I just switched up our candle game to test the LAFCO Duchess Peony candle for spring/summer. I am late to the game with this brand but I love (!) that they market their candles by room — so clever and evocative. A few of my other favorite warm weather candles:
+Seda Japanese Quince (very strongly fragranced of summer fruits and florals, which I like — a little goes a long way);
“There was dinner one night at Rose Café and another at Gjelina. It was chilly that night after dinner, and we stopped at Salt & Straw for ice cream, and there was a guy working there from Brooklyn. It felt magical walking home with you—arms wrapped around me with your head resting on the top of my chest. Everything was happening.”
Everything was happening.
I loved the phrasing — his capture of the simultaneous nothingness and enormity of walking through life with your very best friend. It brought to mind my birthday dinner last summer, when I found Mr. Magpie reanimated after nearly year of constant stress — the way that nothing specific happened, but everything felt transformed, expansive.
But oh, the article, its heartbreak — pass the tissues.
“…That night, before the Thanksgiving dinner we’d managed to pull off in our narrow galley kitchen, its counters about a tenth the size of the ones we’d enjoyed in Chicago, Mr. Magpie offered to read the Thanksgiving prayer my father has read every Thanksgiving for as long as I can remember. It’s written in my mother’s loopy script, photocopied so many times it’s faintly legible. Something swelled inside. Mr. Magpie is not a Catholic; he does not attend Mass with mini and I. And so I recognized in this gesture the depth of his commitment to the three of us as a family unit, adopted religious traditions and all.
“For food in a world where many walk in hunger;
For faith in a world where many walk in fear;
For friends in a world where many walk alone;
We give you thanks, O Lord.”
I bowed my head as he started to read these lines, but mini started squawking and I looked up at her. Mr. Magpie stopped after the second line, broke off abruptly. I glanced over, wondering if he was waiting for mini to settle down before he’d proceed, and noticed instead that he was clenching and unclenching his jaw. He cleared his throat once, then again. Then took a breath, and read the last two lines.
I walked around the table, squeezed his shoulder. We sat quietly for a minute, composing ourselves…”
+I absolutely adore these 6 oz crescent juice glasses. I use them for — duh — juice (we drink fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning and during this pregnancy, I have often craved strawberry lemonade?) but, post-pregnancy, they’re my preferred drinking glass for wine and especially little glasses of cava.
+Speaking of booze — if you or your man are a cocktail lover: Mr. Magpie has been OBSESSED with this cocktail book. We have mysterious shipments of obscure liquors arriving on the regular from Astor Wine nowadays (what is cherry heering?), and I’ll often find Mr. Magpie sitting on the couch for a good fifteen or twenty minutes, debating which cocktail to make next.
+Recently fell hard for a new-to-me label, Mira Mikati. The colors are AMAZING — I’m loving this dress in particular, on sale for 50% off!
+Just ordered micro this circle bib and mini this apron bib from new-to-me label Louelle. Mini hasn’t worn a bib in a long while but we have also recently destroyed a few pricey pieces from her wardrobe thanks to popsicles and juicy fruit, so I thought this might be a good investment for freezer treats and the like. Note: get 20% off with code SUMMER20! On the subject of bibs, I love the prints/colors on these blue bibs for micro, too.
By: Jen Shoop
I’ve noticed a microtrend lately: daisy prints. Florals have been big the last few seasons, but now we’re getting hyper-specific in our botanical print trends and turning to the shy simplicity of the daisy. The Gul Hurgel gown shown above (also available in a mini size…swoon!) stopped me in my tracks, and ever since then, I’ve not been able to browse the web without stopping to consider something daisy-adorned. Below, my favorite finds:
Unrelated: Serena & Lily is having a major sale (20% off everything with code SUMMERPREP) and I love this lamp, these upholstered swivel chairs (we are already planning to replace our blue club chairs when we move in the fall — they’ve pretty much been destroyed between our rowdy dog and our spill-prone toddler, and these are my top pick for a replacement, in that blue and white gingham!!!), and — of course — this stepstool, which I’ve written about dozens of times in the past. So chic and endlessly useful. (Also, the promo does not apply to sale items, but at $35/pop, these are a great pick for throw pillows for a couch in that chic sky blue or rich navy!)
When I was growing up, my mother would sit at the dining room table every Sunday morning, clipping coupons from the circulars and planning our meals for the week accordingly. She’d then post a weekly menu on the fridge in her loopy script — “Monday, Meat Loaf; Tuesday, Tuna Casserole; Wednesday, Salmon…” (we ate as though we still lived in the 1960s for much of my childhood) — and when she fielded the inevitable whiny “What’s for dinner?”, she’d direct us to “the menu” with a knowing look, shrugging off complaints, as if to say: “Well, sorry. That’s the menu. It’s immutable. Etched in stone. It’s been handed down by God.” After mapping out our meals, she’d draw up tidy grocery lists on narrow pads of paper, organized by store aisle. Such was the impressive scope of her organizational skills–and the depth of her familiarity with our neighborhood grocery. When we’d descend upon the supermarket, shopping was an organized affair in spite of the fact that she was often accompanied by five (!) children clambering for her attention: aisle by aisle, meticulously selecting the pieces on her list, no ingredient forgotten and — usually — no last-minute add-ins permitted. The staff behind the bakery counter routinely gifted us small, flavorless butter cookies in squares of parchment paper: the highlight of these perfunctory bi-weekly excursions.
Grocery shopping with my Dad was far more eventful. I remember him lingering in the produce section, tossing big bags of not-on-sale plump cherries and pricey fruit preserves into the cart, asking for samples of exotic cheese, palming little gold tins of fruit hard candies. Even better: he almost always gave in to special requests. “Can I get these chips?” He’d glance over and nod, distracted by an exotic $7 melon. “How about these gummy worms?” “Uh, sure.”
Looking back now, I understand my mother’s seeming austerity when it came to meal-planning and grocery-shopping: it was not only a major and time-consuming part of her weekly duties (she shopped every Monday and Thursday, usually needing that second trip to refill the larder with extra gallons of milk, jugs of juice, and produce) and therefore needed to be handled with efficiency, but her approach pre-empted questions and enabled a lot of other activities in our household to run smoothly. She was able to structure her days in order to prepare whatever needed to be prepared for dinner on an appropriate timetable, whether that meant putting something in the oven two hours early or dicing vegetables in the morning so she’d have time to get the meal on the table by six in between carpool and after-school activities.
But at the time, I felt as though meals were a perfunctory, borderline saturnine component of our lives: something to be ticked off rather than enjoyed. When I lived abroad in France, I vowed to “shop like the Europeans,” picking up a fresh cheek of fish and a handful of fingerling potatoes from the farmer’s markets that cluttered the squares of Lyon — or stopping into the local supermarket for baskets of in-season cherries and wedges of emmentaler cheese with a fresh baguette. “This is how you live,” I thought, fashioning myself as a bon vivant, indulging in the delicacies of the season.
Mr. Magpie lived in this way for most of our married lives: a stop at the grocery every day or two or three to pick up whatever was needed for supper and the next couple of days. A couple yogurts, a handful of plums, some fancy seeded crackers.
It wasn’t until our move to New York and mini’s entry into toddlerhood that I found myself sloping towards my mother’s habits, understanding, for the first time, the tremendous cost- and time-savings she managed to accrue owing to her hyper-organization around meal planning. I started placing routine Instacart orders for staples every Sunday: milk, yogurt, fruit, sparkling water, butter, vegetable must-haves like lettuce and cucumber, sandwich bread. I started keeping meticulous inventory of pantry staples like Justin’s peanut butter, Bonne Maman jam, McCann’s rolled oats, and mini’s favorites snacks (freeze-dried fruits, goldfish, applesauce pouches) and ordered back-ups whenever they were discounted. And then, in the last couple of months, Mr. Magpie and I started sitting down on Saturday mornings to plan our meals for the week like two blue-hairs from the 1950s. We poke fun at ourselves for this, but I can’t explain the amount of undue stress it has removed from our lives. You see, Mr. Magpie is a foodie. I could probably get by with a last-minute omelette or a clean-out-the-fridge salad and hunk of bread for most dinners. But Mr. Magpie needs a well-rounded meal — protein, veg, starch — and he likes variety over the course of a week. Most of our meal planning touches upon which protein we should have (“but we just had chicken last night!”) and how to vary the cuisine (“too much Mexican recently — what about some Vietnamese?”) I nurture his dietary predilections because he does more than half the cooking around here and I’m not in a position to complain, and, besides, I benefit from his varied palate. I’m not a song repeater, but when I like something, I’ll eat it every day for weeks if you let me — something that amuses and frustrates him. So he’ll sit with a stack of our favorite cookbooks in front of him and toss out ideas while I’ll call out some of our “staple dishes” until we’ve rounded out the menu for the week. We nearly always plan to make enough to have leftovers of each dish a second night so that we only cook three nights a week — unless we’re cooking seafood. Neither of us like second-day fish. And then he or I or both of us will head down to the butcher on Sunday morning after Church (we’ve noticed a precipitous decline in the quality of meat from Whole Foods in the last two years and now nearly always buy our meat from either Dickson’s Farm Stand, Eataly, or the Union Square farmer’s market) and I’ll add whatever other ingredients we need to our weekly Instacart order.
Oh, the birdsong I have heard ever since we adopted my mother’s formerly stodgy-seeming habits–especially now that we have made an effort to eat with mini at the table alongside us. I usually get dinner started (sometimes completed) while Mr. Magpie is still at work, and he’ll come home and finish things off, especially when there’s a steak to be pan-seared or a roast chicken to be carved, duties I am sure I could master but that I have always relegated to him, as master chef and man of the house. Pasta is usually under his purview, too: he’s a master at cooking it to the perfect level of al dente (P.S. — if you haven’t bought bronze-cut pasta from Afeltra, you haven’t lived; it totally changes the quality of even the most basic of pasta dishes. We buy it in bulk quantities from Eataly every time we are down in Flatiron.) and he’s gotten quite good at the art of “marrying” the sauce to the noodle by incorporating just the right amount of starchy cooking water.
Or if we’re both at home, I often handle the sides (and always the salads — I’m good at making homemade dressing) while he’ll treat the protein, as he’s particular about dry-brining and wrapping or not wrapping his meats in the fridge the night before. I can never keep up with his latest discoveries: does he like to let his pre-seasoned steaks sit on a wire rack, loosely covered in a dish cloth, or has that now been superseded by a new experiment with saran wrap? These are the intricacies of food preparation that interest me not at all, but that — I know — mark the difference between us as home cooks: he is all about detail and process, and I prefer…we’ll call it pragmatism in the kitchen, and I’m quite certain he’s a better cook than I am for it. But. If he hands me that damn Zuni book one more time with its over-fussy instructions, I might scream. Of course, the recipes always turn out flawlessly and I think, “OK, fine. Maybe he has a point.” But reading her recipes is like sparring with a really nit-picky know-it-all. “Add a decent amount of oil, but not enough to wilt the leaf. Chop the parsley finely but not too finely or you will break down the cellular…BLAH BLAH BLAH.” It’s like that scene in Forgetting Sarah Marshall when Paul Rudd is telling Jason Segel how to stand up on a surfboard: “OK, pop up. No, do less. Pop up. Do more. You gotta do more. Pop up. Do less man.”
But I digress.
The bottom line is this:
Somewhere over the course of the last six months, we have evolved into new, more disciplined and organized, versions of ourselves. A part of me wants to say that this is owing to the imminent arrival of a second child and a corresponding need to stay even more organized than before. A part of me wants to say that New York has forced this orderliness upon us, as grocery shopping is no longer as easy as jumping in a car: there are crowded supermarkets, subways to navigate, long check-out lines, empty Oatly shelves (why is New York perpetually suffering from a shortage of Oatly?), the trickiness of knowing how much you can carry home in two bags with you, the fancy footwork of making sure you schedule your Instacart order appropriately as sometimes — especially in inclement weather — they will experience a surge in orders and be unable to deliver until the following day. But most of me knows that this is part of the inevitable march of time, the slow evolution of my youthful self into a version of my mother, a coming of age, a welcoming of this new, heavy-on-the-vine season of life.
How do you plan your meals?
Post-Scripts.
+There are two items at the top of my kitchen gear wishlist: a Smeg four-slice toaster (we currently have a very good, perfectly proficient two-slice toaster but I am already finding that I am toasting things in batches for just three of us and I love the styling — but DO note that this thing is HUGE so I will need to make sure it actually fits in our next kitchen/after we move in the fall) and a Vitamix blender. We have a decent blender by Breville (actually the first kitchen appliance Mr. Magpie and I ever co-owned…one that led to quite a lot of hand-wringing TBH) but we’ve come to the conclusion that there is simply nothing as powerful as a Vitamix and any other blender is subpar. (Read reviews!) We’re in a place where we don’t use our blender enough to legitimize the purchase of a new one “just because it’s better” but…I’d love it.
+I daydream of an enormous pantry lined with utility shelving where I can stow every possible ingredient and access it with ease. One day, my friends. One day. And I will stow everything in these and these in tidy rows.
+Nothing tickles my organizational fancy more than my beloved label maker. It truly sparks joy in my soul. I actually might buy one of these for my sister — I think she’d get a kick out of it, too.
+New spring-to-summer candle scent: Lafco’s Duchess Peony. How did I not know about this elegant scent? Obsessed!
+These are the best solution for food/leftover storage. They never warp or color, can be microwaved, and create an airtight seal. Also, you’re never left trying desperately to shoe-horn one side of the tupperware top onto the lip of the bowl like you are with those plastic cheapies. When we move to NY, we threw away all of our plastic tupperware and invested in a good set of these and I’m so happy we did.
+Is it embarrassing to admit that I sent Mr. Magpie a birthday wish list and among several of the items here (at the top of my wishlist: this bag), I included this Miele vacuum? I’ve mentioned my love for this vacuum about two dozen times on this blog but I really, really want to upgrade to it.
+This is a super clever solution. We use colanders but I occasionally find that the water in the base of the sink floods the basin of the colander, which is kind of gross.
+Another random thing that sparks joy in my organization-loving soul: these can organizers, which I use to stow all of our sparkling water and San Pellegrinos. Stowing the boxes in the fridge blocks out a lot of light and also tends to take up too much space. It was actually hard to find a soda can organizer that stacked, but this one does! And the lid means you can stow extra stray cans and other items on top.
+Did anyone else grow up with a breadbox in their home? Mr. Magpie finds this product so bizarre (and we certainly lack the counterspace for one at present), but we always kept bread in one of these. It’s meant to keep bread fresh and also — I like the fact that it keeps it all organized.
+Unrelated, but just ICYMI: my favorite caftan is on sale for only $60! I now own this in multiple prints/patterns and wear them alllll summer long.
+This post reminded me of my musings on adulting, part I and II.
By: Jen Shoop
I had a friend recently reach out to rave about her MZ Wallace tote as an everyday mom essential during the winter months — but now, what to wear during the summer, while frequenting the pool and beach? She noted that the bottom of her LL Bean tote is constantly soggy with damp bathing suits, pool toys, etc, and that she’s looking for something a bit more water-resistant. Below, my top picks:
+My first thought was one of these sporty State of Escape neoprene bags. I’ve had my eye on these for a long while. They are incredibly lightweight, have an “aqua and sand seal” that prevent too much moisture/debris from getting in, and are delightfully roomy. I like this white one. (N.B.: There are a number of dupe styles on Amazon that get decent reviews, like this and this. Could be worth considering if you’re not sold on the price of the State of Escape O.G.)
+I love my Pam Munson plaid tote and intend to use it as my beach/pool bag, as its fabric is coated in a water-resistant/wipable material. The handles make it mildly impractical if you’re running errands and holding children/hands, but if your primary purpose is to schlep stuff to the pool and park it on a chair, this would be magical. So chic! This Solid & Striped one is similar (coated vinyl fabric) but includes a shoulder strap — could be another good pick! This boxy trapeze shape is VERY on trend right now, so it’s perfect for this summer. (Same goes for this Staud, the ultimate in water -resistance given its PVC fabrication!) Still, I get that there’s always a balance between fashion-forwardness and function…
+Another thought: an affordably-priced ScoutBags tote. These are wipable, stand up on their own, and — thanks to a reasonable pricepoint — aren’t overly precious if they do wind up dirtied by the summer’s end. I have a couple of their bags in different shapes and styles and I like them for toting crap around.
+BestMadeCo is one of my secret sources for gifts for men, but they have a really nice, roomy *coated* canvas boat tote that might be worth considering. I like the minimalist styling and zip top — though note the handles; you’ll run into the same issue as you would with the Pam Munson plaid tote if you need to be hands-free while wearing it. I wonder if you could get my girl Inslee to handpaint one of these for you with your initials…
+Bargain buy: the Hinza tote. I’ve raved about these many times in the past (it actually made my list of my favorite purchases in 2018!) but they are the ultimate utility bag. I use them to stow bath gear for mini in our master bathroom, tote groceries in it (LOVE hooking this onto one of my Think King stroller hooks and shopping right into it, which I’m sure Whole Foods hates, but how are you supposed to wield a shopping cart and a stroller simultaneously in a narrow Manhattan supermarket?!), pack picnics, etc. I love that it’s structured/stands up on its own, lightweight, and very easy to clean (you can literally rinse it off in the sink). This would be a really solid pick for pool gear. (Note: other Magpie moms have written in with similar rave reviews of the Bogg Bag. Personally, I prefer the styling — and price! –of the Hinza, but this would achieve a similar effect!)
+Parker Thatch Big Easy tote. OK, so this one is probably no better than your soggy LL Bean tote, but I am in love with the enormousness of this Mary Poppins bag, and the monogram is major! You could solve for sogginess by carrying a couple of wet/dry bags — I love these ones from PBKids (on sale!), which I’ve had monogrammed with both childrens’ names.
+Splurge pick: this Simon Miller, which is actually made of a rubberized material! Super elegant and high-end but also practical. The bottom is lined in leather, though, so you’d definitely need those wet/dry bags.
While on the topic of beachwear, a few things to note:
My head is spinning with all of the incredible sales raging right now. I already did a roundup of some of my favorite Moda Operandi sale scores, but a couple of other finds you need to know about before they sell out:
I ADORE THE CUT OF THIS SUIT (I OWN IT IN A DIFFERENT COLORWAY) — IT’S NOW UNDER $65 AND IN A GREAT FOURTH OF JULY STRIPE!
I ORDERED THIS EMILIA WICKSTEAD AS AN OPTION FOR MY BABY SHOWER BUT IT DIDN’T WORK QUITE RIGHT WITH MY 7.5-MONTH BUMP — NOW I WANT TO RE-ORDER IN MY TRUE SIZE…
I love the story behind the block print linens at India Amory: the line’s founder, Julia Amory, was searching for printed fabric to use at her wedding in the Hamptons and could not find anything that fit her vision, so she set out to create her own using the traditional Indian block print technique. Necessity is truly the mother of invention, n’est-ce pas? Recognizing an opportunity to fill a void in the market, Amory decided to make her linens available to others in the same boat — and her company, India Amory, was born. She now offers everything from table linens to robes (I especially love this bow print style) in the sweetest block prints, and at a reasonable price.
I had the opportunity to connect with this clever entrepreneur (and veteran of the financial services industry) and had her share her answers to my go-to Proust Questionnaire:
Your favorite qualities in a woman. Confidence and the ability to be supportive of others.
Your favorite heroine. My younger sister, who endlessly supports me in all matters of neurosis.
Your main fault. Useless anxiety.
Your greatest strength. My capacity to execute.
Your idea of happiness. Bermuda with my husband and no cell phones.
Your idea of misery. Going back to working in finance.
Currently at the top of your shopping lust list. Replacing my favorite sisal Stubbs & Wootton mules — which they’ve discontinued, so I’ll have to order custom. (Boo!) [Ed. note: these S&W mules are stunning and on sale.]
A Fairchild Baldwin white beaded collar necklace for summer. [Ed. note: you can score stunning, gently-used pieces from this statement jewelry line at RealReal, like this style!]
I feel most empowered wearing… Anything that is flattering to my figure.
I highly recommend you follow Julia on Instagram — she has the most exquisite taste, whether she’s wearing Zara or Oscar de la Renta. (She’s also currently expecting a child, and I’m sure her baby will be impeccably dressed!) Below, some picks inspired by her chic, Hamptons-esque style:
+Wicker x-bench — SUCH a good value! It looks like one from Serena and Lily that costs three times as much. So cute at the foot of a bed or tucked under a console. Or get a similar vibe by layering this inexpensive wicker tray atop an upholstered bench. (Two other really good value buys for this overall vibe at home: this inexpensive sisal runner and these $5 chargers. And more in this style family here.)
P.P.S. A lot of the personal style pieces above would look excellent paired with something linen; the home decor pieces would get along swimmingly with the picks in this wicker and rattan roundup.
I probably own north of a dozen white blouses, and will not bat an eye adding more to the wardrobe. When I have no idea what to wear, I can always lean into a white blouse in an on-trend or fashion-forward cut paired with white jeans or my favorite dark-wash skinnies. I also happen to think that buying any top in stark white is a great bet, regardless of price tag — white tends to look more expensive than a lot of other colors for some reason. At any rate: right now, it’s all about volume — big sleeves, dramatic wrist detailing, a cropped or cinched silhouette to offset it all. And no one does a white, frothy volume quite like Cecilie Bahnsen (seen above and below), whose pieces are at the tippy top of my lust list. I would love to own this or this.
Below, a range of white statement blouses (at all pricepoints), taking cues from these street style stunners:
Does anyone remember that country song by Craig Morgan, “That’s What I Love About Sunday”? I actually love it, with the exception of one section that, even when I first heard the song in college, has always made me cringe:
“…I stroll to the end of the drive Pick up the Sunday times, grab a coffee cup Looks like sally and rob finally tied the knot Well, it’s about time It’s thirty-five cents off a ground round Baby, cut that coupon out…”
It’s just…the words “ground round” and “baby cut that coupon out” should just not be in the lyrics of any song in my opinion. HA.
But. Speaking of Sundays and saving money — have you seen the Moda Operandi sale?! AHHHHH. There are so many incredible finds — and right now I’m in a major dress-buying mode, so the prices are irristible. Below, my favorite sale finds:
P.S. I’ve had multiple friends rave over the surprisingly flattering fit of this Marysia one-piece and it’s now on sale in a chic gray color…OR get the look for less with this $100 dupe.
Normally, icebreakers are cringe-worthy affairs. But there was one powerful one I participated in while enrolled in an executive program in social entrepreneurship a few years back (…was that another life?). The professor specialized in the role of storytelling in business, and so it made sense that she prompted us to introduce ourselves by sharing our own stories. But there was a catch: I had to share my entire life story in three words.
On the surface of it, an impossible task.
But think of Ernest Hemingway’s possibly apocryphal six-word short story:
“Baby shoes.
For sale.
Never used.“
(Is that a shot to the heart or what?)
I focused principally on telling the story of my career: I’d jagged from aspirations to earn a Ph.D. in literature to many years in the educational non-profit space, and I summed myself up with: “Teaching, building, still learning.”
I remember being riveted by the word choices of those around me — some who played it safe, like I had, by sticking to career choices and roles; others who shared their tenderest vulnerabilities with words like “widow,” “survivor,” “dreamer.”
I occasionally play this icebreaker with myself, checking in to see how far I’ve come from my pre-motherhood, pre-writing-dense days, when I was ensconced in a profession I found equal parts challenging, humbling, and satisfying.
Nowadays, when I zoom way out and look back at myself, I see first and foremost my attachment to my loved ones, how it has become clearer with age that the only thing that really matters, in the end, are my interactions with and devotions to them. I think also of my evolution as a woman: I have more grit and stamina now, even though I am currently flagging under the emotionally crowded conditions of being over thirty-nine weeks pregnant. And I think finally of my commitment to writing, curating, communicating with and to all of you. How it has filled a void, how it has made me feel as though I am in flight — seeing, experiencing things from a different perspective, and also constantly in motion. How to corral these sideways tugs and pulls into three words, I wonder?
Devoted // creative // in ascent.
Or
Blooming // rooted // loved.
Or or or.
How would you describe your own story in three words?
“…On rare occasions, my father would have a hankering for cinnamon toast — usually around nine p.m., when “the kitchen was closed,” as my mother put it, and such extravagances felt illicit. He’d toast white bread (does white bread even exist anymore?) and douse it with cinnamon sugar he kept in a small tupperware for just such occasions and then cut it, hastily, on the diagonal. He’d usually make a big stack of four or five pieces of toast and we’d inhale them together, often on the floor by the fireplace in our sunroom…
It was rainy and cool the other morning — not cold, exactly, but damp in a way that settled into my bones. I’d recently come across James Blake’s arresting version of “Vincent,” a song my father loved when we were growing up. (I believe the original song was by Don McLean, but I could be wrong.) I listened to it three times in a row, like a weirdo, as I walked through 15 blocks of driving rain. (It was just far enough to be a nuisance, but taking the subway one stop felt wrong.) There’s something breathtakingly artful about the word choice in the lyrics: “the snowy linen land”? “weathered faces lined in pain”? And then the real kicker: “with eyes that know the darkness of my soul”?!?! Holy cow.
And I thought about my Dad, about the recent email he’d sent all of my siblings and siblings-in-law urging us to re-read The Great Gatsby as he had, just a week earlier, concluding the short email with: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” I thought about my father’s love of language (Fitzgerald is, in my opinion, the ultimate in artful writing and I often worry that he will be written off as a thin aesthete in years to come, underrated for a time to come). I thought about how moved my father can be by the mot juste — how he has repeated back to me on many occasions one of the captions of an Instagram I posted when minimagpie was just a few weeks old: “I can’t believe she’s mine.” He’ll say this to me and put his hand over his heart, as if to say: “Oh, my heart.” And I thought about how capable a writer he is himself. How often he says the right thing at the right time — as when he told me, without preamble: “Motherhood suits you.” Just casually, tucked into an otherwise unremarkable Saturday afternoon. How those words have never left me. How I sometimes look in the mirror and say those words to myself, turning my face to the left and to the right, analyzing my angles: “Motherhood suits you.” How sometimes I doubt myself in my new role as a mother and then, his voice arrives — “Motherhood suits you.” My own chorus. My own Mount Helicon, too.
So when I walked through the door, feet wet and heart aching, I knew exactly what I needed: cinnamon toast.”
+I absolutely love this tiered fruit basket. We always — *always* — have at least three or four bowls of produce on our counter: citrus, bananas, allium, and miscellaneous fruit that’s better left to ripen on countertop (i.e., mango, kiwi, stone fruit). This would make the kitchen so much tidier. (And also, did you know you’re supposed to keep certain fruits/vegetables separate? Like putting potatoes alongside onions is a no-no — they’ll spoil more quickly! — and the same goes for bananas and tomatoes?
+Literally devastated this gorgeous Brock Collection blouse is sold out in my size — it’s 75% off! May have to console myself with this Brock-like frock (under $100 — incidentally, a great pick for a summer wedding, and so many of you have written requesting wedding guest attire recently!).
+Ordered this botanical-print button-down dress (on sale for under $100) — OBSESSED with the print, and I own virtually nothing green. Will look perfect with straw accessories, and it’s nursing friendly!
My girlfriend Alison will often send me a note in the mail instead of dropping me an email or shooting me a text to thank me for a cup of coffee or invite me to tea with girlfriends. Is there anything more elegant or rewarding? The vision of her sitting quietly at her beautifully appointed home, dashing off a quick word or two on her beautiful stationery, makes me feel loved and also reminds me that not everything needs to be done today, in five second stretches of attention. Sometimes we can afford to wait a day for a thought to reach a friend, or for a gathering to come together. Her notes remind me of the elasticity and gift of time — and encourage me to sit down, on occasion, without any intention of doing anything but staring out the window and having a think, as someone might have done “in the old days.”
At any rate, one lovely Magpie wrote in to request a roundup of some of my favorite affordable stationery sources, and it was oddly prescient, as I’d already been teeing this post up for some time, in a kind of loving homage to my friend Alison. May we all take a page out of her book, sit down, and write a little love note to a girlfriend, or an invitation to coffee, or a “thank you for that time you let me unravel on the phone because nothing and everything was wrong and I am nine months pregnant and over-wrought with nerves,” a card that, incidentally, I owe my sister today.
Affordable Stationery Sources for Adults.
+Haute Papier. You’ll be hard pressed to find more affordable personalized letterpress stationery. I love the range of monograms and colors they offer, and am especially drawn to the shadow-drop bold initials of the M39 style of monogram. (Also love their monogrammed cups for a special birthday weekend or festivity.)
+Dinglewood Design — another well-priced letterpress shop. I used them to make mini’s birth announcements (a custom variation on this) and they turned out beautifully. I especially love this style for personal stationery.
+Personalized notepads! As a perennial list-maker and note-leaver, I have these in practically every drawer of my house.
+Kate Spade’s boxed initial sets are a great and affordable way to get the monogram look without the price tag. The quality of her paper is insane, too. (Also love the clever expressions on a lot of her box sets — I mean, how a propos is this set in relation to Alison’s ethos?!)
+No matter what, I always have a set of staid stationery from Crane or Boatman Geller with our family name on it (“The Shoops”) and the return address on the back of the envelope. I can’t tell you how often I’ve needed stationery that reads elegant and serious — grown-up stationery, if you will — for condolences, professional interactions, notes to neighbors, etc. Neiman’s almost always has Boatman Geller pieces on sale and I usually snag them on promotion in big boxes once a year. Most recently, I bought this set.
+Preppy Prodigy — I am constantly reordering from here. They ship quickly (and for free) and have affordable, clean styles that are neither too baby-ish or too grown-up. I’ve ordered a bunch of their fruit-print styles and I love their book plates (great gift to send along with a book or two as a gift for a kiddo) and stickers, too.
P.S. For fellow letter-writers: you need these pens. They are my all-time favorite — I have tiny, precise handwriting and they make my life very happy. I also love this Caran D’Ache pen Mr. Magpie gave me for Christmas. I carry it in my handbag daily and it brings me such joy.
Q: I am looking for a special college graduation gift of jewelry for a girl (ideas include something like the Tiffany Elsa Peretti gold diamond necklace) between $500-$1000… is this an impossible feat? I feel like you would know or have good advice 🙂
A: Ooh la la, what a lovely gift for a gal. I have a few thoughts.
+On the trendier side (if she’s a fashionista), I absolutely adore the Hermes clic clac bracelet my husband bought me nearly a decade ago. I wear it constantly. Very stylish!
+On the “heirloom” side, I am smitten with a new-to-me label based here in NYC called Aurelia Demark. The founder is lovely (used to design for Tory Burch) and has exquisite pieces. Some of their small pendants would fit your budget, and you can get them engraved on the back with date (you could do her graduation date!) and/or initials. Super special!
+On the high-end side, a bit over your budget, but I have been lusting after a Van Cleef & Arpel bracelet like this forever.
+My husband gave me a Mikimoto pearl pendant necklace similar to this one (but with a diamond embellishment) on our wedding day and I cherish it. Mikimoto is THE brand for pearls, but not every gal is a pearl girl.
I also think just about anything from Tiffany is appropriate for a graduation gift, so you’re on the right track already. Who doesn’t love seeing that little Tiffany box on a big occasion?!
P.S. A couple of other thoughts on gift ideas for gals at a lower price point.
Q: I have little storage at home and have a few bulky winter blankets to store. Any tips?
A: Oh, I so feel you on this one. The best solution for us has been to stow out of season clothes and bulkier items in these Ziploc Space Bags. They aren’t a perfect solution — I find that they don’t stay “sucked up” permanently and eventually air gets in — but they are as good a solution as I could find for stowing bulkier items in as small a space as possible.
P.S. I shared a lot of my other favorite gear for small apartments here.
Q: What toy did you end up having mini buy for micro?
A: I ended up buying one of the gorgeous DeBuci Baby bears with my son’s name embroidered on it. I thought it would be special to have her present something to him that specifically has his name on it, and that is sort of heirloom-worthy. My hope is that my son will have that bear forever and understand it as a gift from his big sister! On the flipside, my son will give mini this Bullseye toy from Toy Story. Mini LOVES the Toy Story series and especially loves her Woody doll. I thought it was cute that he’d be giving her Woody’s trusty sidekick/buddy.
Q: Will you continue to live in your current apartment or move to a larger place?
A: We will be moving this fall! We are busting at the seams already, and micro hasn’t even arrived. We are looking at three-bedroom apartments in Manhattan right now — if we can swing it, possibly one with a small fourth bedroom/den/second living area that I can convert into an office for writing, ideally with a Murphy bed or daybed to accommodate guests. Our biggest dilemma is whether to buy or rent. We simply cannot make up our minds on whether we imagine ourselves raising our children here for the longer-term or moving somewhere with more space. Could we be suburban people? It’s funny how my perspective on this subject has changed. I used to be a ringleader for urban living: “I’d rather live in a shoebox in the city than a big house in the suburbs!” Now, though, with a large dog, two children, and some of the fleeting concerns I’ve shared about my children’s exposure to “normal” childhood pastimes, I’m not so sure. Selfishly, too, I work from home and crave the space to sprawl out and write and think — one that isn’t cluttered with toys, city sounds, foot traffic, etc. I dream of having a backyard to grill in, watching my babies run around in bare feet, letting Tilly roam around, unfettered. On the flipside, I can feel Manhattan extending its tentacles around us with every passing month, as our friendships grow stronger, as mini heads off to school this fall, as we become more engrained in the flow of life here.
Long story short: we will be moving, but TBD on whether this will be a move to own or rent.
Q: I’ve just been invited to a wedding in Maine in July for which the rehearsal dinner dress code reads “summer party casual” and the dress code for the wedding which is in a rustic barn venue reads “barn cocktail” Any thoughts?
A: For the rehearsal dinner — my first thought was a chic and on-trend jumpsuit like this or this. If a jumpsuit isn’t in your wheelhouse, a simple sundress like this, this, this, or this dressed down with some easy slides. Alternately, I’m DYING over the idea of some elegant linen trousers with a smocked top like this.
For the wedding, I like something romantic and boho, like this, this, or this. Or anything from LoveShackFancy, which feels synonymous with “barn cocktail.”
Q: What are your favorite shows on Netflix?
A: I saw a meme once that said something like “I pay my monthly Netflix bill so that I have permanent access to Parks & Rec and The Office.” That pretty much captures it for me — I almost always fall asleep with reruns of one of these two shows on. I also love The Great British Baking Show. I think that it captures the American obsession with all things British so well — so civilized, so mannered, so mild. I feel like an American version of the show would be riddled with drama and verbal warfare.
More generally on the TV show front, we have been making our way through Billions on HBO, which we watch while vacillating between eye-widened fascination and eye-rolling (a lot of the characters feel so improbable and ridiculously sketched) and we just consumed Pen15 in one long drink — it is so cringe-worthy and truthful and weird and hilarious. I loved VEEP (just finished) and we’re sticking with Game of Thrones because everyone else is, but it’s a pretty crappy final season.
Basically, we’re boring. Many nights recently, I’ve been preferring to read while Mr. Magpie watches Nats games on his MLB sports package…
Q: My husband and I are going to a black tie party in early June at the MFA in Boston – and the dress code is “creative black tie.” I’m totally at a loss and have looked at so many dresses that I can hardly tell what I like anymore. What would you suggest? I’m pear shaped so a defined waist is a must for me and ideally I’d like to keep it under $500.
A: Wow — lots of creative dress codes floating around these days, eh?
I would interpret this to mean “formal, but with flair” — i.e., don’t be afraid of color or dramatic shapes. It sounds like they want a stylish crowd rather than a see of prim black dresses. A few dresses I’m loving:
+This playful maxi in the chartreuse green. Sure to turn heads — super chic paired with black accessories. (And you can get 15% off by signing up for emails, which brings the price point down.)
A: PoppyBows on Etsy! I usually get mini the 4″ or 5″ styles, but note that I prefer an oversized look in general. When I’m in a bind and need something immediately for an outfit (which has happened…#BOWCRISIS), I also like Wee Ones bows, which you can find via Amazon Prime. They deliver the next day.
Q: Is it weird to have stationery with your child’s initials to send thank you notes on their behalf? Is that a faux pas? Also, recommendations for favorite stationery — bargain buys, too, please!
A: Not at all. I send all of mini’s (and micro’s) thank you notes on stationery with their names on it! I’m actually doing a roundup of some of my favorite sources for stationery next week, but my favorite childrens’ stationery comes from Preppy Prodigy (sweet designs, inexpensive, free shipping). I also love their personalized stickers, which I used to demarcate mini’s playground toys — I kept finding that other parents would accidentally pick mini’s stuff up! (Incidentally, also a cute add-on gift for a kiddo about to head off to nursery school. Kids love their names on everything!) More to come soon on the stationery front!
Like everyone else, I was voyeuristically awaiting the birth announcement of Meghan and Harry’s royal baby last week — and how sweet!
Meanwhile, I feel as though everyone is giving birth right now and I’m sitting here, swelling larger and larger. Despite the fact that I was convinced my son would arrive early, I’ve now decided I must resign myself to the fact that I’ll be waiting until the end of the month for baby boy to arrive on the date of his scheduled c-section.
At any rate, Archie’s arrival left me inspired to source gifts, clothing, and other baby gear finds fit for a royal baby:
