Apartment Update: Living Room

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It has been two month since I moved into my tiny new apartment.  While the last several weeks have been an exhausting mix of moving, furniture assembly, organization and more trips to Target than I expected, it’s been so fun turning this space into my home. I told you all that I was going to learn some tricks from an interior designer, but that didn’t work out so I’m going it alone. I was disappointed at first, but it’s made for more of an adventure. I can now also claim that I did this all by myself, and I’m really happy and proud of the (nearly) finished product.  To add to the challenge, I am working on a very tight budget. All this is not to say that I don’t have a lot more to do, but here’s an update on all that I have been up to.

You all remember the before shot of the main room:

Empty Apartment

Empty Apartment

And here is the after:

living room

Please remember I didn’t really have any furniture (I sold it all when I moved from NYC to Boston). I showed up on Beacon Hill with the wing chair, ottoman and piano bench that I upholstered, but that’s about it. As a result, I was able to build the entire room (one of the two in the apartment) around those items, specifically my beloved chair. I focused on navy, white and pink for the room.

The table and chairs in my kitchen came from my grandmother’s house (by way of my aunt’s basement). Thankfully the table is the perfect size for the small kitchen, but has two additional leaves embedded in the table I can use for dinner parties.

living room 2

I had been dreaming of a navy velvet sofa (Did you know that Jonathan Adler has a line at JC Penney?), but decided to go neutral because this isn’t my “forever home,” and who knows where I will be (or with whom) in a year or two. I fell in love with the brass nail heads of the Vaughn sofa from Boston Interiors, and the price was right. The folks at Boston Interiors were so nice and left me along to waffle between a few styles for nearly and hour while entertaining my fellow shoppers by face-timing with my mother throughout the showroom.

With that purchase made, I was able to have fun with the rug. I picked this trellis pattern in navy and white. I was this close to choosing a chevron pattern for the floor, but I think chevron’s moment in the trendy sun is just about over.  Instead, I picked a chevron pillow. I figured it was less of an commitment. I’m pairing that with a Kim Salmela pillow that ties in the trellis of the rug, with an ethnic print (reminiscent of the ikat of my upholstered bench) with pink welting in a shade close to that on my chair and ottoman. It was my own personal design hat-trick.

The wing chair has been in constant use since I moved in, and it really needed a companion in the form of a little end table. I found this brass one at Home Goods, but you can find similar one at Create & Barrel. I love brass, and because of the sofa’s nail heads I decided to overlook the mirrored top. Not in love with that part of it, but flowers help soften the look for me.

wing chair

I own some lovely pieces of art, but nothing large scale enough to work above the couch, so I decided to try a gallery wall made up of some of the items I love most (prints, photos of dear friends, a map of London, a favorite New Yorker cover, a pen and ink by my talented brother, and an original Loose Parts cartoon that’s an inside family joke) plus two small sun mirror to add some much-needed texture.

My gallery wall

My gallery wall

I went through the entire process by cutting out newspaper to the specifications of my frames, hung them on the wall, and then stared at it from different spots in the room for an hour or so to make sure I liked the arrangement.  Putting the whole wall together took more time than I expected, but I’m pretty happy with the end product. I’m looking for one more item with some texture for the upper left corner. If you have a suggestion please send it my way!

I’ve held off having an official housewarming party because I want the space to be “done” before I have people over. In the past I’ve offered advice to friends who are decorating to cut themselves some slack, don’t rush the decorating process, and take time to see how they use the space before committing. I haven’t been able to take that advice to heart. I’ve been stressed about the shade of blue on a pillow, and a back ordered coffee table sent me into a tailspin (speaking of which, I now think I’ll be getting this Lucite one from CB2 so that it visually disappears into the room).

I seem to be projecting a lot of my feelings about myself onto my apartment. I only want my friends—and you—to see it when it was finished and perfect! I finally did have two girlfriends over for wine a week ago, and I was prepared to explain why this or that was not complete, or when the patio furniture is arriving (next week, just in time for summer), but I didn’t need to explain the state of my apartment to them. They loved it—the work in progress that it is—just as they love me.  When will I learn?

Next week the apartment tour continues in my bedroom where my craftiness was pushed to its limits.  Stay tuned.

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Inspiring…and Certainly Not Saggy

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Periodically on this blog I take time out from my own adventures to tell you about someone who has followed their passion until it paid off. This helps remind me—and I hope you as well –that if you stick with it (whatever your “it” is) it will pay off one way or another.

A few weeks back I had the opportunity to interview Andy Dunn, the co-founder and CEO of Bonobos, at the party to celebrate the retailor’s new brick and mortar “guideshop” right off of Boston’s Newbury Street. Boston was the site of the company’s first physical presence for getting up close and personal (not to mention trying on) with their wares (you still have to make a purchase online), having operated solely via e-commerce until about a year ago.

The scene at the guideshop party

The scene at the guideshop party

Dunn started Bonobos (named after particularly promiscuous primate, I’m going to leave that alone) by making a commitment to better fitting pants for men. “Fit” is a fashion buzz word most commonly associated with women’s attire.  Some would argue that men’s jeans and khakis don’t really “fit” at all; they sag and hang lifelessly from their owners’ bodies, suspended somewhere below their wastes (and sometimes even below their butts) by a hardworking belt.  That ended in 2007 when Dunn’s co-founder and business school classmate, Brian Spaly, started altering his pants after getting fed-up with their ill-fitting construction. That’s when the two friends started following their passion to create a better fitting pant, and embarked on their mission to — the in the words of The New York Times — “banish the saggy bottom.” (Dunn and Spaly parted ways in 2009 amid creative differences. Spaly has gone on to create Trunk Club).

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Dunn addressing guests at the Boston guideshop party

Speaking with Dunn in a corner of the bustling party, it was clear that he’s truly passionate about the company, its employees and its line of menswear that has expanded to include not only chinos, but also jeans, button-down shirts, suits, blazers, T-shirts, ties and a host of accessories. Pocket square anyone? Dunn’s face and tone emits the enthusiasm he has for his company and its products.

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Bonobos are great fitting and come in tons of fabulous colors

Bonobos made a name for itself not only based on great fit, but also on customer service. As an e-commerce site, their business model relied heavily on a generous lifetime return policy and knowledgeable personnel to provide assistance purchasing a product online that arguably everyone would prefer to see in person and try on. Their customer service representatives, known as “style ninjas,” are available via email, phone and twitter.

Dunn and I spoke about the difficulty of following your passion when there’s no guarantee that it will pay off or even get off the ground. “The leap is scary, but empowering,” he said, describing the initial venture. Contrary to what I would have thought, he said  it hasn’t become any less scary as the company has grown, despite its mounting success. Now he has 120 employees who depend on him and the company.

“Both our customers and employees love the product and love the company,” he said referring to being named one of the Top 50 Best Places to work by Crain’s New York Business. “So I know we’re doing something right.” By any measure, Bonobos is a success. In addition to $8 million in initial funding cobbled together from 100 angel investors, Dunn and company just went through s second round of financing totaling $30 million, including more than $16 million from Nordstrom, where Bonobos are now also available.

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Dunn said he learned a very important lesson on a trip to a Kenyan village towards the end of business school, and it’s stayed with him ever since. “It’s not risky to do what you love, it’s risky not to.” That idea really resonated with me (not that this blog is all about me…well…I guess it is) and has stayed with me even weeks later. It doesn’t matter if 500 people read this blog, or 5,000. I’m not doing this for you (no offense). I am doing it for me, and the fact that hundreds of you enjoy reading about my escapades–and appreciate my honesty when I’m having a “crisis” (of varying degrees)–is just a big ‘ol perk, but not one that I take for granted. The leap I am taking though this blog is bound to impact my life (and already has) in some unexpected ways, and as Dunn says, it’s much riskier for me not to do it than to jump in head first.

Thanks to Andy Dunn and all the lovely folks at Bonobos. You can see, feel and try on Bonobos by making an appointment at their guideshop on Dartmouth and Newbury, or at one of their five other locations, and make a purchase at www.bonobos.com. I was not compensated in any way for this post (But full disclosure, if they made women’s clothes I may have asked to be. Just kidding. Sort of).

The Big Reveal: Yo-Yo

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After weeks of practice, I am ready to reveal not only my new-found yo-yoing skills but also the first Great Wide Open Digital Short. It’s like an SNL Digital Short, but without the soundtrack, and less funny…but only slightly (I hope).

Let me know what you think, and if you’d like to see more of these videos. Don’t worry, They won’t replace my witty written posts, I like writing way to much to give that up.  Enjoy!

So as you can see, while I did display a “marked improvement,” I’m still not very good. But far more important than that, I had tons of fun learning all things yo-yo!

Before this adventure I didn’t realize the skill and dedication it takes to be a good yo-yoer, and I had no idea how popular yo-yoing still is. When I mentioned this latest adventure I received tons of questions about the tricks I was learning, and what type of yo-yo I was using. I felt as if I had suddenly gained entry into a cool club…a club I never knew existed.

While I’m not advanced enough to complete any tricks, here is my yo-yo yoda, Adam Nelsen, demonstrating some traditional tricks:

"The Jamaican Flag"

“The Jamaican Flag”

"Ursa Major"

“Ursa Major”

"Rock the Baby," not "hang the baby"

“Rock the Baby,” not “hang the baby”

Me and my yo-yo Yoda

Me and my yo-yo Yoda

Thanks again to Adam Nelsen for being a patient and supporting teacher. And an extra special thank you to my friend Geoff Brownell for shooting and editing this video. A wonderfully fun partnership has begun!

American (Alone) in Paris

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I am slowly adjusting to East Coast time as my fair city slowly tries to get back to normal after last Monday’s senseless violence and the terrifying manhunt that followed. As many of you read last week, I was watching closely from afar, and my friends and family in Boston were constantly on my mind while I was in Europe.

Hello London!

Hello London!

I hadn’t thought of this vacation of mine as an “adventure,” and had not planned to write about it, but as it approached, and I told people my plans, I started to realize that other people thought it was an adventure. I would fly into London to visit a dear friend and head to Paris on my own for several days in the middle of the week, before returning to London for a few more days. It sounded heavenly to me. But the fact that I was traveling to Paris alone seemed to give some people pause. I heard a few “You’re so brave,” and a handful of “I could never do that.”

Could I do that? I never thought that I couldn’t travel by myself, but hearing others’ doubts allowed some of my own to creep in. I had done my research; I had consulted with friends and co-workers who had spent time in Paris, I had rented a flat in La Marais (a neighborhood that stretches across the 3rd and 4th arrondissments that I would compare to the Lower East Side) through airbnb in the hopes of having a more authentic Parisian experience. I had been there before and already checked all the bucket list items off, so I didn’t really have an agenda; I just wanted to wander around, sip wine at cafés and absorb Paris.

Plus, the idea of exploring Pairs on my own felt very mature. It seems like something that an independent 30-something would do. I felt empowered just thinking about it.

Flamme de la Liberte

Flamme de la Liberte

When I arrived in Paris I was filled with excitement. I navigated my way from the train station to my flat, greeted it’s owner in my barely conversational French and set out on foot to start my Parisian adventure. I visited the Cathedral of Notre Dame and the Latin Quarter then settled into a cafe to enjoy dinner. I tried to tell my waiter that my meal was delicious, but it seems he thought I said desert. The crème brulee was delicious as well.

My second day in Paris was one of those rare perfect days: it was 72 degrees and not a cloud in the sky…the sun was shining and the birds were chirping. I walked along the Seine, stopping at the Louvre, walked along the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe, then across the river to the Eiffel Tower. I found a bench in the Jardin des Tuileries and read a book by a fountain in the sun (and managed to get totally sunburned in the process).

Arc de Triomphe

Arc de Triomphe

But after six hours of looking at beautiful sights, but not saying more than “Bonjour” to anyone, I started to feel a little lonely. I couldn’t figure out if the language barrier was to blame for my feelings of isolation, or if it was the reality that I was in fact isolated in a foreign land…totally alone. When I saw or read something interesting there was no one to turn to and say, “Boy, that’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” I got turned around a few times on the narrow, winding streets of La Marais, and that only amplified my feeling of isolation. I would like to be able to say that it was out of bravery, but it was really out of desperation that I emailed a friend of a friend whom I had never met and asked if she wanted to grab a drink that night. As an ex-pat who had been in Paris about a year and a half, I hoped she could recall her first days in the city and take pity on me.

She brought me to a French reggae concert. There I mingled and danced (actually it was more like bouncing) with Parisian Rastafarians. This time there was no language barrier; the music was so loud I could have been speaking Chinese for all anyone could tell. It was cool, adventurous and spontaneous — and I had a blast.

As I walked back to my flat after the show I felt that sense of empowerment that I thought this trip would bring me. While that feeling was fleeting — I got lost and had to ask a drunk man who may or may not have been homeless for directions – I felt it!

By the time I headed back to London the follow afternoon I was ready to rejoin my friends and have a conversation made up of more than six words. I’m not sure I want to travel totally alone in the future. I think I prefer to share those experiences with someone (there’s a metaphor for life hiding in there, isn’t there?).

But I know that I can do it, and I am proud of myself for trying.

Selfie on the Metro

Selfie on the Metro

From Paris with Love (For Boston)

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This week my city was attacked. This is the second time “my” city was attacked. This time I was not there, and I am struggling with that…from Paris.

I had been a little disappointed to miss this year’s Boston Marathon, as disappointed as one can be when the alternative is a trip to London and Paris. I’m a runner and love watching people just like me achieving their dreams. I had watched a dear friend finish the marathon last Patriots Day. I had cheered her on from about a block away from where this year an entirely evil person decided to leave bombs designed to maim my fellow Bostonians.

Photo courtesy of Hannah Moore

Photo courtesy of Hannah Moore

I was in London when I received the New York Times news alert that there had been explosions at the finish line. My first thought was that it was likely an electrical glitch with the race timers. It couldn’t be anything more sinister than that, right? This was Boston after all. Moments later my days-dormant phone was buzzing non-stop with texts and emails from concerned friends making sure I was safe. They knew I would likely be there. And they were right, I would have been. This was the second time in my life I have been inundated with these types of desperate check-ins.

Today, days later, I am still away, now in Paris, and I’m having a hard time thinking about anything other than my family, friends, and fellow citizens who are back home and trying to come to grips with this. I wish I could say the typical “I can’t imagine how they are feeling,” but sadly I can. I was a New Yorker on September 11, 2001, and so I know exactly how they are feeling. The fear, the uncertainty and the realization that things may never be the same. All of it.

I wish I were there. Reading articles and watching videos from half a world away doesn’t give me enough of a sense of how my city is truly doing. In the terrifying days following September 11th, at least I was there to feel and see what was happening, as terrible as it was. I was able to hug, and come together with friends and strangers alike in a common sense of loss, and then defiance. Now I am just left to wonder…alone. The Boston I return to on Sunday will be a much different Boston than the one I left.

One thing I know for sure—because I witnessed it nearly twelve years ago—is that while the city may not be exactly the same, it will be back…and better…and safer. Even from across the world, I can already see it happening. Boston and its citizens are picking themselves—and each other—up. Boston is dusting itself off, mourning, healing, and getting ready to show whoever did this that it takes a lot more that this to break the spirit of our city. Any of our cities.

Photo courtesy of Hannah Moore

Photo courtesy of Hannah Moore

Just like our city, our marathon will also be back, better and safer than ever and I will run it. I never thought I would run another one, but today I am stating for the record that I will run next year’s Boston Marathon, and no psychopath can stop me. I am sure in the weeks and months ahead a group will emerge to help the victims of this terrible attack, and I will raise money for whatever form that effort takes. I won’t be afraid of anything except for Heartbreak Hill…because I’m a former New Yorker, a Bostonian and an American.

Who’s with me?

Flamme de la Liberte. I stumbled upon this on the banks of the Seine, a little reminder of what makes America and Boston great.

Flamme de la Liberte. I stumbled upon this on the banks of the Seine, a little reminder of what makes America and Boston great.

Life of the Party

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I love everything about throwing parties. The planning, the cooking, the decorating…maybe not the cleanup, but I enjoy nearly every aspect of entertaining. I can’t wait until I’m all settled in to my new place so I can invite my friends over for a housewarming or “spring is finally here” soirée.

I’m not so naive to assume that having a few dozen friends over to my apartment is the same as a large-scale corporate event, but seeing that I have an affinity for entertaining, I set out to learn how it should be done from some experts!  Enter the incredible team from Corinthian Events. The Corinthian team has been planning spectacular corporate and non-profit events in Boston for the past 13 years.

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The Corinthian team re-groups just before the Banned in Boston event begins

Corinthian allowed me to observe and help them with “Banned in Boston,” an annual event to benefit Urban Improv. “Its’ truly one of the most fun fundraisers in the city,” said Elizabeth Iannessa, the Corinthian team leader for this event. The non-profit Urban Improv uses improvisational theater workshops to teach young people violence prevention, conflict resolution, and good decision-making. Urban Improv’s actor/educators lead interactive workshops that offer Boston Public School students the opportunity to explore their own solutions to challenges though acting out real-life situations.

urban improv copy

Banned in Boston has two dynamic components. First, cocktails and dinner at the Lansdowne Pub which is nestled in the shadow of Fenway Park. Some of Boston’s best chefs serve their favorite dishes to attendees. Later, guests make their way next door to the House of Blues for a glorified talent show featuring some of the city’s biggest personalities. Governor Deval Patrick sang, Emily Rooney acted out a skit modeled after “The Dating Game,” and City Councilman-at-Large Mike Ross was dressed up as Dennis Rodman.

While I was only on-hand the night of the event, the planning of “Banned in Boston” began eight months prior. This was the sixth year that Corinthian has planned this event, so one of the earliest stages of planning involved developing and implementing new ideas to improve upon last year.

While the look and feel of this, or any event, is important, the devil is truly in the details. “We take the time to really wrap our heads around the logistics and the nitty-gritty details that are sometimes overlooked,” Elizabeth explained. The planning of the event starts on a macro level, and then goes micro; the so-called “run of show” schedules the event down to the minute. Members of the team have copies of the “run of show” and referred to it throughout the night. This micro-focus sets this experience apart from many of my past adventures. In this instance, being Type A is not a bad thing…in fact, it’s a job requirement.

The Fireplace chef Jim Solomon

The Fireplace chef Jim Solomon

Solomon's meaty masterpiece

Solomon’s meaty masterpiece

When I arrived at the Lansdowne Pub to help the Corinthian team set up I was delighted to see that they were all wearing earpieces. It was like a scene out of “The Wedding Planner.” Nothing says “I am a big deal” like an earpiece, and the event’s dual locations posed a Jennifer Lopez movie-worthy challenge. Elizabeth and her team had to make sure guests moved easily and seamlessly from one to the other at the appointed time. The kicker: they had to break-down the party and clean up before the Lansdowne Pub opened its doors to the public approximately 30 minutes later. That is where I would come in.

Before the doors officially opened we were all given our marching orders. I was to roam around the event, making sure none of the trash cans got too full, and generally helping guests with anything they may need. While it’s clear that planning a party is not the same as attending a party, I can’t imagine a better work environment! Everyone is having a great time and Boston’s top chefs like Lydia Shire dished out their favorite recipes.

Lydia Shire from Scampo and Towne prepares her pork buns

Lydia Shire from Scampo and Towne prepares her pork buns

The eight-person Corinthian team (your’s truly included) was in constant communication, face to face and over their nifty earpieces and microphones; adjusting elements of their plan as needed. Another member of the Corinthian team, Laura Keeler, told me they plan everything they possibly can and then roll with the punched during the event, because you really don’t know what will happen.

After nearly two hours of mingling and merriment (during which I may have snuck an Island Creek Oyster to two) it was announced that the main event, the show at the House of Blues, was about to begin. As is common with any great party, guests just didn’t want to leave. We had to politely and gently herd guest towards the door.

Island Creek Oysters...impossible to resist

Island Creek Oysters…impossible to resist

Once the guests were finally finding their seats next door I really sprang into action, feverishly helping the chefs and their staff break down their tables and stations, clean up their equipment, and get the Lansdowne Pub ready for their regular Friday night clientele. It felt like a race against the clock, but the entire team divided and conquered the tasks and got the space ready in time.

I figured this adventure would be fun and I would get some tips on my own entertaining, but what surprised me was that for the last year I had been trying to slough-off all my Type A nature, but with this experience I saw how control freak tendencies can actually be an asset. Elizabeth, Laura and the rest of the team had to pay attention to, and obsess over, every tiny detail in order for the event to be the success that it was. Maybe I need to stop looking at things – and myself – in black and white…laid back or ramrod straight. Maybe all the shades of grey create a tapestry of skills and experiences that help us handle a myriad of situations. Maybe I should be less focused on my Type A rehabilitation and just be more open to whatever comes my way.

Some of the children who participate in Urban Improv programs perform for the audience

Some of the children who participate in Urban Improv programs perform for the audience

With my hard work over, I made my way to the House of Blues to enjoy the show, something that the real Corinthian team was not able to do. They were still in position, making sure the event went off without a hitch. The show was hysterical, I laughed out loud, and learned that Governor Patrick has a pretty good singing voice. I was able enjoy it a little bit more than I think I would have had I not been a witness to all the hard work and attention to detail that went into this fantastic night.

Many thanks to Elizabeth, Laura, Courtney, Ben, Chris and the entire Corinthian team for letting me observe and help them execute a great event for a fantastic cause. I was not compensated in any way for this post.

Child’s Play?

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There are some things in life that we have all tried, don’t think too much about and quickly move on. And then there are those rare individuals who try those same activities, get incredibly interested, and then get incredibly good. When you see these people in action, and hear them talk about their passion, it makes you wonder why you lost interest so quickly.

I could be referring to a ton of things, but this week, specifically, I am referring to the lost art (as I learned it’s most apt categorization is as a performance art) of yo-yo!

At its core, a yo-yo is simply an axle between two disks, with a piece of string looped around the axle. I assumed it had lost favor about the same time as tiddlywinks and jacks, but then I met Adam Nelsen. Adam is a contemporary of mine who holds the distinction of being the second-runner-up in the Virginia State Yo-Yo championship circa 1997 (and one could say he was the best juvenile Virginian yo-yoer because not only did he invite the two boys who beat him to the competition, but they were also on vacation from South America).

I was fascinated that Adam has a talent that I associated with black and white TV shows like “Leave it to Beaver,” so I asked him if he would teach me how to yo-yo. He generously agreed, but as is the case with many of my adventures, what I assumed would be rather easy, turned into a herculean battle of woman versus yo-yo.

Adam and his yo-yo

Adam and his yo-yo

First more about Adam: He began yo-yoing as a child, but he took his skills to the next level when he got a holiday-season job yo-yoing next to a yo-yo kiosk at a local mall. That seasonal job grew and soon he was impressing passers-by for eight hours a day. That’s when things got serious. With dreams of fame and fortune—or at least dreams of an appearance on the local news—he entered the state championship being held at the local science museum. Right before the competition, two boys stopped by the mall kiosk (this is how all good stories begin) and Adam says he had never seen better yo-yoers in his life. So in a moment of generosity (he has a lot of those), which he may now regret, he told them about the competition. Those two boys not only entered, but they came in first and second. While young Adam was disappointed, he was not deterred. He continued to yo-yo throughout his adolescence, and today he is teaching his three-year-old.

Seeing that Adam’s son likely has more yo-yo skills than I do, this provides a nice segue to our lesson. Adam began by showing me some if the easy tricks that he knows. And as any expert is bound to do, he made it look easy.  As Adam explained, yo-yoing is all about the sleeper. The yo-yo is “sleeping” when it is spinning at the end of the string. The longer it spins, the more time you have to accomplish a trick. Some of the easier tricks he showed me included “Rock the Baby,” which I mistakenly called shake the baby. Oops! Not the most auspicious beginning to my yo-yo adventure. Adam’s yo-yo was flying all over the place, towards the floor, towards the ceiling, towards me. He even got on his back laying on the ground, with the yo-yo flying above him.

In addition to attempting to teach me to yo-yo, Adam also provided me with a new outlook on this toy: that of performance art. Sometimes Adam yo-yo’s out of boredom (waiting for something to print at work), but just as he did at the kiosk in the mall years ago, he yo-yo’s to entertain. “I don’t ever just show somebody my best trick right out of the gate,” Adam explained to me. “I take them on a little journey to maximize the entertainment value. I gauge their level of interest with a little chatter. I try to read the crowd. I make some quick decisions based on what they’re saying about their experiences yo-yoing, what tricks they’re asking to see, and how much time they’ve got. Then, I take them through a performance. I try to make them smile or say, ‘wow.’”

After watching some of Adam’s cool tricks, I wanted to get in on the action. I grabbed one of the dozens of yo-yos that Adam brought to our lesson (ranging in price from $5 – $90), wanting to give it a try, but while I could release the yo-yo and send it falling towards the floor, I could not summon it back up to my hand. I had to stop and manually wrap the string back around the axle. This happened again and again; I could not hurl the yo-yo down with enough force and spin for it to make it back up to me. Without making me feel like a child, Adam downgraded me to the yo-yo that he is using to teach his child, and sent me home to practice. And that is what I am doing, every night (just about). I hope to get good enough not to embarrass myself in my follow-up post, which with include a video so you can get the full yo-yo expereince. Stay Tuned!

I must thank Adam Nelsen for taking the time to share his passion for yo-yoing with me. He does a lot of other cool things that you can check out on his website, plus Twitter and Instagram.

Love is in the Air

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I love weddings…the romance, toasts, champagne and dancing. I don’t even need to know a couple that well to well-up as they walk down the aisle. And while I have not had luck (yet) playing matchmaker for myself, I do love trying to connect people in the hopes that they could be a good match for each other. While I don’t have an impressive track record, my heart is certainly in it, and so I thought it was worth seeing if I can develop the skills to be a matchmaker.

I knew that if I want to improve my cupid batting average I would need the advice of an expert. Lucky for me, arguably the most prolific matchmaker in the country agreed to meet with me. Forget Patti Stanger; Janis Spindel is the original Millionaire Matchmaker (and as she points out, there is a big difference between matchmaking and a dating service). Janis is a matchmaker, author and has been featured in the New York Times, the Boston Globe and ABC News.

Janis Spindel

Janis Spindel

Janis and I met in a cozy corner of a hotel lobby on the East Side of Manhattan. Although we were tucked away in a corner, Janis kept looking around, scanning the room. I quickly realized why: America’s number one matchmaker is constantly looking for people to match. Constantly. She is always working. And for her, working means approaching and meeting hundreds of men and women each day.

Janis began her business almost 20 years ago after her amateur matching skills resulted in 14 marriages in eight months. Yes, you read correctly. While those couples were made up of friends of hers, now she finds individuals to match anywhere and everywhere…strangers she met around town…in the nail salon…wherever. She now has over a thousand successful relationships and marriages. She estimates that she gives out 250 business cards each and every day.

Janis has been described as a force of nature, and it’s an apt description. She speaks a mile a minute and her sentences are punctuated with emphatic enthusiasm that can become contagious (“He is gorgeous…GORGEOUS”). Pair that with her frequent head jerks in the direction of any potential new client who walks in the room, and you wonder how she can apply this level of constant energy to her job, in addition to her life at home with her husband of 30 years and two daughters.

But as she told me, her job is her passion, so it doesn’t really feel like a job. With that, I knew why I liked her immediately.

While she originally had both male and female clients, now Janis works exclusively with men who pay hundreds of thousands of dollar for her to help them find wives. And about that she is clear; her clients need to be in it to win it with marriage on the mind. “I get people married! Plain and simple,” she has said. And to that end, she does her research: Janis goes out to eat with each prospective client so she can research what they may be like on a date. She will also help them prepare to meet Ms. Right: she has a stylists on staff if a new wardrobe is deemed necessary, and will connect a client with a dentist if his pearly whites need to be more…well…pearly white.

She is also constantly introducing herself to women (they can also fill out a questionnaire on her website to be considered for matching. I did it, it’s painless.) to evaluate whether they would be a good match for one of her clients. Plus, attractive women have attractive friends she says. Same goes for men. If someone is attractive and successful — even if they are already taken — Janis hypothesizes that his friends will be as well. She has built up an astounding network of singles, and she is constantly adding to that pot.

I wondered how she sizes people up so quickly. Janis told me that her grandmother was clairvoyant, and she has some of the same intuition about people. She is able to immediately asses if an individual would be a good match for one of her clients. She also relies on similarities in backgrounds and interests to inform her matches: religion, education and parents’ marital status are a few examples.

As I would assume happens during most of Janis’ conversations, our chat began with me interviewing her, but it ended up with her interviewing me. Why did I leave New York (I get this a lot from New Yorkers)? What am I looking for in a man? We talked about online dating (which, for the sake of full disclosure, I did try for a hot second, but quit after meeting only two guys. One kept referencing getting (him, not me) into bikini shape for summer, the other was super nice, but all we talked about was Will Farrell movies and his paraplegic triathlons.) Janis is a “HUGE promoter of online dating,” she told me. “Remember it just takes one…and you never know.” She has even launched her own online site. You can check it out here.

So armed with insight from Janis I will now set out to set up!  I have a few brave souls who have already volunteered to make up one half of some great future couples. If you are interested in being my guinea pig…umm…I mean the beneficiary of my new-found matchmaking skills, please let me know! I will fill you all in later on how I – and they – do.

And in light of the cases that the Supreme Court is considering this week, I feel the need to be explicit that I would be honored to attempt to also match individuals who are looking for a partner of the same gender, because I believe that everyone deserves the right to marry who they love.

 Thank you to Janis Spindel for taking the time to meet with me. She really is a force of nature and if anyone can find your match, it’s her. You can learn more about her services on her website, you can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter. I was not compensated in any way for this post.

Kenneth Jay Lane Part II

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Full disclosure: I have a thing for older men.

Get your mind out of the gutter! I have a thing for talking to older men.

During college I would always visit my government professors during their office hours to discuss a recent lecture or assignment. But I would secretly hope that our conversation would meander on to other topics; topics they knew a lot about…and that I wanted to know a lot about. One English professor, who became a dear friend, Charlie Bassett, was frequently described as a cranky old man, but I saw someone who was fully engaged in his life and who had the perspective and the stories to prove it. And I wanted to hear all of them.

I felt the same way during my fascinating afternoon with famed jewelry designer Kenneth Jay Lane (if you missed my first installment on Lane you can read it here). As he charges into his eighth decade, behind him is a thoroughly lived life, filled with creative endeavors, travel and famous and fabulous friends. He’s also had a front row seat (in pretty amazing company) to many of the events and that shaped the last half century of fashion and New York life. He is a living, breathing fashion history book and I was riveted by every word that came out of his mouth.

Lane was welcoming and generous with his time. We sat down to begin our discussion and he ordered us Chinese take-out. Yes, Chinese! And it was the very best Chinese food I have ever eaten. We were joined for lunch by Freddie, who has been with Lane for fifty years. Freddie started out as his driver, and is now head of production. It was obvious that loyalty is one of Lane’s many virtues. He addressed many of the people who work for him as “Darling,” (which I loved) and interrupted our interview to greet and chat with the mailman. If I had expected him to be slightly curmudgeonly, it quickly became obvious that I had been wrong.

Our winding conversation covered diverse topics including his childhood, career, friends and legacy (which I thought, as an octogenarian, would be on his mind. He quickly corrected me). We spoke about his first trip to New York as a teen. He was a self-described “precocious” 15 year-old and had read up on The City, and had planned what he and his mother would do, see and eat (thanks to her subscription to Gourmet). He saw “Street Car Named Desire” starring a young Marlon Brando. What a way to be introduced to New York! Later, after attending the Rhode Island School of Design he moved to New York, but spent a great deal of time in Paris while designing shoes for Dior.

Lane with his dear friend Diana Vreeland. Photo courtesy of dianavreeland.com

Lane with his dear friend Diana Vreeland. Photo courtesy of dianavreeland.com

Lane began his company in the early 1960’s because the legendary editor Diana Vreeland encouraged him to give jewelry a try. He did not sketch designs, he played with materials and stones with his hands. He became great friends with Oscar de la Renta because they both worked in the Elizabeth Arden building on 5th Avenue and used to check out each other’s tailoring in the elevator. “We dressed much more formally back then,” he explained. They were both up-and-comers, and they forged a friendship that has lasted over fifty years. It was exciting to hear him talk about his friends, just the way I would describe mine, but his were…and are…fashion luminaries.

Oscar de la Renta (left) with KJL and Annette de la Renta (far right). Photo courtesy of New York Social Diary

Oscar de la Renta (left) with KJL and Annette de la Renta (far right). Photo courtesy of New York Social Diary

He has also had many friends who were part of New York society, back in a time when there were actual society pages. Times have indeed changed. “I don’t know anyone on Page Six anymore,” he told me, in reference to the notorious New York Post gossip page. Reality stars are now center stage. We mused about how there was a certain sense of modesty exhibited in those days that does not exist today. Members of Manhattan’s elite employed PR representatives “to keep their names out of the paper,” he observed. “Not to get them on the front page,” as they do today.

When did the expression “There’s no such thing as bad publicity,” develop? Certainly not in Lane’s hey-day (I would use the term “prime,” but I’m not convinced that it’s not still ahead of him). The formality of dress and the fact that people tried not to attract a certain type of attention are just two small ways in which the world has changed before his eyes.

He said he has no real regrets. Everything he’s done has helped deliver him to this point in his life: he is still having fun creating beautiful things which women all over the world love and are still buying. His longevity itself is amazing, especially in an industry that measures careers in “seasons.”

He also told me that he doesn’t spend much time thinking about his legacy, or immortality. He has better things to do (although when we spoke about immortality, he said that if he were a Greek god he would be Bacchus, the god of wine. As if I needed another reason to love him!). But he is slowly giving away his vast collection of art to the MET, something he describes as “quite fun.” The pieces that he has collected and treasured over the years will be treasured by generations to come in the Kenneth Jay Lane Gallery.

“I’ve been very lucky in my life,” he said. “I have met amazing people, had amazing friends.” It just so happens that those friends where some of the most fashionable people of their time. He admitted that it’s sad that many of those dear friends have passed away, but he spoke with love about his many godchildren and the fact that he has been able to “select” his family, a close-knit group of friends. Kenneth Jay Lane seems comfortable with all that he as experienced and accomplished, but he’s still pushing to create beautiful pieces for a new generation of fans who can’t wait to see what he does next.

Our conversation was truly a unique experience. I have never interviewed someone whom I am such a fan of before. And to my delight, this interview morphed into more of a conversation, so I could imagine what it may be like to be friends with this fascinating figure. Our conversation was so fun, yet so surreal, that I am not sure I can do it justice in this post, but it’s amazing to me that little old blog has brought me face to face (literally) with this fashion icon. If I accomplish nothing else with it, The Great Wide Open has already given me so much more than I had ever dreamed it would. But I will follow the sage advice Lane offered (of course it was advice meant for young designers who experience sudden success, not bloggers, but it’s great advice for anyone): I will not rest on my laurels. Like Lane, I will continue to follow my passion, push to create more, experience more, write and entertain you more.

But seriously, how do I top this?

Me and KJL 2

I cannot begin to thank Mr. Lane enough for taking the time to meet with me, not to mention the delicious Chinese food. I would also like to thank Vicki Grapsas and the entire KJL team for having me. I was not compensated in any way for this post.

Packing Up and Coming Clean

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I know you are all anxiously awaiting for Part II of my Kenneth Jay Lane interview (you can read Part I here). So am I. But we will all have to wait another week for that masterpiece…because my life got in the way. I have been beating myself up about this, until a friend convinced me (with some tough love) that I should just come clean with you.

I am in the process of moving. I have been packing, moving, organizing and stressing over the past few weeks and have not been able to devote the time and energy to this blog that I usually do, and certainly not the amount that I want in order to write about my fascinating conversation with Mr. Lane. I hold myself, and this blog, to a very high standard and I am simply unwilling to compromise that. So I am not going to rush it, I will take my time to deliver you what I always strive for: creative, original and engaging content.

So this week I am going to share a different type of “adventure” with you.  It’s moving in Boston. It’s a scary and anxiety-producing process that millions of people experience, but one that I did not fully appreciate until the last several weeks.

All my previous apartment hunts have been in Manhattan, where (for better or worse) you can see dozens of places one day and move into one the next. In Boston, the prices are comparable to rents in The City, but the inventory is not. Most leases are up in September (thanks to all those darn students) so searching in February means few options and a lot of competition.  Factor in a condensed moving timeline (just five weeks) and its a recipe for one stressed-out lady. For weeks I scoured the internet for leads and by the time I called, the apartment (which wasn’t all that amazing to begin with) was inevitably “just rented.” It reminded me of whale watching: a whale is “spotted” so you run to the bow of the boat, just to be told that that you “just missed it.” Was it ever really there?

My search was punctuated by late-night anxious phone calls to friends and family, tears, one near rental of the type of trendy hovel now described as “micro apartments” that are invading Boston and New York (I like to be efficient, just not if it means living in less than 300 sq. ft.) and one emotional fender bender during which my victim inquired if I was a sleep-deprived new mother BECAUSE THAT IS HOW INSANE I MUST HAVE APPEARED. Seriously, that happened. While desperately searching for a sliver lining to this chaotic process, I did realize that I’m just one apartment hunt shy of my goal weight, so at least there’s that.

Downtown Crossing

This would have been my “micro apartment.” And yes, that is just about all of it

While my past adventures documented here have helped me become more comfortable with trying new things without fear of failure, my moving experience showed me that I’m still not very good at asking for help. I seem to think I should be able to do everything on my own. While that is a great quality for an independent woman like me to possess, I need to know how, and when, to wave the white flag and call in reinforcements. I am always willing to help my friends with anything at the drop of a hat; I have to allow them to do the same for me.

I did get better at accepting assistance by the time  it came to carrying boxes (and more trash bags full of clothes than I care to admit) up three flights of stairs to my new place. And as it turned out, my friends were essential to guard my upholstered chair on a Beacon Hill curb when passersby started circling like vultures, thinking my possessions were out there for the taking. I even had to chase one woman down the street after she swiped a framed print of mine, claiming she thought it was trash.

I am physically moving over two weekends, so I’m smack-dab in the middle of that process right now. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m emerging from my stress spiral and starting to get excited about this next chapter in my cute new place. This will be the first time I have ever lived alone, so that will bring with it a host of new experiences and emotions. Best of all, I will be decorating the space exactly how I like. I plan to bring you along on that adventure; In the coming weeks I will be spending time with an interior designer and taking the lessons I learn and applying them to my space, so stay tuned for those posts.

This is my (currently empty) new home, I can't wait to make it my own.

This is my (currently empty) new home, I can’t wait to make it my own.

It has been a very stressful time, but with a little help from my friends (and the Beatles) I am almost done, and I will be able to bring you a thoughtful, high quality post about the fabulous Kenneth Jay Lane next week.