tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:/posts the world according to sherimaven 2017-08-21T15:29:35Z Sheri Rosenberg tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1185415 2017-08-21T15:25:17Z 2017-08-21T15:29:35Z How to dress for an eclipse- today, tomorrow, and all season

Good late morning, Monday. So yea, an eclipse. I know. You know. We all know.

Walking to work today felt a bit like a disaster movie for some reason, at least in my mind it did. Times Square during an eclipse should be interesting. And apparently my birth sign, Cancer is going to feel it the most as we're born under the spell of the moon. GREAT. Add that to the ever awful Merc in retro and what a lovely Monday today should be. 

And it's not surprising there's all this eclipse mania happening- possibly because things are so shite right here on Earth that many want to look to the skies and stars for some relief, even if it can scratch your bloody eye out.  Of course, I think of everything in terms of what I'd wear to such an auspicious occasion as totality, and this dress from Issey Miyake, on sale from a cute store in Portland, would fit the bill. It's perfect. I'm in love with it.

Also worth noting and my favorite trend spotting friend Irma and I spotted this last year as a trend to watch and it's still in full swing- stars and astrology are kind of everywhere. J. Crew is selling these cute Zodiac sign tee shirts, and these spendy leggings are on well toned gams all over town. 

And my favorite local designer, Meg, was inspired by NASA and space for her Fall collection, which is a nod to a futuristic female mystique where female empowerment is very much in the stars. Love this print so much.

As for you anti-trend types who may want to dip a bit of toe or neck in this case, try out this 10 dollar scarf from the Gap. It's super cute and would be a nice little addition to your starworthy wardrobe. 

Look for a continued interest in all things up above this winter, that is, if we all survive...dun dun dunnnn...THE GREAT ECLIPSE.

Cause that's what's up this totally total eclipse of a Monday in the 212. Yours, in seeing stars. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1184429 2017-08-17T14:09:05Z 2017-08-17T14:09:08Z Because New York

Good morning, Thursday. It's a beautiful sunny day in New York City. So I thought I'd take a pause and reflect.

I've started freelancing at Ann Taylor, which is located on Times Square.  To a real New Yorker, working or being near Times Square is a take a deep breath first kind of vibe- the most tourists, the most bullshit, the biggest crowds and swarms and huddled masses. I'll admit that the thought of coming here on the daily was not the happiest thought I've ever had, but working on one of the most crowded stretches of Manhattan is affirming.

Because this city is beautiful. And I am still in awe of the fact I get to live here. 

Recent news events have rattled me (and all of us) to my core. I'm shaken, stirred, and every which way. It's amazing to me that an 80s icon is in the White House- which comes with a cavalcade of 80s associated fears- greed, nuclear war, and yes- hate. As a child in the 80s we were hardly immune to hate. As a young Jewish girl in a Philadelphia suburb I quite clearly remember swastikas being soaped onto our cars on the night before Halloween almost every year.  I remember the Klan, still hooded, showing up on the news from time to time and scaring the crap out of all of us with their messages of hate and white power. And I grew up having nightmares about Nazis after reading The Diary of Anne Frank and Elie Wiesel's Night in Hebrew school. So there's that. But I digress.  Because New York. NEW YORK.

As I was walking to the office this morning along 42nd Street past Bryant Park going west, I took some time to look at all the beautiful faces I don't often see when my head is in my phone or when I'm annoyed that someone almost knocked over my iced coffee by getting too close. There were faces of every color and creed. There were fashionable women. African American women. A Sikh man with his head wrapped.  And every type of person you can imagine, all living and loving and getting to work together on this sunny late Summer morning. Amidst the glow of marquees and the sirens and the traffic cops, there was humanity. Everywhere you look. It still mystifies to this day.

I am not one to ever take this amazing city for granted. I have loved it since the moment I've arrived and though I left it for some time, I feel more New York than ever. Because we are diverse and strong and liberal and we are everything this nationalist crap is not. And though it's this very same swarm of humanity that can often overwhelm me for its energy and mass, today I realized yet again that what makes New York great despite rising rents and horrible subway delays is all of us. It is in no way easy to live here- in fact, it's really hard. But the reason we show up every day and work as hard as we can and survive here is because we love living in a city where we can be whomever we wish to be.  There is no doubt that this city has changed -some for the better and some for the worse.  It's too expensive and I worry that the heart and soul of this place has been pushed out by hedge funders and beauty bloggers.  But here's what's not changed since Holly Golightly had breakfast at Tiffany's- there's still a lid for every pot here, and there's still a hugely diverse swath of civilization here and there always will be. And I believe that in New York, you can still come here to escape a sheltered or intolerant life and do your thing. And that's no small feat. 

As I watched the events unfold this weekend, I worried about my friends living in other parts of the country where this may not be the case. Yes- we live in a bubble here. But it's a bubble that's a model of progressive thinking and tolerance and respect for our rights as individuals to practice, love, and be whatever we want to be. And that's what America is supposed to be all about. To look out onto Times Square and feel you are a part of something very powerful.  The power and love I feel from and for this city will most likely never leave me. So I wanted to take a second away from some regularly scheduled programming and yet again profess my undying love for a city where every day I feel lucky to live in a place where I can be me, regardless of how difficult things get. I may be too cynical these days to be romantic, but New York still brings it out in me. I can't help it. I love this crazy place.

So thanks New York. I love you forever- let's stay together. Loving you whether...

Cause that's what's up this big city kind of Thursday in the best place on Earth. Yours, in silly love songs and big apples. Because New York. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1184192 2017-08-16T16:08:33Z 2017-08-16T16:08:33Z Maven Pick: Charlotte Tillbury's Magic Cream lives up to the name

Good afternoon, Wednesday.  First I was thinking about bunkers, now I'm thinking about Nazis. If only there was a potion for all of this. Ugh. And speaking of potions, as much as I love to be ahead of the curve, sometimes a girl falls a bit behind. So many products, so little time. 

But I finally got my mitts on a jar of Charlotte Tillbury's Magic Creme- a favorite of icons like Kate Moss to get that skin a glowin'. Man. It does not dissapoint. Though I can only pretend to be a model/rock star in need of some skin therapy after a rough night in cool Britannia, I still need the help. We all do, don't we? 

Full disclosure- my skin is not my biggest issue. It's always been ok and manages to stay relatively intact. Thank goodness for that. But we all need a little help and I'm one for a glowy visage so I found myself wanting to know if all the hype around this cream was true, and it is.

I use it morning and night as a moisturizer and it's really next level and I see a huge difference. My skin is glowing and I've gotten a lot of compliments of late- it's true I've also dumped dairy and sugar for the most part, but I give credit where credit is due, and that credit goes to Charlotte and her cream. I also adore the eye cream- which for the price point is potent and works wonders for tired eyes and the wrinkles that love them. Sometimes I'll mix in a bit of La Mer with the moisturizer at night for that extra bit of slathering. I do like to embalm myself before bed. Like an oil slick meets embalming really. It's cute. Not really. But it does the trick because I hate when my skin feels dry.

So there you have it-  I had the pleasure of meeting Charlotte's PR person in New York for a drink last week and she was every bit as lovely as this cream. I love good people working to support good things. And this is a good, good thing. Great, really. Kate Moss knows her stuff. And though I no longer party like Katie Kates, I still need a bit of help. And this is just what I needed to keep that glow alive.  Now maybe Charlotte needs to work on a cream to make the country right again. I'll be first in line. With dewy skin, naturally. You should really hit this. It lives up to the name for reals.

Links to buy here and here.

Cause that's what's up this magical Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in lotions and potions. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1183664 2017-08-15T12:53:15Z 2017-08-15T12:56:16Z A job I had once: Hostess with the mostess at an Irish Bar in Philly

Good morning, Tuesday. I ruefully said goodbye to my stay at home life yesterday as I start a nice little freelance gig today. Khan and I strolled around my BK neighborhood- I took an 11 am barre class (the luxury), and sat in the park and read for a while as the whole afternoon tra la la is about to become very much a non sequitur.  I've appreciated this time of quiet so very much, but now it's back to it. Because a girl can't survive on mid morning workouts and indulgent dog walks alone. If only...

So I thought it would be fun to do a once a week series on some of the (very) odd jobs I've found myself doing throughout my life. We've all had some weird ones- that's what makes a person whole. In high school I did everything from retail in clothing shops to telemarketing.  I ended up going to college in Philadelphia at Temple (my hometown), and worked in the restaurant world all throughout. Man. Oh man.

I remember a few things. Well, very few things. Ha. Have you worked in restaurants? It's party central. And it's really fun. Particularly when you're young.

After working at a couple swish spots around the city, I ended up being a hostess at Downey's, a restaurant since closed since being featured on Bar Rescue where that hang faced host tried to turn it back into the Irish pub of its former glory. It was not disgusting at the time, mind you, but back in 2011 it was named worst Irish pub in America, so there's that.  In its heyday, it was owned by an Irishman named Jack Downey, who incidentally was related to the infamous Morton Downey Jr. I used to see him quite a bit with lots of well endowed young ladies at the height of his fame. Jack hung around with a bunch of creepy old men who wore sunglasses at night and liked to party.  I didn't bother with them much. Jack was a bit of an elusive character anyway- he lived in an apartment above the bar which he often stumbled up to after a busy Friday night.  There was also a speed fueled jazz trio that played every Sunday completely out of their minds- three old men who were absolute crazies. That kept things interesting. Somehow, I had two managers back to back who always protected me- both men by the way and infinitely kind to me, which seemed to somehow piss off everyone else. They served as a nice barrier to all the creeps. 

Let me be clear- I had very little experience with Irish anything other than growing up in a fairly Irish town. But I did like to drink. So that worked in my favor. I learned quite a bit about Irish food at that time- from corned beef and cabbage (a big no for me) to all sorts of bisques to whiskey soaked soda bread. It was all there. Oh- and don't think I was a waitress or bus person- I was a hostess. I'm too spazzy to serve people food. But I'm good at taking reservations and showing people to their tables. Particularly when fueled by, well, let's just say we were all very wide awake. Another interesting cultural nuance of restaurant work. ;)

I worked at that job for a few years and almost full time throughout college- I received hundred dollar bills for seating some mafia guys on a busy Friday night, and I would do inventory with our manager till 6 in the morning while nursing a Jameson on the rocks and listening to Chicago blues. In many ways, restaurant work prepared me for my career in advertising. No- I'm not talking about cocaine. I'm talking about knowing how to work under pressure and work as a team- if a table needed bussing you bussed it. If someone was slammed, you didn't seat another table in their section. You learned how to share the wealth on a slow night and understood the mechanics of brunch vs. dinner. You learned who to be nice to in the kitchen and who to hang with at the bar. I learned that first impressions go a long way- particularly when you are the first face a customer sees.  We were all kids then amidst some professional restaurant folk- two of the waitstaff had been there their whole careers and were wisecracking tough ladies who had to endure a ton of dirty jokes and pats on the ass. Our bartenders were pros who would most likely kill themselves if they had to make any of the crazy cocktails we enjoy today.  We worked hard, and played very hard. We ate staff meals together and often came to eat there when we were a bit skint. We had to wrangle a crowd on St. Patrick's Day that was the height of mess- they would take out all the tables and everybody was there to get completely annihilated. I had the unfortunate honor of standing next to the bagpipe player, who played every hour on the hour at the hostess station in a winceworthy salute to the day. I'll never forget the grandmother who was running around the bar with her dress over her head. How could I? 

I made many friends at that place, kissed some frogs, and absolutely had one too many. Many times. 

If you're familiar with the Happy Mondays, it was very much pills, thrills,  and bellyaches, albeit with an Irish and Philly accent. I remember very clearly hanging out with one guy from work for a little pregame at his apartment, only to wonder why on Earth what looked like last night's dinner was sitting in his bathroom, fork still in the takeout container. Classy. 

But I loved that a nice Jewish girl like me ended up working at an Irish bar amidst some real characters. The waitstaff and I would get out around midnight and go dancing until 4. And then I'd go to college in last night's makeup and eat an egg sandwich and try not to think about my hangover. Sure I had a few jobs before Downey's, but it was my first job where I got a taste of what it's like to work with a bunch of crazy people who are often far from appropriate, and it never really bothered me. I liked being part of that team- everyone had such an amazing sense of humor and we laughed constantly- at each other, at the customers, at ourselves. I loved the frenetic pace of a rush of customers, and enjoyed a sleepy Sunday seating the brunch crowd while admiring the jazz trio who were all pushing 75 but partied like there was no tomorrow. Oh, Danny boy...

I often wonder what happened to that whole crew. .  I kept in touch with one girl friend who also ended up here in New York, but other than that, not at all. It was a moment in time and that's all it was really meant to be. I'm not saying all restaurants are as debauched as this one was, mind you. I have great respect for anyone crazy enough to open a restaurant and anyone tough enough to endure the stress and constant hazing of that line of work. It's also why I will never be rude to restaurant staff unless they are rude to me first. I appreciate how hard it all is, and I loathe people that treat resto people badly. It's so not cool.

I've read recently about my generation and how we were the last one who could exist in a non PC world. Restaurant life at that time was very much the antithesis of being politically correct, and I very much enjoyed pushing boundaries with everyone as it gave me a bit of a thick skin and the ability to always find humor in times of stress. If you could survive endless ribbing from a drunken Irishman, you could probably make it in New York. That's a job I had once. And I'll never forget it. 

Cause that's what's up this working for a living kind ofTuesday in New York City. Yours, in smiling Irish eyes and taking reservations. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1183481 2017-08-14T15:15:41Z 2017-08-14T15:39:07Z Maven trend alert: Everything's coming up ruffles as Summer draws to a close


Good morning, Monday.

I'm sure you want to know just where in heck I've been all these weeks, but meh. I want to talk about ruffles. 

Recently a friend and I were texting to make lunch plans and she said "can't wait to see you and we must talk about this ruffle thing".  I knew exactly what she meant.

If you've been hunting around this season for fun things to wear, you've no doubt noticed a major ruffle moment happening.And if your very own feathers are ruffled over only a few more weeks of Summer, fear not- you can still get in on this trend.  Sure ruffles expose our feminine sides so it's not surprising that they regularly make an appearance in Spring and Summer when we're feeling a bit more inclined to wear dresses and prints and pretty little things. But I've embraced a real ruffle moment this Summer, particularly when it comes to the one shouldered varietal- two dresses I currently own rock a ruffle- one from Cos and this one from Apiece Apart. Sure they're similar, but i love them both. And there's something very pretty about a ruffle around the face- you need not worry about looking like a clown. Just do a little pop by on J.Crew's site and you'll see ruffles just about everywhere.
Most particularly a Pierrot clown- my gals around in the 80s will catch that reference, ps. Remember these weird paintings we all loved? Pourquoi? 

I also recently discovered a new obsession- dressing gowns from Horror Vacui from Germany which are inspired by 600 year old bed clothes and are so beyond chic- next f'in level I tell you. And there are some legit ruffle moments happening there- way more festooned than I would typically embrace but love love love. I'd tough up the dress a bit with some black boots or a moto jacket for the Fall. So good. 

I also love this Topshop one piece that absolutely shouts out Carmen Miranda, but is chic with a pair of denim shorts or a wrap skirt. 
And this Lisa Maria Fernandez two piece has a subtle bit of ruffle but is girly and pretty in that pin up kind of way. 
And if you want to merely dip a toe into this trend, try this hot shoe from Asos
I also love this ruffle mule from Loeffler Randall, a perennial favorite brand of mine. Love the color too.

So I had a lovely lunch with my girl. And since we hadn't seen each other in ages, we totally forgot to discuss this ruffle situation. So thought I'd discuss it right here.

Cause that's what's up this well ruffled Monday in the 718. Yours, in flouncy goodness. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1182701 2017-08-11T13:10:42Z 2017-08-14T15:23:21Z Smokes and the city: Remembering a different time while watching a favorite show


Good morning, Friday. TGIF yo.

So last night a pal and I watched a bunch of episodes of "Sex and the City",  Season 3 over a bottle or two of chilled red and some tacos. If you need a refresh, Season 3 is all about tube top Carrie (a perennial favorite of mine) as well as an awesome cameo by none other than John Slattery, who plays a local politician who with a rather "golden" desire in the bedroom (let's leave that there). He was fabulous by the way. 

Watching this show is always a fun exercise in New York nostalgia. When Manolo was king and women were enjoying a real moment in the spotlight as Carrie and co made singledom sexy and fun. And if you were living that life at that time, it was fun. Lots of fun.

And here's something I realized as we all struggle with the "new" New York that can often feel a bit sanitary and bland.  I think the moment New York became less fun was the moment that people stopped smoking. Really. Think about it.

Watching Carrie with a cig between her lips now feels almost perverse. Weird. Her character today would never smoke cigarettes. But back in the day we all smoked, and admittedly, I have had a long road with cigarettes myself and now feel very much a pariah for smoking at all. Yes, of course- there's no question smoking is possibly one of the worst things you can do- we all have the memo- over and out. But since we've all gotten so carried away with health and wellness, I wonder who's having any fun? Sure, sure- rose all day I know. Ya da ya da.  But is all that rose any good if you can't have a cigarette in between sips? It's not as fun. I'm telling you. Just know that. You may be wearing a sweatshirt with an affirmation after a Taryn Toomey class, but are you really having fun? I'm guessing no. OK, maybe a little. Just not as much. Sure we've grown up, but I miss decadence.  Particularly when times like these call very much for a drink and a cig. Oh and all that fake posh fun on Instagram doesn't count. It just does not. Because I say so. It feels desperate. So very desperate.

And yes, thanks to Instagram, we've all been regaled with those insane pictures of Black Tap milkshakes and people really going for it when it comes to the new gluttony with a wide eyed childlike approach to hedonism, vs. something dark and kind of hot. But sometimes I miss the casual deadliness of New York in the 90s- when one could smoke and drink and then go the diner when it's all over and that was shockingly normal. I'm sure people still do that ps- and Lord bless them all. Bonus points if you or others are doing this in a tube top, after picking up a man in Staten Island while judging a stripper Fireman contest. Yea, that's what Carrie did. Just saying. And as much as I loved "Girls",  Hannah Horvath was having none of that. And I think she missed out.

So we all know big box retail destroyed New York. Bloomberg destroyed gritty New York. High rents destroyed mom and pop and starving artist New York. But when cigarettes started to cost upwards of 13 bucks, that was really the end right there. New York was always a den of sin- that's what made it a hoot and a half. Now it's just a sea of yoga pants and green juice and acai bowls. Yes, I know- I'm one of them now too. But it doesn't mean I don't miss the days of yore when city life was best served with a healthy side of vice.  

Cause that's what's up this smoke 'em if you got 'em kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in long gone decadence. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1182382 2017-08-10T12:44:25Z 2017-08-10T15:01:35Z Maven's back (and jumping right in).


Hey there Thursday it sure has been a while but here I go again on my ownnnn. 

It's been an interesting Summer indeed- and not in the fun rose swilling, sun soaking way. I've been in the zone of figuring out just what I'm going to do with the rest of my life- no easy task I assure you. This really hit me hard a few weeks ago and I decided to take a bit of a respite from this blog and focus on drumming up some biz for the Maven and getting back to work. 

Fortunately I booked a great gig to take me through the end of the year- more on that next week.  Let's see what else is cooking in my world...

Oh, I started drawing and illustrating again. I have always loved to draw and went to art school most of my life up until I graduated high school. Why I did not pursue this (and many other things) is sort of beyond me, but I'm glad to have found it again, and I've been spending my free time with a sketch pad in hand and a hot set of markers. What am I drawing?Fashion-like things of course. What else? I'll share them with you soon.

As I wind down my last free days before this next gig, I'm grateful for the time I've had to spend some time alone. To work out at random, luxurious times and enjoy my neighborhood. To try and take my mind off of politics and my uncertain career path by investing in some art supplies and making my heart happy.This has not been an easy time for me, but I'm still here. I may not have had a ton of beach time this Summer, but it's been lovely to get back in touch with who I am and who I would like to me. It's getting clearer by the minute and I really appreciate all of the wonderful support and encouragement from friends I've shared my thoughts about all of this with- I've tried to be positive about all of this change happening- it's not easy for me to admit my fears around this thing called life, so thanks for listening- you all know who you are. And without you, I'm nothing. When I feel a bit beat up it's not my default to be social, but I pushed myself and I treasure the time I've spent this Summer with friends who have been kind and offered me some much needed advice and compassion. And of course, cocktails. Although this is the least boozy Summer of recent memory and that's just fine by me. 

I'll be back with a more regularly scheduled post tomorrow and next week. I want to share some more moments from my life- a series on my many odd jobs is in order as well as my usual musings on products I love and trends I've found. I'm fortunate to have a place to air all of these thoughts, so please keep reading.  Don't you just love this Arthur Elgort photo, ps? His images are the very best medicine.

Cause that's what's up this moving on kind of Thursday in beautiful Brooklyn. Yours, in enjoying my last few days of free time. Hope all's well by you. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1176516 2017-07-24T12:11:31Z 2017-07-25T18:55:02Z Be back in a week

Hi, Monday- Maven's off for the week. Summer and such.

See you all soon! XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1175760 2017-07-21T13:10:49Z 2017-07-21T13:10:49Z The future of freelance. (Hint, it's not just about you)

Good morning, Friday. Oh, New York. Again with the 95 degrees and 100 percent humidity? Ugh. Fall please. Now.

So I've been thinking a ton about work and career (almost too much really) and I'm realizing I've outgrown my current (so called) freelance life. It's not that I don't like being freelance anymore- I do love my freedom and the challenge of a new project every few weeks or months, but the work is no longer steady for what I have traditionally offered and short of a full on panic, I know I need to reinvent. 

Often I've thought that meant adding tools to the toolbox- learning new skills is always a great idea, but I'm at a point where I'm a quick study and it's not super hard for me to produce just about anything. Not at all bragging of course, but I just know how to make stuff. Give me a good idea (make that a great idea) and I can get it done. I'm agnostic, experienced, and just love figuring out how to get it all done.

But here's something- I know there are many things I can't do on my own. Things that people want or need or require on a project. And as I watch a bit of a death valley moment for freelancers in my little neck of the woods called advertising, it occurred to me that flying solo may no longer be the answer. I feel the next generation of freelance or consultant life will be anything but an individual effort. I can see myself partnering with a few like minded maniacs who are passionate and smart and start pitching clients on the power of a team. I can see this being extraordinary for everything from boutique law firms who need some marketing help to big brands who want a different point of view. I know many brands are staffing up internally when it comes to marketing, but there's room. I know there's room. It's not about pitching a group as an ad agency or anything like that- think a collective of people, a team, who can work across boundaries and make it all go. If I close my eyes I can easily think of five to ten people I'd love to partner with- so maybe this whole power of one scenario needs to be rejiggered to include a safety in numbers mentality? Think sleeper cells of creative types who want to make it rain. Am I onto something? I think I may be. Thinking something like a five piece band. I Sure, you can still do solo projects, but I'm all about the vibe of a band these days, where everybody has a special offer and riffs so beautifully together. 'm Keith of course. ;)

After years of working in and around trends, I think this may be the next phase for life as a consultant. Maybe it sounds like a communal approach, but I'm good with that. I can also see this reshaping the whole coworking thing- instead of shacking up at WeWork (no thanks), why not share an office with a group of people you can call on to collaborate and reinforce your very own brand? We all know the system is broken- I'm looking to shake it up and wondering if that includes putting together a team and marketing ourselves as a group? Interesting isn't it? You could literally stage this a million different ways- with people from all over the world. I like an arsenal. It's much better than a single bullet. That's my take anyway as I try to figure it all out. 

I've never been a big joiner and have always seen myself as a solo type- but a bit of crystal ball gazing has me seeing this as the future of the consultant model- we all know collaboration has been a buzzword for a good stretch now, but finally seeing how it can come to life. So who wants to party?

Cause that's what's up this team building Friday in the 718. Yours, in group hugs. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1175457 2017-07-20T14:11:56Z 2017-07-20T17:36:44Z Maven product pick: Benefit Concealer

Good morning, Thursday. It's hottttttt and I'm happily working in the a/c and not planning on moving, nor is the Khan man. We's chillin. 

So if you're like me, you may always be on the hunt for a good concealer. I've gone high (By Terry) and low (Covergirl) and just about everywhere in between and find concealer so difficult to get right, particularly if you are not 25. You've got to be careful when applying it and watch the wrinkles around your eyes- but a good concealer can do wonders for looking fake awake. I love it for that. 

So yet again Benefit comes through for me- even though their packaging feels so preteen, their products are consistently wonderful and well priced.  Their latest, the Boi-ing hydrating concealer, is $20 and really fabulous. It's moisturizing and non drying and does not cake at all under the eyes. I love how the applicator is more like a lip balm too- the consistency is just great and it blends beautifully. I'd give it a go if I were you- I went with the medium shade and it's perfect for me.  The key to concealer past 35 is all about whether or not it will dry you out- this one is specifically made to hydrate and moisturize the skin under your eyes, that's why it's a great anti-aging game changer. I do love my By Terry, ps. It's just way too spendy and this one is my new fav and so affordable. 

Needless to say, this heat has me going fairly makeup free of late, but a bit of concealer can be your BFF when you're feeling depleted or blah or any number of maladies that some good coverage can fix. This is truly a must have and for the price, it's a real win win. Link to buy here

Cause that's what's up this quick tip of a Thursday in the 718. Yours, in covering up. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1175041 2017-07-19T11:56:48Z 2017-07-19T11:57:51Z Maven recommends: All white is alright


Good morning, Wednesday. It's dead hot outside. Almost in a panicky way. As you know, my hot weather threshold is low- I'm about ready for Fall around here if only we could keep the longer daylight and laid back vibe. But ugh it's hot in the city, baby.

So I thought I'd post some inspiration amongst all of this perspiration- because when it's this hot outside, you can't wear your basic black. I mean, you can, but white is a much better choice. Considering I'm a bit of a pigpen it's a risky choice when out and about in the city- from drips of building water (a/c leaks from above) to coffee spills to any number of city gunk situations that may occur throughout the day. I'm loving these all white looks- my favs are probably the more flowy versions like the one at the top of the post (love the color pop too) and I adore that jumpsuit of course. So keep it freshl and light and white today. With our current train situation (Summer of hell anyone?) and rising temps, you're going to look for ways to not only stay calm, cool, and collected, but look the part. These looks are fab and fear not- you won't look like a nurse or hospital patient in any of them- that's always my concern with all white but when you play with bits of color or black accessories, it's such a lovely way to beat the heat.

Cause that's what's up this whiteout of a Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in lightening up. XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1174701 2017-07-18T13:31:22Z 2017-07-19T10:46:15Z Seeking freedom at the flea market

Good morning, Tuesday. I'm still in bed yes I am. Lovely bday celebration last night at one of my fav spots, Minetta Tavern. Such a classic New York evening. I do so love it there and that chocolate souffle is no laughing matter.

So this past weekend David and I did Brimfield- that amazing massive flea market up in Mass. It's full of amazing pieces from every era and is a dizzying array of objects, furniture, clothing, and just about anything you could ever want. We had a great time as flea marketing is something we both absolutely love- tons of great vintage toys for sale too- a favorite of mine. I ended up with a Little Sprout radio from the 70s, and a few other things like a vintage paisley pajama top of that fake silky material that reminded me very much of Kurt Cobain. Needless to say, I'll be rocking it in the Fall with outsized jeans and super messy hair.

But other than looking at fab things and consuming a belly's worth of kettle corn, I found a booth that made me question the majority of my life choices. All because of some fabulous Moroccan rugs.

Heja Home is a company based in Burlington, VT and run by a lovely couple in their late 30s. They travel to Morocco and bring back the most beautiful rugs, and they also sell a few modern furniture pieces that go perfectly with said rugs. Every single rug they had was a complete home run- their taste is extraordinary and their booth blew me away. It's common knowledge to stay away from the rug guys at fleas like this, not to mention hyper curated booths (no bargains usually). But I could not stay away from this beautiful space and just had to talk to the owners.  (Def check out their Insta too).

He's a carpenter by trade, she's always been a bit of an artist. They used to deal mostly in furniture but ended up in Morocco somehow and found their calling.  They always loved travel and wanted a life focused around seeing the world, and making some money too. And though I wondered if rich parents were financing this little venture, I felt not- these two were living their dream and that's a huge factor in their success. And then it hit me like a ton of Berber- I've been living a life that's far too structured for my DNA, and I can't help but think my husband is too. I love that this couple (their company name is a combo of their names, Heather and Jason) is living a hippie life in a very chic way. I could get onboard with that. Here's why.

Case in point- we are not planners. I know this does not bode well later in life, but we're not. We've both always been fly by the seat types and that's the truth- we go places last minute (the flea market was a last minute decision after lamenting our lack of summer plans). And truly, our souls are more of the gypsy variety. And we are absolutely not the type As most doctors recommend are best suited for this New York life. I'm more type X,Y, or Z. I'm amazed we've survived here as long as we have- sure I love it to pieces but the constant obsession with money and success and back again gets me sometimes. Actually, a lot of late. It's worth it to some but is it worth it to me? I don't know. I just want to breathe.  

It's true I love my fancy things but at my core, I'm a free spirit. And I've been living a life that often feels far too structured for true happiness. Particularly because we don't have children. Why on Earth did I decide that living deep within a grind was the way to go? So I can eat dinner at Minetta Tavern? Yea, probably. But I'd sacrifice that souffle for a bit of soul food. I would. And listen, these rugs are madly expensive and the irony of pretension that surrounds chic rug peddling from Morocco is not lost on me. But I love the idea of doing something, or rather, bringing something to people that they really want.  Nice rugs make people happy. What's wrong with that? Plus the travel jones is so strong within me. I want to go, and go, and go. Living in a van wearing a bikini does not appeal to me. Traveling around the world acquiring wonderful things to sell to you, you, and you certainly does.

And as we talked to this lovely couple, it became more and more clear. We may not fuck off and sell rugs, but it's worth examining whether this deeply structured life is a happy one, at least when it comes to me. No disrespect to anyone happy with a more structured existence, but if I'm being honest with myself, it doesn't lead me to happiness and it most likely never will. And yes, I realize their life is probably far from perfect- a lot of schlepping for the most part but guarantee they feel satisfied at the end of the day. 

Just something I've been pondering since the weekend- this lovely tan couple left a deep impression on this maven. The fact that living a happy life may be very different than what I thought, or really- exactly what I thought but did not have the cojones to see through, because I thought success was defined by a summer house, a seat at the big girl table, and lots and lots of shoes. Hmm. Ain't that something?

Brimfield is in May, July, and September by the way. I'm definitely going back to soak up some good vibes and hopefully get one rug closer to living a more free spirited life. Cause that's what's up this magic carpet rid of a Tuesday in the BK. Yours, in breaking through and breaking free. XO





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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1174373 2017-07-17T14:31:52Z 2017-07-17T14:32:40Z Once in a lifetime: A birthday riff on choice making

Good morning, Monday. Well, another year. Today's my birthday and if nothing else, I'm grateful to friends and family who make life worth living. I got to check out Brimfield this weekend- an amazingly huge flea market up in Mass that is so up my alley. More on that tomorrow.

But for now, I thought I would play around a little with one of my favorite bits of prose of all time- that amazing "Choose Life" sequence from one of my favorite movies, "Trainspotting". You know the one. If not, read it here. It was a great comment on society and a generation gone mad. 

So as I'm deep in that 40s zone now, my vantage point is quite possibly more cynical than ever, but more in a poking fun kind of way than an "I hate the world" kind of way.  There is so much crazy stuff happening it's worth noting a few things that choosing life entails nowadays. So here's my little riff on that epic rant from back in the day:

Choose life. Choose a shared work space. Choose a career with a slash in it. Choose frozen eggs. Choose a fucking smart phone, smart thermostat, smart refrigerator. Choose all appliances that are smarter than you are. Choose $900 a month dance classes, choose gluten free, choose to not eat carbs and wave away the bread basket in disgust. Choose living in a van and Instragramming it. Choose friends that make you feel insecure because they're so accomplished. Choose the Hudson Valley over Montauk. Choose yoga pants from Bandier and wear them all damn day. Choose any of the real housewives, even though New York is the best. Choose luggage with a vintage appeal. Choose Gucci. Choose Vetements. Choose a babouche. Choose a backless loafer. Choose to feel hopeful because of couture. And Celine Dion. Choose a fixer upper with great bones.  Choose to listen to the Talking Heads with a smack of irony. Choose the 80s. Choose the 90s. Choose to obsessively watch memes of Trump shaking hands. Choose well how did I get here? Choose binge watching. Choose vaping. Choose rose, frose, and poo shaped pool floaties. Choose fillers over Botox. Choose to go with your gut, then be afraid of your gut, and choose something else. Choose working from home, and then resent it. Choose WeWork and then resent that. Choose naming your children after vegetables or fallen rock heroes. Choose flowy fabrics and embrace gender fluidity. Choose air bnb, as long as there's good products in the bathroom. Choose googling everyone and everything you've ever met or known. Choose rock and roll spin classes because it somehow makes it ok. Choose midcentury modern all day, every day.  Choose brunch. Choose avocados. Choose chia seeds. Choose eating like Tom and Gisele. Choose mom jeans even though nobody really looks good in them. Choose dry shampoo. Choose cushion compacts. Choose surfing. Choose an overwhelming amount of skincare and skinceuticals. Choose magical dusts of all kinds. Choose perennial self identification as edification. Choose meditation. Choose bikinis that look great on Instagram. Choose Goldendoodles, Labradoodles, and doodles of all kinds. Choose to read the print edition of the New York Times, but only on Sundays. Choose Matcha.  Choose leaning in, standing up, and running with blinders on. Choose hip hop that makes no sense. Choose to shit on Coachella . Choose selfies and Facebook Live and Instagram stories. Choose singing and dancing in your car like everyone's watching. Choose to embrace your body type. Choose puppies. And kittens. And baby goats. Choose fake news.  Choose to not worry about OJ getting out of prison. Choose Soho House, Ludlow House, Neue House. Choose first world problems, then laugh about them, then cry about them. Choose to resist in silence. Choose from a million gazillion things but most of all, make good choices. Choose to hate all of the above, choose to hate yourself, and then choose to love yourself all over again. Then choose to be a life coach.  Because this is the life you chose. Choose life. 

SNAP SNAP SNAP.

Of course, the original rant ends in Renton choosing heroin. Because why would he choose life when there's heroin? Don't worry, I'm not choosing heroin. But I am amazed at how much worse this rant has become since that movie first came out in 1996. Trainspotting 2 came out recently and there's a whole new list, but this is my list, from my uniquely situated vantage point halfway there. Somewhere. Anywhere. This is where I'm at with how ridiculous we've all become, present company included. I don't choose everything on this list, but Lord knows I'm guilty of much of it.  This whole little diatribe was spurred by an insane article in the Independent about Tracy Anderson's $900 a month gym on the Upper East Side, which made me feel sick to my stomach. Who and why? Read it here. And then choose life. Although after reading this piece, heroin seems like a pretty good idea. We've clearly lost our edge.   Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down...

Cause that's what's up this slightly (more than slightly) cynical birthday in the 718. Yours, in choosing all the choices and them some, because Lord knows this list could go on forever. Same as it ever was, and once in a lifetime. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1173024 2017-07-13T19:04:56Z 2017-07-15T14:02:04Z In praise of defiance: Five things I learned from Jimmy Iovine and Dr. Dre

Good afternoon, Thursday. I've had a fun day and excited about some new opportunities.

So I've been watching the incredible series, "The Defiant Ones", on HBO and I'm incredibly inspired by the stories of Dr. Dre and Jimmy Iovine, two music industry heavyweights who are living legends. The four part series tells the tale of both dudes, in their own words, with plenty of appearances from the music industry's biggest stars like Eminem, Gwen Stefani, Ice Cube, and many others. If you listened to music in the 90s, you were most likely listening to something from Interscope or Aftermath. And even earlier, their contributions to pop music and culture are indelible. I love that both guys were creatives first, and business people later. I think that creativity informed some of their best decisions. It shows you how important the creative mind is when it comes to business. For those of you who think you can't make that switch, consider watching this and realize how useful all of that artistic juice is for the boardroom or C Suite or starting your own thing. I have always thought of myself as rebellious and defiant in my ideaology- I'm so glad HBO put this on the air. It gave me real hope and fired me up.

So I've been watching and learning a lot this week about what it takes to be a huge success from these two guys.  I see this kind of tenacity and drive coming from the tech world, but in the creative world? I just don't know. We need more of these defiant ones to come forward and run the show. I for one am starved for defiance- everything has gotten a wee bit too safe- perhaps it's because we live in such perilous times. All I know is I want to be inspired again by the work we do and the creative world we live in.  Regardless of whether you're the next Dr. Dre or the next Steve Jobs, here's some takeaways from this brilliant series on how to work it like a gdamn boss:

Remember where you came from- This goes without saying. I love that Jimmy Iovine, an Italian kid from Red Hook, Brooklyn and Dr. Dre, an African American man from Compton, had beyond humble beginnings. They were not given a single thing but one thing they both did have- a supportive family. Dre's mom (a single mom) did everything to encourage his success, and Jimmy credits his dad with being his very best friend. Even if you don't have that, respect your origins- humble or not. There is no way they have not contributed to who you are today. 

Never, ever give up- On yourself. Or on those you believe in or who believe in you. I love how Iovine never stopped believing in himself, Dre, and any of the many risky ventures that he was part of. He was absolutely relentless, often sitting in his bathroom for hours on end, on the phone, pursuing the artists and deals he knew would be a big success. You can't give up. Maybe stop chasing what doesn't matter and focus on what does, but don't ever give up.

Give the people what they want, before they know they want it- Both Dre and Iovine had that Spidey sixth sense for how culture affects the music we listen to- in the golden age of 90s music, it was all about anger and aggression- coming out of the Reagan years, the LA riots, and a move to something dark and angry- think grunge and beyond. Both of these guys are the best fortune tellers out there- they know what you want before you want it. Thus the Beats deal. See what's happening in culture and mass media and get far ahead of it. I love when Iovine talked about the death of the record industry and how Napster sank the whole game- instead of getting under the covers, he met with Steve Jobs, learned a lot, and made one of the biggest deals in history. Stellar. This one feels particularly relevant to people in advertising, by the way. it gets harder to do, but the best stuff is forward focused. We spend a lot of time reacting to every blip in culture, but if you can move past that and see how all of these blips contribute to something more seismic in the future, you're going to turn good into great.

Trust that gut and find your tribe- In my own career, when I've paid close attention to my instincts, I've achieved success. When I don't, it's a whole other thing. I love that Iovine always knew who would be big stars- from Springsteen to Trent Reznor to Gwen Stefani and of course, Dr. Dre. It's a whole lot easier to go with your gut when you are collaborating with people you feel super connected to, who have the same work ethic, values, and creative DNA. Find your tribe and you can't lose. Eminem and Dre have one of the best partnerships in history- because they're both in your face,  tenacious maniacs who can't and won't stop.

Put your blinders on- This was my favorite takeaway from the series. Iovine mentions that if you spend your time watching what everyone else is doing and worrying how it relates to what you're doing, you'll fail.  He says that when you want something, put your blinders on and run as fast as you can. If you don't, those other ponies may trip you up and you may just be out of the race. So stop watching everyone else's back and don't stop until you get what you want. Great advice. That's the true definition of a defiant one- single vision, f the rest. Love.

As I continue to assess my own career, I'm taking all of this to heart. What an epic series depicting one of the greatest successes of music history. I highly recommend watching this four parter- incredibly inspiring for anyone who is looking for ways to make fearless changes and follow their passion. 

What's inspiring you of late?

Cause that's what's up this straight outta Brooklyn kinda Thursday right here in the 718. Yours, in defiant ones, and staying in the race. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1172763 2017-07-12T12:41:37Z 2017-07-12T12:41:37Z Maven pick: Amore Pacific's Cushion Compact

Hey now Wednesday. Happy Hump Day. It's sticky outside and I'm all Scarlett O'Hara- as many of you know heat and humidity are truly not my jam. Though I love the longer daylight and exposed toes, I'm not going to be mad at Fall when it comes. Fall's more for me, although I'm excited to go to the beach this weekend.

So how many of you take advantage when you get a sample in your online order from Blue Mercury or wherever you buy your beauty goods? I love them, actually. Sometimes the perfume samples are not for me, but I love free makeup samples, even if it's just to experiment a bit and not meant for leaving the house.

On the suggestion of my dear friend and hair stylist extraordinaire, I finally ordered some of Charlotte Tillbury's Magic Cream- a cult favorite for glowy, lovely, youthful skin. As I opened my package, I found quite a few samples (ordered the cream from Bloomingdale's online), and a new Maven pick was born.

Not sure how many of you are familiar with the cushion compact- it's popular in Korea and made its way stateside a minute ago and I was curious about trying it. So I was pleased to say a very generous sample of Amore Pacific's Age Correcting cushion compact- the sample has about 5 different tones so you can best match your skin. And it did not disappoint.

I'm a bit of a cool and warm skin tone so I first tried the medium with pink undertones, then the medium with yellow undertones. Oh my gah. I love this product. Both tones worked well for me.

The cushion compact has a built in sponge for easy application (though you could use your foundation brush if you don't like that idea) and I absolutely love the light coverage this foundation provides. I do love tinted moisturizer in the Summer months but the compact provided a lovely even skin tone, covered up a burst blood vessel on the side of my nose, and gave me an amazingly perfect finish that does not cake and is super smooth. I put some powder over it for sweatproofing, and we'll see how that goes once I step outside in an hour. Plus it has an SPF in it, which is good news for those of us trying to protect our necks. 

I love this new discovery, though, and I highly recommend giving it a try. They sell it in a travel size at Sephora (though a bit of a different formula)  if you're not into committing to a full sized product, but I'm a big fan and will absolutely be using it again and most likely buying it. Oh and another semi pro recommend- get yourself some face oil and apply it before you do your makeup. It really helps with application and keeps everything glowy yet smooth.

Just a hot little tip on this hot little day. Cause that's what's up this well cushioned Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in compact solutions to every day problems. And try those samples for sure, you just never know what may be come your new favorite thing.  XO


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1172445 2017-07-11T14:34:40Z 2017-07-15T04:33:15Z Five trends I've spotted this Summer in the city

Good morning Tuesday. It's gloomy outside and I want nothing more than to just stay in and read my new book. (Chuck Klosterman's X in case you were interested).

Thought I'd share some Summer observations going on around the city- for those of you who live here you've no doubt seen them too, and for those who don't, here's the scoop on what's hot this Summer besides the temperature:

Jay Z's new album is everywhere. If a car window is open in Brooklyn, you're most likely going to hear a track from Jay's 4:44. I love this record and am so happy Jay is back- I missed him. We were so in need of a Summer soundtrack, and this is absolutely it.

Summer denim. I'm seeing girls in denim all over the place and while the thought of jeans in the heat repels me, I'm liking the trend towards non stretchy non skinny denim- think a high waisted 501, faded, and cropped. Same applies for shorts- go high waisted with a vintage wash. This look is tough to wear I'm not gonna lie- but it's everywhere so get used to it.

Matcha. This one not so new but loving iced matchas over iced coffee these days. My fav is at Intelligentsia in the Highline Hotel. It's prettier than coffee brown in the loveliest shade of green and gives you a good boost. Nice alternative to coffee.

Frose. There's a spot in my neighborhood serving frozen rose, spiked with watermelon and complete with a salted rim. Who on Eearth could say no to that? Yum. Grown folks slushies. I don't hate them.I would like to, but I can't.

White sneakers with sundresses. I've seen this everywhere and it's not a trend I can pull off. Sneakers with a dress is so cute but not a great look for me- still seeing tons of Stan Smiths, Gucci, and cute new line the Greats. Trick is to keep the sneaker fairly minimal- very practical look for city girls. 

As a bonus, I was very happy to spot a cute chick the other day sporting a white ribbed tank, low slung black trousers and all white Pumas. It was so very 90s and I adored it- I see no signs of our current love of all things 1990something slowing down. And I love it. Ooh and extra bonus- quickly becoming obsessed with HBO's "The Defiant Ones", a multi-night documentary on Jimmy Iovine and Dr. Dre. It's so so inspiring and love the way these two work and create. Must see if you're a music or general fan of the creative process and pop culture.

So there you have it- just a few things I've spotted this Summer and wanted to share with you. What's trending in your neck of the woods? Send me a note if you have some thoughts at sherimaven@gmail.com.

Cause that's what's up this trendy Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in Summer fun. XO







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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1171347 2017-07-07T15:27:02Z 2017-07-07T22:05:35Z Why I don't have kids: I blame the 70s

Good morning, little Friday. It's raining on the prairie here in Brooklyn and I'm happy to be WFH today. Thank goodness there's a few things happening to keep me busy. I'm grateful.

So I was walking home from barre this morning and thinking about motherhood. Yea, I was. Really.

I live in a neighborhood that is full of young families, I mean- bursting at the seams with them. Should you require a new method of birth control, you should move to Cobble Hill. And I'll leave that there.

I've been asked from time to time why I never wanted children or if I ever wanted them. I don't mind the question at all because the answer is simple- I never wanted them. In fact, it's rarely occurred to me. I just feel very much myself without children and I'm super fine with that. I was never a camp counselor, I never played with baby dolls, and was not much for babysitting.  I rarely thought about motherhood as a child, because I was too busy thinking about prancing around Morocco or New York City or Paris. I swear that's the truth. Not much for white picket fences, really.

But what made me think of motherhood was a flashback on a toy I used to play with all the damn day when I was a young lady. I think I've talked about my Barbie obsession, but Tiffany was my basic bitch back in the day. Who is Tiffany you may ask? You may want to watch her amazing commercial here. Oh the 70s. I love the 70s. I want to swim in a 70s pool all day. I'm aware that pool may be full of some weird stuff with all that fairy dust, but I'm ok with that. But back to Tiffany.

Tiffany is fabulous. And a stone cold fox. As the commercial says, she's who you want her to be. Her hair was either dark or blonde, depending on what mood she was in. She wore a jumpsuit or sparkly dress (dressed in a gown for a party in town) because she was always ready to party. And the best part about Tiffany Taylor?  She lived in a bloody penthouse in the city, complete with a sexy stereo system and the ability to change the view from day to night. Sure it was Tuesday Taylor's penthouse but in my world Tiff was all up in there. Naturally she was a New York lady in my imagination, as I endlessly pored through my mother's magazines to get a glimpse into that seductive world. I loved my penthouse more than life itself- endless hours pimping out Tiffany, switching up her hair, placing her on her balcony catching some imaginary rays, striking soigné moves on her spiral staircase, having dinner parties with her other pals, my Charlie's Angels dolls. 

They were amazingly stylish in neck scarves, wrap topped jumpsuits, and high boots. I would wear that right now, ps. 

This was the life I created for my girl Tiffany, so it's no surprise this is how my life sort of ended up, or at least my aspirations remain the same. Truth- I don't live in a penthouse or have the ability to switch hair color in a blink (though I would). But my point is as many girls my age were feeding their dolls bottles, I was hanging with Tiffany in her penthouse, though occasionally she'd drive off in her Barbie Corvette. It's not lost on me that Tiff's imaginary life is altogether more fabulous than mine- but we have one thing in common- we're both city girls who love a good soiree and we definitely don't have children. In my childhood fantasies, Tiffany had a boyfriend (there was a dude in a brown turtleneck I believe that was meant to hang with her), and in reality, I did end up with a pretty lovely husband. I think we should get a Corvette though, since the penthouse is looking less likely. Incidentally, my last pad in Brooklyn had a very groovy spiral staircase. So there's that.

I know it's hardly a throwback kind of day, but had to put that out there. Even as a wee one, I guess I knew what I wanted. Funny how that's often the case. Cause that's what's up in Tiffany's penthouse in the best city on Earth. Yours, in inner children and 70s glam. Party at the penthouse.  XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1170953 2017-07-06T12:58:32Z 2017-07-10T15:59:47Z Are you there, Tinsley? It's me, Sheri

Good morning, Thursday. It's gloomy outside and I'm very much in chill mode, but need to be in work mode.

So lately I've been posting about my redefinition, how to get that, my fear of change, my goals, etc. I feel like I've been a bit hoof in the headlights of late, and I'm slowly starting to feel that all clear. But truly, no matter how confused, vexed, or frustrated I get, I have bigger concerns. Because I'm deeply worried about Tinsley Mortimer, and that's the truth. The more wine she drinks, the more nervous I become. Homegirl is positively untethered.

If you are a Real Housewives of New York fan, you've no doubt noted the presence of one Ms. Mortimer this season. Society stalkers will most likely recall Tinsley's original "it girl" status in New York back in the day- she of the curling iron curls and doll parts. She was pretty much the toast of the town, until she ended up on an ex's lawn on Palm Beach accused of trespassing. Seems she's trying to claw her way back into New York life, and damn if she is not just the most fragile bird with a blowout of all time. And she's dancing as fast as she can.

I've oft fantasized as well as obsessed about the life of a fallen heiress. The seclusion, The Garbo glam of it all, the poor little rich girl mystique. But not when it comes to Tinsley.   You can just look at her and tell she's trapped in some former version of herself, still milking that hair, those sorority girl get ups, the whole lot of it. Plus, there's that pesky drinking situation while on antidepressants.  I'm not judging the poor lass but truly- going up against vipers like Bethenny Frankel can't be easy week after week and taping after taping. I'm worried about you, Tins. You need to get it together, girl. Put down the fake lashes and move on. And when Bethenny takes you to the Bronx for some bolognese, don't dress like it's rush week at J. Crew U, even though you still like to make out with men fresh out of Vanderbilt. Truly she is not my brand of socialite- I tend to like the more exotic jetset classics of yore like Marisa Berenson, Nan Kempner, Carolyn Roehm- even the stealth drunkenness of Pat Altschul on "Southern Charm". I live for her. You may not know who these people are, but I've always been fascinated by society chicks. I also think the life of Tinsley could be an excellent musical- has all the makings. I'd queue up for that one.

Listen, I'm not making light of her problems. But as I contemplate this vast amount of change coming my way whether I like it or not, I think of poor Tinsley, and realize I may not be in as bad shape as I think I am. It's a sick form of entertainment watching someone self combust on reality TV, and I'm rooting for Tins to turn it all around, get an edgy new haircut, move to Brooklyn, and fall in love again, perhaps with a more "normal" sort who will love her without the baggage of a pedigree. 

I'm worried about my Summer plans, or lack thereof, and I'm also worried about Tinsley. And chance are, if you've been watching the latest episodes of RHONY, you are too. For if there is anyone in need of a change, it's that gal. If I had the chance to style her, I'd absolutely go more Kate Moss/Marianne Faithfull and get her a good bit more rock and roll glam- she's been through some shit, she needs to wear that with pride and stop dressing like a wedding cake topper. And she definitely needs to unplug that look. Strip it down. Tough it up.  I'm hopeful. Maybe as I figure out my own shit, she'll figure out hers. 

Cause that's what's up this Park Ave Princess of a Thursday not on Park Avenue. Not even close. Cause that's what's up this real housewife of a Thursday in the 718. Yours, in displaced concern and broken dreams. Pick up the phone, Tins. I'm calling you, girl. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1170597 2017-07-05T12:27:21Z 2017-07-05T12:27:21Z I'm still ok. And that's ok too.

Hi, Wednesday. I thought I'd share this post that just popped up on my Facebook feed from last year. It still fits. Consistently ok. I like it. 

Hope you had a wonderful 4th- I kept it close to home and was amazed at how many of you on social own red, white, and blue clothing, giant pool floaties, and an endless supply of bikinis. Oh, and of course, rose. DUH.

Cause that's what's up this still ok kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in keeping in real. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1170278 2017-07-04T12:15:51Z 2017-07-04T12:15:51Z On wanting more

Happy Fourth of July to all. I'm not in the most patriotic of moods, but I do love a BBQ so who can complain? I can. Ha.

So recently I was walking through my neighborhood and noticed a new business coming to Court Street, on the site of a cute clothing store that clearly could not make the rent any longer. I hate how small business is being shut out of my neighborhood, but that's not why I'm writing. I'm writing because I always get excited for new retail, because maybe it could be something I'm really craving here in Cobble Hill- somehow always praying for a really good vegan place or something (not vegan but love the option) but alas- never comes.

As I peered in the window I saw the sign- it was announcing a new bakery (so many bakeries here already) and alas- the sign promised the following: "MORE THAN JUST A BAKERY". Huh?

I feel like I'm channeling the baby of Seinfeld and Andy Rooney here, but seriously- what is with businesses and people needing to be "more than" they are lately? I'm happy for a bakery to be just a bakery. That's truly good enough for me unless magically you really are providing more somehow- like curing Cancer or telling the future. I suspect that's not the case for this place that will most likely offer halfway decent croissants. Be happy with that. Be in that. Why offer more if you're really not, well, more?

I wrote a long time ago about how brands nowadays feel the need to somehow be more than. I agree that a civic and social minded brand is a better brand in most cases, but sometimes I just want my toilet paper to be my toilet paper. I don't need toilet paper with a conscience or sense of humanity. I'm tired of this promise of "more" when it's really not more. Just be good at your thing and make that enough. Why must everyone and everything feel the need to give more?

Kidding aside, this notion of being more than is a pandemic in our society. We've reached full tilt when it comes to what's expected of us. We need to be more. We want more. We need more skills. More toys. More beach time.More Instagram followers. More shoes. More likes. It's no longer enough to just be who we are, and I think that's sad. I for one am always looking for ways to do more, but maybe what I need to be doing is focus on doing a bit less, and just perfect those things? Somebody said once less is more, did they not?

I'm not sure when our obsession with more took over- we are far past Gordon Gekko and many have railed against the notion of more by retreating to tiny houses and living out of vans. I'm not necessarily talking about "more" in the materialistic sense though. I'm just talking about the need to always offer more than what you can do or offer. It seems so ludicrous to me.

Plus right now we are living in an unprecedented America where a bloated orange man baby alien feels the need to tweet with the reckless abandon of a nuclear cyclone who never quite grew up. And that's the thing I guess- I do need more. But it has nothing to do with a "croissants and" moment or more from myself. I want more from my country.

More morality.

More kindness.

More tolerance.

More respect.

More opportunities.

More compassion.

More humility.

More caring.

More empathy.

More tools to cope with this current regime.

I want more people to speak up against this scourge. That's what I want more of on this Fourth of July. I want to get back to more of what it means to be a good American, human, friend, neighbor. All of that. I don't want croissants or toilet paper that offers me more than what they are, but what I want more of is this country to heal and get well. Because as Americans, we deserve more. I truly believe that. And we're more than this administration. As Americans, we should simply want more from our leaders and for those in power. Don't be distracted by the "more" that doesn't matter. It matters that we take the power of more and make things right.

Because you and I both know we don't need another pastry plus.

Cause that's what's up this wanting more from America kind of 4th of July in Brooklyn. Yours, in more, more, more. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1169995 2017-07-03T13:23:42Z 2017-07-03T13:23:42Z Maven recommends: An affordable self tanner combo for staycation types

Good morning, Monday. How weird is it when the Fourth of July falls on a Tuesday? Completely throws off the long weekend vibe somehow with the Monday in between that some of us don't know what to do with- is it a work day? Can't really tell but since we are nowhere near the beach this weekend (I hate the crowds and traffic), I thought it a good time to bring up my favorite new discovery when it comes to self tanner.

I'm somehow an expert on all things self tanning- it's been a long time since I've allowed myself to fry in the sun because I'm terrified of ruining my skin. But Lord knows I look better with a little color so I moderate my exposure (I do let myself sit in the sun a bit of course) with some self tanning goodness.

I've tried them all but was thrilled to find my fav new one- loving the L'Oreal Sublime Bronze tan towels right now for lazy people who want a quick and easy way to tan- I get the Medium because I like to be fairly bronzed and the light is too pale for me. I then follow up when I'm less than lazy with the Jergens Natural Glow firming moisturizer (applied daily after showering)  which also has a bit of self tanner in it, though I will admit I don't love the smell of it.  I do like the gentle bit of lift it gives as well as a nice overall glow. And after reading a recent piece on Racked, I'm curious to try James Read's tanning balm, though I've had less success with some of his other products in terms of idiot proof application. I don't like tiger stripes you know. All in all, I'm loving my new sunless combo- my tan looks even and not orange at all- just a nice bronze glow.

Some of you are getting a tan the natural way this weirdly long weekend, for the rest of us, there's some great self tanners out there to help you along. Pleased that my tan is available at my local CVS- it's just slightly cheaper than a weekend in Montauk.

Cause that's what's up this self involved Monday in the 718.  Yours, in faking it until I bake it, and then getting back in bed. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1169181 2017-06-30T15:57:14Z 2017-06-30T15:57:14Z Best of times, worst of times, or just time?

Good morning, Friday. It's been a week- lots of ups and downs but I can't thank you all enough if you reached out to me after the last post- your support means the absolute world.

It's hard to think about but these are treacherous times, particularly in the business I grew up in, advertising. I'm not sure there's more security in full time work in that arena than there is in freelance life. It feels unhinged, and since advertising is often a barometer for the times in which we live (at its best), I suppose it makes pitch perfect sense- I watch the news with shock every single day. What happened yesterday with Trump's tweets are so beyond anything I have ever associated with an American President, or moreover, a leader of any kind.

I can't help but wonder what would happen if this was the corporate world- would he not be fired by now for all of his disgusting and distasteful attacks? How is this allowed to go on?

Everything feels unsteady, wheels well on their way to calling off. I'm afraid we're headed for significant blowout. 

As for me, I'm putting myself on a bit of notice. I need to figure out how to sustain my passion for writing but I also need to make a living. I'm worried that Trump is somehow making it acceptable to be a complete asshole. And if there is such a thing as a trickle down situation, I'm more than worried about how all of this plays into business practices. We all have to be better than this. I have to be better than this. And so do you. It's time for a change. Remarkable to me that this country elected Trump because apparently we wanted change. So much has been written about the power of change, but how about when it doesn't feel so hot? Maybe change is not always good?  Or maybe bad changes somehow make us better in the long run? That's a bit of American optimism right there. 

My point of this little rant is that the amount of change happening is unfathomable- leaps and bounds bigger than it's ever been- positively seismic. I need to find my place within it, but right now I'm fidget spinning my way into the Summer and would like very much to find friends and coworkers and inspiration in the good that I know is still out there, somewhere.

I guess what I'm saying is that I feel everything is connected, and I'm trying to navigate some very tricky waters right now, personally and professionally. Some of you may not be feeling any of this, and some of you may be feeling it in spades. Regardless, how will we get through all of this deep uncertainty? For me, I'm going to do everything I can to get ahead of what I see as an inevitability- I'm being forced to question everything of late and I'm still in an inquisitive mood, though I hope the answers come soon. I hate to feel unsettled and uncertain but if you too are going through a big transition, maybe we all need to revel in the unknown and not fear it. I told somebody that very recently, and I suppose I need to take my own advice.

So in such weird times, I'm holding on tight and trying to fasten my seatbelt slightly tired. I have a feeling it's going to be a bit of a bumpy ride, but I'm hopeful I'll get there. I'm very much a "right now" kind of girl, so this feeling of in between is not ideal for me.

Cause that's what's up this having a little faith kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in keeping it together, or trying to. By the way, I'm open to suggestions. Feel free to reach out if you too are trying to weather the storm or have come out the other end- better, stronger, and whatever else. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1168088 2017-06-27T13:53:00Z 2017-06-28T08:29:48Z On career shifts and that inevitable New York question

Good morning, Tuesday. I slept in a bit this am and skipped yoga just because. Khan snuggled up next to me is all the down dog I'll be getting today. Oh well.

So lately I've been obsessing about career moves. (What else is new?)

I live in a city where everyone's first question is inevitably "what do you do?" It's beyond strange how forward that feels and how in other parts of the country and the world, it's not necessarily the first thing out of one's mouth when meeting someone new. But this is New York, and our equity as humans is tied very tightly to how we make a living. Perhaps this has changed a bit with the advent of the gig economy, but still- everyone wants to know just how you can afford to live in this crazy place, and that's the truth.

For many years as you know, I've been a producer. And I'm not being boastful, but I'm good at it. I just am. I know how to solve problems, I've been doing it forever, and I respect great ideas and try to give them the integrity they deserve when I come up with a plan to produce or make things. So it was always easy for me to answer the above question- I'm a producer. Of photography primarily, but I can do other things. That was always my default answer.  And I could say this with a great deal of conviction because that's what I did, and it was easy to explain. But it was the other part of the answer that always tripped me up- those "other things". Because deep down I knew that "just" producing was not a full picture of what I did, or what I aimed to do. It's no knock on producing mind you- Lord bless the sorry lot of us who have worked in production for most of our careers- it's not an easy job in the least and the stress is off the charts. 

So cut to now.  To be perfectly honest, the work is not quite as steady as it should be. As a freelance producer, I was busy for years and years and loving it. But lately, it feels like the freelance well is running a bit dry- many in the ad game who do what I do are diversifying- by learning how to produce video, digital, experiential, you name it. I'd be happy to do those things I guess but if you've been reading this blog you know my true love is writing. So why do I have such a hard time calling myself a writer? In the age of social media influence, can't we be whatever we want? So why in such a creatively democratic age is this such a struggle? 

I'm sure there's a number of reasons for it. First, New York City is bursting with writers. It's kind of writer central. Some of the best writers in the world live here, and have been writing professionally for possibly longer than I've been alive- it's an elitist world in a way and super hard to break into. Second, writers are not my tribe. What I mean by that is I have surrounded myself with ad people, photographers, and those that are in my primary career sphere forever. I find myself uncomfortable around groups of writers, but perhaps that's my own intimidation. I know I need to start connecting with other writers in order for me to become the best I can be as well as make a living doing it. Case in point- this weekend I did birthday dim sum for a friend's 40th at one of those crazy dim sum halls in Chinatown. She happens to be an accomplished food writer, and at the party, there were lots of writer types. As we ate endless dumplings, the question of "what do you do" came up, as it always does, but in a bit of a different way. Instead, the question was "How do you know Gabriella? Are you a writer too?" Oy.

My husband looked at me, waiting for my response. I squished my eyes a bit and said, "Well, kinda, not really, I don't know, can you pass the dumplings"?

There's confidence for you. Why was I so afraid to say I was indeed a writer? Is it because my primary way to pay rent is through my life as a producer? Or is it because I'm not yet convinced that I am said writer? It was a humbling moment for me, but one that bugged me. I guess I'm afraid of being a phony, a sham. In a city of so much talent, who am I to say this is what I do?

And further, why on Earth do I care what people think? After all, I take to this blog as much as I can and share as much as I can. I mean, I am a writer. I've been one since childhood. It's all I've ever really wanted to do. I took many paths away from it through the years and now here I am, back at it. I also think I'm somewhat traumatized by a lifetime in advertising, where you are put in silos in order to assess whose job it is to do what. There is a writer. There is an art director. There is an account person. A strategist type. A media person. A project manager. And of course, a producer.  It is so rare for people to move within these boxes- as much as agencies say they want people who have multiple skills, it's very hard to do more than one thing within the agency structure. Sure producers might cross media and work on video, digital, and whatever else, but damn if an account person is going to art direct a photoshoot. Or they better not try. Ha. 

Advertising is an industry of specialists, not generalists. I don't care what agencies tell you. That's the way it is and I see no sign of it changing. Sure people are tackling more as agencies hire less, but nobody likes it.  Producers produce. They are often asked now to be more client facing, but they're still producers. Everyone's being asked to do more, but it's still within their very narrow job description. The upside? It sure makes it easy to answer the New York question.  (I assume this is also an LA question, by the way. Though there, it somehow seems more normal to have many slashes in what you do- as in waiter/writer/producer).

My point is that all of this categorizing makes it easy to answer the WDYD question, but it does a bit of a number on you as well. I've been conditioned to think that writing should be left to the writers, because that's how the ad business works. They may tell you good ideas can come from anywhere, but they kind of don't mean it. It's a very territorial game, advertising. And I suppose I was never one for turf wars.

But now that my life in advertising seems to be slowing down, I'm trying to embrace that I am a writer, that I will be a writer, that I've always been a writer. I may not be living on what I make as a writer, but that's ok. I'm curious about the next time I get asked that dinner party question- how will I answer? It may be a while before I can say "I'm a writer" with any sense of conviction, but I'll do everything I can to get there. Sure I'll still produce projects, that's my left limb. But maybe my right limb wants a new move. Thanks to those who support and encourage me to keep going on this path. It means the world. I have never felt more drawn to reinvention than I do right now. Or in my case, rediscovery for a passion I've had my entire life.

Cause that's what's up this questionable Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in writing it all down. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1167778 2017-06-26T17:45:49Z 2017-06-26T17:45:49Z Maven pick: A scent to summon your inner child

Good morning, Monday. Hope you all had a lovely weekend- I went to see Dead and Co and even though Bob Weir now resembles Jerry Garcia, it's all good. Was a fun show out at Citifield where the Mets play and John Mayer was actually outstanding. Pleasantly surprised, ad was fun to relive some of the old mojo. Not quite ready to hit the road with them and sell Sierra Nevada out of the back of a van, but still a great show (though that option is not sounding bad, more on career stuff later this week).

Anyhoo, it's Summer (duh) and if you are like me, you switch up all kinds of stuff when it comes to beauty- a good toner becomes key amidst so much sweat and a less intense moisturizer for the face for instance. But first and foremost when it comes to Summer is fragrance. Or at least it is for me.

In the Summer my go tos have always been Kai and Calypso's Mimosa (my husband loves this one), and perhaps some Gypsy Water to boot. Oh and can't live without my Nuxe perfume- it literally smells like the best beach- a standout. But a recent peruse in City Chemists
(a BK fav) in Brooklyn Heights found me sniffing out something new; and it's called Child.  I am so happy I found it- have been on the hunt for a Summer scent and wanted it to just come to me. So my first reaction to this cultish scent?

Oh. Yum.

This is good stuff, ladies. It's got all the beautiful white floral notes for Summer- Jasmine, magnolia, mimosa but I also detect some vanilla and sandalwood which give it that good hippie child yumminess. Apparently, LA ladies have been wearing this scent forever, but now that it's here on the East Coast,  this is a quick Summer must have for smelling delicious. I tried the roll on which I love for a lighter feel in warm weather and I have been smelling my wrists ever since. The scent is intriguing because it changes and I love that- all iterations of it have been lovely so far. Fabulous dry down and suspect it smells slightly different on everyone which is lovely. I love the name too because the scent definitely has a young and fresh vibe- but is also a bit wild child to boot in such a pretty and feminine way, but not too girly at all, which I hate. I'm obsessed. Summer has a playfulness that suits the name of this scent, but its boho sophistication is all woman.

I love a seasonal discovery so thought I'd share it with you. It's so perfect for that free spirited feeling you want in the Summer time- I see wearing this with all white, a lovely tan, and inhaling myself until September. It's that good.

Cause that's what's up this sharing my scent knowledge kind of Monday in the 718. Yours in smelling good and feeling good. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1166526 2017-06-22T15:50:43Z 2017-06-22T15:51:32Z The power of Pink: Ways to rock my new favorite hue

Good morning, Thursday. It's so bloody beautiful out today. Hope you can soak in some sun and enjoy this gorgeous second day of Summer. 

So here's something you may or may not know about me- I love pink. It's a color that I'm enchanted by but honestly, I find it a bit tough to wear. Because for me, the best pink is Pepto pink, and try as I might, it doesn't look fantastic on me.  I look better in very pale pink or bright pink a la fuschia, but if you're game to embrace pink as a wonderful color for Summer and even going into Fall, have at it. It lights up the face and it's no longer super girly in terms of how you can rock it- I am madly in love with it. I liken the renaissance of pink (some call it millenial pink) to the new interest in rosy perfume. I always associated rose notes with a grandmom vibe, but now rose has been renewed and it's showing up in some of my favorite fragrances- from Frederic Malle' sPortrait of a Lady to Byredo's Rose of no Man's Land, it's unavoidable and absolutely decadent in the best of ways. And not in the least bit grandmom, unless your bubby is getting stopped on the street because she smells that good.  

And back in the day, pink always made me think of Molly Ringwald. Not even for "Pretty in Pink", but more for that fab look she rocked in the "Breakfast Club". Remember that fab pink scrubs top with the brown suede skirt and boots? I do. It was the most, and now that I'm a redhead again, I'm all kinds of about it. It must be all that rose I'm drinking too. Clearly I've got pink on my mind.

So here are five pink pieces/looks that I just adore. Pink can be punk in a way so don't be afraid of it's girly reputation- plus with a red lip it's pretty much the most divine thing ever. Check out my favorite pink things:

Tibi Pink suit- Loving what Tibi is up to of late- just got their lookbook for Cruise 2018 in the mail and it amazing. I kind of want everything. But a quick peruse through and found this divine suited look that feels so modern and cool- with the slouchy, relaxed vibe and pink hue, it means business but is soft enough to be pretty and fresh and perfectly appointed for the new pink I'm after. Lustworthy.

Oliver People's Sayer aviator frames- Spotted these last weekend up close and I've been dreaming of them ever since. I'm a coppery redhead these days so they go very well with my hair, and they are so beyond cool for beachgoing, citygoing, and daily life going. I'm obsessed with their outsized vibe and rose hue. So good. They don't look super pink here, ps. But trust.

Loeffler Randall Vera slide- Look at this sweet little shoe. Where oh where would you not wear these? Love them with a white shirt dress to cropped jeans to everything you own. Fabulous.

Bird Sophia poplin dress- This little number is a bit of a departure from pink, because it's more rose. I love this dress- saw it the other day in my local Bird on Smith Street and it's so pretty and fresh and great for hot weather. Plus it's a wearable hue good for most. Feminine in the best of ways. Wear with Portrait of a Lady and you'll most likely get a good bit of attention from the opposite sex. Just a vibe I get.

J. Crew Pink signet bag- Love this little lady for small bag lovers- so cute with white, denim, and love the idea of it with red. Such a cute bag to go with all your printed dresses for Summer too. And it's on sale, just as most of the other stuff I've written about today too. Bonus.

So in my mind, pink is the new power color and that's that. It's so lovely and I want all the things I wrote about today, so why not pick up some pink when thinking about color this season and beyond? Cause that's what's up this pretty in pink kind of Thursday in the 718. Yours, in pink power moves. XO




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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1165818 2017-06-20T15:47:11Z 2017-06-20T16:07:28Z New York apartment living (is a lot like life)

Good morning, Tuesday. It's hot out there, I'm so glad to be in here. So as a workman who came to fix a leak in my ceiling yesterday took an excruciatingly long dump in my bathroom, I realized something. New York apartment living is a lot like life. Too much perhaps.

We all live in places that reflect our tastes, income, and place in life. Our homes say a lot about us for obvious reasons- from the gilded tack of Trump Tower to Georgia O'Keefe's stripped down chic in New Mexico. But if you do or have ever lived in New York City and its environs, you know that living here is often a mirror into a carnival ride of emotions and moments and symbols. 

I have lived in many ways in New York City. Those apartments and habitats read like a list of discarded lovers.

I have lived in a one bedroom shared with a woman I did not know and slept on a futon for several years. This was my first experience living in New York, and the apartment was merely a vessel for all that I was to discover outside its walls. The space meant little to me; just as most things did back then- I did not particularly care about finding love, career success, or much of anything else except climbing into the woodwork of Manhattan. And that I did.

Many places followed- the first stint in Brooklyn, in a beautiful little jewel box on Bergen Street that felt like protection from the world when I needed it the most. Back then Brooklyn may as well have been the moon. But there were trees, and shade and children playing, and truly, that's all I needed. Until I didn't. New York living is indeed like a love- the smell of fresh paint seduces you, the promise of more closet space, the revelation of a garden. But suddenly, and just like that, you outgrow it, and then you move on.

I went back to the island of Manhattan some time later, to a studio apartment on the Upper East Side. It was small, and smelled of gas. But it was my first apartment on my own, and it was there I grew up a little. Much like your first grown up relationship, it may not be physically exactly what you're after, but it shows you stuff you didn't know you could see. Plus there was a decent diner downstairs and I was often comforted by their late night sounds of dishwashing and plate clanking. It provided a soundtrack of sorts for my very noisy mind at that time of life. 

After that there was Stuyvesant Town, another step in maturity that felt necessary. The apartment itself was truly a step up; a gift from some far off Apartment God who somehow connected me with someone whose family had been on that infamous list forever and wanted a subletter to keep the dream alive. I was living there during 9/11, and somehow its middle class hamlet vibe was what I needed at that time. There was green space, there was light. But there were very few subway lines nearby. And for that reason, I outgrew this place too. 

There were more places- a tiny apartment in Soho that felt more like a psych ward cell in a designer prison, and then there were spaces in Miami, and then, there was New York again. Another apartment, another love affair, another life ended, and another began.

Hello, Brooklyn.

We recently moved out of the apartment we had been in for just over five years. David found it for us and truly, it was perfection. Until it wasn't.

We had a yard. We had a duplex. We had two bathrooms. We were living in a posh neighborhood that felt leafy, perfect, beautiful. And as I came to rediscover the city and pursue my freelance career, this apartment tripped me up somehow. Because there was no light. Absolutely zero natural light. So even though on paper this apartment provided everything we needed including the bonus of not having to put on a bra to take Khan out to pee, it was dark. And that made us a little dark. Oh and all my clothes lived in a storage space across the hall. And we slept in a basement. That has to be a metaphor for something somehow.  And then our landlord sold the building, and we panicked. Because even though we were in the dark and our bed was in the basement, we were not quite ready to give this place up. But the universe had other plans I suppose.

So cut to now, where I'm living on a third floor walkup in the same glorious neighborhood, on a far more beautiful block. I know I've written about this place before, but this place. The most beautiful floors. Natural light. Tasteful kitchen.  But not without sacrifices. Because our second bedroom became my closet, to house all the clothes and shoes and stuff I've collected from this lifetime. And what does that mean? That we don't really have room for guests. Because my stuff needs a place to live. And I'm ok with that. Because right now, I feel a big breakthrough happening and perhaps I need my stuff around me- literally and figuratively to feel it out. Or maybe I just have too much shit. Either way.

But even though this apartment is lovely and sexy and super pretty, there are things. As there always are in New York dwellings.

What are those things? The mailbox system is confusing. I never know when I'm going to get mail and which mailbox it will be in. Hmm. The bathroom is right behind the kitchen, which is always a little weird. We're on the third floor and sometimes the steps make my knees ache. The constant construction makes me feel less like I’m in Brooklyn and more like Beirut. But then I look at my beautiful bedroom, so simple and light filled and lovely, and realize how wonderful this apartment is. Because I'm spending a lot of time here lately, working alone, going through this blog and trying to put together something of note to present to the world in the form of some essays, a book perhaps. And just as I'm consoling myself that everything's going to be alright, the guy who came to fix the leak in my ceiling disappears into my bathroom for an obscenely long time and makes me remember that there is nothing truly idyllic about apartment living in New York, particularly when you're renting. And just like life and sometimes love, all the beauty in the world can't protect you from a hot dump. And that's the truth. It's not enough to make me want to flee the premises of course, I'm holding on to this place for a good stretch. Because as a (ugh) grown up on the verge of yet another birthday next month, I'm well aware that there's always something there to remind us that life is not perfect, love is not perfect, we are not perfect.  I'm sure the gentleman who chose to assassinate my Aesop product filled bathroom had not a single thought of this situation, but somehow he was a reminder of how weird it all is- this life, this living, all of it. 

And truly, many of my friends have purchased their apartments and good for them. But we live in a city where you can't afford to commit, so that says something- we can only afford impermanence, or that's what most of us end up with, though we somehow make it our own. The transience of New York living is not lost on me. Many rent the same apartment for years and years, I tend to switch them out when I'm done with them. Love 'em and leave 'em I guess. It's funny- when people buy the first thing they do is tear down what exists- we renters learn to live with what we have, for better or worse. 

Let's hope today is dump free. Until it isn't.

Cause that's what's up this New York life of a Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in living, loving, and apartment dwelling. XO

 


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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1165385 2017-06-19T14:08:04Z 2017-06-20T07:56:39Z Is drinking Rosé really drinking? This maven wants to know.

Good morning, Monday. Hope you had a lovely Father's Day weekend- was missing my dad this weekend big time but was nice to wish a new generation of Fathers best wishes- lots of new daddies out there of late and that's a lovely thing.

So in other news, some of you who are readers of this blog work in advertising, as I have for the majority of my life. And in adland, no week is supposedly more important than the Cannes Lions- a week of debauchery, self congratulation, fist pumping, and an endless amount of rose. For those not indoctrinated (present company included- I've never been), it's a bit of a merde show- because everyone is partying on yachts, toasting their collective success, and sending a cringeworthy amount of selfies on Instagram and Facebook that will most likely have you reaching for a glass of something. It's a bit much. That's the truth.

But besides ad people, you've no doubt sipped on some rosé yourself the past couple years. What is it about this hot weather beverage that has us all in its clutches? Perhaps it's because of my theory- that eosé isn't REALLLLLY drinking. It's just not.  Because rosé? OK! That's how I react when someone asks me if I want some, but that's just me. I

For those of you who partake, you know exactly what I mean. One can consume veritable gallons of the stuff and somehow keep it together. Now let me be clear- I'm a good drinker. Meaning- I can drink quite a bit. I'm not necessarily proud of this, but it's true. Yea, I've had moments that have been no bueno when it comes to boozing, but it's only when I don't eat and that's the truth. Otherwise, I'm good to go. And go. And go some more. It must be that above mentioned career in advertising- Lord knows it's been a minute since the mad men days, but that profession is saucy. More than most, I suspect. I can remember many late nights in many places with many ad comrades. And we are a drinking lot. 

But back to rosé- or as a dear friend of mine calls it- "summer water". I go back and forth between drinking the more clear versions (for a moment we were all completely obsessed with almost clear rose) to the more pink versions, which in my mind are a Sancerre type rosé that is super delicious. The thing with rosé is that it goes down so easily on a hot day and is so pleasant to drink, there's really no reason not to drink it all day long. And yes, I love rosé the most for daytime drinking, when the sun's out. As an experienced imbiber, I would dub rose the session beer of the wine world. In fact, nobody I know has just one glass of rosé. It's poor form. It deserves your attention even though it's a fairly benign beverage. I have not experienced frose mind you- though many in the Hamptons are probably halfway into a slushy pink drink right now. And not sure how far reaching this trend is in the US- I know for sure it's super Eastern seaboard, but did not notice a ton of rosé out west (though I know some out in Napa are experimenting with it) , and when I went to the Delaware beaches last summer, the liquor stores out there had, gah, white zin. Non. Non. And non.

I'll admit- last Summer I was super over rosé and wanted nothing to do with it. Because in Barcelona I rediscovered gin and spent a summer sucking on Gin and Tonics- and to be clear, gin is not at all like rosé- too much gin and you're in big trouble. Trust me, I know. Gin will put a hurt on you, and me. It's delicious but not without danger. And I was happy to be craving the pink stuff as soon as it hit Memorial Day. I'm back to it. Because it's easy. And in my mind, far from gin and its unpredictability. Sure, rosé is a bit of a white girl cliché but I don't mind. Plus it's PINK. I know, right? 

So rosé- it's not really drinking per se. It almost looks like water. I'm not sure a ton of fistfights have resulted from drinking rosé, though I suspect that rosé fans are more lovers than fighters. And though I do like beer, particularly ice cold and when the sun's shining, I can't glug down a ton of beer at this point in my life. I'm not really down for a freshman 15 type vibe. At all. Though one of my barre teachers refers to the hips as the "rosé storage area". I don't disagree, but it's still not as bad as beer, and it's nowhere near as bad as margarita gut. 

So the takeaway from this post is this- rosé is good for you. I'm sure of it. You can drink it all damn day and the worst thing that could happen is you may get a little huggy/kissy or want to dance. Or maybe I'm just in denial and looking for any excuse to drink rosé. I thought for a moment, it would be on the wane this Summer but if you go in any liquor store in the New York metro area, it's front and center in the fridge, from light, light pink to a more vibrant hue. I'm sure my ad friends in Cannes are on a yacht right now, downing rosé as if tomorrow will never come. That's fine- because tomorrow is not so bad because rosé is not really drinking and open another bottle, s'il vous plait? IN closing I ask you cher readers, is drinking rosé really drinking? Let's pour some and decide. Yea I know. It's 10 am. But it's much later in Cannes.  And if you think it's really drinking, keep it to yourself. I'm happy to live in my denial and rosé tinted glasses. I'm good right there.

Cause that's what's up this pink hued Monday in the 718. Yours, in Summertime. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1164591 2017-06-16T16:43:11Z 2017-06-18T15:23:59Z Maven pick: A truly local French joint that delivers

Good late morning, Friday. it's a bit of a gloomer out there but I'm happy to be WFH. Now if only I could shut off CNN. So over it, but my need to know prevails.

So listen- living in New York is magical for many reasons, but the New York we all came up with has kind of hit the highway and turned the city into something a bit less charming. Bigger doesn't always mean better, and with many mom and pop businesses shuttering (old news) to make way for big box brands, life in New York can feel a bit generic at times. My vantage point from leafy Brooklyn tells a bit of a different tale- there's still charm to be had from these shady brownstoned blocks but you can't avoid the construction of high rises and chain stores moving in on this very sacred ground. In any event, I'm not one for nostalgia. Change is growth, regardless of whether or not you like it. But I stumbled on a perfect little resto the other night that reminded me of why I still love this city, for impromptu lovely meals in charming and unexpected places. 

I booked a table at Les Enfants de Bohème, a super cute spot way the f down on the Lower East Side, at that strange spot where it looks like the set of "Flight of the Conchords". The restaurant is on Henry Street, just around the corner from East Broadway. This is a neighborhood, that, although full of cute hipster types, is still deeply New York at its best- a petri dish of different cultures, particularly Chinese, whose presence in the area reminds me of when New York felt like the most culturally diverse place on Earth. But back to the food.

I was super in the mood for French food and charm the other night- it was a lovely, temperate evening in New York- the kind of night that is the perfect early Summer evening when the city feels welcoming and alive. A lovely French woman served us the most divine cocktails- mine was a watermelon vodka concoction and David's was a yummy bourbon and mint varietal. We ordered foie gras, we ate amazing cheese, and then we both had beautiful, fresh salads, mine with the most perfectly and simply prepared roasted chicken.  I did not have to close my eyes to imagine myself in Paris at that moment- the food replicated some of my favorite easy dinners when I was in France a few years back- particularly our fav little local spot, Café des Musées on the Rue de Turenne (not fussy and delicious food- memorable times there). The windows were all open to the street and I enjoyed watching life go by on a Wednesday night, and felt lucky to still have a great neighborhood standout like Les Enfants to celebrate the midweek point and enjoy a fabulous meal and satisfy my jones for French vibes at a fair price.

When New York gets on my nerves, and it often does, it's moments like that meal and that place and that sweet, weird little corner on the LES I appreciate. And just like that, I fall in love with New York all over again. I guess I'm easy. Just give me a good meal, a nice glass of wine or two, and a view of the city that still speaks to my soul. Highly recommend this cute little spot celebrating 2 years in biz- they were so sweet and the food was so, so good. If not here, keep looking for those little gems that make the city tolerable amidst so much major change. It's nice to know there's still some there here. New York is a wonderful mix of neighborhoods and cultures and there's nothing better than discovering a nice local spot when you're not all about seeing and being seen and such. Local is still alive and well here and I'm so happy about that. Happy to meet anyone of you there for a glass of wine and some great food.

Cause that's what's up this French inspired Friday in the best city in the world. Yours, in remembering what it's all about. XO



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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1164212 2017-06-15T12:49:58Z 2017-06-15T12:54:34Z So do you have it in you?

Good morning, Thursday. It's a nice one here in the big city and I'm happy to run amok. I've been thinking, as I often do, ok always do- about what's next for me. It's something you do as a freelancer/contractor quite often as you move through gigs and assess what's working and what's not.  I'm sure full timers do that too, but perhaps in a different way- it's just part of life when you work for yourself because you're constantly figuring out ways to be more efficient, more successful, more agile.

So it's no surprise going inward would be on the agenda when it comes to a bit of career soul searching. We've been told for years how important it is to love what you do, and with that refrain constantly in my head, it's kind of a bummer when you don't. There's moments, there's glimmers, there's times when I look around at the lovely people I get to work with and realize how lucky I am. But does it make my heart sing? Not really. Is that ok? Yea, it is. It's work. It can't be a lovefest all the time- I think that's a completely ridiculous expectation.

But here's what I do know. I was walking down the street yesterday, enjoying the scenery of my Brooklyn neighborhood, when it kind of hit me. This notion of what's in you. Or really, what's in me.

You know that expression- do you have it in you? 

For me, that phrase came into my brain and I chose to think about it for the rest of the afternoon. What's in me? What do I have in me? And how does that truly speak to what's inside, in my heart?

Here's what I came up with:

I know I have a book in me. It's clear as day- not the subject necessarily but that it's there at all. I've been writing on this blog for years- it's never been about becoming a famous blogger or anything like that truly. It's been a wonderful place for me to share all the things I think about and love and so on. Looking through the gobs of posts I've written,  there's truly a there there. And I know I have it in me to explore what all of these musings could become. It may not happen today, but it's going to happen. Because I've always had a book in me and I know it.

What else is in me?

A desire to get good and clear on my intentions. It's in me to clear the fat out of my life- the things I don't need, the people I don't need, all of that. 

It's in me to seek new ways to be healthier- mind and body. That's a big one.

And it's in me to work on projects with people I love, as a means to support my book and any other projects I may want to take on that feel all mine- maybe it's a dress line, maybe it's something else. I'm not sure, but what's in me right now is a desire to create on my own terms, and fully not for hire. I want to make stuff on my own, that speak to me, that speak to my own point of view. After a lifetime of orchestrating creative work (with other people's ideas), I feel it's time to create somehow. That's in me- though that one may take a bit more time to come to the surface but I know it's there.

So the question remains, fair readers, what do you have in you? Is it running a marathon? Working on your relationship? Learning to fly? I promise you if you ask yourself that question in the most honest way possible, you'll get some answers. And if you don't, you may need to do a bit more looking. Trust me, it's there. We all have something inside- and most of the time, it's the truth. It gets masked and hidden by daily life and all the external stuff we need to do to survive and pay our bills and whatever else. But take a minute while walking around the block or when you're in the shower or after a run or whenever and ask yourself if you have it in you. It's a relief to find out there's still something inside, it's listening to that where the real work begins.

Cause that's what's up this me to you kind of Thursday in the 718. Yours, in what's inside. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg
tag:sherimavenblog.com,2013:Post/1163517 2017-06-13T12:42:39Z 2017-06-13T13:06:38Z Maven pick: A jumpsuit that keeps its cool

Good morning, Tuesday. I'm pretty much not leaving the house today. It's too hot to trot, baby. Khan and I are happily hitched up at home and we're not going anywhere. 

You all know how hard it is for me to beat the heat. It simply doesn't work for me and I've got a major case of the vapors. I can't wait for this heat to break tomorrow, but all kidding aside, you need some fashion that works when the temps just aren't.

And I'm completely obsessed with this jumpsuit from my pals at Meg, a fantastic clothing line made right here in New York. I love the girls at Meg on Atlantic Avenue by my house, they are so helpful and positive- there's always a treat for the dog as well as adorable pieces perfect for all seasons. I like their pants very much and adore their dresses, but I love the way they cut a jumpsuit and have purchased a few of them over the years. This one may very well be my favorite. You can rock it in so many ways- with disco high heels or flat sandals and everything in between.

It reminds me of the very expensive one from Electric Feathers- the one I want but can't have. This little number has that harem vibe and love the low cut back and ability to remove the ruffle from the straps and rock it any way you want- and it's made of this crinkly linen that is so light and easy and looks great a bit rumpled so no need to worry about the whole linen thing. It's just the most and ticks the box for staying cool and looking cool all at once. It's loosey goosey and altogether lovely.

It comes in a few colors (love the mossy green) and although I don't see it on their website, it's absolutely in stores now so go in to a Meg near you (a few in the city and in Toronto too) and get this. It's too cute. Even when this heat is anything but.

Cause that's what's up this hot in the city kind of Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in yet another jumpsuit. You know you love it. XO

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Sheri Rosenberg