+A lot of my mom friends raved about this! On sale!
#Turbothot: The Languages of Love.
Every night, around 7 p.m., I scoop mini up and we wave good night to Tilly and Mr. Magpie. “Nah nah!” she says (“night night”), waving her hand, and then “mwah!” as she blows a kiss. We draw the blinds, read two books, say our bedtime prayer and intentions, and then turn out the light. She rests her head on my shoulder, her impossibly fine hair tucked against my chin. We rock in silence for a few minutes. I rub her back. I kiss her. I wrap my arms around her. I think to myself that these nighttime snuggles are numbered, and I cherish them. She occasionally points at objects in the room or murmurs to herself or looks at the door and inquires, “Dada?”, but most of the time, she is docile and sleepy. For many months now, she has turned to me at some point during this evening snuggle with her little mouth wide open, bird-like, and sort of slobbered over my face before depositing her head back on my shoulder. I have usually responded by laughing or stroking her hair or saying nothing at all.
About a week ago, I said, “Oh, I could just eat you up,” one afternoon and covered her with kisses. “Can’t I have one kiss back?” I asked. She opened her mouth like a little bird and slobbered over my face.
For many months, in other words, my daughter has kissed me goodnight and I had no idea what she was doing.
Where did she learn to kiss Iike that? How did she know to kiss me goodnight?
Setting aside the tears I wiped off my cheeks thinking about this tender nightly act of affection, I wondered — how many other acts of love do I misinterpret or miss entirely? Not just from mini and my own loved ones, but from the world around me? I am often so dialed in on getting from Point A to Point B and wearing that oh-so-New-York mask of impassivity while doing so that I think I’ve tuned out everything but the most outlandish. So I kept my eyes peeled for acts of love this week. So far, I have noticed an old man and woman holding hands in Central Park on what must be their regular evening stroll. I have seen more than I cared to see of young couples sprawled out in Central Park in all forms of romantic embrace. I have observed babies nestled against their mothers, sisters looking out for little siblings, a camp director laughing genuinely, kindly, with fondness, at what her three-year-old charge was telling her. I have noticed an old lady fawning over her three yippy, fluffy little dogs with moving tenderness. I have seen, in other words, that there are acts of love everywhere if I look for it.
#Shopaholic: The Lemon Dress.
+I absolutely LOVE this little lemon dress. It reminds me of a D+G print that was all over the place a few seasons back.
+This lace midi (on sale at the Outnet!) would be a lovely dress for a wedding. Also available in top form!
+Veronica Beard is having a major sale, and I am in love with this and these.
By: Jen Shoop
The other evening, Mr. Magpie and I sat down to a late supper at home. He had made Chicken with Vinegar from one of our favorite new cookbooks, and we served it with buttered green beans and mounds of white rice. (Is there anything better than fluffy white rice? Incidentally, we use our rice cooker close to weekly, but I’ve still been unable to convince Mr. Magpie to upgrade to this, which I’ve wanted for years because I am geekily obsessed with the Japanese brand Zojirushi, or this, which people lose their minds over. Mr. Magpie rightly asserts: “If ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” So we’ll keep on keepin’ on with our 1980s era rice cooker, a monstrosity of white plastic that consistently burns the rice on the bottom, which, incidentally, I rather like.) Though we usually time dinner to be ready shortly after mini has been put down and Tilly has been walked, this night, we didn’t sit down to eat until 9:45 p.m., and by the time we’d finished our plates, drained our wine glasses, savored a languorous conversation about school for mini, and enjoyed a few spoonfuls of Ample Hills ice cream (“right out of the bucket,” as Mr. Magpie says), the clock was pushing eleven and I was drained.
As I walked into the kitchen, I looked around with dread at the piles of pots and pans and utensils and heaved a sigh.
“You know what? I’m not going to clean the kitchen tonight,” I asserted. “I’m going to break my own rule. I’m too tired. I’ll just pile these in the sink and –”
The sink was full with dirtied bowls, a plate that had once housed raw chicken, and miscellaneous cups and cutlery.
“Well, I’ll just toss these in the dishwasher and –”
The dishwasher was packed, clean, and waiting to be emptied.
“Well, I’ll just empty the dishwasher and load these couple of things –”
As I unloaded the dishwasher, I found myself with no space to temporarily set the larger items.
“Well, I’ll just put some of the food stuff away that’s cluttering the counter –”
Thirty minutes later, the dishwasher was empty, the pots and pans were scrubbed, the counter was gleaming.
My New York City apartment had been judging me hard. She would not permit me to break my own rules. Her diminutive proportions mean that there’s no excess of space to just “let things lay” temporarily.
She’s a tiny tyrant.
She also deters me from baking : “But you’ll have to pull your stand mixer out of the cabinet and that’s a pain,” she asserts, a glimmer in her eye. She hates when we travel: “You’ll need to go all the way down to the basement storage unit to get your suitcases. What a pain.” She’s curmudgeonly about seasons, too: “Ugh, do you really want to pull all of those overstuffed vac packs out of the top of your closet, dangerously threatening to crush you? And where do you think you’ll store all of those bulky coats?” And don’t even get her started about gatherings with more than two guests: “And just where do you think they’ll sit, missy?!” She doesn’t seem to want us to grow our family: “Can you imagine squeezing another kid into this place?” And she’s still bitter about our dog: “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bring a 60-lb dog in here…do you know what it’s like to bring a muddy dog into a tiny apartment on a rainy day?!”
She’s kind of a sourpuss, come to think of it.
But then, she’s got a soft side, too. Her stately crown molding and arches charm me even when I’m angsty. Her quirky details — like a pass-through window from the kitchen to the dining room, and the ornate chandelier in the foyer, and the now-defunct house phone once used to call the porters and doormen from the apartment — hearken back to times past and fit the out-of-vogue formality to which Mr. Magpie and I still cling. Her broad windows look out over a quiet courtyard sequestered from the thrum of the city, and she feels, to me, quietly and benevolently vigilant, like a kind but strict aunt sitting in a rocker on a front porch, waiting for me to come home. She makes me feel safe. She’s an escape from the city. And once you’re in her good graces, you’re in them for good.
I think I’m going to call her Louise.
Does your apartment/house have a personality as big as Louise does?
I’ve decided I want to refresh my living area by updating the throw pillow situation, and I’m leaning towards something a bit more bright and modern/whimsical since we tend toward the traditional elsewhere. I have long been in love with Lee Jofa’s bunny print, and who doesn’t love Brunschwig & Fils’ Les Touches print? I might layer one or the other in with some of these textured solid pillows from PB. I also LOVE these and they’re on sale, but my favorite color is the stone white, which seems highly dangerous.
+I absolutely love this night stand. The texture, the shape, the proportions, the hardware. Perfect.
+I am thinking about buying one of these for our undersink area. It’s currently a bit like Tetris and I’m actually proud of how organized and tidy it is, but this would give us a lot more real estate to work with.
+I just discovered these pro-keepers and now I want all of them for everything — a couple of the minis for stuff like spice mixes — and then one of each of these specialized ones for different kinds of sugars (brown sugar, powdered sugar, granulated!) Read the reviews!!!
+Unrelated to home decor, but what a SALE Rebecca Taylor is having! I want this, this, and this.
One of the most common questions I receive from friends and family members who have never lived in New York City is: “Is it impossible to live in New York with a baby?” I think I surprise most of them when I respond that I actually find it easier than living in Chicago with a baby — admittedly, my only point of reference. Now, moving to New York City with a baby is another story entirely, and I wouldn’t wish that hell on my worst enemy. But living here? It’s been surprisingly convenient. Here’s why:
+Everything we need is walkable.Everything! Her pediatrician, music classes, movement classes, playgrounds, the grocery, the drug store, the library, the zoo, museums, and even her pediatric dentist (I’m taking her to first appointment this week). So we just load up the stroller and head out for the morning or afternoon. No parking, no transferring from car seat to stroller, no collapsing and hoisting a huge stroller into a trunk. And the best part is that I’m never more than fifteen or twenty minutes from home (usually less), so if there’s a disaster (blowout, meltdown, change in weather), it’s easy to zip home. This in turn means I don’t need to pack a ton of stuff in my diaper bag. It’s honestly a breeze. I love being car-less at the moment.
+Everything delivers. Initially, I was daunted by the idea of doing things like picking up the dry cleaning and grocery shopping in Manhattan. Even though our dry cleaner is only a six or seven minute walk, pushing a stroller while hoisting a bag of dresses and shirts over my shoulder sounded like a highly unpleasant trek. And even though our closest grocery (Whole Foods) is about five minutes from us, lugging home groceries — even with the support of a stroller — was not high on my favorite things to do list. (Just think about the logistics of dragging a shopping cart behind you while pushing a stroller with one hand — all while in the busiest Whole Foods in the entire world, largely populated by two types of people: idle tourists stopping to stare at nothing or angrier-than-hell local New Yorkers.) Then I discovered that the dry cleaner and the grocery, like every other business in the city, deliver.
We now place an Instacart order for groceries every Sunday, and occasionally elsewhere throughout the week as needed depending on what we’re cooking. (N.B.: the “unlimited” fee is absolutely worth the investment. With it, you get free delivery on orders over $35 vs. paying $6-$12 per delivery, and since I order at least once a week, the fee paid off within a couple of months). Separately, I tried a couple of other grocery delivery services and prefer Instacart for selection, website experience, and communication with the shoppers. They do a really nice job, and if there are errors, have been very generous in refunding or making the situation right. I still go to the grocery at least two times a week to pick out protein (steak, chicken, etc — I still prefer to pick that out myself or at least get a sense for what looks good) or scoop up some fresh produce, but the Instacart orders have made my life so much easier when it comes to staples like mini’s milk, peanut butter, bread, eggs, butter, LaCroix, snacks, etc.
We order wine from Astor Wine every two weeks or so on Tuesdays (they run a promotion every Tuesday where you can get 15% off select kinds of wine — sparkling, wines from Italy, etc), and they deliver for free on orders over $100. We used to buy wine from a local spot (that also offered free local delivery!), but Astor Wine has a better curator — we have literally never had a bad bottle from them. I just sort by their “staff picks” and know I’m in safe hands. Also, their website is super easy to navigate and they have experts that are available to help you pick finer wines via email, a service I used recently when trying to select a nice bottle of wine for Mr. Magpie.
We place monthly orders for household products like toilet paper, toothpaste, cleaning supplies, dishwasher detergent, q-tips, soap, etc. from Target using Google Express. I’ve found that Target has far better deals on that kind of stuff than Instacart’s options. For example, you might pay $5 or $6 for a bottle of Mrs. Meyers countertop spray via Instacart vs. $3 or $4 at Target via Google Express. And they offer free delivery on orders over $35 and are often, I find, running 20% off coupon codes.
Chewy, a subscription pet food service, delivers our dog food. Extremely convenient because a month’s worth of food for our airedale is HEAVY, and the prices are reasonable.
We use Amazon Prime for recurring monthly purchases like diapers, wipes, laundry detergent, and my beloved household gloves (I get one new pair delivered each month) — I’ve found that their subscribe + save prices on those kinds of items are better deals than other suppliers.
+The city is basically our backyard. Living in such small quarters encourages me to get outside with mini every single day. This in turn breaks up the day for me and makes me feel good in the sense that I am taking advantage of this incredible city — which I should be! It is so expensive to live here, I want to make sure I’m drinking in all of its attractions.
+Mini is…well, mini right now. I am thinking that life in a small Manhattan apartment will become more challenging as mini ages and might want more privacy or play space, but, right now, the “petite” dimensions of our living arrangements are honestly convenient. It’s easy for me to keep an eye on her since I’m always only a few steps away — there’s just no where to hide or get into that much trouble without me seeing her immediately, and there are no stairs to worry about.
+The Subway is a few blocks away. I will invariably walk if I possibly can (my cut-off is the 25 minute walk to the Children’s Museum), but the Subway makes getting around the city fairly easy. I definitely needed to buy the Babyzen Yoyo travel stroller to accommodate Subway travel on my own because it’s pretty rare to find a Subway station that does not involve steps at some point. (Grrr.) And even the stations with elevators can be super frustrating to navigate. At our closest station, for example, to take an uptown train, I would need to get on (not kidding) three elevators, and those elevators move like dinosaurs and often have clusters of people waiting to access them. So I usually just bite the bullet and use the steps. Setting aside the accessibility element, the Subway is the easiest, fastest way to travel in the city. The trains run very regularly–except for on the weekends, which is a major bummer.
+New Yorkers are nicer than their reputations suggest. I am often surprised at how helpful New Yorkers are in opening doors, holding elevators, and helping me carry mini’s stroller up and down stairs. Just don’t idle slowly down a crowded street or stop still in the flow of traffic — the fastest ways to enrage a New Yorker.
Caveats…
I’m aware that my positive experience may be idiosyncratic. Here are some caveats…
+I am extremely fortunate to live in a building with an elevator and doormen, meaning I don’t need to lug a stroller or deliveries up and down stairs. Further, the doormen will keep packages for me until I’m home, which makes delivery of everything super simple and non-logistically-complicated. I have friends who live in beautiful walk-ups in the West Village and Brooklyn who — though they have adapted, usually by buying the Yoyo stroller — complain about how challenging it is to be on their own with a baby and a stroller in tow. It also makes deliveries of diapers, food, etc., much less appetizing because you need to coordinate your presence in the apartment with the delivery service.
+As mentioned above, I had to buy a decent travel stroller to navigate the Subway. (And, occasionally, to attend museums! For example, the Children’s Museum will not permit you to leave a stroller unless it folds fairly compactly!) I splurged on what I believe to be the best umbrella stroller on the market and it has really made a difference. I love that it folds into a square you can wear via a strap over your shoulder — it enables me to be handsfree while navigating the subway. Even with the Yoyo, though, I have to say that traveling on the Subway with mini by myself is not my favorite thing to do. I will do it to visit friends and so forth but it’s pretty exhausting (and dirty).
+Baby-proofing is really hard in a New York apartment. We don’t have enough square feet for a dedicated play space for mini, but we don’t want to live in an apartment that looks like Gymboree, so baby-proofing has been hard. We essentially moved all fragile things up to higher shelves, but, for example, she can easily access our receiver via our media console and she loves to turn it on and off, on and off, on and off. She also loves to mess with my husband’s fancy speakers (his biggest pet peeve) and print blank pages with our printer, which lives on the floor. For all of these things, we have no other options available to us unless we want to get rid of those electronics. And in some cases we just have no where else to put stuff out of her reach — for example, we have a gorgeous console in our foyer and an elegant sideboard in our dining room, and we need to use the exposed bottom shelves of both to store items. We simply have no other storage solutions available to us! So this means we need to be on constant patrol when she’s near them and likely to mess around with their contents.
+I live on the Upper West Side, where the streets are (generally) wide and accommodating when it comes to pushing a stroller. Downtown, by contrast, the streets tend to be narrower and bumpier and I’m more likely to anger or be angered by the pedestrians around me.
+I live across from Central Park. This, I think, has entirely shaped my positive view of the city. I don’t know if I would be quite as enthusiastic about living here with my toddler if it weren’t for Central Park, which we essentially live in. We visit it at least three or four times a day to walk Tilly, go to a playground, visit the zoo, enjoy the carousel, have a picnic, etc. Having that much green space and openness makes me so happy and gives me so many incredible (free or low cost!) activities to do with mini at my side.
+The two major downsides that I can think of right now are lack of space (which, as noted above, is also a convenience from time to time) and the car/taxi situation. I do wish mini had a dedicated playroom where we could set up a small table for arts and crafts, give her a wide berth to play and run, and even purchase her some bigger toys (like a teepee or a playhouse or a small trike) that are straight-up impossible for us to store here. I tell myself these are not important in the grand scheme of things, though — she still has plenty of room to run and explore outside and in classes, and she doesn’t need a trillion toys, either. (That’s what visiting friends and family with kids out of state is for.) One drawback I’d never thought about prior to moving to New York is traveling via car with her. We have an inexpensive travel carseat (very safe and super light) that we keep in storage down in the basement of our building, so it’s not exactly available at the drop of a hat. (And we definitely don’t want to keep that bulky thing in our apartment!) As a result, we never — and I mean never, not even once! — take a cab anywhere. We Subway or walk exclusively. When we travel out of the city, we take the Subway to the train or rent a car and install our carseat in the back. It’s not been a huge issue thus far, but it certainly limits my options when I am trying to zip around town.
Post-Scripts.
+For what it’s worth, my favorite classes I’ve found on the UWS for mini are Musibambino and Juliette and Ella’s Playdate. She’s also in a private music class with a couple of other kiddos that was arranged by a mom I met through our nanny and taking swim lessons at the local Y, but I would still say Musibambino and Juliette and Ella are the absolute best, and we tried a LOT! I don’t go regularly to either, though — I save them as a once-every-few-weeks treat using their drop-in option. (They get so, so redundant. Probably good for mini but would drive me nuts!) For activities, I like the Tisch Children’s Zoo in Central Park (mini loves to pet and feed the animals) and — more rarely — the Museum of Natural History and the Children’s Museum of Manhattan (I am pretty convinced that’s where she came down with her case of hand-foot-mouth, though…) We are trying the Children’s Museum of the Arts next week!
+Found a new children’s wear label with the most darling Liberty print sets — check out Little O!
+This smocked romper is TOO CUTE for fall with the little apples! Also comes in dress form, and would be darling for a first day of a “twos program”! (Mr. Magpie and I are currently trying to decide whether or not to send mini to a twos program next fall. I realize how ridiculous that sounds, but the New York pre-K scene is intense; we would need to apply soon for admission a year out. And applying is a multi-step process! I’ll have to write a longer post about this topic, because it’s more nuanced than I thought — even deciding if we want to send her to a twos program or wait until she’s three has been meatier than anticipated.)
+Speaking of school for minis — this is a fun backpack for a little one.
+Several moms have said they like Hatley brand pajamas. I’m not super wild about the prints except for the thumping bunnies pair! So adorable. I just snagged a pair of jams from Petidoux, though, and am anxiously awaiting their arrival.
+Mini is in a stage where she is ripping bows and hair elastics out of her hair any time she’s bored. I am thinking of buying a pair of these old school Goody barettes — I wore these exact ones as a baby!! Throwback!
+I think we’ve moved beyond the stage of using an infant toothbrush, and this toddler one is in my cart.
A couple weeks before my first day of high school, I was sitting in the backseat of my parents’ rented SUV on a summer vacation in Colorado reading Robert Penn Warren’s All the Kings Men. It was mandated, a part of my required reading list for freshman English at my new high school, and I stared angrily at the margin, my pen poised in the air, trying — desperately — to jot down something observant.
A question from my reading list guide, What are the book’s major themes? jeered at me. As I scanned the mountainous landscape out the window, this line of inquiry felt hopeless, and I felt dense: I had no idea what the book was about. I groped around for some common themes from other books I’d studied in the past: love? loyalty? independence? Those felt sturdy. But were they in Warren’s book? I had no idea. I felt as if I was forcing my brain to perform gymnastics and that my brain was sassily wagging its finger in my face: “Homey don’t think so.”
A couple months later, a friend of mine observed that the Walker Percy book she was reading was “B grade.” She added: “It’s not nearly as good as his other work.” Oh. I realized that until that moment, I hadn’t held books up to a rubric for quality. I certainly preferred some books to others, finding myself either flying through the pages or stalling, but my blind assumption was that in order to be a published author, you had to be pretty damn good in the first place. I scrambled to form discerning opinions on the subsequent books I read, grasping at straws, finding it impossible to “grade” books in any meaningful way. I worked strenuously to give off the impression of percipience, but inside, I knew the truth: I was a simpleton, spooling vapid and meaningless observations about books I didn’t understand.
Fast-forward to 2018, a full twenty years later. Mr. Magpie and I are sitting on our couch in our New York apartment binge-watching Jerry Seinfeld’s Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee show, a series in which Seinfeld interviews comedic talents while driving flashy cars. Mr. Magpie and I are enamored with this show in part because it affords a more personal view of many of our favorite comedians and actors as they ad lib on topics as disparate as how much tip celebrities should leave (Sarah Jessica Parker) and the experience of racism in apartheid South Africa (Trevor Noah), but principally because we love Jerry Seinfeld, and especially the Jerry Seinfeld on this show. He has opinions — and sometimes surprising ones that do not sit well with his companions, like his shrugging acceptance of the fact that fans have a right to photograph or interrupt him when he’s in public, or that parents are too “soft” nowadays — but he rarely comes off as pontifical or domineering. He seems like a world-wearied, observant, fair-minded guy, one who will call a spade a spade and assert his perspective, but without the kind of browbeating or virtue signaling so prevalent in much public discourse today. Mainly, we admire the fact that when he stakes a claim, he does so calmly, evenly, and with the posture of someone who has given that topic considerable thought.
In one interview, Tracy Morgan asserts something and Jerry Seinfeld flat out disagrees with him, but non-contentiously.
“OK. I was afraid you might say that,” says Morgan, and then he listens, eagerly, to Seinfeld’s point of view, gradually relinquishing his grip on his own.
The show — and especially the Morgan interview — left me musing over my own opinionatedness. You see, the problems of my early high school years have long since faded; nowadays, I have opinions in spades. (This blog is a testament.) Sometimes I think I am overly quick to form an opinion. Am I too critical? Does everything need to be analyzed? Am I too reliant on the decades of life experience behind me to greet a topic with fresh eyes and an open heart? Life has a way of conditioning you, of teaching you lessons that you’d be idiotic to ignore, of giving you a tray of meaningful experiences that you can parade around as proof that you are right about something, when provoked. But then — I am halfway through Factfulness and it has taught me how provincial my own thinking can be. And one of the many treasures (and, occasionally, trials) of writing this blog is uncovering alternative perspectives via comments and emails and even while playing devil’s advocate myself prior to hitting “publish.” (When I am writing something possibly controversial, like this post, which left me biting my nails, I often sit down and imagine reading it as an outsider with a completely different perspective. I then refine the writing and polish the thinking to avoid coming off as obtuse or injurious.) These exchanges force me to interrogate my own opinions in a process that can occasionally leave me feeling simple-minded (how did I write that?!) but always afford me a more nuanced view of a topic. (I loved, as a recent example, the varied and insightful reactions to my post on the dotted lines between work and private life.) Through these interactions, I feel as though I am on the path towards Seinfeld-level comfort with my own opinions in large part because I know they have not been arrived at hastily. I have no qualms about changing my opinions over time; in fact, I think it’s critical that I continue to question myself. But confidence, calm, a kind of studied thoughtfulness when presenting an opinion? That’s what I’m after now.
Where do you fall on this spectrum? Too bashful to assert an opinion? Too quick to stake a claim? Or do you just keep to yourself?
+New mamas: Baby Bjorn just released a mini version of its carrier. I don’t know why but this intrigues me — it’s lighter, smaller, and specifically meant for itty bitties. I think I would have liked this more than the Lille Baby I wore, which felt clunky and enormous.
+I’m buying a bunch of these to tackle the final frontier of our apartment’s organization: the dreaded front closet, which is super deep and super tall and currently houses way, way, way too much stuff.
+Madewell has some major finds right now: this looks like a Caroline Constas or MDS Stripes or something and this airy tiered midi nails that boho muumuu vibe I’ve been crushing on.
+I am daydreaming about laundering my clothes with the Laundress’s new collab with Le Labo. I stayed in a hotel in San Francisco that had the most exquisite Le Labo toiletries and the scents are incredible.
In my quest for a desk lamp, I got sidetracked (obviously) and came across this insane vintage rattan cabinet. Please someone buy it — what a great piece for a lovely and authentic addition to your home for a reasonable price. I found the snap of the similar style above on Pinterest and thought — how chic! (I’m pretty sure the one in the picture above is this style from UO, which is also delightful.) This whole vibe is, of course, reminiscent of ma girl India Hicks, whom I have long been obsessed with…so maybe I should go for this rattan-topped lamp?! (My favorite dresses are possibly making me lean more boho than I normally go.)
Pick No. 2: The Belt Bag.
OK, speaking of woven straw goodness, I think I have *finally* found a winner for my belt bag search. I was steeply inclined towards purchasing this style in the white for my hands-free-mom-on-the-go days, but these from new-to-me line Parme Marin have won my heart. Possibly impractical after October, but…I LOVE! I dig the brand’s emphasis on sustainability; they explain: “Mindful and conscious practices are at the heart of our company, with an approach based on sourcing natural materials, minimizing waste and creating reusable packaging.”
I had a friend recently email and ask how I keep my unmentionables organized. (She knows I’m an org freak.) I use a divided organizer nearly identical to the one shown below that I scored at Target a few years back, and I love it. It makes it easy to fold your underwear/bras without having them end up in a big jumble. (I roll mine. My sister once noticed this and looked at me like I came from Mars — “that’s like what serial killers do.” HAHA!) If your likelihood of folding underwear is super-low and you just want something to keep them separate from your socks and jammies, I would consider these — one for undies, one for bras, one for socks? I also came across two intriguing finds: a bra organizer (!) and scented drawer liners. Right now, I often spritz this “Delicates Spray” from the Laundress into my clothing drawers and will tuck it into my suitcase when traveling to keep all my clothes smelling fresh from the laundry. (It smells more like soap/laundry than anything else, which I love.) But scented drawer liners…!
Pick No. 5: The Must Read Thriller.
My mom texted me urgently to let me know she could not put down Here and Gone by Halen Beck. I love a good thriller, so I am eager to pick it up! Currently reading this thriller, though — I’ll need to get to Beck’s book after I get through the next few books on my list. (Are you reading along?)
Pick No. 6: The Fall Flat.
Though I’m still ga-ga over all of the bow-topped mules out this season (these!!!), I’m beginning to look toward fall and I am kind of in love with these loafers by new label Rothys. The shoes are made out of recycled bottles and are intended to be the perfect everyday shoe — fun/flashy enough to feel stylish, but high on comfort. AKA a perfect shoe for a mom on the go. A friend of mine (also a new-ish mom!) bought a pair and raved about them. I like them in the two colorways shown below in particular.
Pick No. 7: Chanel Bronzing Base.
OK, first it was their mascara base. Now I’m intrigued by Chanel’s bronzing base, a “light cream-gel bronzer that leaves your skin with a beautiful sun-bathed look. Wear it on its own, or for a hint of outdoors radiance, over or under your favorite foundation.” Ummmmm yes.
One of my favorite summer evening outfits? A white blouse with white skinnies, which I then liven up with statement earrings (currently lusting after these and these) or a pair of flashy shoes (recently bought these in pink) or a swipe of bright lipstick. I love this eyelet style (shown below, on sale for $55), this affordable ASOS (dramatic white bows FTW!), and this laser cut style (off white, and under $100).
Pick No. 10: The Everlane Sweatshirt.
They’re baaaack! I have had my eye on this sweatshirt in the bone color for like a full season but it keeps selling out before I can order one. Currently on the waistlist. Also intrigued by the celadon color…
P.S. This week’s random Amazon discoveries: we have a couple of miscellaneous inexpensive kitchen knives floating around one of our utensil drawers and it’s a dangerous situation — just snagged a set of these to solve the problem; mini has been getting into a couple of our cabinets, so I ordered these inexpensive and easy to install cabinet locks (read the reviews!!!); mini’s favorite pasttime is removing all of my credit cards from my wallet — I think this needs to be in her future (minus the coins).
On my birthday, Mr. Magpie presented me with a series of thoughtful gifts, and the last one was a large square box. I tore into the wrapping paper and it was —– a $20 Target desk lamp.
Hm.
“Oh,” I said, scrambling to find something praiseworthy about it. I looked up at him, and he burst into laughter.
“It’s a placeholder. I want you to pick one out from ABC Home downtown, a special New York lamp,” he explained. He paused. “I thought it was time for my writer to have a little more light.”
#Dead.
It was an incredibly generous and thoughtful gift, but what slew me the most was imagining him observing me in my little dim nook, pecking away at the keyboard in the shadowy light that filters through from the back window of our living area, which is, incidentally, where I am perched now, my visibility at about 50% if I am honest. And his engineer-like mind thought: “She needs some light.” (It is, after all, one of my resolutions for my thirty-fourth year of life to write a draft of a book I have been kicking around in my mind for the last decade, so I have been spending a lot of time at this little desk.) And then he carried that idea with him around for — a week? a few months? — before searching for a specialty home decor shop in the heart of this new city of ours from which I could pick something special. I would later find out he’d already been to the ABC Home store in search of something, but had decided it would be better to bring me along.
I’m heavy on the hunt, but I turned first for inspiration to the insanely talented interior decorator Amy Berry, whose work is shown in the photo at top and below. I dream of having her decorate my forever home. Until then, we’ll focus on an Amy Berry-inspired desk lamp. She has such a good eye for proportions and textures and shapes. (In the photo at top, she’s using a Robert Abbey Double Gourd lamp — I have these in gray on our nightstands. Such a chic pick.)
+As it turns out ABC Home, did not have a ton of ideal lighting options — a lot of them have exposed bulbs that would be cloying, I fear, if I am sitting and writing and staring them in the face. This one looks really cool when illuminated, though.
+This “artichoke” lamp is MAJOR — a work of art! — and would add such a statement to my desk without shocking the world with color. It’s probably too big for my desktop, but I’m smitten.
+I like the airiness of this glass lamp — it won’t clutter the space.
+This alabaster lamp is probably the ideal proportion for my desk — tall and narrow, with a small footprint, so it will lend my desk space a ton of light and add some height to the overall setup without taking up too much real estate.
+I love Jonathan Adler, and this head lamp is bananas. I wish the shade were a different color, though — that taupe isn’t what I’m going for. But maybe…and this style is super fun, and I kind of love it in that bold lavender; it would match the purple ikat pillow in my writing chair.
+I’ve always loved the architectural quality of Kelly Wearstler’s lamps — they’re like pieces of art! This or this would be stunning.
Finally, a couple of other household items I’m drooling over right now:
+These nesting baskets as an upgrade for mini’s toy and laundry storage in her petite bedroom — I love that these stack, keeping a smattering of baskets to a minimum.
About half of my closet is blue and white stripes. That does not mean I’m not still in the market for some new additions in the same vein — namely the breezy apron Sezane dress shown above. (Ooh la la!) I have been agonizing over whether these are stupidly impractical given the infrequency with which I wear heels nowadays (but they’re so cute!!!) and I’m dying over this maxi, which looks kind of like MDS Stripes and Dodo Bar Or had a baby. Meanwhile, this gives me major Brock Collection vibes and I think I need it. Below, a couple of my favorite finds du jour…
I would also love to treat myself to this crisp nightshirt and a new pair of jeans — these by Rag & Bone. I’ve heard the best things about their denim!
A girlfriend of mine recently introduced me to the phrase “let’s have a kiki.” Even before she fully elaborated on its origin and meaning, I had read between the lines: she wanted to vent/gossip/chit-chat in only the way good girlfriends can, preferably around a bottle of wine and assortment of snacks, usually punctuated by laughter of increasing volume and frequency, and always without inhibition or judgment. How many times have you called up a girlfriend or sister and started in with: “Oh.my.God.” and then proceeded to unravel and overanalyze a crazy story, often ending up in tears of laughter rather than anger? Or spun into a gathering of close friends in a fit of frustration or excitement or giddiness that only understanding, we-got-your-back, ride-or-die girlfriends can match and somehow amplify until suddenly you realize you are in the midst of a shrieking mass of femininity and it is kind of the best thing ever?
That’s having a kiki.
And my God, what sweet, joyous catharsis! The next time you are getting together with your girlfriends or dialing a sister in a fit of rage, be sure to wink inwardly at the glee of having a kiki.
#Shopaholic: The Fall Find.
+Fall is a stone’s throw away. Do your autumnal wardrobe a favor by snagging this or this, both of which are ridiculously discounted and insanely chic!
+Lots of Self-Portrait on sale all over the place — love this and ordered this!
+This striped dress would be an instant wardrobe staple. (And it’s under $40!)
+Finally tackling our unwieldy spice collection — ordering a couple sets of these and these to contain everything. Side note: these are a brilliant idea for maximizing a small storage space! More of my favorite small apartment gear here.
I recently had a long catch-up with a girlfriend struggling through some personal turmoil, and she mentioned something that has lingered with me in the days since our conversation. She said that she’s not particularly happy with her current job, but that she’s also grateful for it, as its flexibility with working from home and somewhat lax work hours have given her the space to attend to herself during this bumpy personal time. She said something like — “I know I’m supposed to feel bad about not being personally defined by my job, but right now, that’s just what it is: a job.” She added that this New Yorker article by Toni Morrison had helped her come to this perspective, and to feel OK about it. In the article, Morrison explains that she had come to dislike a job she’d had owing to its unexpectedly and increasingly difficult demands, and when she returned home and complained to her father, he replied plainly: “Listen. You don’t live there. You live here. With your people. Go to work. Get your money. And come on home.” Morrison explains that she interpreted his straight-forward reply as follows: “1. Whatever the work is, do it well—not for the boss but for yourself. 2. You make the job; it doesn’t make you. 3. Your real life is with us, your family. 4. You are not the work you do; you are the person you are.”
I’ve been turning this over in my mind since our conversation. I was intrigued by and empathetic to my friend’s seeming reluctance to accept Morrison’s Baby Boomer-esque approach to work, wherein (dramatically oversimplifying here) work was perceived as a financial imperative rather than a mode of personal expression. Work is work, home is home, and never the twain shall meet. Nowadays (again dramatically oversimplifying), those of us in the millennial set are led to believe that work should be meaningful, self-defining, fulfilling. Workspaces have evolved to look and feel like homes, with couches, ping-pong tables, open kitchens, and even, in some cases, nap “pods” (beds at work!) And do any offices have a dress code anymore? You can roll right out of bed and into your cube — or open workspace, more likely — without raising any eyebrows. The subtext is that we should be our true selves at work, and that the old distinctions between work and play have dissolved. Many of my friends have absorbed this new mindset readily, hungrily, possibly unquestioningly. They take it as a point of pride when they are stuck at work until 11 p.m., or when they need to duck out from dinner to take a work call, or when their bosses are texting them on a Sunday morning. I’m not saying that they aren’t expected to participate in those interactions — it’s not feigned, and I have been required to do the same during various parts of my career — but that it’s done with flourish, with showmanship, a sort of “look at me; I’m important!” This, to me, is the unhealthy aftermath of a dramatic change in the way our generation views “work.”
But there is something else. There is a falsehood that our generation has absorbed that suggests that all work must be meaningful, important, and magically aligned with our truest passions from the minute we graduate from college and somehow polish ourselves up to appear borderline respectable in an office setting. I’ll never forget when a college-aged intern of mine came into my office one afternoon, heaved a sigh, and said that she just didn’t like the work she was doing right then. “Honestly, it’s boring,” she intoned. “Can I do something else? I want to do something that matters.” I was simultaneously pleased with myself for currying her confidence as I had never had a boss that had seemed to care about “my personal journey” and baffled by her perspective. “But it does matter,” I replied. And I explained how her seemingly menial work checking online courseware for various standards and requesting permission to republish certain works from authors were ultimately enabling us to provide free educational opportunities for those in need. She didn’t buy it, I don’t think, but it was a bluff anyway, if I’m honest. While it is true her work was contributing to a greater mission, my most authentic self wanted to say: “Yes, it’s menial. That’s because you’re an intern and I’m the director. Someone needs to do those things so that the higher ups can tackle the strategic work. But if you do your job well, you will move up quickly. Do you know how many hours of brainless data entry I did for $8/hour for four consecutive summers of my life? A lot. Like, a lot a lot. Everyone pays their dues. Even though data entry was the intellectual equivalent of writing “I will not be late again” three hundred thousands times in a row on a chalkboard, I learned how to set myself apart. I was pleasant, punctual, polite. I learned keyboard shortcuts and hack-y ways to navigate the clunky software more efficiently. I challenged myself to complete my daily workload as fast as possible. I was noticed. It’s the way of the world.”
Setting aside my crotchety “when I was your age…” musings, upon reflection, I realize that I have toggled between both perspectives (we’ll call them “baby boomer” and “millennial” for the sake of simplicity) at various times in my career. There have been jobs that I treated as pure work, completely separate from my own interests and ambitions, a paycheck when I needed it. There have been other jobs that have been “more than,” that have shaped my identity, kept me up at night and woke me up in the morning, felt so deeply personal and so aligned with my passions and interests that I’ve had trouble separating “work time” from “personal time.” And it may come as no surprise that those jobs tended to pay less and require more. And you know what? It’s OK, I think, to switch between perspectives. I think there can be courage and strength in muscling through only-a-paycheck kinds of jobs, especially when they are undertaken to make ends meet or afford a better lifestyle or help us up a ladder. And I think there can be serious growth and self-illumination that comes from jobs that challenges us and enable us to work on meaningful problems.
I realize the irony of my writing this piece right now, as I am decidedly out of the working world, spending half my week as a stay-at-home mom — and yet I am contributing to our household income and building a business, while refining a craft I have been practicing since I was a child. I am straddling the lanes of “passionate hobby” (dare I say “art,” in its own way?), “entrepreneurship,” and “homemaker/mother,” and the concerns of my friend feel so distant from my own at the moment. But hearing her thoughts on the topic of work versus real life brought me right back to the intensity of the many situations in which I found myself during my 20s and early 30s. It made me realized that of course we’d all love to have jobs that pay well and empower us to be our best selves, all while solving a meaty world problem. But the truth is that if a job is any one of those things, I’d probably consider it seriously. And I might prioritize certain elements over others given the circumstances of my personal life at a given time. For this reason, I found Morrison’s formula oddly comforting, a panacea I hadn’t quite known I’d wanted; she says: “I have never considered the level of labor to be the measure of myself, and I have never placed the security of a job above the value of home.” It comes as a reassurance to those of us feeling like our work worlds are all-consuming, or that conflicts or stressful tasks or long hours in the workplace are sucking us dry, or that we should feel guilty for some reason for not being as obsessed with our jobs as everyone else in our generation appears to be. You are you first.
What do you think about the dotted lines between work and personal life?
+OK, I am absolutely DROOLING over this tote. It looks like it’s Celine or something — but it’s a fraction of the price. I love its roominess and versatility (note that there’s an extendable shoulder strap!).
+Even on sale, these are pricey — but how GROWN UP AND CHIC!??!?!
+This would be a super cool gift for a wine lover.
By: Jen Shoop
I spent my first two nights away from mini last weekend while at a bachelorette party, and though I had a little trouble getting out the door (tears were involved…on my end, not hers), once I was nestled on the train in my window seat with my split of wine and my fully loaded Kindle (I read this from cover to cover and it was a grand, vapid escape), it was glorious, just as so many of you had said it would be. I had a wonderful time at the bachelorette reconnecting with old friends, sailing, eating crabs and oysters, and enjoying a healthy amount of sparkling wine, but I have to say I treasured the train trips themselves the most. When I’m at home and mini is napping or out of the house with her nanny, I am still in mom mode: I am filling the dishwasher, folding laundry, picking up toys, thinking ahead to dinner, wondering if the nanny remembered to apply sunscreen, uploading a picture to send to her grandparents, scheduling her next playdate, mapping out the rest of the day, texting the nanny, all while trying to focus on writing. On the train, on the other hand, I felt weightless and solitary in the loveliest of ways. I felt like there was nothing I could do even if I wanted to — I had to surrender my sense of responsibility to my very capable Mr. Magpie. As I sank into this odd feeling of independence, I realized I could do whatever I wanted without over-logisticizing or coordinating with Mr. Magpie. On a phone call the day I left, my mom had said: “Just think: it will be time for you to just be you.” I had hesitated over her comment — but aren’t I always me? — but I knew what she meant: it was an opportunity to be entirely selfish, answering to no one but myself. And it was divine. Of course, I was more than anxious to get home (I borderline sprinted the last block and I don’t think I stopped staring at her for the four hours between my return and her bedtime), but I’m so glad I made the effort. It wasn’t nearly as traumatic as I had anticipated, and I returned with a new sense of appreciation and vigor for being the best mom I can be.
Now I’ve just got to figure out how to get away for a weekend with Mr. Magpie, which is seeming increasingly unlikely given that we’ve just lost our nanny. (Sob. Sob. Sob. I will need to dedicate an entire post to the art of finding and retaining a nanny. Incidentally, if any of you readers in NYC have leads, please email me!) And so it looks like I will be a full-time stay at home mom for the near future, so forgive me if the posts are shorter than usual…!
+This dress is a fall must-have. While you’re there, check out the sale section — some further reductions happening! I must have this. Would also be a good idea to stock up on these in multiple colorways!
+I am swooning over this floral set from new-to-me eboutique Peggy Green!
+Anyone else a fan of Native Shoes? Mini has been living in hers since we so frequently end up at one of Central Park’s many playgrounds with water features. Nordstrom has a couple of styles on sale!
+Also on sale: this DockATot. I did not have one for mini but I know people go insane over them and they never go on sale! I would snag this were I expecting.
+We’re in the midst of transitioning mini from her bottle (a little late I think, woops), and simultaneously disassociating her milk consumption from sleeptime (and instead serving it at mealtime). We found that the latter hasn’t been difficult at all, much to our surprise. We just took the bottle out of the sleeptime routine and gave her a bottle earlier, just after lunch/dinner, and she was entirely unphased. #WIN! The issue is when we give her milk in her sippy cups — she will not drink it! I think I am going to buy one of these 10 oz Nuk sippy cups because it looks entirely different from all of her other water cups (bigger, and with Pooh on it!) and only give her milk out of it. Then slowly we can swap in other sippy cups until she’s acclimated. Thoughts and advice?
+Mini is quickly outgrowing her 18-24 month pajamas, so I’m now beginning to stock up on 2T. (And BTW, this $17 pair of pajamas is one of my favorites for her right now — very well made, super soft, and so sweet in the stripes!) I’m considering these (love this brand — I brought mini home from the hospital in a supersoft newborn size pair from Kissy Kissy!), these (classic), these (also love love love this brand — the SOFTEST cotton I’ve ever felt), and these (is she really old enough?! wahh). I also might go ahead and scoop up a pair of these for her next birthday, when she’ll probably already be wearing a size 3…
By: Jen Shoop
I’ve noticed a fetching detail on a number of trendy pieces right now: oversized, prominent buttons running straight down the front of a skirt or dress. I like the look a lot, especially paired with airy linen. (And, OK, I’m still not over those Staud net bags, shown above!)
P.S. This is button-less, but shares the casual, breezy vibe so many of the dresses above project. (And that back!!!) And speaking of easy-wear dresses, this sunbeam of a dress from Joie has been marked down to just over $100!
P.P.P.S. My favorite running shoes, in some amazing new colorways, on sale — I like the lavender and the olive green, which feels kinda Yeezy in a cool way to me.
