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.

Kenneth Jay Lane Part I

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Sometimes when there is a lot of anticipation surrounding an event, you end up disappointed when it doesn’t live up to your mile-high expectations. I find that New Years Eve and birthday parties are prime examples of this phenomenon. Meeting jewelry designer Kenneth Jay Lane was the antithesis.

I arrived at Lane’s showroom on 37th Street in New York’s Fashion District to find him sitting at a round table in the middle of the action. As he stood to greet me I felt more nervous than any other interview I have ever conducted in my career. Journalists must remain objective about their sources, but as my career has morphed from journalist to blogger, I have been able to relax those stringent rules drilled into my head in J School and just have fun. Last Friday I was able to be interviewer and admirer at the same time. Lane and I spoke about his career, his fabulous friends, how the business (not to mention the world) has changed in the fifty years he has been in the jewelry business. This week I’m writing about his work and company, next week will be about about the man himself.

(I am breaking the posts up for several reasons: I have two hours of audio recordings to transcribe and my post about our conversation means a tremendous amount to me. I don’t want to rush the writing of it. This also gives readers who are not as obsessed with Lane as I am valuable background before we dive into our incredible personal conversation).

Lane, who just turned 80, looked dapper in a double-breasted navy blazer, a blue button-down shirt and jeans. He grew up in Michigan, but speaks with the sophisticated inflection of an East Coast patrician. He moved east to attend Rhode Island School of Design, and then to Manhattan. I am a huge fan of his work, and was incredibly curious about what he would be like. I was also a little worried that I may be disappointed by meeting the man behind the animal bangles. What if he was not all that I thought he would be? I had no reason to be worried. In real life Lane is kind and was very generous with his time. He was also funnier than I had expected. As we took our seats at the table I took a moment to soak in my surroundings.  His showroom is filled with his designs, every wall, shelf and surface is covered in rings, animal cuffs and his iconic statement pearl necklaces. This is where buyers from around the world come to choose the Kenneth Jay Lane items that they want to feature in their stores. The different sectioned-off nooks of the showroom are organized by style, color and material.

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And then we started talking…our conversation was easy and engaging, punctuated with laughs, cigarettes and Chinese take out.

Lane said he never expected to be a jewelry designer. He fell into it — he refers to his jewelry career “this funny thing” — in the early 1960’s. He had been designing shoes for Dior when his friend, the legendary Bazaar and Vogue editor Diana Vreeland, suggested he try jewelry. And with that small nudge, a legend was born. Within a month his pieces were in department stores and boutiques up and down Fifth Avenue. One month! That’s a testament not only to his vision, but also his friends and supporters, who, in addition to Vreeland, included the upper echelon of fashion and New York society.

The showroom was filled with Lane's beautiful creation like these bracelets

The showroom was filled with Lane’s beautiful creations

Could this type of over-night success happen in today’s internet age? Probably. One mention by personalities such as Oprah can mean millions of dollars in sales, but there is something so organic about Lane’s speedy success. He came into his own at a more modest time. He observed that in his heyday individuals employed PR representatives “to keep their names out of the paper, not to get them on the front page” as they do today.

Lane speaks about his lengthy career as I imagine any octogenarian would: he is comfortable with what he’s done and all he has accomplished. He said he has no real regrets. It’s a perspective that must come from time and experience. It’s clear that Lane does – and designs – what he likes, and doesn’t seem all that concerned with what other people think. As it so happens, other people love what he designs. He says that “jewelry should be fun,” and his is. From the animal cuffs, to his Art Deco pendants (Art Deco is his favorite styles), to the elaborate gold pieces inspired by his travels to Egypt. His pieces are as popular and relevant as they were decades ago.

One of Lane's newest creations

One of Lane’s newest creations

Lane is a perfectionist. The bracelet above took about a year and a half to get just right, from the shade of the stones (he special orders glass and semi-precious stones from Germany) to their exact placement. His is an artistic process, “But the joy you get from getting it right,” Lane observed, “is quite fun.”

99% of Kenneth Jay Lane jewelry is manufactured in the U.S.A., specifically in a studio off of the showroom. I was able to spend some time in the workshop with the dozens of artisans and support staff who string the pearls and solder the stones (specially chosen for the exact shade). It was incredible not only to see all the beautiful pieces on display, but also see where and how they are made.

Scenes from Lane's Workshop

Scenes from Lane’s workshop

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Stringing pearls

Lane comes to the office every day and remains the company’s only designer. While still extremely popular in the U.S. fifty years after he started, he is also a favorite of women across the globe. In an age when, as a nation, we are so concerned with “keeping up with China,” Kenneth Jay Lane is one of the few brands that exports “Made in America” products to Asia. His pieces are also extremely popular in Japan, Turkey and Almaty, Kazakhstan which is experiencing a major economic boom. Who would have guessed?

Lane does not rest on his laurels. Although you can still buy many of his iconic pieces that shot to popularity decades ago — and remain on-trend today — he continues to develop new products and categories. In August he will launch a line of watches, which he gave me a sneak peek of. One watch in the collection is modeled after the very watch that Lane himself wears. He also took the time to show me a new line of scarves that he is working on. He is 80-years-old and is still inspired to create fresh, new, fanciful pieces of wearable art.

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Kenneth Jay Lane watched, available in August 2013

Kenneth Jay Lane watches, available in August 2013

As with most things related to this blog, my conversation with Lane eventually turned to the discussion of his passion in life, specifically whether designing jewelry is that passion. His answer was simple in its practicality. “Jewelry doesn’t hurt anyone,” the former shoe designer observed. “Shoes can have fit problems,” which is the most polite way to describe women struggling to walk gracefully in uncomfortable heels. Jewelry, especially Kenneth Jay Lane’s, is fun.

When I asked him if designing is more fun now than it was in the 1960’s he did not miss a beat. “Much more fun now,” he explained. “I have much more money now and I don’t mind spending it on experimenting.”

Fifty years later Kenneth Jay Lane is still experimenting, to the great benefit of his fans all over the world, including this one.

Look at that goofy smile on my face. Can you tell I'm excited?

Look at that goofy smile on my face. Can you tell I’m excited?

Stay tuned for next week’s post on my personal conversation with Kenneth Jay Lane in which we covered everything from the idea of celebrity, his famous friends and admirers, how society – and the society pages – have changed over the years and his legacy.

Dreams Really Do Come True

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All of you who have come along on this adventure with me know that this blog has brought me a great deal in a very short time. It has brought me to a place where I am more adventurous, more comfortable in my own skin, more appreciative of my strengths, and (probably most importantly) more accepting of my weaknesses. On Friday this blog will bring me to a place that I never dreamed: face to face with the legendary jewelry designer Kenneth Jay Lane.

Courtesy of Kenneth Jay Lane

Courtesy of Kenneth Jay Lane

For those of you who aren’t familiar with this master’s work, get ready to have your socks knocked off! Mr. Lane, or KJL as many of his fans refer to him, has been designing his own jewelry collection since 1962, and his pieces have been worn by famous (and famously fashionable) women such as Wallis Simpson, (the Duchess of Windsor), Jackie Kennedy and Elizabeth Taylor. Remember Barbara Bush’s signature three-strand pearl choker. Yep, that was JKL.

The Duchess of Windsor in KJL necklaces. Photo by Patrick Lichfield, Vogue 1967

The Duke and Duchess of Windsor in KJL necklaces. Photo by Patrick Lichfield, Vogue, 1967

His jewelry is also loved by a new generation of fashionistas as diverse as Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Michelle Obama (yes, it’s a stretch, but I include myself in this category as well) who love is colorful pieces, many of them animal inspired, covered in lacquer or semi-precious stones. And on Friday I will have the rare and exclusive opportunity to meet and interview the legend himself, learning how he followed his passion for fashion and created an amazing career and life out of it. I will be taking notes hoping that I can learn lessons to apply to my own passion-chasing adventure. I will also be spending time in his studio to see if making jewelry is my life’s next passion.

Michelle Obama in vintage Kenneth Jay Lane earrings

Michelle Obama in vintage Kenneth Jay Lane earrings. Photo by Saul Loeb

I can’t even begin to express how excited I am for this adventure. I am a huge fan. I own several KJL pieces, and love them dearly. Like any good journalist, I have been preparing for the interview of my life intensely.  I have read Mr. Lane’s book (a must read, the pictures are gorgeous and it is a who’s-who of fashion and society), and researched his life.  And you can get in on the action as well. If you have a question you are dying for me to ask Mr. Lane let me know. Leave a comment, email me or tweet me. I will choose a handful and will include the answers in my post.

Tune in next week for my two-part post on the man, and his work. I am filled with butterflies in anticipation of whatever Friday will bring, but one thing is for sure…as he told me himself, via twitter, I will not know what hit me.

KJL Tweet

These Boots were Made for Walk’n

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After learning all about the art of shaping cowboy hats while in Wyoming a few weeks ago, I was struck by all the innate elements of life in parts of our country that I know nothing about. When the idea of “traveling” comes up, I don’t think I am the only person who automatically thinks of wandering through ancient cities abroad as opposed to exploring this diverse country of ours. So when I found myself in Austin, Texas this past weekend, I sought out another local institution to get an education on an item that is a staple in many areas across the nation: the cowboy boot.

It didn’t take much time or effort to identify the perfect spot for my boot-u-cation: Allen’s Boots has been the place to go for boots for over 30 years. To say that their selection is extensive is an understatement; Allen’s has over 10,000 pairs on display at any given time. The incredible knowledgeable sales staff can also help you create custom designed boots through Lucchese, the legendary Texas boot-maker.

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Two of Allen’s best, Andrea and Carole, gave me a history lesson on cowboy boots before helping me find my own perfect pair; my first pair ever. I learned that cowboy boots evolved organically. After the Civil War, Americans traveled west where cattle roamed the plains. The traditional Wellington style of boot worn by soldiers morphed into the cowboy boot we all recognize today out of practicality. For example, the heel allowed a better grip for the foot while in the stirrup, and the leather sole made it easier to get out of that stirrup quickly. Today, cowboy boots are still worn for practical purposes, but also for fashion reasons. Cowboy boots come in a variety of colors, with elaborately stitched designs, including studded versions that are better suited for a strutting down a catwalk than tending to cattle.

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As I wandered up and down the aisles in a trance-like state, I didn’t know where to begin, so I do what I do best: talk to strangers. I decided what I needed — in addition to the experts at Allen’s – was advice from my fellow-shoppers; smart and savvy ladies who have picked out boots before. One woman urged me to choose based on comfort, nothing is worse than boots that hurt. Another wise sage recommended I wait until a pair “spoke to me.” So tried to channel my inner boot whisperer to make contact with my perfect pair of boots.

And it worked, I found them! They were gorgeous; supple buffalo hide in a shade of auburn the color of port with leather embellishment along the toe. They fit perfectly, and felt incredibly comfortable as I sauntered up and down the aisle. Then I checked the price tag. Of course, the boots that spoke to me were $1,500 Lucchese masterpieces. I decided that I could not speak back to this particular pair. I quickly yanked them off my feet before I fell deeper in love. No need to waste my time on something that will never work out (words to live by in many areas of life, don’t you think?). I had to balance my love with both fiscal responsibility as well as the practicality of the situation. I live in Boston, not fertile soil for cowboy boots. Maybe simple was the way to go for my first pair, to ease into the trend, and see how I incorporate them into my urban wardrobe.

The Beautiful Lucchese's, they only run $1,500

The Beautiful Lucchese’s, they only run $1,500

In far less dramatic fashion I chose an all-black pair of Ariats. The brand was founded by two former Reebok employees who brought their knowledge of sneaker technology to cowboy boots in the form of an athletic show insole. And they did feel like slipping into a pair of broken-in running shoes. Now, I know what you are thinking, practical, shmactical. If I am going to get a pair of cowboy boots, why not go big or go home? Well, it is  precisely because of the fact that I do have to go home (to Boston) that I wanted to get a pair that I may actually wear, as opposed to just collect dust in my closet. The boots I decided on are simple enough that I feel confident I will be able to integrate them into my existing wardrobe, which leans more toward colorfully refined than country rugged.

The practical choice

The practical choice

This is where you come in, I hope. I’d love to hear how you suggest I wear my new cowboy boots! Leave a comment below, send an email, tweet or tag me in an instagram picture bringing your suggestion to life. I will try out some of the suggestions and post pictures. Giddy up!

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Texas Forever

Texas Forever

Many thanks to Andrea and Carole, and all the wonderful people at Allen’s Boots, who were so generous with their time and knowledge during my cowboy boot education session. If you find yourself in Austin, you need to visit Allen’s Boots. It’s a must!