Hollie and Sean got married!

Our friends Hollie and Sean, owners of a very well-photographed apartment I often post on here, got married last weekend in Northern California!  I’m always complimentary of Hollie’s amazing eye for style and the wedding exceeded even my wildest expectations.  Sorry for the picture overload, but everything was so beautiful, I sort of forgot to include people!  Fortunately everyone took loads of photos.  I’ll be sure to link to some of the great blogs and albums that DID remember to get some mug shots!

Taken by the lovely Joanna on Keep Feeling Fascination, her beautiful blog.

Hollie gave us all a job, which was a great idea, since we all wanted to help!  Here’s an apple caramel tart with candied pecans I made for after the ceremony.

Ever-innovative, Hollie and Sean opted for amazing scarves as take-homes.  Their initials are embroidered ever-so-small on the corner of the lapel. 

Moses and Jack, the official wedding photographer, looking chic.

Raspberry and blackberry pie, 2 of 3.

Farah and Luma in their pretty, draped gowns.

Stella, the flower girl’s tiny moccasins.  

Mason jar drinking glasses next to Luma and Farah’s beautiful mixed drinks, complete with pansy petals and fruit.

Beth and Luma trudging up the hill.

Kelly and Sweet Pea (baby Penelope, the other official flower girl).

Stella and her mom, Amy, sharing a moment wrapped in their new scarves.


Partners in crime, Liam and Max…looking ready to do something…

The beautiful decorations.

A tee-pee Moses constructed free-hand.

Miss Joanna and Avril, all smiles and red lips.

We all stayed in the house for two beautiful nights of togetherness and magic.  Thanks to Hollie and Sean again for inviting us!  We were so inspired!  (And overwhelmed!  We have a TON of stuff to organize before we get married!)


Space Envy.


This is apparently in Paris.  I generally try to keep my blog space relatively positive, but COME ON.  Really?  How’s that possible?  I walked home last night from the train to 7 or 12 local news vans.  Being the nosy spawn of a Southern lady that I am, I asked what the fuss was.  “Oh, they think they found that guy who’s been attacking women all over.”  I’m not sure if I’m relieved or concerned this happened a few feet from my front door.  Maybe both.  Either way, I woke up this morning and spotted the loft of my dreams on a mailing list we subscribe to…fingers crossed.

And here’s how I’d decorate it.  (Again, this is the place that evidently exists in Paris.  I say “evidently” out of jealously rather than disbelief.  I’m well aware the world is full of people with amazing spaces.  It’s one of the many things that keeps me getting up at 6 am every morning).

Images from here

Mid-morning Break

Taking a second out of my indexing to give a little thought to Babe Paley, former New York socialite and winner multiple years of “best dressed.”  Oh those nails alone can take your breath away.  The cigarette is so fantastically chic, too–though on a realistic note, she died at age 63 from lung cancer.  I’m sure a 2-pack a day habit doesn’t support healthy lungs.

C.Z. Guest, sporting white on white and some amazing flats, accessorized with a little dog is phenomenal, too.  It looks like she’s visiting Hearst Castle.  Maybe one of those gold sequins frocks they have laying out on the guest bungalow beds was for her…

I never get tired of Carolina Herrera.  Before I ever know a designer brand name (other than Vuitton), I had to walk by the upper East Side Herrera store for the train from my first apartment.  I’d stare and stare at those gowns and, all fashion-whims aside, I think I’d still pick those drapes, folds and fabrics over any other.  The Jackie O. in me wins out over any more daring notions I might employ.

I don’t even need to say anything, except maybe that I wish I had a sister.  But I have best friends who’re remarkably close, so life goes on.

Guess we know where McQueen got inspiration, huh?  While I’m not SURE this is Givenchy, let’s just make an educated guess…

I omitted a photo of Vreeland and kept David Bowie, largely because I felt they were supporting the same look.

Anderson Cooper.  With his mom.  What-her-name…

I don’t care so much about the Reagans, but I do love LA in the background.  The most style-ish of all…

Duke and Duchess of Windsor.  I love that their best accessories are each other.

All images from here.

Par avion…

Finally AirFrance has realized who their target demographic is: romantic girls predisposed to silly charges on their credit card in order to obtain the idealistic notions they harbor on France, Parisians, feline-insight and yes, of course, a deep-rooted love of ballet.

My dad took me to see the Nutcracker when I was 2.  I was so enthralled, he loves to tell me, I made him allow me to stand on the back rim of the seats in front of us while he held my back, keeping two year-old me in a plank-ish diagonal until I fell asleep propped up and/or standing.  When he was carrying me to the car I told him I wanted to be a ballerina.  He wished me luck, but said, very seriously, to make sure I was “very certain” about my chosen profession as a ballerina, as true ballerinas endured a radical operation called “bunny footing,” which swapped out their normal feet for surgically enhanced (permanent) bunny feet, or toe shoes.  Every time I tell him this story he roars with laughter like the big old bear he is.  Pleased with himself even 27 years later.

The only place to be…

Sometimes things are so beautiful I can’t believe I didn’t think of them first.  Just to stare and stare and stare.  When I see food this beautiful it makes me wish for all those years of McDonalds and Country Kitchen greasy omlettes and potato skin samples back so I could do it over again and use my time to the fullest.  If I only have say, 70 years or so, tops, left to eat, I should have started eating only the best A LONG time ago.

Images from here.