Maman.

My sweet mother flew to Chicago late last week to help Mr. Magpie and I finish unpacking.  I don’t know what I would do without her.  Certainly live in boxes for longer — but that’s barely the tip of the iceberg.  She is endlessly generous, thoughtful, and patient, and yet she won’t beat around the bush when you’re not handling something properly or when you’ve opted for a hairdo or an outfit that you shouldn’t have.  I remember wearing a pair of fairly dramatic cat-eye shades in front of her for the first time, and she looked at me and asked, “Are those new?”  (Code for: “What the hell are you wearing?”)  I should have taken that as a clue to her opinion on the style, but blindly proffered, “Yeah, do you like them?”  She tilted her head to the left and said, enigmatically, “Make sure you push them all the way up.”  This was her way of avoiding saying the words: “I indeed hate them,” but the point was taken.

Ah, maman.  She is the only person in the world who knows the remedy to any malady (“Oh, you need epsom salt”; “Sounds like you have a stomach flu.  Stick to BART — bananas, apples, rice, and toast — and you’ll be able to keep those down”; “Calamine lotion and a cool washcloth”; “8 hour cream, then elevate the finger”; “Emergen-C, and STAT”), and she is an excellent diagnostician, which comes in handy as my sisters and I fall slightly toward the crazy side of the hypochondriac scale.  She enjoy a glass of very, very cold Sauvignon Blanc — non-Californian, and it has to be in a wine glass that’s been refrigerated for at least an hour — and makes a mean egg salad (so retro and so delicious), and don’t even get her started on her deep love for all things mango.  She is a devout Catholic, prolific reader (2 books a week, easy), and ridiculously (annoyingly) good Scrabble player.

You probably don’t want to take a look at her closet.  It is mind-bogglingly organized, as is everything in her life, including her purse, which she keeps tidy by way of a PurseKit, the console in her car (how…is that possible?), and every drawer that she touches in her life.  She lives by her calendar, which is immaculately kept in her perfect cursive — always and only in her Tiffany pencil, in case plans change.

So, of course, I figured out a way to con her to come out to help me finish the unpacking process, organize the confusing mass of kitchen supplies living in boxes in our new home, and, probably most importantly, give the house a once-over and earn her approval for it.  The trip was tremendously successful.  Let’s leave it at this: she may or may not have alphabetized all of our spices, and we probably have (no joke) 100 jars.

But organizational skills aside, she is my dearest friend, my fiercest defender, and the best advice-giver in the world.  And whenever I’m in a tizzy about something (i.e., every other day), she’ll look me in the eye and say, “Jennifer.  Jennifer.  [Insert words of grounding wisdom that remind me I’ve gone a little bit of the deep end on whatever topic seems like it’s the most important thing in my life.]”

And so, this post is going to feature a sweet, ladylike, and elegant color palette of blush/pink/white — just like my maman.  It’s got to start with this gorgiiine Valentino coat ($989)

Awesome with a Clare Vivier snakeskin-effect clutch ($210):

As we head towards fall/winter, I love this white nubby Carven sweater ($495 — or get the look for less with this style or this style) with this gorgeous Malene Birger skirt ($252 — love the texture!)

Finish with caged Rockstud flats ($995) and this fun little PLV bag ($95):

Alternately — and I’m not normally a fan or Herve Leger — this white blouse (Vince, $298) would look ah-mazing with this ombre skirt ($594):

Possibly finished with these Jason Wu tootsies (chic…and on sale for $397) and a YSL crossbody (love. $1,395):

Love you, mom!