On the Tenth Day of a Feminine Christmas

All over Facebook are folks wishing others Happy New Year.  Many are enhancing their posts with vintage photographs showing people at parties wearing their very finest.  Invariably, someone will lament, "Why can't people dress like that today"?  It is a beautiful thing to see -  grown-ups as we remember them outfitted in stunning formal clothes, but I have my doubts if it will ever swing back that way again. And yet, Instagram devotees seem to gravitate towards those images too so it does seem as though many do want a more elegant way of dressing to be the norm.

Two weeks ago, a friend and I went to a popular local establishment for Sunday brunch.  The dining room was filled with casual dressers as one would expect.  But halfway through our meal three women in their forties were ushered in and seated nearby, all attired in matching pajamas. The hour was after noon.  At first, I was shocked until I realized their clothing choices were not so different than that of the other casual diners:  baggy pants and long shirts with the tails hanging out. I was left with only the question of why women of that age would want to be seen in public wearing pajamas.

I also thought about my mother in her mid-forties and how she dressed at that time.  She was busy taking care of 3 teenagers but when she went out during the day shopping or on errands, she always dressed in nice skirts or pants and a coordinating top or matching jacket.  She didn't have much time for brunching but if she did, I'm certain she would never have worn pajamas.

They say one of the most common dreams is to be caught in public in one's undergarments.  I once had a recurring dream where I was on the busy Main Street of my hometown, wearing only a full slip - a piece of lingerie that is far more covered up than the things some women are wearing to the office these days.  The dream always left me traumatized with embarrassement.

When I was in the fifth grade, our school put on a fashion show to raise money.  The clothes were donated from a sweet little children's clothing shop in town.  For some reason, the sponsors chose my sister and I to wear matching nightgowns, robes, slippers, and carry teddy bears down the runway.  I thought I would die but my mother saw nothing wrong with this - we were children.  The gowns and robes were Victorian in style in a chaste rosebud print.  Looking back, I'm sure we were adorable and I recall the "oooh's and ahhhh's" that elicited forth from the mothers in the small audience.  Today, ten year old's regularly wear pajama bottoms to school.

The beautiful woman toasting us with her champagne glass must surely be dressed beautifully and appropriately.  She's sporting red nails and pearl earrings.  She lives in a world where women knew how to dress for maximum impact and charm.  Actor Glenn Ford, once described his deceased wife by saying, "She stood at the top of the stairs each night looking as pretty as something plucked from the top of a cake".  I'm sure her pajamas never saw the light of day.

I toast you!

On the Ninth Day of a Feminine Christmas

This is one of my favorite feminine Christmas images which I clipped from a British Vogue many years ago.  I apologize for the quality but perhaps you will understand why I saved the picture if I describe what I see in it.  It's really very pretty.

Our lovely model is wearing a beautiful and simple silk nightgown.  The fire is keeping her feet warm and so, she isn't wearing slippers or a robe for that matter.  A quilt has been tossed to the side in case that changes.  Her tea is at the ready, stacked on some ancient books.  It's Christmas Eve.

The picture was a vignette of images called "Portrait of a Lady" which shows the same model decorating her tree and performing other rituals leading up to the holiday.  But what I see here is a woman at peace, contemplating the season and all it means to her.   This may actually be the first time she has had time to stop, slow down and spend time in front of a tree that twinkles like the infinite night sky outside. Perhaps she is missing loved ones who come to back to life at Christmas as thoughts trail back to the past.

I recently read an article written by a young mother who said she is so exhausted when Christmas day finally comes that it is just one big relief.  But she coined a phrase called "Twixtmas", the meaning of which I have now embraced fully.  Twixtmas represents the period of time between Christmas and New Year's when most of the world slows down if only for a bit.  Without realizing it, I have been honoring Twixtmas for several years.

I make it a point to save vacation days between the holidays for sleeping late, recovering from holiday stress, and to have long stretches of reading and resting.  It is my way of balancing the giving with the receiving.  I give myself a present of uninterrupted time at home.  I rarely go anywhere except to take a walk if it isn't snowing or to pick up grocery items at the market.  I say no to most invitations until at least New Year's Eve.  I find Twixtmas to be a magical optimistic fragment of time that I protect and treasure.  Life suspends in midair and becomes otherworldly.

Twixtmas is also a time of sensory delights - the frost, the darkness, the flicker of candles, flowers and music.  I find my soul speaks louder when the world quiets and my intuition and instincts begin communicating with me.  I don't seem to connect as readily with old grief and worry because I hear my resourceful inner voice again.  My friends have told me that Twixtmas has helped some of their family members who have been scattered, dissipated or struggling with illness and sadness.

If you crave more down time after the holiday rush, I recommend the practice of Twixtmas.  Set aside time to cultivate a part of your busy life that inspires stillness and peace and together we will wait out the darkness with tea, firelight, quietude, and silk nightgowns.

On the Eighth Day of a Feminine Christmas

This lady is bringing Christmas to someone, at least it appears so since a tree is her passenger.  I always have Christmas Eve at home with family and some friends.  Sometimes there is a new addition as there was this year, a new beau of a friend.  He enlivened the conversation and fit right in.  The weather wasn't fitting in though with its oddly balmy temperatures and it was the topic on and off all night.  I have to admit the fogginess and mild temperatures threatened to steal my spirit but the moon was full this Christmas Eve, a rarity.  We could just see it through the mist.

I may have looked a bit like our tree carrier yesterday, as I drove to my sister's in my little red car, packed with food and gifts.  There were new guests at her house too, and it really added some seasoning to our day.  I was happy to spend time in her beautiful home with my lovely niece and nephew - two young adults I don't see nearly enough of.

There was no need for a fire, but Debbie's mantel was filled with glowing lights and candles.  The roast was delectable, the wine flowed, and as always, we reminisced about those loved ones who live in our Christmas hearts.

In light of my last post on the feminine gifts of the holiday, I thought I would share mine:

~A small basket handbag for summer with leather straps
~An icy-pink cashmere sweater
~Notecards from Orchard House
~A hook for my powder room door made of crystals
~The newest Downton Abbey coffee table book
~A book on practicing yoga at home
~Three sets of earrings!
~French white bakeware

There were other gifts too and one that touched me deeply.  Three weeks ago, I dropped my phone in the toilet at Marshall's while Christmas shopping and was not able to resurrect it.  My new son-in-law bought me a new one with all the bells and whistles I need along with a plan I no longer have to pay for.  The money I save is spearheaded for my 401K.  Despite some hardships this year (attacking woodpeckers to name one) and some life changes (my daughter getting married and leaving home, ending an old job of 20 years and reinventing myself in a new one), I am truly blessed.

Share your feminine gifts with me if you like.  I'ld like to know!

 Valentine is pleased to present  

OK for Now 

Matt Freedman and Jude Tallichet

 Opening Friday January 15, from 6:00 - 9:00

 The exhibit runs through Sunday February 14

   Please be aware of our new hours and extended run

�All solutions are temporary�

-Anonymous, but everybody seems to say it sooner or later

A lifetime of making a life and art with another person leaves a deep impression on both parties. We are altered by the presence of the other. The scars of our cohabitation become beauty marks, acquired fingerprints that identify us to each other and leave us incompatible with any other person. Nothing is ever settled in any relationship, and everything is up for negotiation, but after awhile a certain understanding is achieved. Lifelong partnerships, those twitchy stalemates with our beloved others, are all too finite, but as long as they do survive they seem to take forever.

OK for Nowis a joint installation of sculptures by Matt Freedman and Jude Tallichet, two artists who have spent 30 years deeply involved in each other�s business, rendering their exhibition a kind of conversation of objects between codependents. Using the vertical space of Valentine Gallery to maximum effect, Freedman and Tallichet deploy their pieces at all levels of the cubic volume of the gallery, from the floor to the ceiling, from wall to wall. The two artists have created flimsy support structures that clumsily present the work of the other via the deployment of any number of rickety racks, awkward altars, gimpy gibbets, tippy tripods and frail flagpoles that display and endanger works drawn from the Jude and Matt�s voluminous inventories.  The effort is to embrace and enhance the cherished work of the cherished companion, but the result all too often is to distort and endanger that which is adored. The effect is both tender and highly unstable.  The pieces seem to be at risk, as is any viewer who might edge cautiously through the space.

Of course, there is no danger.   It�s only art, though the effect is real.  The illusion of looming disaster can provoke as authentic an embodied response as the real thing.  That too is art. The really tricky part was surviving long enough to get here.  

my 7 month pregnancy update

Hello third trimester! Where has the time gone? Every morning I wake up and get a surge of excitement knowing that in less than two months I'll have these babies in my arms and our family will finally be complete after years of infertility. Life is good!

Here's the latest on all things pregnancy:

How far along... 29 weeks 5 days.

Eating... everything! Since I got a prescription for Losec, an acid reflux medication, my love affair with food has returned. And that makes me so damn happy. I want to eat ALL the food and sometimes I do just that (hello two dinners!).

Feeling... exhausted. I've had to cut back on my social activities these past couple of months. I can only handle walking Lucy and one errand/meet-up per day.

Names... we finally agreed on names after months of vetoing and making fun of each others choices. Sadly Milo, Cass and Arlo did not make the cut.

Cravings... so many! Ice to start. I am obsessed with eating ice. Even just writing ice makes me want to crunch on some. Add to that: chocolate milk, pomegranates, avocados, makimono rolls, Mexican tortilla soup, potato pancakes, clam chowder, coffee crisp chocolate bars, bacon, sweet potatoes, egg nog and steamed milk with chestnut praline syrup from Starbucks.

Weight gain... 26 pounds. Thankfully most of it's babies and belly.

Mood... pregnancy hormones have hit me with a vengeance recently, poor Scotty. And they are SO the boss of me! Overall I'm pretty upbeat, happy and excited but I've also had a couple of days where I've been in a slump, bursting into inexplicable tears multiple times. During these episodes, you can find Scott and Lucy hiding in the laundry room.

Anxiety... I mentioned to a former radio colleague that my anxiety has been rearing its ugly head. She had this brilliant response: "I panicked the entire 40 weeks and didn't stop until I was holding my healthy little baby in my arms. Then an entirely new panic set in. I remember a friend of mine telling me to trust. Just trust. And I clung to that... every time there was a weird pain, strange sensation and after every ultrasound. I know you are the kind of person that is doing everything right at this moment and I hope you can get some comfort from that."

Favourite moments... at our last ultrasound, the technician, without being prompted showed us the boys in 3D. WHOA. Seeing them in 3D blew our minds and I uttered the word, "Wow!" about a million times. It was beyond cool. Both babies are healthy, super active, and are measuring a week ahead of schedule. (You can see them below, I think Twin B looks like me. The middle picture of them touching heads hits me right in the ticker box and makes me love them even more.) They both weigh about 3 pounds which makes me happy. Every time they move I get a wave of serotonin and burst of total joy. Love this part of pregnancy!

Aches or pains... horrid restless leg syndrome keeps me up at night (or is that insomnia?) and my ribs feel like they're about to split apart but other than that I'm doing okay. Uncomfortable, but okay. I've been using Japanese mint oil on my legs and that seems to help, may try drinking coconut water too.

Exercise... I'm still walking Lucy every day, but the distance has decreased from 7 km (in the first and second trimesters) to 3 or 4 km. I've also stopped going to the dog park and walk her exclusively in our 'hood now. Scott was worried that if anything happened it'd be hard for emergency workers to find my pregnant ass in the wilds of Buena Vista park. And he's right.

Missing... eating copious amounts of sashimi! And oysters. And prosciutto. Also, being able to put on socks without looking like I'm rehearsing for an SNL physical comedy sketch (so awkward!). Missing my fully functioning brain, too. Pregnancy brain is very much a real thing. There have been days where I probably should've remained silent and used gestures and pointed at things to communicate. The stuff that comes out of my mouth is pure crazy talk and oftentimes beyond embarrassing.

Excited about... seeing the little dudes at our next ultrasound on January 4! Plus, Scott started painting the nursery this week. Hope to have a nursery update posted soon!

Seven more weeks, peeps (yep, 37 weeks is considered full term for twins). This pregnancy is flying by and we are so not ready. Insert maniacal laughter here.

On the Seventh Day of a Feminine Christmas

Jewelite was a type of plastic that was used for vanity items.  My grandmother had a lovely pink translucent Jewelite dresser set composed of a mirror, brush and comb.  The pretty trio was a Christmas gift from my grandfather sometime during the war years when silver was unobtainable. My grandmother cherished her set and it remained intact (even the comb) for the rest of her life.  I don't think she ever cared that it was not sterling.

I like to imagine the beautiful box of Jewelite under my grandparents Christmas tree in 1942. Feminine Christmas gifts always interest me and when I find a grouping of presents in literature, a diary or a film, I am always thrilled.  I mentioned in a recent post that Lee Leander in the marvelous Christmas movie, Remember the Night, received a crystal bottle of Hour of Ecstasy perfume but she also opened two other tissue-wrapped boxes which contained a sweet homemade pin cushion and a pair of dainty handknit bed slippers with delicate ribbon ties.  Simple offerings that were few in number, exquisite in quality, and pleasing on so many levels.

The first collection of presents that I became enamored with were of course, Marmee's in Little Women.  Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy each gave up their one dollar bills to buy their mother an assortment of feminine luxuries that must have been scarce during the bleakness of the Civil War.  I spent hours imagining Marmee's soft leather gloves, crimson slippers, bottle of cologne, and hemmed handkerchiefs and could see the items arrayed just so on the dining room table awaiting her wintry homecoming.  Are they not the things that any hard-working mother would prize?

Recently, I came across this in Nancy Mitford's romantic novel, The Pursuit of Love:

My presents (from my mother) were the envy of the entire household.  This year (she)...sent a fur hat and a gold and topaz bracelet, whose glamour was enhanced by the fact that Aunt Sadie considered it unsuitable for a child, and said so.

Beautiful and functional gifts...small luxuries to charm and inspire.

In the journal of Alice Stone Blackwell (1872-1874), Growing Up in Boston's Gilded Age, I discovered the following list on a December 25th entry:

~A beautiful necklace and bracelets of little pearly Venetian shells strung together with tiny beads
~A copy of Scott's poems
~A breast pin to match my sleeve buttons,
~A scrolled comb and some notepaper

Some of my favorite Christmas presents have been precious little things that don't necessarily cost a lot but invoke a sense of allure and grace.  These are the kinds of presents I love to give, too.

My grandfather may have wanted his wife to have a fancy ornate sterling silver dresser set.  Instead, he was able to give her something uncomplicated and elegant - decorous in simplicity, yet eminently useful.  And very, very pretty.

On the Sixth Day of a Feminine Christmas

I found myself with a tear in my eye on the way home from work yesterday, thanks to Sirius Radio's Holiday Traditions station.  Toyland, sung poignantly by Doris Day came on the radio and since I was trapped in a traffic jam, I had a chance to really listen to the lyrics.  Toyland was the very first movie my mother took us to and I recall that cold winter day well.  I had never been to a theater before and the screen was so big and the toy soldiers marched straight towards us from afar.

Soon my reveries turned to my big brother Peter and his manic love of Christmas.  He used to wake us at 5:00 am at Christmas' dawn and I well-remember the darkness and the excitement I felt in the pit of my belly.  We were practically shivering with delight by the time we made it to the living room, and anytime I happen to wake at dawn, - even today, I experience that Christmas feeling.

My brother loved his toys and my sister and I were often the recipients of his new Creepy Crawler set or toy gun.  We reciprocated by making him eat cake from our Easy Bake Oven.  I've never known anyone who enjoyed Christmas as much as my brother.  The run-up to the actual holiday was delightfully excruciating for him.  When I was very small, I asked him why we had Easter and quick as a wink, he replied "To hold us over until Christmas!"

But the words to the song tell us how fleeting childhood Christmases are - there are but a few of them and then suddenly, we are Santa to our own babes.  Mystic merry Toyland, childhood's Joyland...once you cross its border, you can never return again...

Find Doris Day's Toyland on youtube...you may see yourself and your siblings there, in between the words of its lilting refrain.

Us

On the Fifth Day of a Feminine Christmas

This is clearly an ad for a blanket.  But I love the cheery disarray of the bedroom, especially the wrappings and ribbons scattered about.  And how will she ever not step on that sweet little tea cup and saucer?  I really love her luxurious sweeping robe too.

I always put some thought into my nightclothes for Christmas.  My mother taught me to do that because so many pictures are taken on Christmas morning while opening gifts.  That's not the case in my house now...and I wouldn't allow it anyway.  But still, I like having new pajamas at Christmas and since a brand new son-in-law will be here, I feel I can't just wear any old thing.

For winter, there is nothing so cozy as a proper robe but I usually wear a long cashmere cardigan over my pajamas.  I love the feel against my shoulders and since I wear spaghetti-strapped pajama tops for comfortable cool sleeping, I need the warmth of a cozy sweater in the morning.  I noticed that a lot of designers, including Eileen Fisher, offer cashmere alternatives to robes and they make great cover-ups when the house is cold.  But mostly, I choose my nightwear just for me and it is still an important holiday consideration of mine.  Call me old-fashioned.

My grandmother gave me a flannel nightgown every year at Christmas.  I still remember some them:  red tartan, printed gold abstracts on a feminine bodice...and I remember one beautiful flannel nightie I bought for myself.  It was creamy white with a wide yoke filled with embroidered flowers.  I remember what it cost too:  $35 and that was a large sum for a new working girl.  That gown is immortalized in my head because of some pictures I have of me wearing it on Christmas morning that year.

Those were the days when nightclothes still mattered.  Lingerie departments were filled with luxe choices and saleswomen actually knew the merchandise and helped out.  Sleepwear and lingerie was a serious business.  Now the largest lingerie store is the local Victoria Secret which always looks to me like an adolescent boy is on the design staff.  I do most of my lingerie shopping online.  I know what I like and I know where to find it.

This year, I have selected a very pretty set of rose-colored flannel pants and matching sleeveless top.  The print is charming with birds and pinecones on branches which contrasts beautifully with the soft color and lace neck trim.  It didn't cost alot because I knew where to look and the exact moment to pounce.  I'll wear my new set with a white crocheted cashmere sweater and pink wool slippers.  I like to match on Christmas.  My grandmother would be proud.

I keep my "robes" across the end of my bed at night.  Someone told me I do that because I'm a lady and although it was a sweet compliment, it's just an old habit.  It's done in almost every vintage film I've ever seen.  I don't think I would take the time to put on robe and slippers if my house were on fire but I find it comforting to have these things close by.

PS:  if you have any Christmas lingerie wishes, I would love to hear about them.

On the Fourth Day of a Feminine Christmas

Love came down at Christmas,

Love was born at Christmas,

Love, all lovely, love divine, 

Stars and angels gave the sign

...Love shall be our token

Love be yours, and love be mine ~ Christina Rossetti

Those are some of my favorite Christmas stanzas.  Rossetti's poem is often referred to as a Christmas carol without a tune.  I love it because it is sweet and sincere and about the sweep of good feelings that often accompany Christmas morning "down the stairs".

The Christmas in the picture depicts a sweep down the stairs of festive boxed perfume sets, the kind of special combinations that perfume and cosmetic houses provide during the holiday season.  I especially like them because one can find coordinating scented products such as body creams and talcs - items that are sold separately at other times of year.  The collections are often boxed with beautiful Christmasy wrappings and sparkles.  But even a lone bottle of scent provides a lovely Christmas gift experience, especially if it's a beloved fragrance.

There is a marvelous scene in the Fred MacMurry and Barbara Stanwyck Christmas film, Remember the Night.  MacMurry's character, prosecutor John Sargent postpones the trial against Stanwyck's thieving Lee Leander because it's Christmas.  Instead, John takes Lee to his family's farmstead where Lee experiences a different kind of holiday than she is used to.  At gift opening time, John's kindly and intuitive mother, played lovingly by Beulah Bondi, gives Lee a bottle of the unopened perfume John had given her the Christmas before.  It is a touching cinematic moment when Lee opens the unexpected gift to find a lovely crystal bottle of Hour of Ecstasy perfume.  She inhales it deeply and gives no clue she knows the present is a re-gift.  Hard-scrabble Lee has not had too many no-strings-attached gifts in her life so I immediately start rooting for her and the budding love that is growing between she and John.  I pray John will be able to drop his lawyer stance and soften his heart for the beautiful kleptomaniac. But most of all, I hope that Lee will be able to receive honest love for the first time in her life and shrug off her tough and suspicious exterior.

A friend told me he still believes that love conquers all, even in today's world.  I cheer for John and Lee every Christmas in the hopes that what my friend knows will be played out on the screen before me again.  I sigh happily when the pretty bottle of Hour of Ecstasy breaks through Lee's icy pain and paves the way for love to come down at Christmas.  Stars and angels gave a scented sign.

On the Third Day of a Feminine Christmas

Without a winter coat during New England Christmastime, you'd surely freeze.  The first grown-up coat I ever bought myself looked very much like this lovely lady's.  It was a rich caramel-color with a luxuriously slippery coral lining.  Voluminous and toasty, it was very comforting, especially on the night I drove home during an epic blizzard.  But I never really thought of coats as comfort until I watched an episode of Joan River's reality show last year.  She had just finished a gig in Wisconsin in the dead of winter and was sitting in the back seat of a limo.  Suddenly, she shivered and then melted into her lush mink coat which enveloped her nearly to the point of disappearance.  A rapturous smile crossed her face.  I knew I had to find a new coat.

Fur was out of the question but I am not opposed to fur-trim or faux fur.  I knew I wanted something cozy and comfortable but it also had to meet my requirement of workday chicness and versatility.  It had to be wool and one that didn't show lint.  I realized I might need to spend a bit more for this dream garment and I was willing to do it.

My hunt didn't take long once an alert saleswoman pointed out that I was trying on the wrong size.  The reason why I never liked buying coats to begin with, is because the larger sizes give me way too much volume in the shoulders and chest even though the fit is perfect for the waist area.  I often sprang for smaller sizes that pulled in the torso but fit perfectly at the collar.  The saleswoman suggested I buy the larger size and consider spending extra money to have the shoulders, chest, and arms tailored.  Brilliant.

The coat I chose is a beautifully saturated eggplant-color in a loden wool.  It has an attached hood with dyed-to-match fox trim.  It looks great but more importantly, it makes me feel secure and protected from dropping temperatures and whatever precipitation falls from the sky.  It's comforting, and like Joan, I burrow down inside it on dark nights in the car as the fur trim gently brushes my cheeks.  I plan on taking good care of my investment piece.  As one gets older, special items like my coat seem to bestow enduring rewards.  Despite the fickleness of changing fashions, I am more and more reluctant to give up the things I really love for the latest models.  My sumptuous new winter coat will have its own legacy.  Definitely to be worn again and again.  Definitely forever.

On the Second Day of a Feminine Christmas

I just sent this picture to my daughter and wrote, "I am so sorry"... I was well into single parenting when this photograph was taken and I so wanted her to experience a wonder-filled and "normal" Christmas.  She did.  She just didn't like sitting on a strange man's lap.

We laugh about it now and many other things too, but being a lone parent during the holidays seemed a daunting challenge in those early years.  My first Christmas alone, when my daughter was just an infant, I wandered our big echoing house feeling very sorry for myself.  I worried about my future, my daughter's, where I would find work, daycare...time, energy.  I worried the gifts under the tree weren't enough even though my daughter was too young to care.  I realize now it was all the future Christmases that preoccupied me.  But hope came down the chimney that sad first year and I never forgot it.

While sitting before our little tree after having lit a fire by myself for the first time and while my daughter slumbered upstairs, I heard the garage door open.  The only person who had the other automatic opener was my mother.  I raced across the ice cold floors and yanked open the entry to the garage. Her borrowed car was filled with toys, food, and even a cord of firewood.  When she stepped out into the cold garage she said, "Santa came to my house by mistake".  I couldn't speak.  I bowed my head and wept.

Together we propped an old-fashioned doll in a petite wooden high chair and tucked her under the tree.  Nestled nearby was a new pull-sled for hauling baby and groceries which was a welcome gift in the snowy western-Massachusetts hill town where we lived.  There were also muffins for breakfast, orange juice and the aforementioned wood for burning.  Mom didn't stay long and we didn't talk much as we worked -  she had to come back the next morning for the great Baby's First Christmas unveiling, which would not be an easy maneuver for her.  I do remember she held me in her arms before she slipped back out to the garage.  I recall she looked deep into my eyes with a smile that said, "You can do this".  But it wasn't until I watched her snow-covered car disappear down the long driveway at nearly midnight that I realized her visit wasn't to deliver presents and goodies - she came because she didn't want me to feel alone.  And now, years and years later, I have also realized that on that dark first Christmas Eve alone, she gave me a gift that has stood the test of time...courage for the future.  And for a woman who excels at finding the perfect Christmas gift, it is still the best she ever gave.

and so the nursery planning begins...

 

I've been bitten by the nesting bug. Big time. These past few weeks have seen me perusing the internet like a mad woman searching for inspiration for the boys' nursery (who am I kidding? I've had ideas and plans brewing in my head for years). The truth is I'm trying to focus my energy on my excitement vs. being scared shi//less about having two babies. And part of what gets me all kinds of excited is picking out decor for our little dudes. We're staying away from the whole themed/coordinating nursery and making their room, which is currently our dressing room, an extension of our bedroom. Since the two rooms are only separated by a door, the colours will remain in the same palette as our bedroom: grey, white, cream and aqua with perhaps a bit of black to ground the space along with some natural elements (wood and rattan). My goal is for the space to feel calm, fresh, modern and charming.

Here's what we have so far:

• We recently purchased two white Jenny Lind-style cribs and the Bookhou laser cut birch alphabet. I've had my eye on both of these items since we first started trying to get pregnant. I can't tell you how good it feels to finally get them! Plus, I love the juxtaposition of the vintage crib paired with the modern font of the alphabet. 
• The swatch of aqua linen fabric is the colour of the existing roman blind in the room. We had it custom made with a black out lining by Tonic Living a year ago. It'll add a touch of colour to the mostly neutral space and keep the room dark enough for the babies to sleep for long periods of time (here's to hoping!). 
• I spotted the contemporary yet classic Graham glider at West Elm a couple of months ago and tested it out this past weekend while in Calgary to see if it was a winner (read: comfortable & on budget!). It was both comfy and serendipitously on sale so we ordered it in this colour. If the glider hadn't worked out, we would've attempted this DIY rocking chair hack, which is both utterly genius and affordable.

 

What I would most like to incorporate in the nursery is the Daydream fabric/wallpaper tiles designed by Julia Rothman for Hygge and West. I've been enamoured with it for eons but am not sure if I want it on one of the walls or as a throw pillow or crib skirt (neither of which I know how to make). Then again it may be most economical to buy just a yard of the fabric and stretch it on a canvas like my pal Christine did in her lovely nursery with some cool Ikea fabric. Thoughts?

I'm digging this cloud pillow from Land of Nod and elephant basket from Zara Kids. This faux fur pom pom pillow also caught my eye as did these alphabet and pom pom bins. Every nursery needs a touch of whimsy, right?



Here are some inspiration photos of nurseries which feature the Jenny Lind crib (can you spot the alphabet art in the room below?). I also like this nursery inspiration roundup. You'll probably be able to tell by these pictures that eclectic, modern, non-themed nurseries are my jam.

 

                                                   Nursery sources: 1. // 2. // 3. // 4. // 5. // 6.

This is truly the fun part! A whole new room to work on. Plus, I have a very tight deadline so procrastination isn't allowed... this time. I'm hoping my next nursery post will feature a before and after of a painted room, so stay tuned.

P.S. Any advice on what you feel is absolutely necessary to have in a nursery? Or what is essential gear for babies in general? I'm all ears (and frankly a tad overwhelmed by all the stuff that's available).