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.

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