Passage des perles

Stockpiling: When running out is not an option

2012-01-26T07:00:00.001-05:00

Do you have a piece of clothing, accessory or cosmetic that you stockpile because What if they stop making it?

The New York Times recently ran a piece by John Ortved on guys' squirrelling away of identical items, e.g., boxers, the perfect gray sweatshirt, beloved sneakers. Steve Jobs' sister, Mona Simpson, said in her eulogy, "In the Palo Alto house, there are probably enough black cotton turtlenecks for everyone in this church."

Some men profiled stockpile because they hate to shop, but most are like designer Billy Reid, who said, "My reasons usually have to do with availability, especially if I know it won't be produced further..."

Ortved says, "Women see shopping as an opportunity, a social or even therapeutic activity", but I have stockpiled, too.

Stockpiling is the well-behaved cousin of hoarding; the purpose isn't possession for possession's sake; you actually use the product.

Nor is it merely stocking up because there's a sale, like you might with toilet paper. You will buy the item at full price (but are happy about finding it discounted). You just need it. There is no magic number for quantity, but you will know it by your drawer corners.

Over the years, I'll admit to stockpiling:

- Lancome Brun Sepia lipstick (When it was discontinued, I bought a dozen tubes on eBay; I'm over it now.)

- A specific Olga bra

- Black trouser jeans (Black washes out from one day to the next.)
- Lindt fleur de sel cocolate bars, hard to find, at least that's my story.

Will they ever come back?

Often, the item is already discontinued when the stockpiling begins: Iris has a long row of shoes by now-defunct designer whom she does not want mentioned. Le Duc hoards bottles of Eau Cendrée cologne, Jacquie rations her bundle of Wolford diamond-patterned tights, last issued circa 1992.

And dadgummit, wish I'd stockpiled a few bottles of L'Artisan Parfumeur's L'Eau du Navagateur.

But stockpiling ties up cash, and will that loved item still be essential years from now? When I moved, I unearthed a trove of '80s shoulderpad camis. Remember those? You can still buy them, but evidently I thought they might vanish, leaving me devastated and slope-shouldered.

Anything you'll admit to stockpiling?

"Am I going to have to go to my own funeral naked?"

2012-01-24T07:00:00.000-05:00

Lately I don't feel very excited about clothes. Oh, I like them well enough, but can you remember the days when you absolutely ached to own something, or felt such pleasure in your new dress that you were breathless when you put it on?

I don't think I've felt such a frisson since I bought a Parachute pantsuit in 1973; I felt like Bianca Jagger, and probably acted like her, too. Walked into the boutique where it slinked in the window, laid down an unconscionable amount, never a regret.

Maybe that kind of clothes joy is meant to go the way of first nights with a new love, a memory that may be more entertaining in hindsight.

But now I feel more relieved than anything else when I find something I like.

I once stopped in Detroit to visit my 80-something year old Aunt Mabel, a glamourous blonde who was the life of any party for, as it turned out, 102 years. You would have loved her: Lauren Bacall meets June Cleaver. "I am desperate for clothes", she told me in Hudson's parking lot. "Am I going to have to go to my own funeral naked?"

It's getting harder to muster an outfit that delights. Lumpy hems, plastic thread, acrylic fabrics on garments that cost more than a plane ticket to Barcelona.

Maybe, given the boomers shifting up the ladder, someone will get hold of decent textiles and draft patterns for shortening and shifting bodies, for fingers not as nimble as they once were, for hearts still lifted by a beautifully-cut garment.

We need more ageless items, things that don't look like one has given up.

Several nominations, with love to Aunt Mabel (and there better be Old Fashioneds in heaven):

Tweed dangle skirt, Lafayette 148, current season

Yeohlee trench, Spring 2012

Yeohlee silk dress, Spring 2012

Lands' End velvet blazer, current season

Brora mohair coat, current season

Lafayette 148 jacket and shell, current season

Marni Spring 2012

Looks like someone might be catching on?

Recommended: The Gentlewoman

2012-01-19T07:00:00.001-05:00

Are you reading this biannual self-described "fabulous women's magazine"?

It's gorgeous, quirky, and assertively feminine, as if British Vogue and Ms. had a baby with the dad duty contributed by Tom Ford.

I, who rarely read and reflexively dislike fashion magazines, am addicted after two issues.

The editorial content features women in their own jewelry; the current issue features Italian beauty and jewelery designer Gaia Repossi (yes, that Repossi) who likes to wear her father's bespoke suits, re-tailored for her. (Papa must be quite svelte himself, you can only alter a suit so much.)

Other interview subjects are women of accomplishment, such as Appolonia Poilâne, the 27-year-old Parisienne who has assumed management of her late father's famous bakery, actor Olivia Williams, shown here in a divine Prada black lace dress, and American writer Jennifer Egan.

There's a feature on London magazine editors (shown, Paula Reed), making their way to work while putting on makeup, a light idea beautifully shot (most of the photos are black and white), so engages more than you'd think. I was engrossed by a similar feature in last spring's issue, in which women reported what they did upon rising. Rather like reading a Zen koans, it was oddly comforting.

Another feature shows Designer Roksanda Ilincic at lunch with real-life girlfriends. The fey copy offers luncheon etiquette: "Ordering is a delicate subject when women are lunching. The hostess needs to be thoughtful and volunteer a number of small courses immediately, so no one appears to be out of control for wanting two courses, or on a cycle of self-deprivation for choosing just one."

The Gentlewomen's elegance and deliberate, recherché sensibility is refreshing and slightly intimidating. The same extremely expensive garments (Prada, Stella MacCartney, Trussadri, Hermès, Chloé) that are shown in Vogue are presented here as if a woman getting on with things simply decided to wear her embroidered navy satin neoprene Marc Jacobs pencil skirt.

Such a skirt can elicit mournful wistfulness for clothes ethereally beautiful but mostly removed from my current life and budget. Still, like an exquisite Japanese garden, they lift the heart.

I'm relieved to be finally spared from seeing everything presented in hyper-saturated fake colours like that celebrity-worshiping mess, InStyle. The simple, sparse layouts and unfussy, straightforward language are worth the price of admission, $13 at my local newsstand.

Snag the spring copy (look for it in April); if you're already a reader, what do you think?

(First four photos courtesy of The Gentlewoman web site; last photo retrieved from magculture.com's blog.)

Winter wardrobe: Into the dark

2012-01-17T07:00:00.004-05:00

Yes. This is the skirt/pant section of my closet. Oh, and those are those multiple hangers; you are looking at at least sixteen black skirts or pants.

When dark falls a short time after the school day and the north wind serves an Arctic Cocktail shaken over ice, I'm living in black, with occasional departures to charcoal or indigo.

Those black pieces are not identical, Duchesse says defensively: leather, jersey, silk, denim in different lengths, cuts, attitudes.

On top, a sweater like one I'm wearing today, a pink Bompard button-turtle, but below? Dark as the bus stop at 5 p.m.

I've tried to break the habit; exceptions end up under-worn. Forget pale pants unless you have a dry-cleaner in the family. (Probably the most obvious money-is-no-object look I've seen here was a woman negotiating February's slush in oyster grey pants and coat with pale pink suede boots.)

In April, brights burst out of their garment bags, welcome as forsythia and tulips.

In my neighbourhood, two groups of women favour black. One are Hasidic Jews in modest skirts or dresses. They neither change their palette in spring nor punctuate it with a colourful top.

The other are locals in black jeans, dark dresses worn with long scarves, perhaps leavened by a dash of patterned tights or flying citron scarf. (This photo is from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, but could easily be Montreal's Mile End.)

The convergence of the groups puts more black on display than a Goth festival.

Boden velvet skirt

If tempted to do something wild, say, buy a yellow skirt, I have a nice restorative Manhattan and rethink. Plenty of admiration for this luscious colour— on someone else. Boden call this shade Antique Brass, but on me, more like Antique Ass.

I wore a black skirt, ink sweater and chartreuse jacket to meet a friend for lunch. Waiting for her, I watched women bustle by in blacks and browns, punctuated by the flash of rebel red pants. Oh wait, that's a man in ruby cords!

Lynn arrived in head-to-toe black, leavened by her swath of platinum hair and rose lipstick.

So where are you with black? Embracing, resisting or hopping about on the colour wheel?

Pondering What I Wore (WIW) posts

2012-01-12T07:00:00.021-05:00

This is a post inspired by the wonderful Deja Pseu's post about her year-end wardrobe review. I left a comment which I've thought about since:

"I think posting WIWs or WIBs elicits positive comments from women who *adore* the thing, but it still is not right for the poster. It is extremely rare that a commenter will say, "Uh, I don't think so". They don't want to hurt someone's feelings or make us feel worse, because the thing's been bought.

I tried it once (not on your blog) and the poster got so defensive, I thought, Never again. So I now just say something like, "Enjoy!" (Do people want an opinion or just praise?)"

Wait a little minute, I said to myself, after writing that. The enjoyment of praise is only one motive for the WIW post.

WIWs offer lessons. Women have always studied what other women are wearing for edification. "Oh, look how she ties a scarf; I could try that." The writer might show how she pairs a years-old sweater with new jeans; this imparts confidence that we can do that, too. WIWs provide vicarious enjoyment: mother-of-bride ensembles, party dresses, what to take on safari–what fun!

Sometimes the writer seeks validation for buying (I couldn't resist this; isn't it cute?) Perhaps she's excited about a bargain and wants to show us her good luck.

Or she has found something she likes and wants to offer you that information, too. (Therefore, here is the Wolff & Descourtis fine wool shawl, which "E.A." asked to see after I named it as one of my five best buys of last year.)

The thin ice is when a writer seeks feedback (Which shoes look better with this dress? Should I keep this jacket?) I've noticed that responses are sometimes more about the commenter's tastes than the writer's question.

It is here that I find myself challenged, on occasion. If think something's a mistake on her, I struggle with what to say. The real-life girlfriend can cry "No! Not that shade of red!", but should a commenter? I'm most likely to be candid when a writer receives all comments (short of nastiness) with even-handed consideration.

And how useful is my assessment, anyway, when so much is missing from the photo: the woman's animation of the clothes, her gestures, her personality? Haven't you ever passed several hours in rapt conversation and had no idea what your friend wore, once you parted?

Women's insecurities are ratcheted up to bizarre levels by the beauty and fashion industries– do we need more judgment? Or have we become accultured to constant assessment and competition?

When we face ourselves, as well as the camera, strive to please ourselves, rather than others, and feel beautiful in our own skins, regardless of the perfection of any outfit, then What I Wore is simply a record of us, on a given day, showing ourselves to the world.

Getting and spending: Year-end clothes budget review

2012-01-10T07:00:00.008-05:00

Even as sale offers populate like Monster Dough in a fridge, it's time to assess how I did on the clothes and accessories budget in 2011.

2011 report card

Spending: A-

I track every cent spent on clothing and accessories, and evaluate it yearly. For 2011, I came in at budget, including a spree in Paris. My self-set budget is kind of like Weight Watchers points: I always want more, but if I were super-disciplined I'd manage with less.

Wide-leg trouser jeans

Finally, I slew the Sale Dragon, but I did follow Frugal Scholar's advice (for groceries, but you can apply it to clothes, too). I stockpiled sale-priced black jeans (worn almost every day from Oct. through April) from Talbots and department stores.

Did I buy "fewer, yet finer" as I vowed at the end of '11? Yes, and at the same time realized, not without a pang, that I no longer need a power suit, an evening dress or even a dressy coat.

Busted myself down to a minus because I didn't save a penny.

Value: B+

Pink cardi blitzes winter blues

I ruthlessly assess the ROI for every purchase. But, you've got to relax, sometimes, unless you want a wardrobe exclusively populated by sedate neutrals. Eric Bompard's Oleander pink cashmere cardi is worth every penny when days turn dark by 4:30 p.m., as is a less-costly black turtleneck from Lands' End.

Clinkers: Mauve mod-print summer skirt, bought on sale, goes with little. Sandals that turned out to rub after awhile. Marimekko summer dress that might step up to the plate next spring.

For 2012, I want that A! After three years of tracking and analysis, I hope I've learned something. I'd live with one mistake; perfection is a grim taskmaster.

Advice to myself:


Motion pants; Catherine Andri cardi

1. Buy a dressy item that's perfect and a good buy when you see it, so you don't panic when an occasion arises and then spend way too much.

2. There's always a sale on jeans somewhere. Like cameras, you don't need this month's new model, and manufacturers discount last season's stock.

3. Drycleaning: evil hidden expense! These pricey pants, left, (from the boutique Motion, in Toronto) redeemed themselves: washable, no-iron, three-season. They alone saved at least $75 in cleaning bills.

4. To max value, the "'uniform'" approach (described in my "Simple Isn't Easy" post) cuts costs by at least 50%, once you get the uniform in hand. Not to mention doubles your closet space.

I haven't yet achieved that dream, simple, edited wardrobe. But I have disarmed the "I Like It, I'll Make It Work Somehow" trap.

Onward, to a new year!

"God bless the lonely people"

2012-01-05T07:00:00.044-05:00

from www.tightywhitesartsite.blogspot.com

Over the holiday season, I read a list of contributors to a local charity. Some gave in memory of others, but one donor touched me, a man who gave a modest amount along with his wish, "God bless the lonely people".

I thought of the refrain from "Eleanor Rigby",

"All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?"

Assuaging loneliness of those who wish relief is a mitzvah. But some bear their loneliness without the wish of ready rescue.
Because our culture gulps stimulation, loneliness elicits pity. The culture doesn't think much of solitude, either. We like the extroverts, joiners, mixers. Are we elevating those qualities, and imbuing loneliness, a universal human condition, with shame?

The art is in thoughtful response to loneliness, within ourselves or others.

Loneliness is like a vast desert; if you focus only on the hardship and barrenness, you do not see the beauty. And like the desert, if an oasis does not appear eventually, most of us languish.

If loneliness is not shameful, neither is it noble; like pain, loneliness doesn't make one stronger. It simply makes one more aware of the nooks and crannies of existence, of the boredom born from self-absorption, of the longing for intimacy paradoxically co-existing with the freedom of solitude.

An old friend wrote at Christmas of his ability to shift from anxious loneliness to peaceful stillness through his meditation practice. Others find respite in the visitor, the congregation, the invitation to mingle. Salespersons know people often shop because they are lonely, even if the shoppers themselves are unaware.

That anonymous donor saw that, when loneliness is coupled with deprivation, every drop of vitality drains from the spirit, and I am grateful to him.

And for a heartfelt endorsement of restorative solitude, I recommend Pico Iyer's essay, "The Joy of Quiet" in The New York Times.

“ Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.”
― Janet Fitch, White Oleander

Pearls: Going to great lengths

2012-01-03T07:00:00.007-05:00

Emilie sat across from me, slurping the whipped cream off her hot chocolate like a pink-nosed cat. She asked, "Are those pearls real?" Then she said, "Oh, I really like pearls, but I'm not the dressed-up type."

Emilie is in for a shock: there are many pearls that are casual, wearable and lustrous.

And in for a deal: I have a special offer to share! The esteemed pearl expert Sarah Canizzaro of Kojima Company is offering 12% off on any pearls on Kojima's site through January 12, 2012. Use the discount code HAPPYHAPPYPEARLS at checkout and tell us what you chose!

(I receive no financial incentive for my posts mentioning any vendor but could probably be bought, someday, for a rope of South Sea gumballs.)

Opera: the shortest longer length

Sometimes more is less. A longer length accompanies casual clothes better than short.

Opera-length at the espresso bar

Though the name reeks of la-di-da, the opera strand is temptress-may-care with a shirt and pants, as shown in this shot of Tilda Swinton in multicoloured Tahitians in "I Am Love".

Many women mentioned this strand to me; seeing them worn so offhandedly opened their eyes and they wanted them, as well as those Jil Sander orange pants and the young Italian chef. Girls, I can only do so much.

The longest opera-length (which spans from 26 to 36 inches) can double to make a two-strand princess or choker-length necklace; any opera-length piece winds around the wrist for a bracelet.

You also won't be wearing as much weight, which you will notice in 60-inch and up lengths.

Kojima Company mixed opera-length

These natural colour freshwater and South Sea baroques (mostly 9mm), accented with big "wing" pearls are a less pricey version of Swinton's clonks.

The 36-inch rope is $621 from Kojima Company. If you must have big Tahitians of the finest quality, my deah, add a zero to that pricetag.

Rope tricks

Lady Mary's rope

Ropes (50 to 100, even 120 inches) are enjoying their moment thanks to "Downton Abbey", where heaps of what we know are historic, incandescent Scottish pearls (now nearly extinct) swing to the waist. But those who don't dress for dinner will find a rope delights in the garden as well as the salon.

You have many options for wearing yours. A page on Kari Pearls' site shows 21 ways; use your imagination and substitute a simple v-neck for the rather bright dress.

Pearl Paradise peaches

I chose a 50-inch rope of big pink-peach freshwaters (9.5mm-10mm) for Tash, son Etienne's sweetie, for Christmas. The colour shimmers with her blonde hair, the size is significant enough for her age (late 20's). Perfect with jeans and tall boots or the vintage dresses she collects.

Beth Orduna at Twist

Another take: the 56-inch rope of mixed size (7mm-10mm) freshwater pearls spiked with agate beads and finished with a mod toggle by Beth Orduna at Twist; price, $968. Take this photo to your jeweler if you have a pearl reno project in mind; it's easy to make a variation.

Pearl and leather 55-inch rope

The ultimate in casual: a pearl rope with leather. Take yours on vacation to wear with a sarong. American Pearl's St. Bart's rope comes in 55-inch (7 pearls) or 100-inch (14 pearl) sizes. I've shown the freshwaters ($225) but it's made with Tahitian and South Sea pearls, too.

Tahitian 108-inch rope

Want more pearl to twirl? Invest in American Pearl's multicolour Tahitian version, over 100 inches of golden South Seas and grey Tahitians to wind and wear, here and there. Price, $2,500.

For an assortment of casual pearl and leather pieces, visit Calypso Sea; Florida-based jeweler Tanya G. Burnett works exclusively with pearls and leather, in many lengths and styles. (To remodel your necklace in a similar style, the pearls must be re-drilled with extra-large holes, a task for a jeweler experienced with pearls.)

Multicoloured keshi rope

Ropes of keshis, the freeform, all-nacre pearl loaded with luster, dress down as far as you want, but, unlike a leather piece, will also float up to your party wear.

Shown, a multicoloured 64-inch keshi rope; price, $388 from HinsonGayle.

Feels good to start the new year with a pearl post!

2012 will be pearly, as more jewelers play with intriguing ways to wear the most graceful of organic gems. I'll keep you pearl-posted.

Winter wardrobe: Chilly cutie seeks cozy companion

2011-12-22T07:00:00.096-05:00

After a record warm early winter here, the mid-December thermometer heads for the minuses (Celsius) for months.

I refuse to squawk about winter, inspired by Maya Angelou, who said:

"If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain."

You have to dress for it, is all. Several lighter layers insulate best, as any mountain climber knows. Say what you will for fleece, it doesn't make me purr. Cashmere, merino, alpaca, down: now you're talking.

Get it with the cream!

It lifts the spirits to wear a grace note. I'm not showing the things below to buy, especially, but to offer a short list of the winter-easers. Like hot chocolate with whipped cream, they are indulgences that make the difference between soggy and snuggly. (Who wants a glass of cold water when hot chocolate is offered?)

Someone may be thinking, Well, the ultimate indulgence is a plane ticket to Aruba, but, as a northern person, I find pronounced pleasure in a sunny, crispy winter day.

In the snood for love

British designer Louise Gray has designed a capsule collection for Brora, and though a costly collaboration indeed, this snood is a gorgeous thing. Price £160. And you get to say, "Oh my dear, where have I put my snood?", which is worth a few bob in itself.

Nice legs, man

Cashmere legwarmers! Golightly Cashmere's come in vibrant colours like Young Plum or Eversogreen, and are made to order in regular or extra large; price, $225. This is a weird photo; who wears legwarmers over bare legs, and isn't that a guy?

Fair Isle patterns always make me feel a star happier. I bought this from Lands End:

Cheery cherry turtleneck

They also sell a handsome pair of navy and red Fair Isle-patterned cashmere gloves. There's a matching watch cap and scarf, too.

Puff muffs

My love for earmuffs endures; I have ultrafluffs from Shepherd's Flock at hand. You can't shop online, but the service is fast and personal, and these are unabashed beauts. The leather-band model is $23 plus shipping.

Superior slips

Also on my list: silk long underwear, leakproof boots, pocket handwarmers. A stash of Lindt truffles, down mittens, LL Bean sheepskin slippers, a bottle of brandy.

What takes the sting out of sub-zero for you?

Merry Christmas and

Happy New Year!

The Passage closes after this post until January 2, 2012

I wish you a happy holiday, spent with those you love, amid the gifts of companionship and reflective, peaceful solitude.

Thank you for passing by; I look forward to seeing you soon.

Why personal style hasn't changed: Kurt Andersen's analysis

2011-12-20T07:00:00.088-05:00

Illustration by James Taylor courtesy of Vanity Fair's web site

Kurt Andersen's Vanity Fair piece, "You Say You Want a Devolution" attracted avid attention, including a hat-tip from Cathy Horyn, whose own NYT article, "Just Getting On With It" is also worth your time.

Horyn quotes Kurt Lagerfeld advocating "dressing up in jewels" while the Duchess of Cambridge chose a $100 Zara number. O tempora! O mores!

Andersen's thesis: "The world may have changed profoundly in the last 20 years, but stylistically the recent past looks almost identical to the present." For example, clothes in photos from the 1950s look entirely different from those of the 1970s, but '90's and now? Nearly indiscernible.

He calls the present a Been There Done That Mashup Age, caused by our limited capacity to absorb change on every front. Modernity eyes are bigger than the modernity stomach and all our space has been taken up by technology innovation.

I've been annoyed for awhile that items I wore thirty or forty years ago are trotted out as trends, but unlike Andersen, am less eager for the appearance of the Radical New as far as style goes.

The Radical New is expensive, as I recall from the days when styles changed markedly every few years. Shoulder pads were in, then out; your jacket would not hang right, all your skirts needed to be shortened this minute.

And Radical New on a woman who is not so new herself can look victimy if one is not in firm possession of a personal style syllabus.

Montreal's Souk@Sat event

At the other end of the consumer spectrum are the craft shows now ubiquitous as fairy lights in Montreal.

(Some carefully avoid the c-word, summoning as it does the image of a horde of middle-aged women swarming stalls of felted scarves.) I've visited several, and found high levels of design, even innovation, and reasonable prices.

The shows are packed with young couples hauling unsteady toddlers, looking to buy locally, to form a relationship that they hope ennobles consumption, if only a little. We many not need soaps that look like cupcakes, but it's pleasant to buy them from a chipper young man who made them over his summer vacation. They are heavy on reverence for the past: letterpress coasters, home canning, birch bark lamps, upcycled knitted collars.

At one of these shows, I saw a 20ish vendor in a below-the-knee tartan pleated skirt, with a striped vest. I paused to enjoy her colour sense, then thought, You just don't see those pleated wool skirts anymore. I imagined her combing racks at a jumble sale. She looked utterly individual, standing out in a sea of skinny-jeans-and-tall-boots.

She illustrated Andersen's point: the new personal style is formed by recycling the old, these days.

Andersen fears we are losing our edge, that nostalgia and steampunk will clobber our creative energy for making the fresh, the fantastic, the next great thing.

I say, fine. Unemployment is still cringingly high (especially among youth and post-50 workers), families are digging out of debt, the economy falters. How many 40% off and free shipping offers are in your inbox?

Let's continue to borrow from the past without guilt, to wear our coats longer, carry a cloth tote instead of an It Bag, resist the trill of the fashion timer.

There is room for the innovative, always, but the Radical New will not have dominion over women's dreams until more of us are working again, or feeling safer about our savings.

Tidings of comfort and joy

2011-12-15T07:00:00.015-05:00

If you celebrate Christmas, there is always a moment when the season grabs your heart, when you float without resistance into the glow of goodwill and festivity.

One day, we might have a grandchild!

For me, the moment came when I saw a little wooden tree made entirely of two-inch drawers, each drawer numbered, in a shop window. This was a perpetual advent calendar. You slip a chocolate or candy into each drawer, and a child learns how to count down to The Day.

The item reminded me of the many glittery advent calendars I bought for my sons, and how excited they'd be (little eager fingers!) when the windows grew larger as Christmas Eve approached.

I wanted that wooden calendar, even though my sons are too old, and I have no grandchildren.

My friend Susan came for a three-day visit and said that for her, the moment came when she heard "Baby, It's Cold Outside" for the first time in December. (She likes the Dianne Reeves/Lou Rawls version.)

Another friend waits till this week and watches "Love Actually" while drinking hot cider.

Other harbingers include lots stacked with trees; their fresh-cut piney smell is Eau de Holiday.

Torchlight parade on Mt.-Royal

And pannetone (ours studded with marron glacé); the donations my friends and I make in lieu of gifts, each choosing her cause; the arrival of the first (but dwindling) card in the post.

In my new city: torchlit parades, a flurry of funky craft shows; concerts like Rufus and Martha Wainwright and family's "A Not So Silent Night", which we saw on Sunday, the array of Bûche de Noël on tempting display in the bakeries.

Bûche

Let it snow!

And snow! I took this photo a few minutes ago on our balcony; can you see the flakes on my sweater? The Christmases of my childhood were white, and I love them still.

This is the first year that the family will be separated on Christmas. Jules, who is managing his heart condition ably, has a new job and a new future, at a recently-opened butcher shop whose mission is the promotion of local food. He's learning the trade and enjoying both the work and the staff's camaraderie. We'll see him in January, after the rush is over.

Because of his absence, I'd thought I might just slip past the holiday cheer, but no: I'm into it.

What puts you in the spirit? I would love to know and your spirit will add to mine!

Gifts: Panic-proof presents

2011-12-13T07:00:00.085-05:00

I don't think a gift can be too small, or that money spent equals a great gift. (See my post from last holiday season on hand-and-homemade gifts that cost little, and see the comments, too!)

For fear of too much/too little/getting it wrong, some of us, who know we are going to give a gift anyway, delay. Then it's the lacklustre gift basket stuffed with odds and sods, few of which are very good. I once read a funny piece about Christmas gifts from the 7-Eleven, but we can do better.

Where to go when panic strikes? My nominations for Best Last-Minute Gifts (Adult Division), below. Options given for your local vendor or the big names, who pack professionally, gift wrap and offer express delivery.

Zyliss silicone spatula

1. Buy fresh new essentials from your local kitchenware boutique or an online seller like Williams Sonoma.

Most of us let our housewares get grungy, and new ones are far down the replacement list.

Grab a handful of spiffy implements, a cutting board or good paring knife; throw in a linen dishtowel. Stay away from weird-flavoured oils and overpriced dish detergent in scents like gingerbread.

Get down!

2. In northern climates. something down.

You cannot have too much down in a cold snap, and if you take that to hea(r)t this minute and get fast shipping, you could score a snuggly Land's End Flannel Lined Down Robe (Price, $150.) It's hiding in the mens' section but an be worn by women too. Love the northwoods vibe.

Moroccan stuffed apricots

3. Nibblies, sweet or savoury

Here is a terrific assortment of easy, tasty appetizers; choose one or two to make the day before, or in the morning, and deliver to a friend. Yes, you need to buy the ingredients, but there is nothing that a dash to your nearly-always-open market can't handle. (The stuffed apricots pictured are TDF!)

Brooks Brothers shoe horn

4. Personal grooming gear par excellence

Bet you thought I was going to suggest a spa gift certificate. If you know someone has a favourite place and treatment, okay– but then you are not panicked.

Think beyond fragrance or makeup to find those finely-crafted items that are useful, but also a treat: A real horn shoe horn, a German nail-clipper, a lighted vanity mirror, or for big budgets, a luxe washable cashmere blanket.

Drop by your local haberdashery, best drugstore or salon, or follow the links to online vendors.

High quality pillows

5. Sweetest dreams

I love to sleep on good pillows and they've always been happily received as gifts.

A little knowledge of sleeping habits helps; a peek in the bedroom will reveal whether you're buying standard or a larger size. If unsure, a small boudoir pillow is a pretty treat for madame, especially if offered in a charming case.

Go to your nearest department or linen store, or order online from Garnet Hill or other vendors with fast shipping. Price, $50 and up.

6. Bacon, beloved of boys

Oink!

Carnivores, especially males, lose their stuff over a smoky slab. If you have a major 'vore to enchant, consider Bacon of the Month Club. (Price, $99-189.)

Zingerman's, the online purveyor of fine foods, offer three-month or six-month shipments. And you don't even want to know about their Forbidden Foods Club.

You could design your own version, making the faithful deliveries yourself. A friend did this with Cheesecake of the Month for her daughter and son in law.

7. Naughty is nice

Hello, kitty!

A lace headband and/or eyemask: Why not be the aunt who gives something not really, uh, sporty? Or the lover? These accessories are available from aptly-named eBay seller just4fungifts and you can get express shipping. I've also seen these at local craft shows, scooped up by young women who plan to wear them to New Years' Eve parties, concerts or just because they can.

If I have saved one person from receiving a drab gift card, my work on this planet is finished. You might also file these ideas for other occasions, as they are not especially Christmas-centric.

PS. Back for another year: Here's my Spiced Nut recipe, which knocks it out of the tree lot: quick, delicious, luxurious and so easy that you can make it with a child.

Spiced Walnuts
(adapted from New York Times Sunday Magazine)

1 pound walnut halves (or pecans, or skinned hazlenuts)
1/3 cup dark-brown sugar
2/3 cup white granulated sugar
1 tsp kosher salt
Generous pinch cayenne pepper
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp cardamom

1 egg white, room temperature
1 tbsp water

Preheat oven to 300F.
Mix sugars, salt, cayenne, cardamom and cinnamon; set aside.

Beat egg white and water until frothy but not stiff. Add nuts, stir to coat evenly. Sprinkle nuts with sugar mixture, toss till evenly coated.

Spread sugared nuts in a single layer on parchment-lined cookie sheet. Bake for 30 min, stirring occasionally.

Remove from oven and separate nuts as they cool. When completely cool, pour nuts into a bowl, breaking up any pieces that stick together.

Package in a mason jar, or make a paper cone.

Oprah and "what men don't get": Caitlin Flanagan

2011-12-08T07:00:00.107-05:00

Caitlin Flanagan wrote about Oprah Winfrey in the December issue of Atlantic Monthly (available online as "The Glory of Oprah").

The piece begins with the elegiac final shows, traverses Winfrey's horrendous childhood, then catalogs her soft spots (dogs, candles, reunions) and aversions (domestic violence, inequality). Flanagan hits all the notes, including Winfrey's notable grandstanding.

Oprah: Finding a way

Near the end, Flanagan summarizes Winfrey's contribution, the establishment of a cultural edifice for her vision of the feminine psyche.

The Oprah Winfrey Show was its hodge-podgy portal for a disconcerting mix: domesticity/danger; social justice/bras; Beyoncé/Maya Angelou, darkness leavened with froth, because Oprah has a mission, to make things better, especially (but not exclusively) for girls and women. A scholarship, a find-a-child-molester-in-hiding hotline, a Nate Berkus bedroom: there is a way out of hell.

Flanagan writes:

"There are certain things about women that men will never understand, in part because they have no interest in understanding them. They will never know how deeply we care about our houses–what a large role they play in our dreams for ourselves, how unhappy their shortcomings make us.

Men think they understand the way our physical beauty–or lack of it, or assaults on it from age or extra weight–preys on our minds, but they don't fully grasp the significance these things have for us.

Nor can they understand the way physical comforts or simple luxuries–the fresh towel or the fat new cake of soap–can lift our spirits. And they will never know how much of our lives have been shaped around the fear of bad men and the harm they can bring us if we're not careful, if we're not banded together, if we're not telling one another what to watch out for, what we've learned.

We need each other's counsel, and oftentimes it comes when we're talking about other things, when we seem not to have much important on our minds at all."

Not all of Flanagan's "certain things" resonated; to generalize as much as Flanagan has, I say most men 'get' more than she thinks and are equally appalled by violence and injustice.

I began to ponder: Are there other "certain things" that I would list?

My list-in-progress:
1. A small act can have great repercussions for me, and I'm not "over-reacting"
2. Yes, this pair of black shoes is different from the other four pairs
3. I don't view everything as a competition, at least not against other persons.

Then I began to run dry, because many things I thought of as differences relate to values or upbringing, not gender. Some men do not 'get' the absolute importance of my children to me, but I know women who don't 'get' it either. There are women who care far more about sports than I do, men who are more clothes-conscious.

Women do not get some things about men, either; we consistently underestimate their need to demonstrate competence—and to receive appreciation for it—and we don't acknowledge how much men, too, need support for life's reversals.

Besides, if men fully understood everything about us, maybe they wouldn't find us such fascinating company.

Gifts: How to buy intimates

2011-12-06T07:00:00.033-05:00

This post is for men, or anyone with trepidation about buying intimate wear for a woman.

Women who enjoy lingerie and its more proper cousin, sleepwear, are delighted to receive dainties, if well-chosen. So before you swipe your credit card, a few tips:

1. Bras 101: Even va-voom has to fit.

Guys, guys, guys: size counts. Her size, that is.

A bra fits in three dimensions; it's a tricky purchase even for us. To get it right, peek at the tags, ask her sister, anything but flapping your hands around the saleswoman's torso, saying, "Pretty much your size, but bigger".

You'll give the gift that keeps giving back... but only if she wears it. You safest option is to pick a beautiful bra and panty* in a brand she buys. Notice whether she wears full or demi-cups, push up, padded. Buy from a shop that allows exchanges and has extensive stock.

Lace is very pretty, but an all-lace bra in larger cup sizes is not very supportive, so chose lace that's applied over the cup, or lace trim, as shown in the photo provided for instructional purposes. Shown, Prima Donna Deauville underwire bra, in Cherry Punch, $119 from A Brief Affair.

If a peek in her drawer reveals only beige and black, avoid wild colours, but navy is a chic choice for a neutral-loving woman.

*Always buy the matching panty. If the bra is black, you're right, she probably has something to wear with it, but go ahead anyway. A beautiful bra without the matching panty is like a golf ball without a tee.

2. Too sexy can be unsexy, but not-sexy can be very sexy.

Some women would feel self-conscious and unhappy in the Prima Donna bra, but flirty in German flannel pjs from Garnet Hill. Hint: if she is sleeping now in the "Property of Wayne County Athletic Dept." t-shirt that your son left behind, the flannel could be the better choice.

Nothing with a drawstring waist, kiddie patterns (cows, teddies, football logos) or writing across the seat.

We also like pretty things we can actually wash. I love Hanro for this reason. If you're in rugged winter climate, their non-scratchy woolies with lace trim will be coveted. (Price, $155 from Garnet Hill.)

Hanro make high-quality lingerie for all climates. Don't forget that point about the bra and panty: same for a cami. (But you can give just panties. Don't ask why.)

Above, Hanro Kiss camisole and bikini brief from Neiman Marcus.

3. Look for luxurious natural materials.

We appreciate your diligence, but you can put down that Victoria's Secret catalog. Think of the seductive luxury of other eras: velvet, satin, fine combed cottons.

Silk, which most men equate with sensual delight, is delicate for bras and panties that could actually be worn and is hard to care for, but in heavier weights like charmeuse, makes a divine gown, chemise or robe.

A lavish robe, long or short, is better for those of us with mature figures than a teensy bustier or a corset, unless you know she wants one.

It's hard to go wrong at Nancy Meyer. Arlotta's long cashmere robe ($498) lets you off the hook re precise fit (sizes XS-L) yet still delivers that Oooooh Factor.

4. Don't get us anything called "shapewear".

We buy this for ourselves; we'd rather you think we don't need it. Instead, choose a pretty chemise, which is a luxurious item that has nothing to do with control.

The Natori lace-top chemise (aka "slip") suggests that what lies beneath is perfect as it is. (From Neiman Marcus; price, $80 on sale.)

5. Not every woman is a standard size. Don't think that beautiful lingerie is off-limits to the plus-sized siren or the women with a mastectomy.

Web sites like Oola (international shipping) offer many tempting choices for large-sized women; the Floreale embriodered bra and panty are but one example.

DiMurini make exquisite lingerie; the woman who's had breast surgery can have a bra every bit as opulent after as before.

The Rowena bra is £55; the matching brief, £25.

Don't forget the elder. She wants to feel pretty, but grannies do not necessarily want a granny nightgown. Look for graceful styles like this Calida Egyptian cotton knit gown, which slips on without buttons. In sizing up to 18; price, $75 from Vermont Country Store.

6. Don't wonder why something so tiny costs so much.

You can economize by watching for a sale, don't cut corners on quality. Cheap lingerie scratches, loses shape and looks ratty after a few months. Better to buy an Egyptian cotton chemise than a gown and robe of sub-par poly.

You can find some treasures trolling Etsy, but look for new rather than vintage or upcycled materials. This cotton jersey Black Retro Bra Top by seller NaughtyNaughtyLingerie rocks, and it's only $35 (plus shipping); matching boyshorts panty, $18.50.

Finally, if you do decide to go with a provocative choice, think about where you will present it. My friend Jo was mortified to pull a certain piece out of its box in front of her in-laws. That sort of item is best presented in the place for which it is destined, the boudoir, accompanied by champagne and your solicitous assistance in trying it on. (Shown, Agent Provocateur Maggie playsuit, price, $390.)

Louie Schwartzberg @ TED: Gratitude, Beauty, Life

2011-12-01T07:00:00.101-05:00

A triple treat: Louie Schwartzberg's time-lapse nature photography accompanied by three narrators: Schwartzberg himself, an anonymous young girl and an elderly Benedictine monk, Brother David Steindl.

I hope you will take just under ten minutes to view it. It may enhance your day, as it did mine.

There is no irony whatsoever in this talk, no criticism, no complaint, no disappointment. Sometimes that is all I wish, in order to summon strength. We can all use "seeing beautifuller things".

Gifts: Good things in small packages

2011-11-29T07:00:00.014-05:00

The first of a three-Tuesday series on gifts.

I have become a mini-gift aficionado, since moving to a much smaller home. I'm not alone: young people in tiny apartments, simple-living devotees and friends who have de-cluttered are among those who no longer wish a bulky gift.

I can of course treat someone to a restaurant dinner or event, but sometimes I want to give a tangible gift that lingers a little longer.

Here are ideas for presents that don't take up much houseroom, but, when they match the recipient's taste and needs, provide outsized pleasure.

Glowing goodness

Honeybells (or other specialty fruits), Cushman's

Price, $30 for 18-24 luscious tangelos.

Hot stuff!

Insulated food flask, Fishpond Telluride

Price, $39

The flask sits in a sleeve and keeps the contents warm all day. A gift that that Ms. Lunch-at-Desk is unlikely to buy for herself. (Recommended by my birder friend Peggy, who carries one on her outings.)

Sweet sheets

Drawer liners, Crabtree & Evelyn

Price, $24 for box of six sheets; various scents

Sheets smell musty when enclosed by a drawer. Liners or sachets freshen them, and are a welcoming treat when you make up the bed.

Shoe rescue

Woodlore cedar shoe trees, Zappos

Price, $24

One day your friend will be caught in a downpour. Any shoe will thank her for drying out in a pair of these. Available in models for men or women.

Polished iPad

Handmade leather iPad case, by Aligata

Price, $63

Most of us make our electronics go commando. If you want to spoil someone, give his baby a sweet surround. No iPad? Choose an e-reader or bus pass case.

Zazzle dazzle

For vegans or anyone who likes the quirky graphics, see Zazzle's whimsical selection. Price for case shown, $63.

Edwardian emeralds

Antique fly stick pin, N. Green & Sons @ First Dibs

Price, $1,695

Someone might have occasion to give a special gift. The ca. 1910 cushion-cut emerald, old mine diamond and ruby fly alights on a sweater and winks discreetly. Well, not that discreetly, but that's the point.

These items are also easy to ship. If you are mailing something very small, though, put it in a gift box at least the size of your hand and then in a padded mailer, so it is not lost in delivery.

Alert: Pearl Lovers, A Peach (or Lavender, or White) of a Sale!

2011-11-25T09:15:00.001-05:00

A quick alert for you pearl-appreciating women (or those who love them), amaaaazing buys at Pearl Paradise today, from freshwaters to South Seas and Tahitians!

Vacation apartment rentals: Lessons learned

2011-11-24T07:00:00.000-05:00

Le Duc and I typically rent an apartment when we visit Paris, now that longtime local friends have downsized from family homes or retired to other cities.

An apartment makes sense for us. We need two bedrooms (serious snoring on his part, despite surgeries and therapies). He works part of the time on the trip, sometimes in the middle of the night. We like to receive friends; we also enjoy the break from eating every meal in a restaurant. A washer/dryer makes traveling light easy.

For nearly a decade, we've used the same agency, Paris Address, and received excellent service. But, distracted by other matters, we were not as vigilant in our selection this time. We ended up in a clean but charmless flat. The place lacked any grace notes, let alone stoppers for sinks.

The kitchen was insufficiently and cheaply stocked: one dishtowel, two old napkins. Some of the furniture in the photos below had been swapped for pieces in rundown condition; the thin, stained livingroom carpet, not evident in the photo, created such a bleak ambience that we would not have anyone visit. The curtains were now dreary beige and the tiebacks shown had gone on vacation.

Apt. #1 looked pleasant enough...

and had large, comfortable beds, but...

On the plus side, the beds were fine, there was a tiny but newly-installed bathroom, and one bedroom window opened to a pretty courtyard. In short, habitable but not gracious. That is, habitable until a major construction project began upstairs, canceling any chance at relaxation.

After I broke into sleep-deprived weeping, Le Duc called Paris Address and in less than an hour we were relocated to a gorgeous apartment in a nearby neighbourhood.

Apt. #2 was so appealing and well-equipped that we were on a different planet. The price for the time period we stayed was €1,195/week (US$1,660), a bit less than Apt. #1. That's about US$230 a day and just try to find two hotel rooms with these amenities in the 5th or 6th arr. for less.

Bon matin!

This is one cool pad, from decor to the well-stocked kitchen. The front window provides a bird's-eye view straight down chic Rue Mabillon, framed by the arcades of Marché St. Germain. We saw Paris awaken each morning from this exact view.

Apt. #2: Dining area in LR

Livingroom: View toward window

Livingroom: Désirez-vous un apéritif?

Here are the lessons learned; I hope you can use them for any location.

1. The camera does not lie, but it can fib. Photos on the site may not be recent. In Apt. #1, furniture had been moved to make rooms look larger and the best view was obscured by the 'real' arrangement. Some furniture was exchanged for inferior pieces, and a camera can't show a rickety table.

2. If you're disappointed, state your issues politely and ask to be relocated as soon as possible.

- Take the phone number and name of a manager at the agency with you. (Paris Address told us that Apt. #1 was inventory from another agency and said that they had not inspected the place personally "yet". Whatever; they moved us.)

- Be reasonable and flexible. The agency cannot know if neighbours have plans for major renos. They are technically are not responsible for peace and quiet, any more than a hotel can be responsible for that drunken soccer fan party under your window. But the agency wants satisfied return customers, and a cooperative attitude gets the best results.

3. Price more often reflects square foot of apartment than "niceness". Apt. #1 was in fact slightly more expensive than #2, because of a slight size difference. The increase in space was in a useless hall.

4. If you have a certain ideal image, be clear about it and talk to the agency before booking. If you long for an antique-filled garret, or plan to cook for a crowd, or need absolute quiet, say so. Read the customer reviews, paying attention to date of post. We wish we had, because one man had flagged the deficiencies in Apt. #1 with acerbic accuracy.

We can't wait to return to Apt. #2. But we're won't count on a "one and only", because these places come and go from the market.

Once relocated, we felt that we were living, as the Italian saying goes, "like God in France". We learned how to choose more carefully and recover when we make an error.

If you have any further tips about making wise vacation rentals, I would appreciate hearing them.

Jewelry: Santa, baby

2011-11-22T07:00:00.022-05:00

Today, some tempting pieces, perhaps as gift or to treat yourself. The timing suggests Christmas, but whether you celebrate it or not, here are contemporary pieces for various budgets, free of logos.

Asymmetrically-set Australian opal ring, Alexandria Rossoff. Price, $1,195. A flashing opal set in 18k gold, modern and refined.

Christophe Lemaire brass cuff, from Bird, who deem it "like a Richard Serra sculpture". Price, $140.

Stacked keshis are among my favourite varieties, and when you add handmade black diamond rondelles and clasp, you have unusual pearls that can be worn everywhere. From Kojima Company; price $430.

A fun, hip etched NYC map-print wide cuff in nickel from Etsy seller HannahRuthDesigns; other cities available. Price, $60.

Anne Sportun's smart Eclipse ring has a 20mm 18k yellow gold textured center surrounded by pavé-set black diamonds (.34cts tw). An unusual anniversary gift or a right-hand ring, left-hand ring–who cares, it's gorgeous. Price, $2,980 (Canadian dollars.)

Does someone mean "the world" to you? Fisher and Kinmark World Map necklace of stainless steel continents linked by chain, from MOMA Store. Price, $60.

The splurge: Luscious, big ruby and pink tourmaline earrings by Nak Armstrong at Twist. Price, $2,700. Notice anything new, dear?

My parents played and played Eartha singing her holiday classic. I was too young to get the double entendre, but eventually her purr became evident.
Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's
I really do believe in you
Let's see if you believe in me

Boo doo bee doo!

Roiphe defends risqué

2011-11-17T07:00:00.002-05:00

Katie Roiphe

If only we were all sitting over coffee, after we'd read Katie Roiphe's OpEd piece, "In Favor of Dirty Jokes and Risqué Remarks" in the New York Times (Sunday November 13. 2011.)

I'd love to hear your stories, share mine.

Let's let Roiphe go first:

"In our effort to create an unhostile work environment, have we simply created an environment that is hostile in a different way? Is it preferable or more productive, is it fostering a more creative or vivid office culture, for everyone to vanish into Facebook and otherwise dabble online? Maybe it's better to live or work with colorful or inappropriate comments, with irreverence, wildness, incorrectness, ease."

She says, "The majority of women in the workplace are not tender creatures and are largely adept at dealing with all varieties of uncomfortable or hostile situations."

I've never been sexually harassed in the workplace; I know women who have experienced the range, from a lone comment to stalking. And by sexual harassment, I mean unwanted attention, usually verbal and sometimes physical.

We can't take sexuality out of the workplace. We can create and enforce policies that say certain behaviours will not be tolerated. Harassment depends on the harasser thinking no one will stop him or her.

We need to deal with the bullies and idiots who think they can intimidate someone into unwanted activity. (And even if wanted, work is not the place to make your desire known.) I've worked in organizations where a person (usually a man, once, a woman) has lost his or her job for such behaviour.

But recently I heard a man compliment a colleague on her sweater, saying, "That blue matches your eyes perfectly", then follow, sincerely and immediately with, "Oh, I hope that was not inappropriate."

I recall the hundreds of risqué jokes I've been told at work. Humour reveals what confounds and disturbs, what we love, what we hate. There are jokes so funny they crack me up two decades later and others so blatantly full of hate and meanness that I had to say, in the moment, "That's not funny to me."

Riophe assumes that, in 2011, women at work need no support in this area. I disagree. At the same time, let's be clear about what harassment is, define the line we don't want crossed and not get bent out of shape about jokes or comments that acknowledge we know about sex– and think about it fairly often, even during work hours.

RIP, Larry. Larry was an HR Vice President with whom I worked 30 years ago. His advice was, "Think first, 'Would I tell this joke to my mother'?" Apparently Larry's Mom was quite open-minded, because he told me some of the funnest racy jokes I've ever heard.

What's your story, your perspective, your take on Roiphe's thesis?

Crew's news and online reviews

2011-11-15T07:00:00.042-05:00

Mickey Drexler, CEO of J. Crew, was interviewed recently in The Globe and Mail.

Interviewer: Apple creates demand for things people didn’t even know they wanted. How does that apply to J.Crew?

Drexler: "That was Steve’s favourite line—that customers don’t know what they want unless you show it to them... If you market it and you show it and they don’t want it, you lose. End of argument. You can’t argue too much with the customer."


Not computer science

Do designers really "have to show it to us"? Drexler reaches a little far for the genius designation that Jobs handily earned; this is not technology, it's clothes. I could not have dreamed up the iPod, but can imagine a violet peacoat or navy silk shirt I can wash myself.

Manufacturers do listen to customers, or claim they do. I've read plenty of Lands' End copy that says "You asked us to bring this back, so we did", or "The cut will please those of you who asked for a longer jacket". Are they making this up?

I suspect the market Drexler tries to shape is a youthful one, with plenty of disposable income. I challenge J. Crew to cut for mature bodies even if they have to create a second line, and to use the same juicy fabrics.

They are already extremely quietly selling a handful of semi-formal and wedding dresses, like the silk-taffeta Blakely in up to size 20, but I'd also like to see short dresses with skirts longer than 18 inches. And why not pants and skirts in this range?

J. Crew expanded size dress

Come on, Drexler! Someone has to capture the 50+ market by offering more wit and sass than the stalwart Bean, dependable Lands' End or utilitarian Eddie Bauer.

What these more conventional companies are doing is publishing customer's online reviews and product ratings.

LL Bean Rating Snapshot

Lands' End Views and Reviews

How useful are these to you?

I'm still surprised that some companies print these. If you think you want those LL Bean boots or that cute Boden skirt, the reviews can easily change your mind.

I can sink into a near role-playing world, in which I try to figure out if a narrow-footed retired dog-walker in Vermont would have good judgment about a pair of winter boots. Reviews keep a company on its toes, because they'll be stuck with inventory if customers condemn a specific item with a one or two-star rating.

J. Crew don't play. Bloggers may post scathing remarks about shreddy cashmere, but Drexler keeps it under wraps, and provides no customer feedback system.

The economy's still slow, retail limps along. Seems to me that an online retailer who does not provide product feedback is taking an expensive stance, especially when free shipping is only offered as an occasional promotion.

Keeping a weight loss lost

2011-11-10T07:00:00.067-05:00

Edina: I mean what you two don't seem to realise is that inside of me, inside of me, there is a thin person just screaming to get out.

Mother: Just the one, dear?

- Absolutely Fabulous Episode 1.2, "Fat"

For us Eddies of the world, nutritionist Leslie Beck's article "How to Keep Off the Pounds You've Shed" is a good news/bad news report. (The Globe and Mail, in its inscrutable Canadian way, will at some point paywall access.)

I don't aspire to be thin, just within a healthy weight range, where I reside at the top. (If you are wondering if you're in the healthy range, as defined either by body-fat percentage or waist-to-hip ratio, the site healthyforms.com provides great tools.) Some achieve this by genetic good fortune, others by effort.

Many women deal with what's called "suitcase weight", the ten or twenty pounds they gain and lose, gain and lose.

The fall-on-a-cake-knife bad news about weight loss from Beck:

- Failure to maintain weight loss is due to alterations in hormone levels which happen for at least a year after losing weight.

- These hormones slow metabolism and increase hunger, so post-loss, you will be hungrier and prone to gaining back what you lost, or even more.

The good news:

- The study was conducted on subjects who were on a very low calorie diet; the results may not be as marked for those undertaking more modest calorie restrictions. (I wonder how they recruited subjects, who only got 500-550 calories a day via Optifast.)

- Another study suggests you may be better off on a diet that combines protein and low-glycemic index (GI) carbs.

As Beck says, it's healthier and less painful to keep pounds from piling on than to lose them and keep them lost.

As for the role of exercise in weight loss, it doesn't help much, as the article "Phys Ed: Why Doesn't Exercise Lead to Weight Loss?" by Tara Parker-Pope in The New York Times explains. But there is good news within this bitter pill, too.

First, there are all the other significant benefits of exercise, the same ones naturally thin people get.

Second, she quotes Dan Carey, Ph.D., a professor of exercise physiology:“'If you work out at an easy intensity, you will burn a higher percentage of fat calories' than if you work out a higher intensity, so you should draw down some of the padding you’ve accumulated on the hips or elsewhere—if you don’t replace all of the calories afterward."

That's the tough part. It's so easy to make an immediate withdrawal from the caloric bank account (After all, I earned it!) and then also float myself a little loan on the Exercise Equity Line of Credit.

My Dad used to tell his patients, "The best exercise you can do is push your plate away after you've eaten a reasonable portion.". As usual, Dad was right.

For an observation about women and their weight through a cultural lens, see "New York Skinny vs Paris Skinny" by Garance Doré, who has gained weight after moving from France to New York, but also is feeling oppressed by the American standard of thinness (at least among her copines.)

Does this outfit make me look like a teacher?

2011-11-08T07:00:00.031-05:00

I was at the nail salon the other day and the manicurist asked me if I was a teacher. "Why?" I asked her. "You look like a teacher", she said, "and you talk like one."

Well! I was rather upset.

I imagined that the manicurist meant a wash n' wear, offend-no-one aura of kindly neatness. A look that is not unfeminine but never interesting. And they speak in complete sentences, with attention to grammar. Is it I to whom you refer?

I have no reason to hold this stereotype.

My teacher friends are unabashed beauties, graceful goddesses, lovely family members. My teacher friend Cathy had (till retirement) the ability to undo from one to three buttons of her Thomas Pink shirts in a split second, as the occasion dictated–and anytime after 4 pm., it was three-button time. And you have met the bombshell Christine aka, the teacher Christine.

Oh god, I thought, I'm slipping into the 60ish semi-retired bog of obdurate sensibility I always dreaded. Is this like the notion that we marry our fathers, or live our parents unlived lives, or some other what-you-want-is-not-what-you-think-you-want theory?

The gateway purchase?

But I am changing. For the first time in my life, in October I read an LL Bean catalog all the way through, not just for the snow boots and adorable dog beds. I looked at the women's clothes and ordered... slippers. But can corduroy big shirt be far behind?

Flee from salon. Paw into closet, risk wreck of mani, pick funkiest pants, leather jacket for dinner at sushi bar with Le Duc. Apply sake to shaky self-image. Decide to buy red lipstick.

Get providentially-timed e-mail from Christine, who comments that my new oxfords in black might have a "grand-maternal vibe". She may be right, but perhaps grandmother offers more scope than teacher? Have nothing against grandmothers either, but start thinking about what to wear with the oxfords.

C. reports just bought Costume National pony skin flats. Graciously responds to plea for photos, showing how she's wearing them:

Hip with red pants

Insouciant with grey tights

Tell her that in the tights, she looks like an elf on absinthe.

I substitute Christine for the teacher in my mistaken mind. Hah! Formulate plan to march her into salon on next visit and introduce my teacher friend.

A flash of annoyance

2011-11-07T08:21:00.000-05:00

I try not to be a 63 year old curmudgeon. I read a few waspish elder's blogs just to make myself feel magnanimous. (No, they are not in my blogroll.) Man, some of them can get their crank on!

One writer griped because she went to Chico's and "the size 0 is nothing like the 0 I know." Chico's do use a sizing system that differs from the 0-16 convention, but the store and website provide a chart explaining it.

Chico's job aid for sizing

I've noticed that as we get older, we tend to complain about what we don't understand.

" 'I don't understand it' is the greatest screen for incompetence", says an old friend, a tech inventor pushing 70. The antidote is simple: stay curious, keep learning. Ask a younger friend to tutor, take a free Apple Store class.

It's natural to gripe, to try to fit the world to our habitual patterns. And when we adopt new behaviours, especially those that involve technology, we might think about the unanticipated results.

Example: people photographing their meals in a restaurant. Not dangerous, like driving while using a cell phone, but intrusive and unpleasant.

You are sitting there, gazing into your companion's eyes or maybe just figuring out what movie to see, and suddenly someone has her butt shoved into your table, photographing her faijitas. Next course, same thing, but now it's dark and she's using her flash. And using it.

Dessert: does not one chocolate mousse look pretty much like another? She takes at least six shots.

If a diner wishes to document a meal, I wish she would so only when tables are well apart, she does not need a flash, and her behind isn't grazing my bread plate. (Is my dining ruining your perspective?)

Is it odd that I don't mind taking a photo for someone nearby? On our last trip, a couple at the next table ordered a classic seafood tower, three magnificent, briny tiers of shellfish. They asked us to take their photo with their treat; I was happy to oblige.

Same with birthdays, friends who want a memory or the serving of something so unusual that you never want to forget what can be done with spun sugar. The spirit of celebration overrides any inconvenience; I want them to have that photo.

While I find the habit of texting at a table even more obnoxious, it is the business of the parties dining together, and does not intrude on my experience. Photos do.

Paris window shopping, Part Two

2011-11-03T07:00:00.017-04:00

Finished your espresso? Let's press on.

If you have sticker shock from clothing prices, accessories are a marvelous way to bring a bit of French style into your life. Sometimes the accessories are very expensive too... but I still have the glacé kid belt bought thirty-two years ago, while the clothes are but a memory.

Exotic bands for your watch

In the window of Atelier Rousseau, watchbands in leather or exotic skins, ready-to-wear or made to measure. Enchanting colours, so much fun to wear. They also make bracelets in snap-band or bangle styles, and meltingly gorgeous belts, wallets or portfolios. (Let's stop in, I'll replace my Hermès croc band, for half the price.)

Necklace, Arthur Aquino's atelier, rue St.-Simon

I can't pass a jeweler's without examining the window. Paris is a overflowing jewel box, but a good deal of the costume stuff is overpriced. For mid-range finds, we have to be patient and look. This necklace of brass with glass 'gems' is in the window of a designer, Arthur Aquino, whose shop in the tiny Rue St.-Simon is a such a piece, at €220.

We will find our treasures by wandering, avoiding the big commercial boulevards and the brand boutiques.

Cadolle's luxurious lingerie

Sigh, the lingerie. Again, the mid-priced is pleasing, but the highest expression reveals (pun intended) just what is possible. Dita Von Teese shops at Cadolle, and we pause at the window to see why.

Sabbia Rosa's silks

And Sabbia Rosa! The window is a kiss of pink silk bra, caress of rose-printed chemise, the most exquisite delights. A silk cami is a good choice; seen on an evening, peeking from your jacket, by more than les intimes. We resolve to at least always match our bras and panties, even if only Wonderbra.

Shaving in style

Which brings us to men (or me, anyway.) Maybe we'll buy a little gift to tuck in our suitcases? Drugstores carry an astonishing assortment of beautiful shaving accessories; here's an array of badger brushes and other manly gear. Or maybe your love would consider your Sabbia Rosa chemise a kind of gift?

LBD in lace

Oh look, a black dress...we have seen many, but this one is lace. And the lace is wool. Arms sheer, body lined. The ruff around the neck is a separate scarf, long wool ringlets in palest grey.

But look, Parisiennes wear colour too; do you prefer the pink velvet jacket or pants? And see the zebra bag at the bottom of the window, with a cyclamen pashmina nestled inside?

How does such a beauty-attuned culture evolve? You start them young. Have you noticed the children we've passed, laughing, hiding behind planters, only to leap out with a "Cou-cou!" when their friends catch up? See the four-year-old girl in a teal sheepskin coat with a fur-trimmed hood, pink and blue striped tights and little pink t-straps?

Tiny, pink, leopard

Mothers buy outfits like this, and kids actually wear them. In certain arondissements, you will notice more sumptuous and lavishly embellished attire on people lower than your waist than on those at eye level.

And so... she grows up to wear this–and not necessarily with a suit, but also with her chunky sweater and jeans:

Hat, Marie Mercié

We are a little footsore, non? And I'd like a rest before dinner. But we've had such a good time together! We must do it again.

Paris window shopping, Part One

2011-11-01T07:00:00.003-04:00

Tie on your walking shoes, and let's do a little window shopping, to absorb some ideas, amble and people-watch.

Price list in window

Paris windows are remarkable not only for the tempting treats, but for the information, too. Le Duc says retail shops are required by law to list prices of goods displayed in windows, and while I saw the occasional transgressor, nearly all windows display cards or little stands, or visible price tags. This is a most welcome feature, and why do hardly any North American shops do it?

Fabulous, but wearable?

The most jaw-dropping designs in a window are at Galliano; say what you will about his behaviour, he has a sense of theatricality few have ever matched... but do you have somewhere to wear this? I don't.

If I had to nominate one company who make clothes that flatter gown women, it would be Episode. This red dress, glimpsed through the door of the flagship store, looks like a classic shift, but it's the softest, supplest red leather, baby!

Wafting from the shop, we hear Nina Simone singing her signature song, "My Baby Just Cares for Me".

Episode fur jacket

Fur is huge, and worked in innovative ways.

This eyelash-effect jacket, thrown casually over a pencil skirt, is actually fox, in pale beige tinged with sky blue. Fur as the lightest fabric, fur that moves with you; also from Episode.

We all know "it's the accessories", but what accessories await us on our walk! A reminder to choose the unusual or pleasing note, especially if you like basics yet want to avoid the predictable.

Look at these brightest blue gloves, with perforated detail on the ruffle, again, Episode.

Beau gants!

Victoire present a richly detailed BoBo look, but also carry immaculate suits and jackets for business wear. The windows are always a symphony of chic; a sporty doudoune (padded jacket) over a floral skirt of fairly heavyweight fabric, accented with a kelly green belt, reminds us to mix more freely.


		Victoire ensemble


Victoire shoes

At the bottom of this window are the most beautiful wearable shoes, for me, in Paris: multicolored wedge heels, with pieced velvet uppers, combining red, pink, moss green. (Plenty of six-inch stiletto stunners all over, but these I could see wearing to a holiday party without needing surgery the next day.)

Time for lunch; let's stop for a tartine and glass of Samur, an espresso– and maybe we cannot resist a salted caramel éclair.

Part Two appears on Thursday.

Paris shopping: Daniele's style

2011-10-27T07:00:00.077-04:00

Daniele

My other Parisienne girlfriend, Daniele, was not able to shop because she is recovering from a hip replacement, so we discussed clothes over drinks in her apartment, then walked slowly to dinner.

Though close in age, and also born and reared in Paris, she's an entirely different type from Huguette. Unlike her, Daniele cares little about how hot a boutique is. And also, she has had a family, with those expenses to think about. One of her favourite pieces, a black velvet jacket, is at least a decade old.

She wears neutrals, black and grey in winter, ecru in summer, sometimes lit by scarves, which are also on the quiet side. (I have not seen her in a bright-coloured item in 25 years.) When visiting Canada, she likes to shop for Ralph Lauren and is not averse to trolling Winners (our off-price chain) with her daughters to pick up summer vacation wear.

This retiree spends fall in jeans or a pencil skirt and sweaters, which she accessorizes with a black calf Hermès Kelly bag, gold hoops and the chain in the picture, to which she sometimes adds her mother's wedding ring.

I asked Daniele what she chooses these days and she pointed to the Rodier ensemble below, shown in a window we passed, as an example.

Rodier's torsade sweater

Paris was brimming with exquisite clothes, but neither of us seek the highest end. Daniele will spend for that special piece, like this sweater by Pôles, a luxe knitwear boutique that she admires.

Pôles sweater and scarf

Paris offers an almost unimaginable array for every sensibility, but you still have to scout to find that sweet spot of stylish, affordable clothes that look good on a grown-up.

One possibility is Cyrillus, a French chain somewhat like Boden, offering decent-quality clothes that are current, with some pieces up to French 46. Skirts are short and some items too junior-y, but for a tee or sweater, worth checking. (Grandparent alert: adorable kids' clothes.)

Cyrillus tee

I bought this striped long-sleeved fine cotton tee, about $50. Along with two house-label Bon Marché merino v-necks at about $80 each, this is indeed "bon marché"– a good deal.

This invisibly-seamed wool coat looked good, too. (Price, about $380.)

Cyrillus wool/angora coat

As for the much-vaunted Monoprix, I'm not a fan of the apparel. On a quick stop-in, we found the season's clothes ill-cut and made. Why buy a $15 tee that looks like you're wearing a laundry bag? Good for cosmetics and household basics, though.

One last observation: French women are far less matchy then North Americans, and this is a major contributor to how they get so much mileage from their wardrobes. You will see a loden skirt, purple sweater and perhaps greeny-gray tights worn with charcoal shoes, accessorized with a brown bag.

At the restaurant I could not take my eyes off a woman well into her 70s, in a marinière. The ground was cream, the stripes were navy sequins. She had a very pale blonde chin-length bob that was being affectionately ruffled by a man and a warm, fuchsia-lipped smile.

Le Duc wore one daily in Paris, his is pink and navy, but not sequined.

Hey, sailor!

We bid Daniele and her partner Michel good night, and I realized that her wardrobe has not changed much since we met 25 years ago.

For awhile she wore leggings with dress-length tops, and of course she refreshes her wardrobe, but despite the most minimal change she always looks entirely contemporary. This resistance to style-hopping and following trends returns value. It is a different look than Huguette's, but should they ever meet, I think each would admire the other's style.

Alors, bag reveal! I bought the "Retro Lalique" by Cuir et Terre, a small, artisanal company. Satchel-sized, no logo, quirky and sturdy, and neutral enough to wear with everything. Shown in green; mine is chocolate.

Regardless of budget, it builds the eye to look, so next week, some outstanding windows to lick virtually.

Paris shopping: Huguette's style

2011-10-25T07:00:00.007-04:00

Jetlagged, writing at 4 am., only too happy to proffer a shopping report for the first of four Paris-related posts this week and next.

Huguette

This is my longtime friend Huguette, a style-devoted, 64-year-old professional who spends "way-way too much" on clothes and has maintained a consistent, slim figure for the thirty years I've known her.

She's funny, talks a mile a minute, and is the firm possessor of a certain, confident style.

We met for lunch in the 6th, with shopping to follow. She wore a strict black skirt, a pink/red/green floral Ventilo chiffon blouse, a dove grey fine cashmere cardi and a khaki cotton topper in that nothing-coordinates-but-everything-works French way.

Influenced by her skirt, I led her to a temple of strict, Anne Willi, certain that the discreet yet graceful styles would enthrall her. She would not cross the doorstep, murmuring only, "I see belts are back again". Well, you can't out-Parisienne Huguette, so I fell in beside her, asking to be taken to her favourite places.

Anne Willi dress

She trotted briskly into Cotélac. I cast a look; my Mutton Alarm blared, and I hissed "Huguette! There is nothing here for us!" But H. was engrossed, purring "Marrant!", which means funny, as in odd or amusing.

Little flippy skirt, blue mohair sweater

Where I've grown simpler and more conventional (and yes, heavier) than when we were hanging out in the '80s, Huguette has embraced the flirty and dares to dress young. And I say, with some envy, she can carry it off.

She bought the blue print skirt you can just make out on my blurry phone photo and a cobwebby navy mohair pull, a piece that looked like many stitches had been dropped, on purpose... or not. Marrant.

She would have bought this dress (at left) to wear over slim pants, but it wasn't there in her size. (My mind shrieked, This is way too young, but that's my taste.)

She eyed Clergerie platform loafers, tagged for the next paycheque.

But all is not milk and honey, chiffon and flower-prints for 60+ Parisiennes.

When I told her I'd given up finding clothes in Paris to fit my size, she said, "Same for my friends! We cannot find dresses long enough, and we can't get tops with long sleeves. We want to cover our arms and everything is cap sleeves or sleeveless. We are desperate."

On another day, I had a delightful, sympatico lunch with lovely blogger Tish Jett of A Femme d'un Certain Age, who is tall like me, and she said she orders pants from the US. You have to, if you are not built with the short French rise.

On other days, without Huguette teasing me about my "comfortable-Canadian choices", I made several purchases:

1. An ingeniously-cut chartreuse boiled-wool jacket by Oska, the German brand that sizes from 2 to at least 18. Shown in coral; mine is chartreuse. (You can't really see the side peplum, which gives it shape.) I wore this most days, since my trusty padded black nylon jacket proved impossibly non-breathable after ten minutes' brisk walking in unexpected 19C/66F temperatures.

Boiled wool jacket

2. A pair of Accessoire oxfords. Tish and I, the same shoe size (separated at birth?) rejoiced that a new generation of French women have pushed the size range up to 41.

Strict oxfords

3. A bag I'll show Thursday.

Crea Concept skirt

I almost bought this Crea Concept draped skirt, but realized that it would be like wearing a slip (even with tights) in a Montreal winter. Huguette called Crea Concept terne (drab), and the store, filled with dun-coloured clothes, partly reinforced her charge, though there were some appealing pieces, especially if mixed with other maker's designs.

Huguette and I traded appraising comments, the kind of things only old friends can venture. I wondered if she was trying to hang onto a youth that will become increasingly distant. She said I should try more daring pieces, reminding me of the Mugler and Kenzo I once wore. I'm certain a few choices I made after our outing were a little more audacious because of her.

Thursday, the style choices of another French friend, Daniele.

Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Friday morning

2011-10-21T04:50:00.000-04:00

Just to say hi and breathlessly announce some style news from Paris: it's now OK to wear nude stockings. Really. You can see that little telltale crease on many carefully-shod insteps. (Of course if you are under 30 you are bare-legged till snow drifts.)

Even what we ungenerously called "cheaters" in high school, the knee-high version, seem to be acceptable with one's ballerines and loafers. Not that I have pulled up any Parisienne's pantalons to check, but I have my suspicions.

At 12C/32F, Parisiennes break out the parkas and duffles, heavy boots, bulky-knit scarves, even furs. They look bundled to us, as we walk comfortably in light jackets or a sweater.

Paris, as ever, gleams and drifts, winds and tempts. I'll report more next week, but today, a last long stroll in the brilliant, honeyed sunlight, a farewell blast of diesel, the seductive sillage of perfumes, peen-pong of sirens.

à bientôt!

Retirement move as travel alternative

2011-10-06T07:00:00.173-04:00

Is home still sweet?

A dear friend visited. Newly retired, she's trying to determine whether her retirement income will accommodate her passion for travel.

She and her partner, childless, have a four-bedroom house, two cars. Over a glass of rosé, we discussed whether that setup would make sense when he retires this winter.

She wondered, How can we trim our expenses to afford more trips? What about home exchanges?

I mentioned newly-retired friends who, like her, looked warily at the ever-rising costs of travel. Others are concerned about the environmental effects of tourism. A number of these people have said, "Instead of costly occasional trips, I want to live somewhere that lifts me up every day."

This is an option for those not required to stay in their former locations for work or family reasons. These friends are avid travelers, but don't have limitless funds. Some of their moves:

Swedish cottage

- Toewe downsized from her large Stockholm apartment to a small one, then built a tiny, simple, energy-efficient cottage in the Swedish countryside, where she lives from spring through fall. (She sublets the apartment.)

- Pat and Vicky are selling their townhouse in Toronto and moving to Palawan Bay, Philippines as permanent residents.

- Krista and Martin sold a house in Ottawa and moved to the Kootenay region of British Columbia, to hike and ski to their heart's content. They rent for the time being. This location is also closer to their child and his family.

Travel is a splendid and edifying adventure, but it is also a consumable, something the safari ad does not point out, but your Visa bill will.

My in-laws took another route; they sold the family home twenty-five years ago, took early retirement, bought an RV, and hit the road for sixteen years, fusing their home with travel. Now in their eighties, they have traded the RV for an apartment and road trips. My MIL recently said those sixteen years were the best of her life.

There are drawbacks to the strategy: cost and labour of a major move, adaptation to a different climate, culture or language, availability of services, especially health care.

Partners might find it tough to reach agreement on 'the right place'. Maybe your first choice will turn out to be too expensive or impractical. But before you think "Oh no, I (or we) couldn't", keep an open mind.

It's never too early to start your research. When I began this blog over three years ago, a move was not on the radar. Now, here we are in Montreal, a year after we decided to start looking. That was fairly fast; Pat and Vicky are in year four of the Philippines move, ETA January 2012.

You might opt for a full move or divide your time initially, but given that the major expense categories for seniors are housing and transportation, if you can find a permanent setting that delights you, aim for that.

Of course I'm biased; we are thrilled with our choice. Not all retirement moves work out; perhaps you have stories of some that didn't.

But if you're intrigued, why not consider, calculate and investigate? Sometimes, the best room with a view is your own.

En vacances

Time to be inspired by the real
passages of Paris
and take a much-needed rest;

Pdesp closes
the weeks of Oct. 10 and 17.

Thank you for stopping by.

See you Tuesday, October 25.

Sidestepping trends

2011-10-04T07:00:00.207-04:00

Transparent skirt

There is precisely one trend I've never worn before, the transparent skirt or dress (black) seen everywhere this summer/fall on lithe young maidens, who wear it over leggings or bike shorts and a bra (all also black) underneath. Nor will I wear it, in this life.

But tartan, capes, Harris tweed, structured bags? Not only have I worn it the first time around, honey, I'm on the third or fourth spin. This is ground for some big mistakes.

Here, for example, is one I almost made: the hacking jacket. A "trend" again, this version is on offer at J. Crew.

No longer me: J. Crew jacket

When I was thirty, I bought one in Dublin, in colours of peat and sea. But the jacket wouldn't work now, even though I'd like another go.

What looked good once (and was such a versatile piece) no longer does. With a pang, I let my eye catch up with my shape.

Instead, I'll get a knit jacket, like those shown here, or a second colour in this, which I've worn often for the last three years.

Eric Bompard shirt-jacket

So what are you going to do if you're middle aged (or better) and don't want to look like you haven't seen the inside of a boutique since pantyhose were invented?

Subvert the trend treadmill with smashing shoes! For my money, I'd rather buy one pair than a draggy maxi coat (honk if you had one in the '70s).

The winter range from Accessoire Diffusion could break from my flats habit. Below, three standouts that I'll check out in Paris next week.

A fantastic colour, called "Baltic"

Perforated detail, graceful line


Snuggly, stylish bootlet

And I must show you one from Michel Perry's fall line, a shoe-example of my point. Ah, platform spectators: a fond, towering memory, an especially stylish revival, and a trend I won't revisit.

...or find a bag!

Have your ever set out search of a shoe and come home with a bag? Could happen with this Vivienne Westwood Vienna Show Saddle Bag, £570 from Liberty, which I'd carry till it shreds.

Vivienne Westwood saddle bag

I'm leery when I hear "This is really in right now." If we were given more wearable, beautiful choices, offered in the full range of sizes, designers would have our business without resorting to the fakery and hype of trends.

PS. To the many readers who expressed such kind concern about our son, Jules:

He's doing well. When I referred to what's happened as "a setback", he firmly corrected me: "No, it's a hairpin turn." We are most grateful for your wishes and comments.

Men who don't dance and the women who love them

2011-09-29T07:00:00.001-04:00

A friend, here under the protection of the name "Moira", sent an e-mail recently, describing a party at which her sixtyish husband, whom I'll call "Jack" danced.

This was a remarkable event; in their long marriage he neither danced nor expressed any desire to do so. But for some reason, at this party, he shed his inhibitions and shook his groove thang. He had a terrific time, though the future is still unclear.

If you love to dance and if your partner does not, you spend a life dancing with your girlfriends, their brothers or just yourself. I can relate: Le Duc will dance at a party or wedding, but the term "go dancing" is as attractive to him as "skin endangered Himalayan snow leopards".

I asked him why so many men do not like to dance. His answer was immediate: "They fear losing their dignity and looking incompetent."

Some persons have an innate musicality that they enjoy expressing through movement, and others do not. Just like athletic skill, movement is a talent; everyone has some, but great dancers have an easy grace. Men do not seem to realize they don't have to be great, we just wanna dance.

Alcohol played a part in Jack's deliverance unto the beat. A few belts does loosen up a wallflower, but is not essential. What the male needs is the required mental shift, the moment where he decides, Hey, this might be fun.

Jack, a dear and deep uber-WASP, seemed to think dancing is not quite manly. I reminded Moira that, in many cultures and religious traditions, males dance with pride and virility. But once frat days are over, this is not the case for WASP guys. You find a few men who cannot wait for the music to start, but the majority head for the patio, hoping someone else, anyone else, will ask their partners to dance.

Le Duc had his own deliverance at a salsa club. He watched men of all ages and abilities deeply enjoying themselves. He noticed a young buck of twenty-two come into the club with a backpack, set it carefully at the edge of the floor, seize a partner and execute a joyful mambo with that At Last! look on his face. He caught the endorphin-lit bliss of a rotund, suave 60-year-old in a guyabera.

And lo, Le Duc said, "I want to take salsa lessons."

When men (or women, but I don't know any) refuse to dance, they miss out on a joyful, community-building, sensual, playful and stress-reducing activity.

Let's encourage boys and young men to dance! Square dances, raves, drum circles, ballroom competitions, jumping around the kitchen to Odd Future: whatever works. We can stress the athletic element, if they prefer that. But if boys don't move rhythmically, men don't dance.

We won't scare them with codified rituals and formality unless they seek that level of refinement. But let's not let them sit this one out.

Life is to short not to dance through it, even if you're a guy.

Petite pearls

2011-09-27T07:00:00.013-04:00

Photo: AmericanPearl.com

I'm a 9mm (and up) pearl lover, and if there is one pearl sin I see consistently it is those damn debutante babyteeth on grown women. ("Debutante" means "beginner" in French.)

But.

Some women are petite, some want other elements of a piece to shine, and some feel that a leap to mega-millimeter size is just too much.

When Christine bought this 2mm pearl-sprinkled garland, I agreed instantly that it was perfect. Yes, there is a place for petite pearls.

Petite pearl garland

Size is no sin in human or oyster; it's what you do with it. The pearl trick is, go decidedly, delicately small. Small is an excellent choice in three applications:

1. Used as multi-strand necklaces.

Grey torsade

Ross Simons sell a seven-strand 4.0-4.5mm grey pearl torsade with a silver hook clasp; price, $95 for 16, 18 or 20 inches. With a shirt and pair of jeans you have a striking pearl accessory for likely less than the price of your pants.

Gump's pretty pastels, to twist or knot at whim. Seventy-two inches of 5-5.5mm freshwater pearls; price, $500. (Gump's pearls are pricey, but there are sales, and the quality is high.)

Gump's pastel mix

2. Used in a piece of delicacy and discreet charm.

There is no lovelier example than BeladoraII's freshwater pearl and diamond lariat, with tiny pearls threading through a white gold and diamond circle. Price $495–and I could not imagine a more rafinée accent for a neck.

BeladoraII pearl and diamond lariat

deserttalisman ivory and pearl necklace

Hello, modern-jewelry lovers! A fossilized ivory shard hanging on a 'chain' of bronze seed and button pearls is fine, yet earthy. The price is $227 from etsy seller deserttalismans.

3. When small pearls suit you.

Petite, slim, fine-boned women can carry delicate pearls (but can also stun in a substantial strand of Tahitians). One of my summer visitors was such a woman, and it is she I thought of when I found the piece below.

Cathy Waterman 2mm pearl rope

This 2mm white freshwater pearl necklace is delicacy pearl-sonified; a petite woman will twist this around her long neck and look sublime. She might also layer it; the 22k toggle closure elevates the pearlettes from ordinary to elegant. Made by Cathy Waterman. Length, 32 inches; price, $988 from Twist.

Caveat: A strand too small is no strand at all.

If buying a classic round strand, size does count. So that you can judge for yourself, here is a series of photos from American Pearl. The first shows small, 5.5-6mm pearls.

5.5-6mm

See how girlish and lost those pearls look? And the model is young. I have ideas for remodeling a strand like this here.

Let's move up to 7.5mm-8mm. This is the minimum size for a woman who no longer wants "jeune fille" jewelry, regardless of her size or shape.

7.5-8mm

And now to the 9.5mm-10mm., my preferred size, but then, I am tall and large. They are admittedly more costly, but you can wear the right size forever; too-small is a false economy.

9.5-10mm

Every 2mm adds a doubling effect to the visual sense of size. You'll see more glow, more of the mysterious essence of the pearl with each 2mm jump; even a 1.5 mm increase will look much bigger.

Petite pearls flirt, big pearls seduce. In-between pearls are nostalgic souvenirs that beg for restyling, and will then delight you all over again.

Small pearls restyled to bracelet

One of my favourite ways to restyle a necklace: convert to a bracelet.

Shown, a bracelet from Kojima Company, of 7mm akoyas (often the size and type of the "wedding dress necklace"), styled with one blue 9mm pearl and a modern 'bean' clasp. Price, $270.

Why not retain the sentiment, wear the pearls and have a new piece, all for a modest investment?

Luxury and simplicity: Epicureus, Lucretius, Greenblatt

2011-09-22T07:00:00.012-04:00

I devoured Stephen Greenblatt's essay about the Roman poet Lucretius' (Titus Lucretius Carus) master work, "On the Nature of Things", published in the New Yorker's August 8 issue.

The piece interweaves the transformational effect of the two thousand year old poem, its rediscovery by Poggio Bracciolini in 1417, Greenblatt's fraught family history and the significance of the poem for him.

Lucretius was influenced by the Greek philosopher Epicurus (341 BCE-270 BCE); his "celebration of pleasure" alarmed the Church, who fought back with invented rumours of his debauchery. (Down and dirty ain't nothin' new.)

This is the man whom we invoke when we use the adjective epicurean, a synonym for bon vivant. The philosophy went deeper, which is why it alarmed clerics; it rejected mysticism and immortality. Epicureanism differs from hedonism, though, with its emphasis on a simple, nearly ascetic life.

"It is impossible to live pleasurably" wrote one of Epicurus' disciples, "without living prudently and honorably and justly, and also without living courageously and temperately and magnanimously, and without making friends, and without being philanthropic."

Greenblatt says, "This philosophy of pleasure, at once passionate, scientific and visionary, radiated from almost every line of Lucretius' poetry."

Ah, I thought, re-reading those lines several times, that's why a bowl of raspberrries with cream is such a joy after a long winter, why stacks of bags are no more satisfying than the right single satchel, why a donation to a good cause sounds a more resonant note than the tinkle of a trinket.

Stephen Greenblatt
(Photo by Stephanie Morris/Harvard News Office)

To read Greenblatt's essay online, you'll need a New Yorker subscription, but for free, there's this summary in Harvard Magazine.

You can, however, watch episodes of the award-winning CBC documentary television series, hosted by David Suzuki, "The Nature of Things", which takes its title from the poem, by visiting the program's site, here.

Project Gutenberg have issued a free e-copy of Lucretius' poem here. Lost for centuries, then rediscovered, the work was formative to the art-and-science absorbed Renaissance, and invited an entirely different way of relating to the universe and its material representation.

Once again, the philosophers provide edification and illumination–and even encouragement for an ice cream cone.

When dreams derail

2011-09-20T07:00:00.052-04:00

Stunned, worried, hopeful

I've occasionally mentioned my twin sons; Etienne lives in Montreal. Jules was set to leave this week for Royal Canadian Navy basic training, a dream he had pursued for well over a year, waiting to be offered the right position, one with scope and a future.

His dream ended several days ago, when a detailed physical revealed a rare heart disease, hypertropic cardiomyopathy, or HCM.

It is often the cause of the sudden collapse of seemingly healthy young men, typically during athletic activity. He had no symptoms and was always a healthy kid.

Resilient, determined, mournful

Despite the setback, there are bright spots: Jules has retained his job, can continue to board in a friend's beautiful, peaceful house and is already pondering "Plan B". He's resilient and focused, and a normal (civilian) life is definitely possible.

We are grateful that HCM was found; it is not usually investigated in routine physicals. It is genetically inherited, but no one knew of any familial history. His brother will be tested.

Jules will learn how to live with his wonky heart; we hold our breaths and do what we can as he regains his equanimity and spirit.

I can't wait to see him this weekend, to hug him and applaud his determination. His heart may not be healthy enough for the military, but it is more than perfect to me.

Safe or Smokin': Jackets for fall

2011-09-15T07:00:00.044-04:00

Elizabeth & James man-tailored jacket from Saks

We know the Safe Jacket, wardrobe stalwart, work staple, dependable travel companion. I once deplaned from a business meeting to find the overhead bin stuffed with four identical black man-tailored jackets. I found mine by the label. That's when I decided to forsake conventional blazers.

I'm shopping for a jacket, and am not a woman who can pull off Ines de la Fressange's trick of buying a blazer two sizes too small to make it "cuter". I'd estimate the percentage of Passage readers who can do so is lower than my milk-fat choice.

So let's look at some jackets that avoid the safe, man-clone look. Some price points are high, but we will consider them so that we can apply the three guidelines that signal a smokin' jacket, whatever our budget.

1. Look for an element of surprise.

Don't you tire of the sea of collar-and-lapel cuts on offer? I would like to avoid that convention altogether.

Isaac Mizrahi wool bow jacket, $2,277 from Saks. The front is strict; then she turns.

KaufmanFranco leather and knit

KaufmanFranco's jacket, with a knit body and leather sleeves smokes superlatively! The merino/baby alpaca is going to feel fantastic. But all that style and sass comes at a price: $1,695 at Neiman Marcus.

Carven blazer

When I found this, I swooned, sighed, murmured "Frrrrench". Carven have gentled classic tailoring while keeping the impeccable line, all in soft taupe. The pocketed wool flannel blazer is $800 at net-a-porter.

2. Find a lush colour

Colour adds life and richness to the classic blazer body; the art is finding a shade so unexpected that you can use it like a neutral.

Boden offer a velvet blazer, one of my all-time beloved items, in a range of patterns and colours, including leopard and tiger but not a very subtle leopard or tiger. I'd look like a plush toy.

My favourite is the vibrant mallard. (I have avoided Boden for years because of their exorbitant shipping rates and iffy quality, but a friend says they have improved.) Price, £75.

Boden velvet blazer

J. Crew velvet schoolboy

J. Crew's velvet schoolboy blazer comes in tantalizing colours, including this dark blossom, and the moody olive moss; price, $168.

3. Catch a weave

A knit jacket fills the need for polish, with the bonus of comfort and packability. Maybe, I thought, after unbuttoning endless stretch wool fabrics, I need a knit.

Rachel Comey knit

Rachel Comey Fair-Isle knit jacket, $380. Defined shoulders and a belt elevate this from being just-a-sweater, and the pattern will work with any neutral.

Boden's Barcelona jacket, shown here in fig melange, has the sophistication to skip from jeans to workday. Price, £89.

Goat Langley Knitted Jacket in petrol shows the detail I would expect when investing €465. Worn with soft pants or a skirt, this smokes in a most rafinée manner. Also available in rose; at Stylebop.com.

So far, I'm still looking, but swaying toward soft, no collar or lapel unless it's one of those intense velvets. You can't have smokin' without some heat!

Glenn and Meryl play uncommon women

2011-09-13T07:00:00.059-04:00

As usual, I like to check out all the stars in Toronto for the Toronto International Film Festival, even though I no longer live there.

Why, I figure, post photos of young starlets? You can find daily photos of these beauties here.

I'm more interested in someone close to my age, pun intended. Glenn Close is in town to premiere the drama "Albert Nobbs", in which she plays a woman who masquerades as a butler amid the social constraints of 19th century Dublin.

Here is Close in role; her strong bones and actor's skill make her quite convincing until...no, let's wait for the film. Rumour mill rumble is that Close wants an Oscar but the film is not strong enough.

Another acclaimed shape-shifter, Meryl Streep, chose London to premiere her new Margaret Thatcher biopic, "The Iron Lady" as a charity event for Women for Women International. The film will be released in January 2012, in time for Oscar season.

Photos courtesy of Movieweb.com

Now here is a power dresser. Check this teaser, in which Tory advisors meddle with a young Margaret's image and provoke what will be, I predict, the immortal line: "Pearls, however, are absolutely non-negotiable."

Though separated by time and class, each characters assumed unflagging control of image as type of armor.

Their looks are not strictly historic. On the local streets, I sometimes see women who choose the masculine look (not just a menswear piece, the entire ensemble and grooming), and more often, I see an every-cell-in-place Thatcher lineage.

In the blogworld, we talk about the pieces that make us feel invincible, our "power" or "hero" pieces. We share some slight affinity with these two women, whether we admire them or not. We have learned to temper that rigour with ease; perhaps we have less at stake.

I'm eager to see both films. With Close, I'll await the scene where her identity is revealed, to see the feminine meld with the masculine. When I watch Streep as Thatcher, I'll want to muss her hair and grab a metal detector to try to find her heart.

Shopping with hot chicks

2011-09-08T07:00:00.012-04:00

I was visited over the summer by a stream of women friends. Each wanted to do what any red-blooded female visiting a new city wants: shop.

And each, to a head-turning degree, is beautiful, in ways ranging from serene propriety to va-voom. But what united them beyond their loveliness and shopping stamina is that each (save one) mentioned that she had some flaw that is best hidden.

So in 30C weather we had the resolutely covered upper arm, the long pants hiding "chubby knees". I sat in a café with a Stephanie, a Viennese woman who would not unbutton her high-necked black blouse because "my collarbones are not my best feature", while sweat dripped off her forehead.

One visitor called this her "vanity", which everyone possesses. And how about cutting ourselves some slack?

Do we really think some nameless person is going to say to his partner after work, "Do you know what I saw today? A woman with some padding on the inside of her knee!"

Well, to hell with that, especially when it's so hot the air ripples off the pavement. Besides, I like a little unstudied defiance, some tumble in a woman's rumble. I'm thinking of my friend Vicky's friend M., whom I last saw in a tight knit sheath that showed age 50+ bumps and rolls, eschewing a layer of nonbreathable binding but wearing a gumball strand of multicoloured Tahitian pearls, wafting perfume, eight shades of blonde-grey-whatever hair falling in a soft wave over one eye.

She is far more alluring to me than a perfectly coiffed and shapewear-packaged sister.

Doing my part to promote such imperfection, I trudged through the stickiness in a sleeveless dress or tank top, focused not on the heat, but on the warmth of these interesting, convivial companions.

Christine's new pearls

What did they buy? Each sought treasure not found at home and knew what was perfect for her.

Rubi's tote

"Rubiatonta" found a chic black Bree tote bag; Christine chose an ethereal silver and grey pearl necklace (worn, above, with her Eric Bompard embroidered blouse) and retro-inspired silver flower brooch at Argent Tonic.

One of Jan's skirts

Jan got two sexy secretary skirts at Muse that show off her movie-star legs; Stephanie went back to Austria with more black: a long jersey skirt by Marie St. Pierre. Kari fell hard for this pair of caramel Fluevog equestrienne boots.

Kari's Fluevog boots

Local shopping–a welcome change from chain outlets–expands the eye and provides a delightful souvenir. And for me, an opportunity to indulge in a favourite activity: helping women find useful, beautiful things.

Two divas in one day

2011-09-06T07:00:00.007-04:00

Diva #1

On a perfect August day, I basked in the presence of two divas.

The first was a longtime friend, Dorothy, who sent me an e-mail after finding some letters I'd written over 20 years ago. We had not been in touch for years; the exigencies of family and business, plus distance between my former city and hers had deep-stored a fond friendship.

Dorth is a "diva" not because of any imperious star behaviour, but because of her accomplishments, which include three books and numerous publications, and an acclaimed consulting practice, all accomplished while rearing two vibrant children.

There we sat, surveying one another on a terrasse, 30 years since we last had that luxury. We looked older (neither of us has undertaken injections, etc.), but as we talked—a flood of stories, memories and gossip—she looked more radiant by the minute. I saw once again the 20-something firebrand who kick-started her monster Honda bike and flew past any barrier that prevented her from fully living.

Diva #2

The second diva of the day was one in the literal sense, a "celebrated female singer": Brazilian soprano Luisa Kurtz Dos Santos, for the opera "Rigoletto" was performed that evening below our window, staged on the final night of Montreal's Italian Festival.

Lightening flashed to the west, the orchestra swelled and a crowd of all ages was engrossed by the tale of 15th century honour, deception and revenge.

Rigoletto's bravura aria, a tour de force for tenors, is the Duke's cynical La donna è mobile (Woman is fickle). I looked for the translation:

This woman is flighty
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes in voice—and in thought.

But my friend had not changed "in voice and thought"; she had only become more forthright, funny and searching. "You remember everything I ever said to you!" she exclaimed. But that is because her observations and adventures, thirty years ago, were remarkable.

Our reunion was initiated by those old letters; in those days people wrote, their friends sometimes saved the letters. Would old e-mails have reunited us? I doubt it. I'm grateful Dorothy made the 2-hour trip to spend the afternoon, and won't let the years separate us so again.

Have you rediscovered an old friend? What was it like?

La rentrée in the Passage

2011-09-01T07:00:00.157-04:00

Each August, when I don't blog, I consider September: what inspires, provokes, interests me? In the first year or so, a flurry of opinions (for I'm never short) kept posts about dresses or earrings flowing.

Going on four years later, I'm not so avid about things. My life has changed, from flat-out work to relatively retired, from owning a big house to living in a smaller condo. I buy much less, don't read loot blogs and am reluctant to post my own possessions.

I am interested in value, in hearing about the things you've chosen, and showing some suggestions, so that what we buy serves us well and long. The word 'trend" makes me faintly suspicious. For fall, a quiet navy cashmere jacket appeals more than a wild fur chubby.

In August, I read Cathy Horyn's NY Times piece on "The Five Things You Need for Fall". I hoped to be edified but emerged vexed; her list is "what fashion editors are ordering". I could get behind a few selections (black turtleneck, python boots), but unable to pre-order at Balenciaga (or just order, for that matter), I was hoping for ideas for smaller budgets and bigger figures.

To give Horyn praise where it's due, I am mad for this pick, the Philip Lim leather-sleeved top. Oh yeah, sold out everywhere.

I'll post twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday, in order to devote time to other projects, with a focus on "the Three P's":

- Products: an emphasis on quality and value for clothes, accessories and jewelry;

- Pearls: these, the only gem made from a living creature, continue to delight;

- Perspectives: our behaviour, singly and jointly, issues and quandries. On my short list: solitude, friendship, the challenge of becoming an elder and the life-long duality of frugality and pleasure.

The blog is addressed to women over 50, by one of 63 interested in celebrating age, rather than worrying about not looking it. Its patron saints are Molly Ivins and June Callwood, for their humanity and intelligence.

Callwood once said, in a fashion feature, "I can't buy cheap clothes; as I get older, I expect to get poorer." That's classic Callwood, pointing out the social realities while modeling a chic suit.

A peek in the Passage's fall windows

Here are a few value-worthy picks for the rentrée; what are yours?

In August, absent from a screen most of the time, I was able to read for hours. I especially enjoyed Sarah Mazza's "Violette Nozière", a crime memoir and social history of 1930s Paris. Apt, then, to present a decidedly deco accessory, Eric Bompard's 1930's headband. I suspect it might not suit me when I try it on in Paris next month, but for those of you whom it would, I'd grab one. Hand-washable, cozy and insouciant. Price, €39.

Horyn digs YSL's metal choker, but if you'd like a slightly less bold chain for less than $1,600 (and I would not want their billboard of a two-inch logo'd clasp, either), how about Alex Bittar's silver and crystal link necklace, $195 at Twist?

Danier make this... thing. Is it a scarf? Stole? Vest? They call their supple swath the Awi suede scarf vest. Over a simple v-neck, the piece makes an arresting accessory at any age, but is especially great on a grown woman. Part of Danier's new collaboration with designers Greta Constantine; if you want one, act fast.

Python: Very big for fall and, like a glass of chablis, always a grace note. You could invest thousands, but here's a way to flash it for less: BCBGMaxAzria's python box clutch is a discreet fake, more durable than the sensitive snake–and on sale at Zappo's for $82. Size is a handy 8 in. x 5 in., with a removable shoulder chain, and the black/camel colourway goes with everything.

If you are willing to put a little more skin in the game, Carlos Falchi's python clutch is real, and the bag is lined in suede. Price, $545 at Bloomingdale's.

And the pearls: Dana Kellin blue-green 8mm pearl earrings set with crystals offer shimmery allure for $242. (I will not recommend soulless fake pearls, when genuine ones are available so reasonably.) These are a luxury for some, a bagatelle for others. So be it; they are worth the price.

That's the Passage for you; welcome back!

"So, how is it there?"

2011-07-28T07:00:00.047-04:00

Montreal staircase in the Plateau

This is the question I'm asked by everyone, from close friends to Dave the Mac tech.

I've held off writing about Montreal, aware that my observations will be those of an impressionable newcomer. But... I love this city.

Le Duc had lunch with a colleague who has recently moved back from Toronto, and Olivier nailed the difference: "It is at once more dynamic and more laid-back", he said.

Charming bike panniers

The dynamism does not refer to the business dealings of the respective cities, but to the rhythm of human interaction, most noticeably on display via summer street life. The three colours of winter (grey, black, white) give way to bright skirts, mounds of market produce or accessories like commenter lagatta's flowered panniers.

The laid-back sense comes from the noticeably longer time people take to acknowledge and transact everyday tasks. It's the half-beat, the half-minute or half-hour, depending what's happening, that allows some breath and human contact.

A place for us

One film solidified what I was looking for with this move, Louis Malle's documentary, "Place de la République", in which he deftly captured the essence of an atmospheric but populaire part of Paris.

His film became my playbook. I knew, at 62, that I wanted to live–and would need to live–in a neighbourhood with life and colour, with a square in which to sit and a bus stop at my door.

Scene from "Place de la République"

My father, a native Chicagoan, always said "When I get old, I'm going to live on State Street." By moving to a lively neighbourhood in the midst of a culture unique to North America, I've achieved his wish, which is also ours.

The bakeries!

Navarino bakery; photo by C. DeWolf

This is the City of Bakeries: from ethereal mille-feuille to hearty olive bread, bagels to cannoli; it's all here, vast, varied and fresh.

A bakery is a metaphor for the city, yeasty, open late, always beckoning, sometimes decadent.

Christopher DeWolf's photo of Navarino Bakery says "Montreal", with its French signage, bike at the curb and welcoming wide windows. (The photo was retrieved from his compelling blog about cities, Urban Photo.)

Photo by Christopher DeWolf

I have not set foot in a mall. (For those who like them, there are plenty, including about 25km of connected underground territory in the centre of downtown.)

There is a deep sense of neighbourhood, with local businesses doing okay, if not achieving prosperity, in sections of the city that have seen worse times.

I miss our friends in my old city, but have been delighted to meet what my mother used to call "shirttail relatives"–second cousins and such–of Le Duc's here, and my Toronto friends have graciously introduced me to their Montreal friends.

I'm eagerly awaiting lunch tomorrow with bloggoddess Rubiatonta, visiting Montreal for a few days. Wonder what we'll get up to!

August Holidays

Passage des perles closes today for the month of August, as usual.

See you on Sept.1 with more style, culture and life. I wish you a glorious, sweet August, wherever you may be.

I leave you with Jean Leloup's infectious Franglish tune, "I Lost My Baby". You might get it out of your head by the time the Passage re-opens!

Over 80 and beautiful

2011-07-27T07:00:00.041-04:00

That phrase was never an oxymoron, but lately I am noticing ever more beautiful elders.

This one I've even met: she's Kay, mother of my dear friend Susan. Is she not a goddess? Let's parse her style so we can emulate it: everything she's wearing could be worn by her daughter, also a beauty. There's no "little old lady" insipid pastels, no jewelry acquired before cars had seatbelts, no orthopedic shoes.

Best of all, that smile, and a presence suffused by joie de vivre.

Kay, age 89

Kay's ensemble is absolutely of the minute; I think that's the key to her chic.

The entire ensemble


Now that's a good-looking family!

Like mother, like daughter! Here's Kay with Susan, 60ish. Both wear vibrant colour and modern, bold jewelry– the same look flatters each generation. (I'm beginning to catch on that as I age, I could leaven my habitual neutrals with colourful accessories.)

People who refer to certain clothing items as "old lady" might meditate on these shots, and for good measure, consider this photo of her grandmother, kindly provided by Rubiatonta, originally posted on her blog Rubi Sez. Another elegant elder, she is 98 and, according to Rubi, able to make a racy double entendre with the best of them.

Rubi's grandmother

Mrs. B in Marni

Above, the ultimate in octagenarian chic, the renowned British fashion merchant Joan Burstein, "Mrs. B", over 80, in a Marni tunic, part of a fabulous feature showing what she wore for a month, in British Vogue. (Thank you Josephine, aka "chicatanyage", who writes the blog Chic at Any Age for posting the link to this.)

Mrs. B's earrings

The bags! The jewelry! If Mrs. B is your model, better start saving now.

There are women like this in every community, and don't for a minute think they don't care about how they look anymore.

A commenter pointed out on The Sartorialist that the elders shot by Scott Shuman were dressing snappily before we were born. Calling them "adorable" or "cute" (as other commenters had) infantalizes, neuters and diminishes their substance.

There is certain behaviour I have observed in a few elder women, an eye-batting coyness, a reversion to adolescent giggles and flirtatiousness. (I suspect this is a coping mechanism for loss of independence). But the vast majority of elder women are not cute.

La voie lactée by Geneviève Cadieux

A final image: the sultry red lips of this mature woman hover over Montreal.

"La voie lactée" by Geneviève Cadieux sits atop Le Musée d'art contemporain; a version will appear in the Paris Metro at Saint-Lazare. The lips belong to her mother, a family friend; we will see the piece when it is installed in October.

I applaud both cities for choosing this celebration of authentic age, with its distinct beauty and for once eschewing the easy allure of the unlined face.

What to wear when you retire?

2011-07-26T07:00:00.369-04:00

Thanks to Lisa of Privilege, Deja Pseu of Une femme d'un certain age and materfamilas of materfamilias writes for their insightful posts about identity, and in some posts, the intersection of wardrobe choice and identity.

One of Pseu's commenters, Carolyn from Oregon, wrote:

"... Though not a fashionista, in my work years I made the effort to put a look together, and focused my efforts and dollars on my work wardrobe, dressing very practically and casually off the job. That off the job wardrobe now leaves me feeling a bit dowdy and frumpy. I need a style for more casual, home-based living."

I too am mostly-retired, free from the requisites of a work wardrobe. Over the past two years, friends and I have discovered several principles.

1. Get 'dressed'

The French word sortable does not exactly translate, but it means, roughly, that you are dressed to go out, not dressed up, but dressed. You can spend all day in sweats and an old t-shirt, but unless you're gardening, your attire will not add to your sense of vitality.

"Why spend the money? I'm only wearing this around the house" is the first stop on the road to Frumpville. You know that saying "Work like you don't need the money, love like your heart has never been broken, dance like no one is watching?" Add "Dress like your house is somewhere special."

If you have justified good clothes because they were for work, and now you're not sure you "deserve" them, make yourself a nice restorative margarita and sip slowly till your attitude turns round.

Ooh la la!

If you still need to justify buying decent clothes, consider dressing nicely–not expensively, but with attention–as a small way of contributing to the community. It's like a windowbox I saw once in Paris, positioned so the residents of the apartment who installed it could not see it, but if a passer-by glanced that way, the flowers would delight the eye.

If you retired with a plump pension or simply have the dosh, I'd spring for this Queen of Cashmere long cardi with your monogram on the shoulder.

2. You get to break the rules if you want

Yes, you can!

Purple tights? Shoulder-duster earrings? A little cleavage in your cami? You no longer have to follow a dress code. Have some fun! Put on your clanking charm bracelet and know you are not disturbing your colleagues.

There's a place for this

Some retirees trip out and dress in nothing but golf wear, but most of us get over it. If you were not a scarf woman for forty years, you will not become one now, so watch out for buying things because you think your style "should" change. Marian bought many pairs of shorts, which connoted lighthearted leisure–and now realizes she looks far better in pants.

3. The role changes, yet vestiges remain

Retired is you minus the symbolic attire. Donate the role-signifiers you had to wear, like the offend-no-one business suits I call Corporate Drag or "happy shiny teacher" sweaters (a term coined by Linda, a kindergarten teacher).


Relaxed yet stylish

Your image is a palimpsest; make room for the new writing on your slate. Your taste is the pen you've held for decades. I now dress like I'm going to a decent restaurant; it's a standard that works. I got rid of many woven-fabric shirts and replaced them with less-formal knits that have some personality, like this Episode knit tunic.

Corollary: You are going to run into people who remember you in your old role. You no longer have to dress for that role, but you don't want to look like you don't care anymore, either. Attend to your grooming as if you were promoted, not retired. You finally have time to pumice your heels or use cuticle cream daily.

4. You need fewer clothes, but they need to be versatile and (mostly) washable.

The workplace is a thinly-veiled fashion show, especially if you work with a lot of women. Now, if you want to wear your favourite skirt four days in a row, you can. Since you are not earning money, drycleaning is going to seem like a big expense, so search for washable but sharp pieces that reach the 'smart casual' level.

On and off the slope

Examples:

Bogner's Ganna shirt, shown, the kind of chic sporty that's not "gym".

Washable cotton skirt

This Talbot's cotton skirt, in camel or black, $79, is washable, transitions into winter with tights and a sweater, and is definitely not you-caught-me-on-a-bad-day.

Barbour striped jacket

I'd like to run into a former colleague while wearing Barbour's striped jacket, and it would be my secret that I got it deeply on sale!

If you'd like to see more ideas, Lisa at Privilege has a terrific post showing some cool Polyvores. It's titled "9 Ways Not to Look Like a Slob Even If You Don't Dress for the Office These Days".

5. Keep wearing what you love and adapt it

Julia's cotton pant suit

Some retirees don't dress much differently, they just tweak their favourites.

Julie wears mostly pant suits, same as when she was a sales manager, with fine cotton tees. (Shown, Talbot's cross-dyed chambray pantsuit.) She shortened the hems for flats, forsaking heels for good.

Mar's Thai silver belt

Marilyn, retired from IT consulting, has kept her wardrobe of soft Eileen Fisher separates, and now accessorizes with the exotic jewelry she's collected on trips to Asia, which she thought was "too much" for some of her clients.

She got a new hairstyle and colour that did not depend on costly high-and-lowlights and dumped the briefcase, but has kept 75% of her working wardrobe.

Barb's tweed hacking jacket

Barb swapped tailored business pants for dark-wash denim but kept the cotton shirts she does not mind ironing, and adds her favourite tweed jackets (bought on trips to the UK and Ireland, the one shown is by J. Crew) or cashmere tees.

Liz' sailor shirt

Liz, who worked in the "very business casual" world of publishing, is a yoga pant devotee, and finds that a top with a graceful boat or vee neckline makes the difference between dash and drab. Liz collects longer-cut styles like this LL Bean French sailor's shirt and adds her pair of jade studs.

I've seen varied responses to retirement among my cohort, from delight to dread. When you retire, whatever your mood, you still have the task of determining what face you want to present to the world.

You will feel best if that face is content, and wearing what pleases you enhances that contentment.

How to make your jewelry look new without buying (hardly) anything

2011-07-21T07:00:00.032-04:00

How's that for a teaser?

1. Clean it

Sonic cleaner, about $35

Many of you endure far more rigorous grooming regimes than I would ever attempt: Clarisonic this, injectable that. But don't forget your gems! A sonic cleaner dislodges the grit that your eye can't see.

Your stones (but not organic materials like pearls or coral) will assume new vibrancy, with much more presence and sparkle. (Note to Marie-Laure: Taking a shower in your diamond earrings does not clean them.)

Dull silver is improved by a very light buff with a polishing cloth, not to mirror-shininess, but just enough to remove the dullness that obscures its lake-at-dawn glow. Think of it as microdermabrasion.

Restring pearls every 1 to 2 years, because the thread becomes dingy from body oils; this happens imperceptibly. Here's a gentle, easy method for cleaning pearls from Kari Pearls.

2. Mix it

Try new combinations. Dip into the box and see what comes out, or invite a friend with a good eye over for a nice G&T and some creative parallel play.

Her romp amid your jewelry might reveal the charm of vintage turquoise mixed with your mother's amber beads, an Art Nouveau ring tweaked by enamel bangles, pearls thrown against a 70s resin pendant. A retro brooch can live in bliss with a single feather on a chain.

Here are a couple of pins worn on my beret, one $2 at a church jumble sale, one fine jewelry. Which is which? And why not wear them together?

Plan B: Swap a few items with your friend, for two months.

3. Put it somewhere different

Pin the turtle with a few stones missing on the cuff of a jean jacket.(Destroyed jewelery looks at home on jean jackets.) Pin your aunt's flower brooch onto the belt of your shirtdress. Stick a lone button earring at the side of a v-neck.

Blog-goddess Belle de Ville of Beladora commented (when I mistakenly posted this earlier) that her favourite trick is to wind a chain necklace around her wrist.

Wear a ring on your middle finger, thumb, pinky... or all of them. If you feel overdressed, take off one thing, but start with six. (I've moved to Montreal, where women wear a lot more jewelry, and I like it.)

More modern separated

4. If you wear them, separate the ER/WR

Nothing is more stultifying than than the matching wedding ring and engagement ring set. Put them on different hands, wear one at a time, or stack in one more ring with the set to break up the match.

Plan B: Restyle entirely into one new band, but this strays from "without spending" topic.

4. Reno it, low rent version

A commenter wrote that while in bed with a head cold, she pulled apart several Czech crystal bead necklaces and restrung them on fishing line. Her total cost, I'm guessing, was about 40 cents plus the Neo-Citran, and she ended up with several long strands to twist or knot. Buy some real ribbon of silk, linen or poly (my favourite store is Mokuba) and let yourself experiment with the odd bits you don't wear.

You don't need fancy findings; knots and a pert bow at the end of the ribbon will finish the piece.

Here are directions from Martha Stewart Living for a semiprecious stone necklace with ribbon ties.

5. Move out the bitsy, blatantly-branded and busted

If you have things that are too young and girly (teddies, most hearts, hugs and kisses), no amount of finessing will make them look right, and they will drag down the things you really love. You must know someone fifteen to twenty.

What are the chances?

Please Return to Tiffany: is this not the most egregious brand ~~slut~~ strut in the world? Not to mention illogical; if lost, should it not be returned to you?

Give it to your friend's daughter, who is the right age to be a brand ambassador for a company that does not need it.

What's broken? If you have not repaired it in five years, sell it for scrap or repair and give it to someone. Just like your clothes, make room for only what works.

6. Layer what's left

Sometimes what you have is just fine, but you're bored by wearing the same combos.

Layered lavishly

Start with a strand of coloured stones, beads or pearls.

Add chains, a locket, a charm or chains. Odd numbers work best. Don't heed metals, mix brass with gold, silver with costume, silver with gold.

Something formerly nondescript is bound to sing.

Stack rings, bracelets, necklaces. I am not a wearer of multiple earrings, but maybe you can carry that.

7. Buy a firestarter

Typewriter-key charm

There is spending here but it need not be precious or pricey. A firestarter is one piece that changes all the things you already own.

It might be a large-loop silver chain, a typewriter-key necklace from Etsy, a pungent purple glass cabochon ring, a souvenir locket you pick up in a Mexican plaza.

Leather and brass bangles

Seventy-three dollars for this set of twelve multicoloured leather bangles by Helene Giza could rev up your summer jewelry wardrobe.

eBay MOP ring

Here's an enormous grey Spanish mother-of-pearl ring in a heavy silver setting, bought on eBay for $90 maybe 7 years ago. I've had more compliments on this than pieces at many times this price.

Yes, it's fun to buy, but you likely have lovely things just thrumming to be taken out and worn. That pleasure has already been purchased, make sure you enjoy it!

Seven tips for finding a new hair stylist

2011-07-20T07:00:00.006-04:00

The move required a new hair stylist. (Eventually, a dentist and family doc, but first things first.)

In the neighbourhood adjacent to mine, I rented a temporary apartment for the moving week (via Airbnb, a great resource) and found my stylist, Laurie of LocalB, by peering through its large window daily and noting how good everyone looked, both in the chair and holding scissors.

If you're thinking of switching hairdressers, here are my ideas, and please, those of you who've done it, please add your own:

1. Go to a neighbourhood that echoes your style.

if you want classic, coiffed hair, check your business district; if you want something casual yet polished, cruise the upscale neighbourhoods, and if you want edgy, asked the tatted-up girl in funky bar where she goes. This is a good screen, because salons attract a certain clientele.

Not 100% reliable, though: my Parisienne friend Daniele got a knockout classic bob–every hair cut with microscopic precision– at Toronto's Coupe Bizarre, from a girl with a half-shaved head and barbell studs in her face.

2. Sit in a nearby coffee shop and see a few heads, before and after. Notice whether a woman leaves with that "looking gooood" bounce in her step. Maybe book a manicure there and take a good look around. If they're turning the chairs in 20 minutes you are likely not going to get personal attention and a precise cut.

3. Be wary about online reviews; there is a good deal of shilling and slagging in the gossipy, competitive hair world.

4. The time-honoured advice of finding someone with a great cut and asking who did it? Meh.

The stylist who's great for one may be only mediocre for you. Some stylists have biases, so everybody gets layered bangs. Others stylists can be inconsistent or simply lose interest in their work; some rest on their reputations. I prefer someone up and coming, not yet a star, who still has juice for the job.

Similarly, portfolios on the salon's web site are not perfect predictors either, or the creator may be long departed.

5. Make sure you see the stylist first, rather than booking by phone. If he or she has an unflattering cut or crummy colour, make any excuse to get out of there. Women with curls: if the stylist picks up thinning shears, run.

Some salons offer an initial consultation for a minimal fee; the cut is not done then, but you can discuss ideas and let your radar sweep over the place.

6. Pay attention to the product lines they sell. The better the products on offer, the more likely the salon benefits from regular seminars offered by these companies.

7. Finally, resist loading the stylist with too much baggage. It's OK to mention that you abhor short bangs or don't want your ears showing, but a good stylist is an artist first. Let him or her have some creative freedom; it's hair, not cosmetic surgery. As my stylist friend Ingrid said, "We've seen thousands of heads, you've seen one."

I only told Laurie that I don't want to blow out or chemically straighten my curly hair. She revised the shape, an improvement subtle to the world but appreciated by me.

Isn't that what we all want: a great cut we can manage ourselves, rain or shine?

Heels: Height and health

2011-07-19T07:00:00.002-04:00

Has your heel-habit changed?

In my large city, I rarely see a woman past 50 in the highest heels, at least by day. Most wear the moderate pump, kitten heels or flats. Women in their 20s and 30s, though, lope along in four inches or higher.

Much as I admire their pretty pairs, I simply can't walk in heels without pain, and now I've learned why.

A kinesiology masters student, Danielle Barkema, had 15 women walk in flats, 2-inch and 3.5-inch heels. Using sensors, cameras and other equipment, she measured the forces acting on their knee joints and the shock wave traveling up their bodies from the heel strike.

As heels got higher, compression grew on the inside of the knee. Heels two inches and higher also changed joint positions at the ankle, hip and trunk.

"I tell my friends to wear high heels in moderation", Barkema said, "and if possible, to wear lower heels."

Heights of pleasure

How can bad girls go good? A few ways to mitigate the damage, below.

A wedge gives more stability than a thin heel. Nike Air Delfina Open-Toe Wedge with internal cushioning, cork platform, leather upper. Price, $198 from Zappos.

Palomino wedge

More heft to the heel creates less shock on the joint. The Charles Jourdan "Fae" is still high, but the chunky heel is far gentler than a stiletto. Price, $225 from Zappos.

Camel architectural heel

Look for a padded footbed. You can buy inserts, but they can make the fit too tight. Kors calls his "MK-Flex"; his python pumps with 3-inch heel pack that secret soother. Price, $110 from Zappos.

Glazed python pump

Switch to flats, at least some days. Many women say they never thought they'd wear them, but then realized after trying a pair that their headache was gone. Aquatalia's studded patent "Ogle" flats prove flat isn't frumpy. You might have to re-hem your pants, but you'll be able to skip across town. Price, $225 from Zappos; also in red.

Studded flats

My heels stay in the box till I put on a cocktail dress. What about you?