Jen Shoop, Author at Magpie by Jen Shoop

By: Jen Shoop

I’ve come to love that sliver of time before sleep. Most nights, my body and mind are winding down, spent from a day of exertion and often relaxed by a glass of wine with dinner. I’ve exhausted the topics I’ve been stockpiling much of the day to share with Mr. Magpie, finished my to dos or ritualistically rewritten them down for tomorrow. The dishes are cleaned; the toys are tidied. I’ve finished a stretch of thirty or fifteen or forty-five minutes of reading, and have arrived at a good pause point. Mini is safely tucked into bed — another successful day of toddlerhood on the books — and I feel a good kind of fatigue settling in, the kind of fatigue I used to enjoy when I worked out regularly, leaving my limbs achey and wobbly, only now it is the aftermath of chasing after, wrangling, and holding a twenty-five pound toddler while maintaining an exclusively pedestrian lifestyle. (It’s not uncommon for us to walk over five miles a day.) My face is scrubbed clean, my mouth minty. The conversations with Mr. Magpie become quieter, more speculative, occasionally drifting off into nothing as one or the other nods off. The faint scent of dried lavender at my bedside wafts over me, mingling with the hum of the air conditioner, the detergent from our linens, the pleasant heft of our down comforter, and the vague thrum of city life just outside our windows, forming the oddest but most soothing sleep elixir I’ve ever known.

I wrote about this a couple of months ago, but I don’t take this healthy fatigue, this ease with sleep, for granted. There have been many months of sleepless stress, bouts of insomnia, nights of patchy slumber giving way to uneasy, bleary dawns. When I was pregnant with mini, I was especially sleep-deprived, often waking early, before the sun, with a jolt of excitement or anxiety or any of the many physical pleasantries of being with child (har har har). I shared some thoughts from just such a morning here. With our business and the move and the sale of our Chicago home, there was a lot to turn over, and many nights were dotted through with “but oh my god what about THIS” awakenings. Nowadays, I feel more at peace than I can ever remember, even though I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know how I’ve come by this tranquility, whether it was earned or bequested, but I am grateful for it. And I write this to the many women currently tossing and turning in their beds, coiled with anxiety or stress, because you, too, will get through this.

Post-Script: Some of My Favorite Bedtime Products.

I’m on an Origins kick for bedtime oil / face lotion, but my all-time favorite night cream is Korres Advanced Brightening Sleeping Facial. It smells like roses and laundry (do not buy if you are sensitive to fragrance) and it leaves skin soft and bright.

I keep a tube of this in my nightstand (and in my medicine cabinet, in my handbag, in every suitcase…it’s a wunderproduct) and apply to lips and cuticles before bed.

If I’m being very good, I remove every last smear of makeup using this. It removes EVERYTHING — even the thickest, most waterproof liner you’ve ever tried.

I keep sprigs of dried lavender in a little carafe at my bedside. It is such a calming scent. I’ve also contemplated buying a little vial of lavender essential oil to dab on my wrists or pulsepoints. I use Mrs. Meyers’ dryer sheets in the lavender scent when washing my sheets, too.

I don’t know how we’ll sleep without the roar of our air conditioner come fall. People rave about these sound machines and I think I might take the plunge. (In a pinch, we’ve used an app on my phone, too.)

My favorite pajamas right now are these by Eberjey. They are blissfully soft, and I like the classic styling. (There’s a printed set on sale here for 50% off!) J. Crew came out with a similar style in soft cotton this season in the cutest stripes.

Mr. Magpie and I are both picky about pillows — they need to be fluffy with a little firmness to them, never turgid or, worse, pancake thin. These are excellent and well-priced.

I don’t own one of these, but I’m very intrigued by these satin pillowcases by Slip, which promise to anti-aging, anti-frizzing, anti-wrinkling effects. At a minimum, they will extend your blowout.

We have Philips Hue bulbs in all of the lamps in our apartment, and we control them all via our smartphones / Siri on our Homepod. I’m in love. Is there anything better than telling Siri, “Turn on the lights” when you walk in or when you’re already nestled in bed? Better: Mr. Magpie often stays up watching the Nats in the living room and I can turn off my nightstand lamp and dim his to something suitably bright enough for him to make his way into bed but not so bright that it keeps me up. Genius. (Just re-read that paragraph and…who am I? Am I living out the Jetsons IRL? But seriously, these are life-changing.)

I keep this carafe at my bedside every night, along with a pretty ring dish (love this one), because I always seem to forget to take out my earrings until I’m under the covers and then I’m too lazy to move anywhere.

The bed shown at the top is — sadly — not my own, but I was dying over that dramatic canopy, the framed botanical prints (similar here), the embroidered bedding (similar here), and those velvet throw pillows (you can get a similar style here). I even like those dramatic leaf lamp bases (similar here!)

P.S. Apropos of nothing: I love this organza blouse, layered over a simple white tank and finished with white jeans. Major moment in the making.

P.P.S. Nars came out with an illuminating powder I must own…and one of you lovely magpies mentioned how much you love Milk Makeup’s blur sticks — here’s a way to try them all for less. (More current beauty obsessions here.)

P.P.P.S. A trend to try on the beach and what I do when Mr. Magpie is out for the night.

By: Jen Shoop

I can’t say I subscribe to any one philosophy or approach when it comes to parenting, in part because I have nervously avoided reading books on the topic, and wouldn’t even know how to classify my thinking on the topic. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the intention behind parenting books, or respect those who read prolifically on the topic. In general, I gravitate towards studying and applying precision of thought to whatever I am doing, and I will be the first to admit that I am a novitiate in many areas, including parenthood. So it’s not that I’m overly confident in my approach, either. It’s that I know myself well enough to predict that books on the topic will only clutter my mind, stress me out, and leave me paralyzed and remorseful — and trust me, I already have enough mom guilt.

Instead, I have leaned on a hybrid of intuition and the model of my parents and those parents I have observed in awe at various points in my life. The crossline between all of those successful parents, in my analysis, seems to be listening, which I believe myself to be good at, with the exception of one recent instance in which mini came down with a case of hand-foot-mouth and I had written it off as teething for a couple of days. By listening, I mean more than just opening my ears — I mean attending, carefully, to whatever mini is saying or doing and reacting to those cues rather than starting from a place of assumptions, which I will admit I find highly tempting to internalize, i.e., “she should be sleeping x hours y times a day by now” or “she should be crawling…what’s wrong?” As a result, I have never been a huge adherent to a schedule (patterns, yes; schedules, no), and not overly concerned with milestones. If mini seemed tired, I put her down. If she was clawing at my shirt, I fed her. If she was crawling while every other baby was walking, I remained (generally) unflustered. That said, mini did not consistently sleep through the night until around a year, and I have many mom friends with babies that did so at three months, so I’m certainly not saying that my approach is better than or more effective than anyone else’s. It’s simply that my approach vibes with me, feels organic and natural, makes me feel (fairly) successful and (reasonably) stress-free — though always always always with a healthy heaping of mom guilt. (How did I not notice the little blister inside her mouth?! As it turns out, hand-foot-mouth is relatively common and relatively mild as viruses go — and there are no treatments except Tylenol, seclusion, water, and a lot of snuggly viewings of Winnie the Pooh — so it was more of a cautionary lesson, a reminder to dial back in, with a relatively diminutive punishment, in that there is nothing I could or would have done differently had I known it was a virus rather than run-of-the-mill teething.)

That’s why I was surprised when I reacted so strongly this short essay on slow parenting from A Cup of Jo. It’s stirring. It reminds me of the quote I’ve seen all over Instagram in cheesy meme form: “Just remember you have only 18 summers with your baby. Cherish each one.”

Only eighteen! That’s a scoch above a dozen, and a dozen is a hair above ten, and ten is NOTHING! After reading Jo’s essay, I plopped down on the floor and read mini the same two books ten times in a row, until I thought I might pull my hair out, but the thoughtful look on her face — as if something was dawning on her — as we turned the pages, her urgent “nyuh nyuh nyuh” when she wanted me to re-read it, the way she absently played with the strap on my dress, standing, wavering at my shoulder, fully engrossed — it was too precious. What was she processing? The colors, the rhythms? The feel of the pages turning in front of her? Will she always remember the sound of my voice reading to her with the overdramatic rhythms and pauses and dynamics a mom comes to perform, pandering to the laughter or stretches of distraction she anticipates too well in her child? Jo’s article made me realize I have practiced elements of slow parenting without knowing it, in that, at least once a day, maybe twice, I turn to Mr. Magpie: “Look at how she’s holding the doll,” or “I love the way she turns out her feet,” or “Where did she learn that?”, and we will together abandon the screens in front of us or put a finger as a placeholder in our books or magazines or step back from the chopping of parsley or carrots at the kitchen counter and admire her for a minute. And then there is the nightly sleep-stalk, where we creep into her room just before turning in ourselves to fawn over her impossibly adorable shapes of repose: on her stomach, with her butt in the air; curled into a c around her favorite doll; tangled up in her beloved pink blanket; or, when she’s totally exhausted, flat out on her back, not having moved since I’ve placed her, tenderly, in her crib hours ago.

But all, of course, within reason: there are vast stretches of time I spend shuttling around my tiny apartment, tidying behind her or childproofing ahead of her, hastily attempting to fold laundry or prep dinner or order groceries during the handful of minutes in which she’s temporarily affixed her attention on a book or her Duplos or her dollbaby. In these moments, how is there any alternative to fast parenting, parenting on the fly, survival parenting? I’m of course bastardizing the actual meaning of “slow parenting” here, but maybe you get my drift — there’s a limit to how much lollygagging and admiring in which I can partake in any given day; much of the remainder is GSD time. (Getting s&%! done — pardon my French, mom.)

But one string of thoughts I did take away from the article that I will forever hold dear read as follows:

“I encourage parents to take some time to just watch their children, whether they are playing, doing homework, or eating a snack,” [John Duffy, a clinical psychologist and author of The Available Parent] says. “Take a moment to drink them in. Remember and remind yourself how remarkable your children are. That pause alone, even if momentary, can drive a shift in the pace”…

“We don’t overschedule ourselves. My husband and I spend lots of time at home. My kids dig in the dirt and ride bikes, we blow bubbles and go to the beach,” says [Lindsay Miller, a mother of three boys, ages 2, 4, and 7]…

This. As good a reminder as the reader who wrote in to tell me that (paraphrasing here): “some days, the grocery store is the adventure.” There is a push among moms of my generation to overschedule their children, to aim towards exposure, to optimize, and — possibly — to impress their other mom friends with the array of dazzling activities in which their children partake. I’m not immune to it, either. I want mini to have every advantage and every opportunity I can afford her, and I’m not embarrassed to say that I often learn and borrow activity ideas from the moms around me. “So and so is in a such and such class — vite vite vite, must sign her up!” But this article, and the comment from one of my magpies paraphrased above, resonates deeply with me: I want to raise a kid who digs in the dirt, who plays by herself building twig villages, who learns to preoccupy herself with her own imagination. A heavy schedule of classes and an active imagination are not mutually exclusive, of course, but there is something appealing to me about shaping a childhood with ample space for quiet time, for playing on the carpet of our living room with no agenda, for blowing bubbles, for taking walks through Central Park just because.

What are your thoughts? Have you tried slow parenting?

Post-Script: My Latest Mini Discoveries.

My oh my — these summer sales are killing me. I stocked up on BellaBliss’s summer sale, including a couple of pieces for next summer, like this darling perfect-for-the-fourth swimsuit. (My top tip when shopping for a mini is stocking up at the end of season sales. It’s kind of painful to know you’ll need to wait a year until she fits into them but WHAT A TREAT when she does!) I also bought this romper and a couple of dresses!

Meanwhile, this swimsuit is haunting me, and this darling sweater…! (Both on sale!)

Despite my determination above, I do try to take mini on one or two adventures each week, whether that’s a music class, a trip to the zoo or Natural History Museum, or a playdate. I absolutely love a program called Ella’s Playdate, which is a precursor to ballet, and I finally splurged on one of these tutus for the occasion. I’m absolutely dying over these ballet slippers from Anniel, but…relax, Jen, she’s only 16 months old. (YIKES.)

Mini wears her Native shoes all over the place — they’re perfect for long days in the park, when she might jump into a sprinkler at one of the many playgrounds. I’ve also been eyeing these, which are a major throwback to my childhood. I like their styling and also that they have a nice sturdy sole for my wobbly walker.

For days she will not be getting wet, I snagged a pair of Chus. How darling! I love the bow detail, which velcros in place (genius). After ordering, I discovered an Etsy shop that MONOGRAMS them! If mini likes her first pair, I’ll certainly be placing my next order there!

Finally, I also snagged mini a pair of Elephantito Mary Janes in silver. (Can you tell she just outgrew all her shoes? Ha!) Also, some sizes and colors are on serious sale here. I loved the pair she wore before she was walking; they’re truly beautifully made.

For play, this little train set is in my basket. Mini is currently very into Winnie the Pooh — she sways when she hears the music, she’s never far from a little set of Pooh, Piglet, and Eeyore stuffed animals, I’ve read her this book a trajillion and ten times, and on the occasions we permit her some TV, she will sit, absorbed, in the 1977 version of The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh in complete bliss. (I love that I watched the same thing as a child.) Hence, this is also in my basket.

I was eyeing one of these for her after my obsession with the SZ Blockprints brand took hold, but then a reader pointed me in the direction of Emerson Fry, and I love this caftan (coordinates with this for me!)

For sleepovers when she gets a little older…too precious!

Love this nautical sweatshirt for a girl or boy.

Also — I’ll be traveling without mini this weekend, my first time away since she was born! I’m full of mixed emotions but mainly very very excited about sleeping a full night on my own schedule.

Also also also — don’t you grow up in a hurry.

By: Jen Shoop

I am going to Annapolis this weekend for a very dear friend’s bachelorette party (I wrote about meeting her here), and we’ll be sailing, shucking crabs, and drinking a lot of rose. Accordingly, I am leaning towards my preppiest duds. I don’t wear them as often up here in New York, which feels sleek and trendy and urbane, and so this will be a delightful excuse to return to my teen years. We’re talking washed out Lacostes, faded Nantucket red chinos cuffed at the ankle, a reckless amount of navy, and striped everything. Think JFK The Myth — young, vigorous, well-heeled. (JFK The Reality is a different story altogether.)

Below, my preppy summer wishlist…

Chino Shorts in Old Red (also love these striped, ruffled shorts!)

A Long-Sleeved Polo (I’d order a size up for a roomier fit)

A White Ballcap

A Ruffled White One-Piece — just the right amount of nautical

Supergas in Vintage Blue — with a “they faded on the boat” vibe

A Country Club-Appropriate Wrap Dress in White (also love this — under $80!) with the cutest plaid slides

A Sunhat with a Preppy Twist

White White Jeans: This Poplin Top, an Eyelet Blouse ($65!), or This Ultra-Covetable Tasseled Misa

Striped Manebis (major Chanel vibes; on sale!)

A Beachy Striped Maxi (love the loose fit; have also been wearing this constantly — and this achieves a similar effect)

One-piece wonders: this or this (amen amen amen)

Bonne Nuit

P.S. The preppy makeup look is under-done, just-off-the-boat chic: a dusting of bronzer; a few dabs of dewy, transparent luminizer; a flushed natural-looking lip courtesy of Dior; and a spritz of a beachy scent (this smells insane). I also love a little body oil on the shoulders/decollete to highlight a light tan. And of course my two-step mascara routine, which I outlined in full here. Can’t go anywhere without some dramatic lashes, even post-sail.

P.P.S. I still get a lot of questions about my iPhone case.

P.P.P.S. My favorite monogram sources, and a true love story.

By: Jen Shoop

When we arrived at the beach, you pointed at the waves, cooing, your eyes bright pools of water themselves, a reflection — a continuation — of the bay before us. Before I’d even had enough time to spread our beach blanket on the dune, you were toddling toward the water, impatiently wriggling your hand out of mine. You plunged your feet into the water, squealing with excitement as the first wave washed over your ankles. I will never — not ever, not tomorrow or in twenty years or on my deathbed — forget the vision of pure joy you presented before me: your face radiant, your eyes alight, your fearless waddling further and further into the tide, until it was waist-high, and even then, you extended your leg out as if to take a leap even further. This, despite the sharp carpet of broken seashells underfoot, the sting of saltwater, the crash and slap of waves around us. You howled when we took you from the water, writhing in my arms and flopping dramatically onto the sand; you giggled when we returned you to it. You reluctantly sat on a folding beach chair, plied with peanut butter sandwiches cut into tiny squares, looking very much an adult as you delicately removed each morsel from the tupperware and looked out across the green-gray seascape, its fickle hue not unlike the mercurial hazel of your own eyes: now brown, now green, now gold.

I do not believe in the signs of the zodiac, but it came to me, in a flash, that you must be of the sea. There was something elemental about your attraction to the waves, your joy and intrepidity in its arms. When I took a moment to look it up, I was startled and at the same time unsurprised by the fact that you are a pisces and that your symbol is the fish. How apt — you who move like magic, whose moods are as fluid as the flick of a fish tail slick with water, who I can at once describe as “chill” and passionate when asked: “What is your daughter like?” Your flailings when confined, your daze when full and happy: my aquatic heartbeat.

*Mini is wearing this swimsuit. All of our beach gear for her first trip here.

Post-Scripts.

I still stand by all of the clothing basics picks here — these are absolute must-owns.

Ordered a pack of these for serving seasoned oyster crackers (mine is a recipe from my grandmother I’ll share later, but it’s similar to this) at my book club last week! I also considered these. The cutest way to serve little snacks. I coordinated with these napkins.

Has anyone shopped at COS before? It’s new to me, but there are some amazing sale finds: this striped tee and this pleated waist dress.

I feel like I’m constantly rifling around in my stationery drawer for a suitably attractive note card to accompany a plate of cookies or a note to the nanny or a quick explanation for the housekeeper. This should do the trick.

Rereading this gave me all the feels. We’re over halfway through 2018, and it’s been pretty damn good to me. Let’s make the last half count!

THOSE BOWS THO.

After reading about the label on Le Catch, I’m thinking I must invest in one of these We Are Leone dresses/dusters/caftans/robes. Swoon! Love those polka dots.

By: Jen Shoop

Five stars for Lauren Groff’s Florida. Five! Guys, I’m just gonna say that I rarely award five stars to books, but I’m going two for two in my Magpie Book Club picks. (See my thoughts on last month’s pick.)

Where to begin? When I think about this collection, I have two separate and immediate reactions:

First, I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of Florida that seeps throughout the entire collection: the heat, the tangle, the overgrown marshiness, the wilderness. The characters are almost always oppressed by their natural environment, antagonized by it. The language and pace and certainly the imagery are heady with Floridianess, and as you read, it’s almost like inhaling the aroma of a juicy red wine overripe with fruit: it’s thick smell hits you before you even taste it. (Did anyone else feel like they were sweating while reading the collection?) So why Florida? For one, the author is constantly in negotiation with climate change, hyper-aware and doomsday-ish about the imminent implosion or destruction of the world as we know it, so much so that we end the entire collection with the image of a young boy performing the end of the world with a big bang amidst rocks on the beach. Florida is a natural landscape in which to play out and call attention to these environmental concerns, given the lush prominence of its natural features and its oppressive heat. The proximity of the ocean and the frequency of hurricanes and other tropical storms in Florida are also convenient accessories to many of the stories’ end-of-the-world narratives. Groff also uses the drama of these natural threats to offset or mirror the volatility — the vulnerability, truly — of the narrow personal dramas of the individual, which are so often set inside, in a domestic setting: a widow battling her demons inside a house she once owned with her philandering husband while a hurricane rages outside; two girls abandoned in a ramshackle beach cottage, struggling with the loss of their mother, while snakes, blistering heat, alligators threaten to kill them; a wife battling rage toggling between a too-quiet home life and too-wild evening walks around the neighborhood (and that wilderness can take the shape of stray, vicious dogs; sinkholes; or rapists and other miscreants). I felt the push and pull of the domestic versus the natural world to leave so many of the characters (occasionally literally) caught between a rock and a hard place.

Second, I left each story with a heaviness not unlike the oppressive heat so present in many of her stories. I was overwhelmed by the haplessness of so many of the characters — their fraught relationships, their listless flailings against the status quo, their internalization of so many of the traumas of our times. But mainly I was disturbed by the loss of innocence that we see in so many of the children in this book. In one short story, Groff alludes to the story of Adam and Eve, original sin, the fall from innocence (and snakes — a clever stand-in for Satan — play a prominent role throughout the book) — and I saw that narrative played out so many times, so brutally, throughout the collection, that at some point I felt like reading the book was like donning one of those protective vests you wear at the dentists while being x-rayed. Most of the children emerge inured, hardened, and, in the most favorable light, resilient, but the image of their abandonment lingered disturbingly throughout the series: there was the son of the nasty, snake-obsessed father whose mother left him; the children in the tent city orphaned by a mother caught for prostitution; the two girls left by their mother on an island. Interestingly, though Groff paints a variety of potential threats, the characters are rarely destroyed by those dangers: instead, they are more often affected by the unkind or complicated or thoughtless or selfish actions of their loved ones.

All-in, there is little redemption in Groff’s collection, which reads like a modern retelling of “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” all gloom and doom as we consider our precariousness in the face of a nasty and dangerous world.

But my GOD can this woman write — each story an unimpeachable marvel of showing — not telling — us things through exquisite diction and perfecting detail. There were many passages that left me gobsmacked.

An absolute must read.

For those of you reading this in your own book clubs, a couple of reading questions for you:

Lauren Groff Florida Book Club Questions.

Why do you think Groff chose to set so many of the stories in Florida? (There are a couple that take place outside the state, though they wink at Florida or bear some connection to the state — why is that?) And why title the book Florida? Why the emphasis on location? (E.g., she could have set all the stories in Florida but still titled it something else — why Florida?)
Several of the stories include references to wealth, poverty, social class, and the derogatory slur “crackers.” In one story, we watch a professor slide into poverty; in another, a woman literally stumbles upon a homeless young lady asleep in an alley and attempts to have the police find out what is happening, describing her actions as informed by privileged white guilt. What do you make of these interactions? What do you think Groff is getting at?
The dangers of the Florida landscape — hurricanes, panthers, snakes, sinkholes, blistering heat, bugs, plants — are a constant across the stories. What role does the landscape play? What is Groff suggesting about the relationship between man and nature?
Some of the stories do not name their characters — instead, the protagonist is “the girl” or “the mother” or a character is “the older boy” or “the younger boy.” Why?
Which story troubled you the most? Why?
Groff makes a number of references to climate change, to the EPA, to Aleppo, the news — how do these current-day, real-life situations impact your reading of the collection?

Magpie August Book Club Pick: My Cousin Rachel by Daphne DuMaurier.

I mentioned recently how much I love DuMaurier’s Rebecca, which incidentally feels like it would live comfortably in the succession of wildly popular female thrillers that have come out over the last few years (Gone Girl, The Couple Next Door, Girl on a Train, etc), and then recently read a glowing review of DuMaurier’s later book, My Cousin Rachel, published in 1951. I’ve heard it described as “Gothic,” as an interrogation of sex and gender, as a page-turning thriller you can’t put down. Sold. Let’s plan to read by August 15th for a rousing conversation in the comments.

Also — please share what else you’re reading so I can select wisely for our September pick!

Post-Scripts.

+I recently started taking mini to swim lessons and realized that only my Solid + Striped Annemarie one-piece really cuts it in terms of appropriateness for the occasion. (Bikinis and some of the other frou frou styles I rock just feel out of place…) I found a couple of suitable additions: another S+S in a solid color (on sale!), this J. Crew in the vintage sky (pale blue), this white ruffled Marysia (bonus: mini can match!), and this striped Caroline Constas (not sure on the bottom coverage…too much? — but marked way down to $88!) Also, we had to buy swim caps (required by the pool) and I went for this throwback TYR style! That brand reminds me of summer camp as a child…

+Nars has come out with an Orgasm lip balm and it looks incredible. My bestie just gifted me this Dior Lip Glow, though, and I am solidly HOOKED. It imparts the perfect sheen and flush and it looks PERFECT with a summer tan. Super dewy!

+I’m dying over these baskets with scalloped liners. They would look darling stacked in a nursery!

+I saw my cousin in the Hamptons, and she had just bought a pair of these from the Goop Pop-Up Shop in the Hamptons. Now I desperately want a pair!

+If this sold out too quickly for you to make your move — try THIS! (Can’t beat the price…)

+Desperately in search of an excuse to buy this polka dot lovely.

+This bodysuit! Wowzas! Talk about taking date night up to the next level…for something a bit more demure, this.

+Darling Alexandre Birmans on super sale.

+Love these monogrammed turkish towels.

P.S. I cherished your reactions to my thoughts on reading.

P.P.S. I’m a crier. Are you?

P.P.P.S. More book club goodness.

By: Jen Shoop

I mentioned this in passing in Friday’s post, but while in the Hamptons ordering take away from Harbor Market for the beach, I saw an ultra chic pea wearing a blockprint boho midi dress with birkenstocks, her beachy wavy blond hair in a topknot. I not-so-surreptitiously admired her from afar and complimented her dress but stupidly failed to source it. I’ve since been on the hunt for a similar style and am now 90% confident it was an SZ Blockprint Kitty Dress. I love its description on the site: “Bohemian and airy without trying too hard. Perfect for summer evenings barefoot in the park.” Yes! All of SZ Blockprint’s pieces are hand-made in India, and I love (love!) the bold colors, dramatic sleeves, and splashy tassels. J. Crew ran a special collaboration with them, and I especially love this dress and this top, and am wondering whether I can get away with squeezing into an XL in this childrens’ style.

They all feel so vacation-ready — so breezy, so effortless — and especially as they are styled below and by the chic pea in Sag Harbor: with loose, beachy waves and minimal makeup! (She wore hers with Birkenstocks; I’d wear mine with my Hermes Orans or a pair of these, which has a heft vaguely reminiscent of the Birkenstocks, but with a little more femininity and refinement.)

If you are into this vibe, you might also love these shoes (#dying) and this darling printed top — and, of course, pretty much anything from RRR.

You can get the look for less with this or this.

For accessories, look no further than a pair of these shades in the pink or lavender, these fun earrings, and any of the bags from Indego Africa, but especially this one, this one, and this one. (I also love Indego Africa’s bowls — like this! Such great colors!)

P.S. Mini at 10 months. It was hard to read this. I can’t believe how big she’s gotten…sixteen months now!

P.P.S. Cooking lessons.

P.P.P.S. In a similar vein with this post…

By: Jen Shoop

My Latest Snag: The Talbots Haul.

OMG — Talbots sent over this pair of flats in two colorways after I mentioned them on the blog a week or two ago. I was so excited! I love their Missoni/Bottega Veneta vibe. Very chic and very comfortable. They also sent me this pleated skirt, which I intend to wear with one of my many crisp white button-down tops — but something with a little pizzazz, like this one with pintucking, or this with embroidery at the sleeve, or this with its shoulder flounces. And finally: they sent THIS! So so adorable. I’ll be wearing it with something like this ASAP.

You’re Sooooo Popular: The Talbots Flats!

The most popular items on Le Blog this week:

+The self-same flats I mentioned above! SUCH a great score!

+Heavily discounted Gul Hurgel.

+A breezy midi.

+Adorable button-front LWD.

+The key to all of your problems. (HA.)

+Chic, tailored mules.

+This little contraption was clutch for our recent trip to the beach!

#Turbothot: Eagerness as a Virtue.

I have decided that one of the most underrated virtues is eagerness.

I hate — hate! — the practiced cool and indifference we learn to wear when we are in our tweens, when we suddenly realize that excitement about Santa, or Barbies, or theme parks, or Halloween is beneath us, and we strain toward apathy. It’s cooler, we decide, to appear unbothered, above such emotions, in control of ourselves, and we use it as a weapon against those not yet fully divorced of their childish passions.

“Lizzie likes to play with her science kit. It’s so dorky,” we might say with a virtue-signaling eye roll that precariously places us on a ledge above Lizzie and all other insophisticates capable of such embarrassing interests.

This commitment to coolness persists through our teens, our twenties. Somewhere around thirty, things shift — not for all of us, but for many. Hobbies gradually become cool again — or maybe it’s just that we don’t care so much about what other people think any more, and we let our freak flags fly. Gradually, a friend’s deep investigation of, say, how to harvest scallops or how to play violin or how to make the perfect hangar steak or how to needlepoint or even how and why the Boer Wars took place have become attractive, tacitly approved.

Last week, in the Hamptons, the husband of my best friend — also one of my dearest friends in his own right — brought a case of assorted high-end wines and spirits that he had carefully picked out for the vacation. I don’t think we’ve ever drank better. He saved one bottle — a magnum of bordeaux from Newton Vineyards — for our final night, when we savored it alongside grilled ribeye steaks, thick-cut oven fries, and asparagus and zucchini dressed simply in olive oil, salt, and heavy-handed black pepper. He had been excited about the magnum all week, mentioning how much he was looking forward to it, how much fun he’d had picking it out, how decadent it would be to drain this expensive, complex red with the perfect grilled steak. (Plus, what’s not to love about a magnum for a celebratory occasion? So dramatic, so festive — its proportions reflective of the gaiety of the evening.) As he uncorked it, I could read the eagerness on his face from across the room, a smile on his face in spite of himself. It was there, in the candlelight of a vacation in my thirties that it dawned on me that eagerness is a recapturing of childhood, a return to the guilelessness and unguardedness of our youth. It’s a simple virtue, without device or affect, and it is woefully under-celebrated.

Cheers to those among us who make space for eagerness, who shrug off its vulnerabilities in favor or earnestness in the face of something that bring us joy.

#Shopaholic: The Date Night Dress.

+My next date night look is sorted. (Saucy! Giving me major Sofia Loren vibes!)

+We visited my cousin in East Hampton and they had one of these wagons for their two boys. Mini fell in love and spent the better part of two hours in it. If only we had the space…although I think I might opt for this classic!

+Random random random, but I’ve just discovered these round tissue boxes. Such a smart space saver for those of us with limited shelf space!

+More amazing finds for your home.

+We played a lot of Oh Hell on this trip — it’s our absolute favorite card game, and it is assured to make everyone alternately furious and ecstatic.

+Can I rave about this dress a little more? So flattering and easy; I wore it one day in the Hamptons and it was the perfect vibe.

+Speaking of blue and white stripes — this swimsuit would have been a welcome stowaway in my suitcase for the occasion…

+Lessons from a trip to the museum.

+OMG THIS TOP. NOW UNDER $20. WHY IS IT SOLD OUT IN MY SIZE.

+Someone mentioned this in a comment recently, but this Charlotte Tilbury “Flawless Filter” foundation is getting some major buzz. It’s like applying an Instagram filter to your face! What! (See more of my beauty must-haves here.)

+Do you wear your wedding ring everyday?

By: Jen Shoop

Loves — I am just back in town from the most gorgeous vacation in Sag Harbor, so I am a little short on time tonight, but I thought I’d sit down and jot a quick note your way while Mr. Magpie whips up a batch of bucatini all’amatriciana in the kitchen (one of those dishes for which we nearly always have everything on hand)…

Oh, Sag Harbor…! I am in love. We had such a wonderful time we’ve already started planning a second return before the summer’s out. I’m not sure whether we’ll return to Sag Harbor or visit another town in the Hamptons, but suffice to say we are complete and hopeless devotees of the Hamptons. Sag Harbor felt quiet, quaint, approachable, languorous — but sophisticated, well-designed. I loved the mix of old-school five-and-dimes and ice cream shops alongside higher brow restaurants and boutiques. Hard to believe we were just two hours outside of Manhattan; it felt like a moon-length away. Just perfect.

A couple of quick things that made the last few days extra special:

+A Granite Wear clam steamer. This is the legit real deal that everyone on the Chesapeake Bay uses to steam blue crabs. Mr. Magpie has wanted one forever, and this trip led to its purchase, as we feasted on local steamers (divine, dipped in butter) and lobster (equally divine, also dipped in butter). This would be such an incredible gift for a blue crab / seafood lover.

+Mr. Magpie swears by this cookbook for figuring out how to prepare lobsters, steamers, etc — and all the accoutrements for oysters (mignonette!)

+While in the Hamptons, I decided mini does, in fact, need a Minnow Swim suit. This is en route, just in time for her first swim lesson this weekend! (This less expensive similar style looked adorable on her, though.) Separately, I’m so sad I missed out on this rash guard style! (More rash guard picks here. And a full rundown of my picks for mini gear at the beach here.)

+This purchase has to be the best $20 I’ve spent all season. We use it constantly — for picnics and playdates in the park, that time we listened to the Met Opera al fresco, and, more recently, on the beach! Must buy. I wish it were a little more insulated/waterproof on the one side, but it’s super thick and absorbent nonetheless and comes with a little strap that enables you to roll it up and throw it over your shoulder.

+Things I wish we’d purchased in advance (rather than spending an arm and a leg at the last minute at the local hardware store): a soft-sided cooler (I love this and this for the wine), a beach umbrella (how darling are this or this or this?; value pick: this one), folding beach chairs (adorable, but this one is probably the most realistic).

+Less practical but just darling: this monogrammed insulated bag for toting snacks.

+I brought these melamine dip plates along for mini — they’re the perfect size for a little snack, and they can’t be broken!

+Everyone was wearing Birkenstocks. Everyone. They’re not really to my taste, but I have to admit a lot of the ladies were totally rocking them! I saw one ultra chic pea wearing a top knot and a muumuu style (muumuus for the win!) printed tunic dress with a pair in pastel pink and she looked ridiculously put together. I spent some time searching for her dress online (why did I not ask where it was from?!) and couldn’t find anything that looked exactly like it, but I did come across this $36 boho tunic dress which nail the vibe — just much shorter — and it’s currently in my shopping cart. (Also considering this.)

+I am obsessed with this preppy hat. I need it! I want to wear it with something like this.

+This is such a good idea for traveling with a dog!

+EPIC Intermix sale — an extra 40% off all sale! — and I am eyeing this, this, and these.

By: Jen Shoop

A couple of head-to-toe outfits for you today…

This Rebecca Taylor Dress (on sale!) with these H+M mules ($30!) and a Muun bag (love):

D+G butterfly dress and Hermes Oran Sandals (get the look for less with these) and an Amanda Lindroth basket bag (I have and love this, and it’s now on sale!):

Mi Golondrina embroidered dress with this Clare Vivier clutch and — too far? — these Mercedes Salazar drops:

This striped Madewell t-dress (under $60! — also love the ones from Kule) with this adorable iPhone case and Golden Goose sneakers (I own this exact pair) and a monogrammed canvas tote:

A pair of Illesteva cat-eyes, a scalloped Marysia one-piece (on sale!), a pair of knotted, scallop-trim slides, and a Pam Munson tote, maybe with this over top?!:

Finally — one interesting way to style your white muumuu? Imagine this with these and these.

And these belong with this. Just sayin.

P.S. It was an interesting trip down memory lane re-reading this…

P.P.S. I hate these words.

By: Jen Shoop

I hope that your day involves lots of watermelon, Tim McGraw, rose, and ice cream sandwiches, and that you’re wearing something festive. I’m wearing either a Caroline Constas blouse I bought a couple months back (on super sale now! — you can’t really see it in the picture, but it looks more red, white, and blue up close!) with white skinnies OR this Saloni dress, which is described as “hot pink” but looks more like nantucket red IRL. (Similar in ethos to this well-priced white linen style I’ve been eyeing.) I’ve packed both for the occasion and it will be a gametime decision. Either of those, or you’ll find me wearing my swimsuit, possibly underneath my white joveralls.

My only regret is that I didn’t come across these until just today. How adorable would they be with an LWD for the occasion? Not too on-the-nose patriotic, but just enough to let the world know you can get down with a theme.

If you find yourself escaping for some quiet time inside after a morning melting at the pool or beach, well — it’s a good day to shop online because there are some ridiculous deals to be had. Here are my top picks:

HEAVILY DISCOUNTED GUL HURGEL (are you a Gul gal too?!)

MUST-HAVE EBERJEY ROMPER (I am obsessed with mine!)

CLASSIC NAVY POLO SHIRT (or one for your husband/boyfriend — extra 30% off!)

PARTY-READY AQUAZZURAS

NEW PAIR OF BOAT SHOES FOR MR. MAGPIE (he goes a pair a year)

CLASSIC RED LINEN SHIRTDRESS

SWEET LITTLE ASYMMETRICAL NUMBER (UNDER $40!)

A STATEMENT BLOUSE

COMFY STRIPED JAMS

A CHIPPENDALE CHAIR!

And for minis…

A NEW PAIR OF HANNA JAMS (25% OFF!)

A SWEET FLORAL DRESS

THE MOST OUTRAGEOUSLY ADORABLE KNIT SWEATER

OLIVIER BABY TWO-PIECE SETS

POPPYBOWS ON SALE IN BRIGHT HAPPY CHEERY SUMMER COLORS

P.S. Still appreciating some wise words from Colin Powell.

P.P.S. A recipe for a rainy day.

P.P.P.S. A good price on a hyacinth basket, and I think mini would die and go to heaven if I presented her with this.

By: Jen Shoop

It’s been awhile since we talked cosmetics ’round here — and that’s for a good reason: I have been v. pleased with my skincare and makeup routine, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Still, I scattered reviews of products and so forth over the last few Magpie Polish posts, so I thought I’d do a full rundown of my current daily routine:

I start the morning by washing my face with Tata Harper’s regenerating face wash. I did a full review of this wunderproduct here, but the short story is that I prefer a face wash with a mild exfoliant in it, and this stuff is magical. A dermatologist once told me that daily exfoliation is too hard on your skin and advocated for Cetaphil, a bit of advice I promptly discarded; my skin is too oily! I need the exfoliation! I then apply Ole Henriksen’s Truth Serum, which instantly brightens and illuminates my skin — it’s like turning on the lights. I wait a minute for that to settle in and then apply L’Occitane’s peony perfecting cream, which smells like heaven and leaves skin dewily moisturized, and Sunday Riley’s autocorrect eye cream. I usually shift gears and make the bed or chase after mini while I let the moisturizers absorb. Then I apply Laura Mercier’s tinted moisturizer — it balances out the skin but looks super natural, and it has SPF. If I need more coverage, I apply Shiseido’s wetforce sunscreen and then Too Faced’s Born This Way foundation. One non-negotiable for me nowadays is wearing sunscreen on my face every single minute of every single day. I’ve already noticed the permanent damage sun has had on my skin from youthful summers — shame on me! — and am determined to protect my skin and prevent additional sun spots and wrinkles from developing. (#ThisIs34.)

I should interject here and add that I almost always change into my thin cotton robe (on super sale!) or Eberjey rompers (also on super sale!) when getting ready in the morning. I know it’s an extra step to switch out of pajamas into some other intermediary outfit but I hate being hot or cold or sweaty while getting ready, and these are so comfortable and breathable.

Next — I always apply concealer under my undereyes and on any blemishes — my mom gave me a tube of YSL’s All Hours concealer and it’s very thin — almost liquid-like — but surprisingly opaque; I like that it blends easily but covers the deep black circles a year and a half of motherhood have left under my eyes. My other go-to is Cle de Peau’s concealer. I have tried legitimately every concealer out there and I believe that this is the absolute best. It’s sickeningly expensive but it lasts; I re-upped my supply a month ago and feel relieved to have it back in rotation. If I am taking my time, I’ll set the concealer with Laura Mercier’s secret brightening powder, but most of the time, I’m in a rush to extricate mini from a tangle of cords or prevent Tilly from eating my breakfast, which is sitting, cold, on the dining room table. If I’m in a real hurry, I’ll use concealer on my eyelids to even out the tone and call it a day, but if not, I’ll dot a little of Laura Mercier’s eye basics in linen on my lids, and that’s as far as I go in terms of the eye shadow situation. Next I’ll apply a brush of Guerlain’s bronzer onto my cheeks. A makeup artist recently told me not to layer blush over bronzer (it looks too overdone, in her opinion) but I still do it, and frequently — except for in the mornings, when I’m short on time. In the summer, I’ll just wear bronzer; in the winter, I’ll swipe on Bobbi Brown’s blush in Pale Pink. Both the Guerlain bronzer and Bobbi Brown blushes are value buys — they last forever. I swear to God I’ve had the same bronzer and same blush for over three years, and I wear one or the other — or both — daily. You do the math! They’re like self-renewing infinity magical unicorn powders.

Last, I layer on Chanel’s nourishing mascara base (this stuff has been selling out all over the place!) followed by Diorshow mascara. Mascara is my ultimate desert island beauty product — I feel naked without it and I love a heavy hand with it. One of my older cousins is absolutely stunning — like, the prettiest version of me imaginable — and was a model and beauty pageant queen in her teens. I always hung onto her every word when it came to beauty and self-care, and I remember her telling me, when I was twelve or thirteen: “And then I put on a ton of mascara. I like it extra-goopy.” I’ve followed suit ever since. I didn’t know I needed a mascara base until I tried Chanel’s formula, and I’m hooked forever. It sort of plumps and separates and thickens the lashes, and then you go in there with the Diorshow and it’s LIGHTS OUT. (That’s not the right superlative, but you get my point: DRAMA!) I’ve had three people ask me whether I wear false lashes in the last month, since starting this two-fold routine. The other trick? A makeup artist told me not to just swipe the mascara up through my lashes, but to wiggle it on back and forth from the root up. It really works in terms of separating all of the lashes so that you don’t wind up with clumpy stumpy lashes.

OK, that’s more than enough on lashes.

What else? Nowadays, I skip on the eyeliner because someone told me (sob!) that, on most people, wearing eyeliner after 30 years is aging! Gah! We can’t have that. But when I do wear it, this stuff is the absolute best; it dries matte! I also love RMS’ living luminizer when I’m looking a little dull and tired, but I often skip it in favor of time saving. But the final non-negotiables for daily wear? Glossier boy brow (it’s so easy to apply and it totally frames and finishes your face) and a swipe of Sugar lip balm in petal, which adds just enough color but moisturizes, too. (And I can apply it without a mirror.)

For hair: I wash it every other day and have been using Bumble and Bumble’s Thickening Shampoo and Conditioner. Both Mr. Magpie and I are obsessed with it. It smells clean (gender-neutral!), a little goes a long way, and it leaves hair full and soft. I then blow-dry it with the products I mentioned in detail here. (Brushes are a key ingredient!) I’m also a devotee of plain old Dove bar body soap. We buy it in bulk. It smells like my childhood and I like the way it makes my skin feel — squeaky clean. Afterward, I apply Fresh’s Hesperides body lotion (it smells like heaven) and Tata Harper’s body balm to my feet.

Every couple days, I apply either Tata Harper’s resurfacing face mask or Origins’ rose clay mask. But when I’m in a bind, I still swear by m61 powerglow peel pads. They are ridiculous. I like to use them before I’m heading out for a night — I’ll swipe one of these all over and it’s like, “new face who dis” when I look in the mirror.

Before bed, I take everything off using micellar water and then clean it with Tata’s cleanser. I apply Origins’ Night-A-Mins refining oil and cream. It could be a placebo effect, but I’m pretty sure my skin’s never looked brighter or younger than when I’ve followed this ritual religiously.

Man oh man, what it takes to care for this 34-year-old body! I wish I were one of those women who only wore aquaphor and mascara and cleansed her skin with cetaphil, but alas, I am not…

The only other additions I’m contemplating right now are this sulfur mask, as I occasionally break out along my jawline and that is not so cute at all, this illuminating moisture balm (love the nude/clear color), this instant confidence stick (a “magic eraser” for skin?! — so intriguing!), and this volumizing lip and cheek tint. I love anything that can do double duty.

What’s on your radar? Any other wunderproducts to share?

P.S. Most of these products are covered in more detail in this roundup, along with a couple of other additions/must-haves.

P.P.S. Also beautiful? THIS!!!!

P.P.P.S. I’ve had this question a couple of times: how do you keep your cosmetics organized? I use these cubes under my sink. (This is similar.) I keep my lipsticks in this. But if you don’t have the space for that kind of stuff, I was thinking that these — which I use to organize our paper/office supplies — could also be a good idea. Use one for skincare, one for face, one for lipsticks? Etc.

By: Jen Shoop

For eighteen years of my life, I used the terms “style” and “fashion” interchangeably. Then I met a gal named Meredith and understood the difference. I had arrived in Charlottesville around eleven on a still, humid morning in late August. Those of you who have had the privilege of attending UVA will know what I mean when I say the air was sticky-slurry-thick and stagnant, the torpid scuttling of cicadas and the occasional rumble of a pick-up or SUV down Rugby Road seemingly the only movement across Charlottesville’s verdant, rolling landscape. I turned onto Gordon Street and pulled up in front of 1535, a squat house with peeling paint fenced in by a low brick wall and a green gate that hung askew on its hinges. After parking, I hoisted the first of what would be dozens of loads of belongings over my shoulder and stepped through an overgrown front yard littered with the debris of decades of college students: two white plastic lawn chairs inverted, a silver bucket rusted over, a couple solo cups floating around in the bushes and grass, a large black trash bag overflowing with beer cans. I grimaced, imagining my parents’ reactions; they weren’t far behind. I thought for a second about hastily hiding the beer cans but the humidity got to me and I scampered into the house in search of reprieve. Inside, the house took on a different tenor: though the floors were worn and the fixtures ancient, the house was clearly the dwelling place of women: fresh coats of pastel paint had been applied to every room in the house; a new-looking, far-too-nice-for-college-kids Pottery Barn sofa graced the living room (the obvious donation of a kind and well-to-do parent) alongside a broad wood coffee table dotted with sorority cups, nail polish, and magazines — the telltale paraphernalia of a college-aged girl. The home was cool and tidy. As I prepared to ascend the stairs to my bedroom, the front door swung open.

“God DAMN it’s hot!” A petite brunette with a raspy Southern accent entered, barefoot, wearing a gauze-y white muumuu and an expression of exaggerated frustration. The outsized volume of her dress couldn’t obscure her diminutive femininity and unadorned prettiness: her delicate ankles, her fine facial features, her slender wrists. Her hair had been thrown on the top of her head in a hasty top-knot, and she hadn’t a lick of makeup on. “I’m Meredith.” She walked forward confidently, urgently, and held out her hand by way of introduction, smiling sweetly. We’d met — briefly — during the process of co-signing on this house with nine (yes, nine! Nine! NINE!) other girls, but we’d not formally spoken and I had only the vaguest of impressions of her and her thick Tennessee twang. In that moment, I could tell by the spark of mischief in her eye and her easily-read aura of alertness and percipience that she was what older generations might dub a “spark plug.”

“I’m Jen,” I replied. She nodded.

“Well, Jen–” she pronounced my name like “gin” — “Here’s to a year of living with way too many girls. Am I right?” I nodded, because it was all I could think to do. Her confidence, the way she threw her shoulders back, her scantily veiled derision at the prospect of living with so many other women struck me as mature beyond her years: she had a point of view. Meanwhile, how different — not bizarre, but discordant — her outfit looked in comparison to the UVA uniform those days, all Lilly Pulitzer and polo insignias and madras and pastel. I recalled, suddenly, that she’d asked to have her room painted a deep midnight blue, while the rest of us had skittered towards pale pinks and aquas and lavenders. Everything about her felt original, unfussy, distinctively her, and I remember thinking all at once how pathetically sheep-like I was, standing there in my sorority-issue Rainbow flip-flops and pinstripe sundress. I understood, in a flash, that she had style and I did not—yet.

I’ve never forgotten the way Meredith looked that day, or the unanticipated introspection her brisk appearance in that door jamb incited. Her image is nestled in my mind alongside the haze of an August in Charlottesville, almost always a thought-length — that is to say, a millisecond — away when I think about 1535 Gordon Street, affectionately dubbed “the Gordawn,” that house where I started dating and then broke up with my first serious boyfriend, where Mr. Magpie almost kissed me before we were officially together (the full, cinematic story of our courtship here), where I became best friends with my lifelong best friend B. (she is fiercely private, but can I eventually convince her to be featured as a woman of substance, I wonder? #gauntletthrown), where I climbed out onto the roof with my good friend A. and drank vodka-spiked slurpees and talked about boys and school and our deepest fears and ambitions (an ode to A. here)–in short, where I finally set out to become the woman I am now.

These days, I can see the difference between fashion and style a mile away, and it has far more to do with personality than label-mongering.

That said, I’ve never been able to break up with the image of a feisty, petite brunette casually and un-self-consciously wearing an oversized white dress, bare feet, and a top knot — and I don’t give a damn if it’s inorganic, but I’ll copycat that look until the cows come home.

Below, my favorite ways to get that muumuu look…and I use the term “muumuu” very loosely as a stand-in for any old white, voluminous, rather shapeless dress. (I couldn’t find the exact one the chic pea above is wearing, but I’m pretty confident it’s The Row.)

+Embroidered Innika Choo.

+Smocked collar situation.

+Tiered, voluminous cotton.

+Same idea — in mini form. (And under $40!)

+Similar idea — with a little more tailoring. (And from a label I’m OBSESSED with.)

+Madewell magic.

+Midi length cha cha cha, and the same concept, but a bit less dramatic and far more affordable.

Variations on a theme: this stripe-print, tiered black tie deliciousness, and rick-rack trimmed linen.

FINALLY: A $29 white sundress that is easy and flattering but a bit more tailored and approachable than the muumuu steez.