovely bell sleeves just cry out for this season’s hot accessory – big, bold cocktail rings.

An unstructured swing coat with big collar and cuffs in a great neutral color, such as this Shawl coat from Barney’s, is perfect for Florence.

This versatile, understated statement coat can be worn over almost anything in Florence’s wardrobe from skinny jeans (add a fringed, cotton scarf) to a dressy day dress (add a large Hermès square).

This is a go anywhere do anything coat that is also a great signature piece for Florence’s wardrobe.

The next step in Florence’s transformation was to find her perfect color palette. Stay tuned.

Closet Therapy for Florence

2010-11-07T16:29:00.007-05:00

The average Frenchwoman’s entire wardrobe fits neatly into an armoire, and she wears everything in it. By contrast, Surveys show that the average American woman’s wardrobe is bursting through the seams of her walk-in closet, and she wears less than one-third of what’s in it.

Every morning the American woman opens her closet, stares at its bulging contents and says the same thing, “I don’t have anything to wear.”
How can this be? What’s wrong with this picture?

Here’s a clue:

French Fifi and American Florence walk into a store. Each tries on a blouse.
Fifi wrinkles her nose and asks, “Est-ce bien mon style?” (Is this my style?)
Florence looks at the tag and asks, “Is this on sale?”

Get the idea?

Fifi chooses each piece she buys with great care. She likes a bargain as much as Florence, but she won’t buy something just because it is on sale if it is not bien son style. As a result, she wears everything in her armoire because everything in it is bien son style.

Fifi will walk out of the store with the perfect little white blouse which will look fabulous with at least five other pieces in her wardrobe.
(For details on this beautiful armoire go to:http://www.theparisapartment.com/)

Florence’s closet, by contrast, is stuffed with stuff she never wears because she does not ask herself the right question at the store.

Florence will walk out of the store with a fuchsia top that doesn’t go with anything she has, and she will never get around to getting the anything that it would go with because, in fact, the color doesn’t looks quite right when she gets it home, so she’ll never wear it. But, hey, it was 50% off! Can’t pass that up, or can you?

After years of shopping this way, Florence’s closet is experiencing a major identity crisis, and I have been called in to help.

Florence is a woman of a certain age (“une femme d’un certain âge”), by which the French mean any woman over 40. It’s a polite way of saying, “It’s none of your damn business how old I am, mon cher.”

Florence runs a successful business from home, the last of her children has been packed off to college, and after two years of widowhood, she would like to start enjoying a social life again, particularly the company of the opposite sex; but before she can do that, she needs some serious closet therapy.

A survey of Florence’s closet shows that, as I suspected, it breaks down into roughly three sections:

(1) Flo the Frump: This section contains the uniform of the American woman who has given up on her appearance – sweats, shapeless sweaters, T-shirts, flip-flops, sneakers and worn-out slippers. True to form, the clothes she wears most whether working at home or running out on errands come from this tiny section at the front of her closet – the grab and go section.

(2) Flora the Floozy: The other tiny section in the very back contains items that she wears when she wants to play “dress up.” With a few exceptions, it consists of items that are not flattering, if they ever were, as they are too revealing, too tight, or just too, too much. In short, they are not age appropriate and they look cheap because most were bargain and impulse buys.

(3) Where is Florence?: The rest of the closet contains a dizzying mish-mash of unrelated items. Here we find the fuchsia top that she bought along with other items like it still wearing their tags. Here and there among the mass of mismatched items are stuffed power suits from the 80s and other reminders of younger, thinner times, what I like to call the Nora Desmonds of a woman’s closet who wait for Mr. de Mille to call them for their close up – a call that will never come.

Florence leads a busy, complicated life. The last thing she needs to face each morning is a complicated, schizophrenic wardrobe. What she needs is a wardrobe of great basics like those in Fifi’s armoire. These are the great classic pieces that are versatile enough to be dressed up or down at a moment’s notice for any occasion -- your “go to” pieces which form the backbone of every well dressed woman’s wardrobe. Think Chanel and casual chic.

I go over my list of Wardrobe Basics with Florence and we get started. Flo the Frump can stay, for now, if Florence promises never, ever to let her appear anywhere other than in front of her computer screen. She agrees. Flora the Floozy is banished to the bin.

The dizzying mish-mash that had overtaken the bulk of Florence’s closet like creeping moss has been removed.

Over the next few months, Florence channels her inner Fifi and begins to pull together not only a great wardrobe, but a great sense of herself and her own style. Flo the Frump is making less and less of an appearance.

Florence discovers a love for scarves and displays a great knack for picking the perfect accessory that will add that all-important je ne sais quoi.

Family and friends begin to notice and clients are responding positively to Florence’s new sense of sleek confidence.

I get regular updates.

Yesterday an e-mail arrived from Florence.

“Just had to tell you the latest. I was browsing in Nordstrom and a handsome gentleman came up to me with a dress shirt in one hand and three neckties in the other.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, ‘but, which tie do you think goes best with this shirt? You look like someone who would know. You’re so put together, and I love your scarf.’

“We had dinner together last night. I think he might just be my style. What do you think?”

I think Fifi and I are delighted.

Paris Street Chic – What’s "en Vogue?"

2010-10-27T16:32:00.004-04:00

I have always loved Paris street chic, particularly when the Chic are on their way to the Shows during fashion week. Street and runway reflect and inspire each other and photographer Philip Oh of StreetPeeper offers up some of the most delicious fruits of that collaboration for Vogue on line.

Here are some of my picks.

It doesn’t get more elegant and classic than this, or does it?? Giovanna Battaglia, Fashion Editor at L’Uomo Vogue and former model for Dolce and Gabanna, knows just how to put her own flourish on classic elegance.

This impeccably tailored, lady-like dress in classic white (the white hot color for spring!!) gets kicked up several style notches by the scallop-edged ruffles and hem short enough to reveal miles of long, shapely leg; instead of the classic pump, she has opted for a thoroughly modern take on the classic T-strap to stunning effect.

And, of course, no well-dressed European woman leaves home without a fabulous scarf, particularly on a typically overcast fall day in Paris.

I am also intrigued by the cool bracelet on her left wrist. Is it ornamental, functional or both? Since she’s not carrying a handbag, has she stashed her cell phone in there?

This is clearly a lady who knows how to pose while appearing not to notice the camera. How utterly chic!!

Here, Slovakian super model, Kinga Rajzak, shows us how to transition a summery print dress into a chic fall outfit.

The dark color of the jacket picks up the darkest color in the print and is then repeated in the scarf and the larger of the two handbags.

The smaller handbag takes its color cue from the lighter hues of the print.

The overall effect is of a seamless color palette whose interest comes from the mix of hues and textures.

The look is totally natural and effortless, the essence of true style.

My only quibble is with the length of the dress, which I would have shortened a few inches. I prefer to leave Paris street sweeping to the professionals.

My first reaction to this picture was………..OMG, how cute is this!! Vanessa Coyle, Senior Fashion Editor for Harper’s Bazaar UK is just adorable here. That’s the only word for it.

This outfit is fun, flirty and just edgy enough to suit my taste.

The colors are neutral with the interest coming from the mix of textures and the geometry of the skirt.

Just look at the playful, zig zag angle of that skirt. How cute is that?! It looks as if she just threw it on and dashed out the door.

That cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smile on her face tells the whole story. She looks fabulous and she knows it!

It’s hard to do casual chic better than this!

Here, Teen Vogue’s Senior Accessories Editor, Shiona Turini, shows us exactly how to do it -- accessorize, that is.

The lady-like, buttoned-up look is everywhere this fall, and this retro plaid, shirt waist dress is a great example.

Shiona has added a wide belt with a big, brass buckle to draw attention to a slender waist. The cropped leather jacket which fits like a second skin adds a great modern twist.

The platform shoes, while giving a nod to the past, have her feet firmly planted in the present.

The classic satchel in a dark neutral is perfect, and the size makes it perfectly practical.

In short, she is perfectly put together.

And now (drum roll, please!!) we come to my absolute favorite StreetPeeper shot.

For me, the photo of this unidentified couple represents the epitome of Paris street chic. Look at the artful way this stunning young woman has mixed colors, patterns and textures under a bright red Paris umbrella. Her look is purposeful, her stride is graceful and her companion holds that umbrella over her as if he were holding a canopy over the head of visiting royalty.

Isn't it wonderful to think that you need only turn onto any cobble-stoned street or walk down any tree-lined boulevard in Paris to see the art of street chic at its finest?

The Power of Fashion

2010-10-13T18:12:00.008-04:00

The frenzy of activity pre-, during, and post- fashion week in the fashion capitals of the world is over. Designers and their entourages have folded their tents and gone home. Suddenly, all is calm and soothing silence. My notes have been filed away until the spring, when we will know which of those spring/summer trends will actually make it from the runway to the closets of real women everywhere. Will we throw caution to the winds and show up at that backyard barbecue in a crisp white frock? Will we risk looking like our grandmother’s favorite tablecloth and wear that lace dress to a garden wedding? Only time will tell. But, whether we decide to embrace or sit out the spring/summer fashion trends, we women have always understood and appreciated the power of fashion.

In 16th century London, Anne Boleyn, fresh from the French court, caught the eye of Henry VIII, a very fashion-forward monarch himself. She dazzled him as much with her elegant style as with her lustrous dark hair and flashing eyes. Her dropped bodice, long fitted sleeves and beaded headbands were immediately copied by every lady at the English court.

By the end of the 17th century, the first fashion magazine, Le Mercure Galant, was using elaborate engravings from metal plates to keep Frenchwomen up to date not only on the latest Parisian fashion trends, but on the lifestyles of the rich and famous that went with them. From these engravings would come the expression that a well-dressed woman looked like a “Fashion Plate.”

In the 18th and 19th centuries, American women could actually get their hands on a small piece of the latest Parisian designs. Articulated wooden dolls dressed in the latest French fashions from head to toe and from the inside out, accessories included, would arrive by boat to great fanfare. Local seamstresses would charge their clients a fee to look at them, and an even larger fee to take them home and study them.

Earlier this month, Vogue Paris celebrated its 90th Birthday with a splashy, over-the-top (quelle surprise!!) black-and-white bash. The theme “Eyes Wide Shut” was eerily appropriate.

Glossy fashion magazines and the designers they promote have run headlong into the reality of changing tastes, dwindling clientele and troubled economic times, all of which have taken a heavy toll on their bottom lines, not to mention high profile casualties such as Christian Lacroix.

Can they survive? Can Haute Couture survive the demands of a hyperactive society addicted to instant gratification? Or will the industry be forced to turn out McFashion to survive?

The death of Broadway has been predicted for more years than I care to remember; and yet, despite financial and artistic reversals, it continues to pick itself up, dust itself off and come back time and time again. Like the theater, change and innovation are the lifeblood of fashion. This is, after all, an industry which must ultimately give women what they want or suffer the consequences.

Luscious Lips for Fall

2010-09-29T15:23:00.004-04:00

In Helena Frith Powell’s delightful book All You Need to Be Impossibly French, the pre-pubescent author meets Sophie, a Parisienne so impossibly chic that she is, so to speak, the word made flesh. Sophie tells her that all she really needs to be a Frenchwoman are two lipsticks and a lover. And one of those two lipsticks should be a luscious shade of red. This simple, straightforward statement puts the priorities of the Frenchwoman into perspective.

When Eurodisney (now known as Disneyland Paris) opened to the north of Paris in 1992, my friend, Sandrine, thought it might be fun to work there. Upon applying for a position, she was told that female employees were not permitted to wear red lipstick. Her choice was either pale pink or none at all. “Quelle horreur!”she responded and walked out on the spot, as did many more like her, until the Disney people finally came to their senses and changed the policy.

Some form of enhancement of lip color has been around since Cleopatra smeared a concoction mixed with iodine and poisonous mercury onto her lips to give her pucker a lethal punch.

The first modern lipstick in a metal tube, the product of a French chemist, was born in the 1920s and baptized “Rouge Baiser” or “Red Kiss.” And at about that same time in America, the Revson brothers created a new company and launched Revlon’s own line of luscious red lip colors followed a decade later by nail polish to match. While there is some question as to whether “Revlon Red” predated “Rouge Baiser,” there is no question about their effect. Suddenly, for the price of a tube of lipstick, any woman could look and feel like a Hollywood film star.

Fall is the perfect season to find your perfect shade of red. Overnight, cosmetics counters have gone from the bright pastels of summer to the golden russets and deep burgundies of fall, and somewhere within that range of rich colors is a red lipstick with your name on it. For those of you “d’un certain âge” or who have full or thin lips and have been told to avoid red altogether, I have only one word to say – “Nonsense.” Simply avoid dark, matte reds and opt for clear, more translucent reds that complement your skin tone. Cool skin tones look best in blue reds (think deep rose) while warm skin tones look best in yellow reds (think juicy tomato).

I found my perfect shade of red, “Poppy,” at the Laura Mercier counter, and every time I slip it on I think about impossibly chic Sophie and wonder if she is right. Are two lipsticks and a lover all a woman really needs? Probably not, but it’s a great place to start!

Autumn in New York

2010-09-20T23:36:00.002-04:00

Paris has my heart but New York has my soul. Outside my window the dogwood leaves have already turned to flame and will soon be swirling around my feet as the autumn breezes begin to stir. Something inside me is also beginning to stir.

Somewhere in the distance Old Blue Eyes is singing “Autumn in New York.”

“It’s autumn in New York. It’s good to live it again.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WohRBN5oflE

And nobody wears the colors of autumn better than New York.

If you’re going to fall in love, this is the time and this is the place to do it, because this is the time of year when New Yorkers fall in love with their City all over again. You can feel that tingle in the air as they reconnect with each other over cocktails, romantic dinners for two and long walks in Central Park.

Ah! There’s nothing like sipping a cocktail in the Rainbow Room. In Paris, I have an apéritif before dinner. In New York, I have a cocktail. New Yorkers love their cocktails, and none captures the mystique of the Big Apple better than the cocktail that bears its name – the Manhattan.

Take some whiskey, sweet vermouth, add a dash of Angostura bitters, stir over ice, strain into a chilled glass and garnish with a Maraschino cherry. And if you can drink more than one and walk away in a straight line, there’s a role waiting for you on “Mad Men.”

Stories of who made the first Manhattan are part of the fabric of New York legends, but I know who made the best -- my mother’s Aunt Emily. A tall, elegant woman who worked in the fashion business, Emily smoked, drank and loved the company of men. They, in turn, loved her Manhattans. After Emily’s death, her sister, Annie, revealed the secret of Aunt Emily’s Killer Manhattans. She marinated the cherries in the whiskey and vermouth before serving.

“It’s autumn in New York. It’s good to live it again.”

Fashion Week in New York – A Few Quick Thoughts

2010-09-17T17:36:00.010-04:00

September 17th, the day after the last of New York Fashion Week festivities, and I am sifting through materials about what was seen and heard and what the fashionistas think it all means. The ultimate arbiter of that meaning, of course, will be the consumer. By spring Fall Fashion Week hits and their variations will have passed from runway to store rack to the hanger in your closet. That’s my definition of a hit. The misses will either be forgotten or consigned to the backs of desperate fashion wannabees.

While the fashion industry traditionally wrinkles its collective nose when the discussion turns to the dreaded “w” word (“wearable”), more and more of them are getting the message. And the message is that most women lead complicated lives and want uncomplicated clothes with longevity, which means classic, versatile, high quality at a reasonable price. In short..........wearable! Is that too much to ask? Apparently, Donna Karan didn’t think so. DKNY was her response to this need in 1989 when she sent her DKNY line down the runway for the first time. The response was overwhelmingly positive and the fashion world took note.

In increasing numbers, high-end designers are developing secondary lines of wearable, affordable clothing and their visibility on the runway continues to grow. Last week in New York was no exception.

Known for his dramatic evening gowns, Zac Posen made the decision to showcase his secondary line, Z Spoke, last week on the runway in place of his main collection.

The Z Spoke line is a less expensive, casual line that features uncomplicated, easy-to-wear jersey knits and fun fabrics. T-shirts start at $80. Accessories will be added to the line shortly.

Mr. Posen will be showing his main collection in Paris where he can give full rein to his theatricality, no doubt before a more appreciative audience. You don’t go to a Paris show for a New York dose of reality; you go for that intoxicating whiff of Gallic drama.

Badgley Mischka decided to send both its couture collection and secondary line, Mark + James, down the runway together last week.

Co-designer Mark Badgley is quoted in the Wall Street Journal as saying, “It’s opened up a whole new world of customers.” Badgley Mischka’s traditional customer is “not just buying couture. She’s buying one couture piece and then four or five pieces from the lower-priced contemporary collection.”

From a business and marketing standpoint, it made perfect sense to combine the two lines in one show.

Although designers run the risk of cheapening their high-end lines in order to market their secondary lines, you will be seeing more of them willing to run that risk. If managed carefully, it will be a win-win situation for both designer and consumer. The former gets to increase his loyal following, while the latter gets to add something wearable to her wardrobe. Will the dreaded “w” word one day lose its stigma in the fashion world? What do you think?

Fall Fashion Flash 2010 – Shoes!!

2010-09-10T16:48:00.018-04:00

Having given my fall/winter handbags a good going over (see previous Post – “Fall Fashion Flash 2010 – Handbags”), my shoes are next on the program, which takes considerably more time, because I own many, many pairs. It’s not just that I adore them, which I do, I am obsessed with collecting them for a very practical reason. I wear a Cinderella-sized 4, which means that every time I find a pair of shoes in my size (Cue the heavenly chorus!!!), I am convinced that this is the last pair of shoes I will ever find in my size, so I buy them in every color. Does that sound a bit silly and paranoid, not to mention expensive? Allow me to explain.

In my lifetime, the foot size of the average woman has increased dramatically. My 5’8” Mother wore a size 6 ½ and was considered to be average. One day I will wake up and find the shoe industry no longer makes shoes in size 4, since there will probably be only two or three women left on the planet with feet that size. It is for that dark day that I have been preparing my shoe stash. You see? I am neither silly nor paranoid. I just like to be prepared. Some people stash canned goods in their basement in anticipation of a cataclysmic world event. I prefer to stash shoes.

So, what will I add to my stash this fall?

Without any doubt and with yet again a very significant nod to “Mad Men” and the 60s, the “it” shoe of this season is the kitten-heeled pump. The classic kitten-heeled pump from that era has a pointed toe and a slender heel of about 2” and nobody wore them more beautifully than Audrey Hepburn.

My first pair of heels looked exactly like the ones Audrey is wearing here in this shot from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” Like your first kiss, you never forget your first pair of heels.

(l to r: Jimmy Choo $695; Prada $595)

For those of you who are loathe to totter about in stilettos, the kitten heel gives your foot and leg all the grace and elegance without any of the pain of its more vertiginous sister.

It goes with everything from your prim and proper A-line skirt to your sexiest skinny jeans. And when it comes to the LBD, well, other than a glass of champagne, it’s the perfect accessory.

You will be seeing lots of furry boots this fall and winter. Some are actually quite flattering.

The Ralph Lauren boots on the left look exactly like a pair my Mother wore in the 60s, although hers had a bit less fur.

The Thakoon boots on the right look more like a shoe with an ankle muff to me, but they are adorable nonetheless.

These are both hits in my book.

There are, of course, the inevitable misses…………….

My first words upon seeing these Chanel boots cannot be shared with you in a polite family forum such as this, no matter how much they made my husband laugh. Suffice it to say they had something to do with two large Pomeranians doing something rather rude to her legs.

Other than that, I have nothing to say about these boots, except that you will no doubt see them, or something similar, on the streets of New York this fall.

They will be worn by those who can carry them off and by those who cannot.

Thigh-high boots are big again in leather and in suede (l to r: Berardo, Jacobs, Hermès & Marant).

I find the suede boots much softer and more feminine than the leather thigh-highs, which have a vaguely dominatrix look about them…… unless of course that’s what you are going for.

Ideally, you should be at least 5’10”, 5’ of which is legs, and weigh about 100 lbs. if you want to wear these. For those of you who are not, you need to keep proportion in mind if you want to pull off this look.

Keep your tops tunic-top short and make sure some leg shows in between, whether or not you opt for colored/patterned tights. For chilly evenings, a long coat (mid-calf or longer) worn open or draped over your shoulders will add a bit of drama to the ensemble.

As for me, I will definitely be adding to my shoe stash this fall………..kitten heels in every color!!!

Fall Fashion Flash 2010 - Handbags

2010-09-07T18:01:00.015-04:00

Labor Day weekend is behind us, summer is officially over and New York is buzzing with activity. Fashion Week 2010 begins on Thursday. While I will keep an eye on the goings on in the Big Apple, I will use that time to give my own Fall/Winter wardrobe a good going over. Yes, I do, indeed, practice what I preach. I like to start with the fun stuff and then build slowly to a crescendo of activity as I move through my closet. The first thing I always look over are my handbags.

Our handbags get quite a beating. We overstuff them, we drop them on the floor and we expose them to the vagaries of the elements. And, yet, we truly love them, and our relationships with our favorite handbags last longer than most celebrity marriages.

We rarely go anywhere without them. In fact, it was the presence of a handbag and the absence of its owner that finally convinced Grace Kelly in Rear Window that Jimmy Stewart’s suspicions that his neighbor had killed his wife were probably correct. As she explained it, every woman has a favorite handbag and she never goes anywhere without it.

There does come a time in every relationship when we have to face the fact that our faithful handbag is now more shabby than chic and needs to go to its richly deserved reward.

Time to go shopping for a new one, and there’s no time like the present to see what’s on offer this fall.

No one seems to be sure when or even if this economic downturn will turn around, but according to the Wall Street Journal the handbag industry, top to bottom, is still doing very well, thank you very much. I told you we love our handbags.

Let me show you a few of my favorite fall finds.

The Tignanello Polish Pocket Convertible Satchel (Leather, 10" W x 9" H x 5-3/4" D) at Macy’s, comes in three colors, but this warm cognac speaks for itself without need of embellishment.

Its clean, classic lines make it the perfect go-anywhere, do-anything bag. And at $110.99, it’s a great price.

The Aegean Oversized Flap Clutch (Silk Shantung, 15” L x 9.5” H x 1” D with strap) at Couture Candy, in gorgeous Peacock is a little pricey at $228, but every girl needs a great clutch, n’est-ce pas?

With this bag in your beautifully manicured hands and a simple gold cuff on your wrist, you can command the room.

Speaking of wrist jewelry, this is Tiffany’s new Bracelet Bag (Satin, 8.25″W x 4.75″D x 4.75″H), shown here in their signature blue color. The handle doubles as a bracelet, hence the name.

It seems that Tiffany & Co. have seen the hand(bag)writing on the wall and have decided to become a serious player in the luxury handbag game.

This little gem will set you back $795. Will the Tiffany bag one day rival the Hermès bag? Only time will tell.

Which reminds me, did I ever tell you about how I got my Kelly Bag? No? Well, that’s a tale for another time. Stay tuned……

Fashion Flashbacks!! The Shrimp and The Twig

2010-08-30T19:23:00.021-04:00

Too old for hot flashes......old enough for Flashbacks! And lately I’ve been having them like mad, Flashbacks that is, every time I catch an episode of “Mad Men” or see its influence on this fall’s fashions.

I came of age during the 60s, and every time I think of that decade two fashion icons instantly leap to mind -- Jean Shrimpton and Twiggy. Their careers bookend the 60s and their fabulous faces and forms embody the beauty zeitgeist of the period.

Jean Shrimpton, affectionately known as “The Shrimp,” burst onto the modeling scene in 1960 and is widely considered to be the world’s first Top Model – just ask her successor, Twiggy, who considered her a mentor and inspiration.

After helping to launch the miniskirt, she became the official symbol of Swinging London. Everything she did was news, and she was endlessly photographed at all the trendiest places on the arm of every drop-dead, gorgeous hunk in the music and theatrical world.

Like every young girl my age, I worshiped her – collected her pictures, devoured every news item about her and bought the products she endorsed. My first lipstick was from the Yardley Slicker collection. It was a pale pink confection called “Pink Parfait” and it was………....wait for it……………..frosted!! I know, I know, but it was the 60s and we frosted everything – our lips, our eyes, our hair. Besides, most 13-year-old girls don’t start out with “Vixen Red.” You have to work up to that.

Twiggy, née Lesley Hornby, was dubbed “The Face of 1966” by the Daily Express and by 1967 was an internationally acknowledged Top Model. Whereas in the early 60s The Shrimp had replaced the more mature, curvaceous models of the 50s with her youthful, coltish curves, Twiggy’s androgynous, pre-pubescent charms would become “The Look” of the late 60s.

Although The Shrimp would always occupy a special place in my heart, my girlfriends and I were just wild about Twiggy. We chopped off our hair, we wore brown oxford ties, and we affected her knocked-kneed pose to the exasperation of my Mother who kept reminding me how much money she’d spent on ballet lessons and “now look at the way you’re standing!!!!” But I didn’t care. My Mother was clearly too old to get the whole Twiggy thing.

So, what has become of my two favorite faces of the 60s? Well………………………

After seeing the handwriting on the wall in the 70s, Jean Shrimpton made a tactful and graceful retreat from the camera.

In 1979, she married photographer Michael Cox and together they bought the Abbey Hotel in Cornwall, UK, which they still own.

As a model, Shrimpton was known for her work ethic -- never late, never temperamental, always professional. Somewhat bemused by her own success, she always insisted that it was the makeup and lighting that made her look beautiful. I find that incredibly hard to believe.

In fact, although there must be thousands of gorgeous photos of The Shrimp in public and private collections all over the world, not one adorns the walls of the Abbey Hotel.

These days, Twiggy is still very much in the public eye. She models, has hosted her own TV shows in the UK, has been a judge on “America’s Next Top Model,” endorses products, and, in case you hadn’t noticed, she has finally filled out.

Following the sudden death of her first husband in 1983, she married her current husband in 1984. She devotes a great deal of her time to charitable causes, such as breast cancer.

But, what I really love about this survivor of the beauty wars is that she has made a point of being in the public eye without worrying about the odd wrinkle or two, to which I say,

Long Live The Twig.

Fall Fashion Flashes

2010-08-25T17:57:00.036-04:00

New York – The End of an Era?? FLASH!! Fashion Week in New York (Sept. 9 to 16) will not be taking place in Bryant Park (see AP photo), but in and around Lincoln Center.

But that’s not all that’s new. Elaborate printed invitations have gone the way of….….well…….last season’s trends. Invitations were sent via e-mail and guests received bar coded confirmations which they must pass through scanners to gain admittance to the Shows. Anna Wintour, don’t leave home without it.

Can a market for all those beautiful vintage invitations, some little works of art in their own right, be far behind? Keep an eye on e-bay.

(l to r: Céline/Dries van Noten)

Prim and Proper Ladies – FLASH!!
With more than a passing nod to “Mad Men”, the lady-like, buttoned down look will be everywhere this Fall. It’s a clean, classic look which can be easily accessorized, or not, and suits almost every body type; however, if you have a little too much tummy and do not have a clearly defined waist, you might want to avoid Dries van Noten’s little shirt waist dress, which is designed to draw attention to a slender waistline.

They’re Back!! – FLASH!!
And just when you thought you’d seen the last of them, pantsuits are back. No novelty for those of us who wore them to the office in the 70s and 80s, the new version is designed to appeal to 20-somethings and 30-somethings for whom the whole idea of tops matching bottoms is a novel concept – like TOTALLY!!!

(l to r: Armani/Chloé/Valentino)

And, just in case you’re thinking you can just pull your old pantsuits out of the back of the closet and be good to go, think again. That boxy jacket with shoulder pads the size of a small Latin American country just will not cut it this Fall. The new silhouette is sleeker, jackets are fitted, fabrics are lighter and unlined and they’ve added a welcome bit of stretch.

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, it may be time to rediscover ‘em.

A Quick Fix for Your Fall Wardrobe

2010-08-20T14:16:00.003-04:00

Very soon we will be saying au revoir to lazy summer afternoons and bonjour to busy autumn days. Vacations will be but a memory (boo!) and the kids will be back in school (woohoo!). Now is the time to do an inventory of your fall/winter wardrobe (boo!) and to find out, drum roll please………….if your go-to black pencil skirt still fits (woohoo?? boohoo?) In short, now is the time for a little closet therapy – what to keep, what to donate/throw away and what needs a little TLC or sprucing up.

What would you say if I told you that the quickest, easiest and most economical way to change the look and add a dash of je ne sais quoi to a dress, blouse, jacket or skirt is to change the buttons??

Would you say, “Lead me to the nearest fabric store???”

Buttons have been around since the Bronze Age. For those of you not up on your History, that’s about 3,000 years. Until the 16th century they were mainly decorative, and then a clever French tailor looped some thread onto a piece of material, sewed a button onto another piece and voilà the hitherto decorative button now had a practical purpose.

A century after that, the first button holes made their appearance and voilà voilà --- a marriage made in heaven!!!

For some, the button simply holds two pieces of fabric together, but for the French, this magical accessory has the power to transform a petite ginette, or simple little dress, into a fashion statement.

From the petites mains who spend their days sewing jeweled buttons onto haute couture creations, to Maman who passes down her box of special buttons to her daughter to be used and reused for generations to come, the French know what the perfect button can do for a garment.

As a little girl, every time I opened my Mother’s Button Box, it was like peering into a treasure chest of dazzling jewels. A former model and opera singer, my Mother was never happier than when she had a needle and thread in her hands. From this stylish, glamorous woman, I learned about fit, fabric and how to select the perfect button.

And so, when it came time for me to marry, there was simply no question as to who would make my wedding ensemble. I would design it and my Mother would create it.

The lace for my bodice and veil came from Alençon, but the seed pearls and beading that were hand sewn, one by one, with endless patience and love, through the heat of a stifling August, in a small sewing room at the top of the stairs, came from a black velvet pouch in my Mother’s Button Box.

That velvet pouch had been lying in my Mother’s Button Box waiting for me since I was a little girl.

So the next time you pass a fabric store, stop in see and what treasures you can add to your Button Box.

If you don’t have one……………..start one!!

Your daughter and your daughter’s daughters will thank you………..and think of you………..every time they open it.

How to Become Parisian in One Hour

2010-08-09T16:10:00.001-04:00

Did you know that the hottest One Man Show in Paris is in English? Every night French stand-up comic Olivier Giraud teaches an English speaking audience “How to Become Parisian in One Hour.” In his hilariously insightful show, which could easily be re-titled, “How to Become Insufferably Arrogant in 10 Easy Lessons,” Parisians may be the main target, but Americans and fellow Europeans become great comic fodder for collateral damage. And Parisians, who normally take themselves rather seriously, have been flocking to the show to see what all the fuss is about and to laugh at themselves.

Giraud’s imitation of the Parisienne walking into a nightclub with the proper look of disdain, pursed lips and a toss of the hair is worth the price of admission alone.

Naturally the arrogant waiter gets the Giraud treatment, and I don’t know anyone who has visited or lives in France who does not have an arrogant waiter story, or two. I have many of my own, and this is one of my favorites.

One evening in Paris, my husband and I sat down at the terrasse of a café for a bite. We were tired and it was late, even by Parisian standards. The café was full inside and out and the busy waiter threw two menus at us as he whizzed past. We had barely opened the menus when he reappeared stamping his foot in annoyance that we had not yet made a selection. The minute my husband spoke to me in English, the waiter rolled his eyes and stalked off.

As I looked into the café, I saw our waiter sitting at the bar knocking back shots of Armagnac. “Well,” I said to my husband, “this is a new one. I’ve never seen this before.” We may have been tired, but I was not about to give up without a fight. Besides, now I was intrigued.

By the time the waiter returned, I had decided on my plan of action – a two-pronged charm offensive à la française-américaine. I would couple my French language skills with that quintessential American quality which can be found in abundance only in America – Niceness. The French can disarm you with their charm, which they can turn on and off at will, but Americans are by far the nicest, most helpful, most sympathetic people in the world, and over the years I have seen more than one haughty Frenchman crumble in the face of it.

As he stood there in front of us tapping his foot, I looked at him, smiled sweetly and said in French, “Monsieur, you are clearly having a bad day. I’m so sorry.” The next thing I knew we were having an Oprah moment. His girlfriend had moved out the night before and a colleague had not shown up for work that day. Not only did he serve us beautifully after that, but it was Armagnacs all around on the house after dinner.

If you are going to Paris for the first time and plan on eating in a restaurant, here are a few things to keep in mind concerning the Paris waiter:

1) He is not an out-of-work actor/model/singer/musician as is usually the case in the USA. He is a professional who knows his business, which is food and wine and how to serve them;

2) As a tourist/customer, you are seen as an annoyance, ranging from minor to major depending on your behavior and his mood that day. Try not to take it personally; and

3) He will always reserve his best service for his regular customers, which, from his point of view, is good business. You will probably not return but they will.

Olivier Giraud’s One Man Show “How to Become Parisian in One Hour” can be seen at the Théâtre de la Main d’Or in the 11th arrondissement in Paris. For a little preview, click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2fkM9VhE50

The Princess Bride

2010-08-03T21:47:00.001-04:00

Despite the odds against “happily ever after,” every year thousands of young couples gaze into each other’s eyes and swear eternal love and devotion; and Summer is High Season in the wedding business.

While the image of the demure blushing bride may have been replaced by that of the fire-breathing bridezilla aided and abetted by a multi-million dollar wedding industry bent on convincing her she can have anything she wants no matter how expensive, ridiculous or tasteless, some things do not change. Little girls and not so little girls still dream about their wedding day, and if you ask them what they want to look like on that special day, they will all tell you the same thing --- “I want to look like a Princess.”

And so, on a bright June afternoon, my husband and I are seated on white folding chairs on the perfectly manicured lawn of an exclusive country club awaiting the appearance of yet another breathless Princess Bride. No expense has been spared – designer gowns, professional make-up artists, a celebrity hairdresser and his staff called in for the occasion. No detail has been left to chance – except for one!

The music begins, the Bridesmaids follow the Flower Girl strewing rose petals in their path, and a tiny tingle of excitement runs through the assembled crowd as we approach the moment we have all been waiting for. Like a gossamer vision, the Bride appears on her Father’s arm and begins her slow procession down the aisle in a beaded ball gown so magnificent that every woman in the audience gasps. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes obvious that this is more dress than our Princess Bride can handle. The heavy, voluminous skirt seems to have a mind of its own and is becoming increasingly uncooperative with each step – now veering sideways, now lurching forward. Needless to say, we all breathe a sigh of relief when she reaches the safety of her bridegroom waiting under the rose-covered gazebo.

Ladies, the perfect ball gown does not a perfect Princess make. It’s not enough to talk the talk; you have to know how to……….. walk the walk, so to speak.

On a June morning in 1953, this one cold and rainy, another young Princess is about to be crowned Queen of England at Westminster Abbey. For weeks, Elizabeth and her six Maids of Honor have repeatedly gone over every detail of the ceremony that will be broadcast live around the world.

She has spent hours parading around Buckingham Palace with lengths of sheeting attached to her shoulders to get the feel of the long velvet train that will go over the heavily beaded coronation gown. She even wears the seven-pound crown while working and taking tea in order to get accustomed to the feel and weight of it.

For the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, no detail has been left to chance. The world will be watching.

In the press of pre-wedding activities, set aside some time to practice walking, sitting and even climbing stairs in that fabulous dress you fell in love with. Get comfortable with how it feels, how it moves and how you move in it. It is time well spent on a detail that can make all the difference.

While the world will probably not be watching as you walk down the aisle at your wedding, the world of people you know and love will be.

They will be there to see their Princess Bride and to get caught up in the magic of her special day. Don’t break the spell.

Fruits of Summer

2010-07-28T17:29:00.003-04:00

Sunday lunch in France is still very much a family affair, and whether you eat off a bare wooden table in a guinguette on the banks of the Seine or off white damask in your Aunt’s fragrant garden in the country, the meal always ends with fresh fruit. And in the summer, fresh fruit and herbs are at their most delicious.

I can still remember the taste of the fraises des bois (wild strawberries) that grew only a few yards from my Tante Jeanette’s kitchen door. We would pick them right before lunch and when the meal was over, bring them to the table with a bowl of water. After a quick dip in the water, we’d pop them into our mouths where their burst of ripe sweetness would make everyone smile with delight.

This wonderfully light dessert from France Today was created by Chef Stéphane Pitré at Chez Cécile in Paris. It’s an intriguing marriage of summer fruit (sweet) and herbs (savory) and is simplicity itself to make. Tante Jeanette would have approved. Bon appétit !!

Strawberries with Aromatic Herbs

2 cups water
18 oz. sugar
1 bunch basil
1 bunch chives
1 bunch mint
18 oz. Strawberries

Boil water and sugar in a pan until they form a syrup. Allow to cool in the refrigerator. Mince the chives and keep cool in a bowl. Do the same with the basil and mint, each in separate bowls.

When the syrup has cooled, pour an equal amount into each of the three bowls of herbs and allow to marinate for 2 hours.

Cut the strawberries into cubes and arrange them in 12 tall glasses. Pour the mint syrup into 4 of the glasses, the basil syrup into 4 others, and the chive syrup into the remaining 4.

Garnish with the appropriate herbs and serve right away, 3 glasses per person.

Mad Women and Their Hats

2010-07-26T15:33:00.002-04:00

When my Goddaughter, Vicki, invited me to join her for tea in the City I was delighted, particularly when she said that it would be a “proper” tea, meaning Ladies are to wear hats. Hats have always held a special place in my heart. Having come of age during the 50s and 60s, I remember how essential they were to a well-dressed woman’s wardrobe.

My Mother, like most women of her generation, adored hats. In her youth she had modeled them and I never knew her to leave the house without one, whether she was on her way to work, a shopping trip with girlfriends or rushing out the door in a rustle of perfumed silk for an evening with my Father.

She firmly believed that there was nothing like a new hat to lift a woman’s spirits.

And so, on a Friday afternoon, I take the train to Philadelphia to have tea with my Goddaughter. I am wearing one of my favorite summer cloche hats in lightweight cotton – perfect for a hot summer’s day in the City.

As I walk through the streets of Philadelphia people stop, stare and smile. Some make comments. A lady stops her car and rolls down her window to yell, “Love your hat!” A little girl tugs on Mom’s skirt and asks, “Can I have a hat like that?”

In a sea of shorts, tee shirts and flip flops, a Lady in a hat stands out.

As I walk into the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel, I see my beautiful Goddaughter, Vicki, in a fuchsia picture hat, her Grandmother, Mrs. B., in a wide-brimmed straw with coral flowers, her Cousin Mackenzie, white flowers adorning her lustrous dark hair, and her Friend Catherine in a lemon yellow confection that would wow them at the Derby.

Have I stepped back into the elegant, gracious era of my youth?

The Swann Lounge is bzzz bzzzz bzzzzing over the Ladies with the Hats. How delicious! One gentleman asks to take our picture. When asked why we are all wearing hats, we simply smile mysteriously in response. An air of mystery must be maintained until a Lady removes her hat. It is nothing less than de rigueur.

So, the next time you get together with the special Ladies in your life, put on your best hats and take a walk through the City.

Hmmmm…..a great hat.....admiring glances.....summer in the City… who knows where all that can lead??

Ahhhh, the power of the perfect chapeau!!

How to Wear a Great Hat:
Kailee is modeling a beautiful chapeau from the Paris Spring Collection.

Note the jaunty angle and the artful insouciance with which Kailee wears it.

A great hat needs to be worn with confidence and a dash of panache.

Kailee will soon be available to answer all your millinery questions by BLOG. Stay tuned.

Aging Gracefully "à la française"

2010-07-19T13:37:00.003-04:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/15/fashion/15French.html?pagewanted=1&_r=2&emc=eta1

The American author of this article attempts to unravel the mystery of aging gracefully "à la française." She gives us lots of useful information on the French woman’s eating habits, beauty routines, spa therapies and exercise regimens or lack thereof (they walk as much as possible, which is not hard to do if you live in Paris), all of which can be found in any of hundreds of witty and excellent books on the subject of what makes the French woman tick.

In the end, however, she never quite answers the question and ends up by saying something fairly anemic and dime-store romantic about the fact that she loves and is loved by her family. That’s all fine as far as it goes, but it doesn’t get us any closer to unraveling the mystery.

First of all, the author makes the mistake of asking French women directly to share their secrets. That’s like asking a great chef for his most famous recipe. Even if he agrees to share it, he will always leave out some crucial ingredient so that no matter how many times you prepare the dish, it’s never as good. Likewise, a French woman will never divulge this sort of intimate information about herself to an outsider. She may toss you a tiny "amuse bouches" to whet your appetite, but you will never get to the meat of the matter.

French women are highly competitive with other women on every level. It’s bred into them from birth by their Mothers. So they are scrupulously discreet about what they choose to reveal even to their closest friends. It quite simply goes against the French grain to be too open about anything personal, much less intimate, unless, of course, it has to do with sex, which is freely and openly chatted and joked about with perfect strangers at every dinner party.

Second of all, the author makes the mistake of not going to the one person who has made a life-long study of the French woman and whose knowledge of her is encyclopedic -- the French man. My Father could have taught a Master Class on the subject. While he may not be the most faithful of husbands, the French man adores the French woman – the way she looks, the way she smells, the way she moves. While reminiscing about his late wife, an elderly Frenchman once told me that to this day he misses the smell of her hair on the pillow in the morning.

So, what is the French woman’s secret? Why does she appear to age more gracefully than her American sister? The author gets within a hair’s breadth of finding the answer to the mystery when she discusses the French woman’s enjoyment (and, yes, there are days when it really does feels like a chore) of the beauty rituals that keep her looking her best; however, I don’t blame the author for not quite getting it. The answer is contained in a word that has long since slipped off the American woman’s radar screen – Femininity.

By the end of the 60s, the pursuit of Femininity had been moved from the Virtue to the Vice side of the Feminist orthodoxy. It was deemed not only to be frivolous, but downright subversive. The French woman sailed through the last four decades relatively unscathed by American-style Feminism. As a result, she continues not only to age gracefully, but to live her whole life as gracefully as she can to the delight of the French man. Femininity underpins everything she is and does. Her individual version of Femininity may be classic or quirky, but she owns it, she works it, and she will go to the grave with it.

A healthy dash of Femininity might just be the missing ingredient the author was looking for.

How to Mix and Match

2010-07-19T13:07:00.004-04:00

The cooling breezes of Spring made a brief appearance before leaving the stage to Summer’s haze. And for you fair-skinned, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed blondes out there, this is your Season. You positively blossom in the colors of Summer.

But for all of us, it is time to put away our more serious winter solids and pull out our fun prints, stripes and florals and learn how to mix and match them.

Q: Can I put patterns together in an outfit and not look as if I got dressed in the dark?
A: Absolutely!! And here are three examples of how it’s done and why each one works.

This young lady has mixed patterns and textures -- a black-and-white polka dot top with a purple pin-striped cotton skirt, a fringed scarf in mustard and neutral shoes.

What makes this outfit work is that the patterns do not fight each other either in color or size. The small scale of the prints keeps everything in proportion, with visual interest coming from the pop of color in one accessory - the scarf.

Here a sweater in vibrant red, patterned top, solid bottom, is worn over a jersey dress in bold black and white stripes. This breezy little outfit has “Summer” written all over it from the stripes to one of the classic color combos of Summer – black, white and red. The over-sized, neutral canvas tote says this young Lady is ready for a weekend adventure on land or sea.

Aside from the great color combination, what really makes this outfit work is the solid banding of red on the bottom of the sweater which adds interest and visually separates the bold stripe from the smaller pattern on the top of the sweater.

Not for beginners!! But, it’s really well done. This very confident young Lady is wearing what, at first, seems to be an outrageous mix of colors and patterns – black and white striped top, brown plaid pencil skirt, brightly patterned scarf and a bold red trench. Yet…..somehow it all works. Why??

The pieces are all traditional, down to the classic black pumps – nothing quirky or trendy. But what really makes this outfit work is the bold red trench. The lesson here is that if you are going to mix strong patterns together, you need one really strong color in enough quantity to serve as a focal point.

Feel those Fashionista juices flowing again? Banish the Summer Wardrobe Hum-Drums before they get started!!! Start Mixing and Matching!!!

Photos courtesy of I-Village

La Vie en Corail

2010-07-15T00:19:00.001-04:00

According to my Fashion Forward Friends (my “FFFs”) in the City of Lights, Parisians won’t be seeing "la vie en rose" this summer, but "la vie en corail." Coral is the "IT” color for summer and IT is everywhere – from clothes and accessories to the tips of elegant Parisienne fingers and toes. And at a cool $1.00 per bottle, E.L.F.’s Coral nail polish is literally the biggest bang for the buck you’ll find anywhere this summer.

Coral is the great chameleon of color. There is a perfect shade out there for everyone. Pair it with cool tones and it takes on a pinkish hue; pair it with warm tones and it takes on an orange tint. And when it comes to makeup, a light dusting of color on the cheeks gives even the sallowest complexion a healthy, sun-kissed glow.

Isn’t time you started seeing “la vie en corail,” too?