the world according to sherimaven

Good morning, Monday. The Super Bowl was not so super, now was it? The commercials were even worse. And let's not even discuss Adam Levine and his weird tank top. Awful, just awful.

So one of the joys about living in New York is that it's weird. In the best of ways. This city is full of eccentric people that provide a colorful approach to everyday life. That's one of the many reasons I love living here. It's just good weird. For me, living in Miami was bad weird. Or simply, not my flavor of weird. But New York? Yea, I get it. And I suppose my penchant for storytelling has a perfect outlet in a city full of so many stories. Here's one.

On Saturday, David and I decided to take the dog on a long walk through the neighborhood after a rather lazy morning at home. On our way out, we stopped to water my landlady's plants- we live in a brownstone owned by her family and she's on the garden/parlor floor. That's first floor for you non-Brooklyn kids. Anyway, she's been in Thailand for about a month and a half now with her recently college graduated son. Before she left, we promised to get her mail and water her plants, as good neighbors do. So Saturday we were in her apartment and the absolute weirdest thing happened. I'm standing there arranging some of her mail on the counter and tidying up a bit when I saw him. 

Moving across the hardwood floor was a turtle. Well, a tortoise upon closer inspection.

Now if you're not expecting to see an animal crawling across the floor, let alone a decent sized tortoise, you may feel like you're hallucinating. At least I did. And apparently I screamed to David "THERE'S A WALKING TURTLE IN HERE"! A walking turtle? I suppose in my shock I simply meant JesusChristheresaturtlewalkingacrosstheapartment but that's what came out. And then I ran out of the apartment. I suppose I got scared. I don't know why. But I did. Those legs and that hard shell and that extended neck freaked the f out of me. And of course, David was left to deal with it.

If you don't know our history or my husband's history with animals, it's epic. I'll never forget him freeing a pigeon from a frozen yogurt shop on South Beach, or accidentally murdering a possum which was masquerading as a rat at our home in Coconut Grove. Now it was a tortoise. So many questions.

How did it get there?

Why is there a tortoise in this apartment?

How the HELL did it get there?

Immediately I went upstairs and started calling everyone I could think of. I called my friend Talia who rescues dogs. No answer. I called 311, who asked me if the turtle was "vicious". Ummm. No.In that case, they would not come get him. I called a million animal rescues with specialties in exotics, none of whom work on Saturdays apparently. I called the ASCPA. I called Pet Smart, who did not know what to do with it. I called the guy who sometimes house sits for Khan, who keeps tarantulas as pets so I figured he might know what to do. Wrong. I asked my Facebook community and they all insisted he must belong to the home. 

Our landlady never, ever mentioned she had a pet ps. David was getting ready to adopt him or her. I began to think about life with a turtle/tortoise. How would Khan react? How would I tell him he'd no longer be the only pet in my life? How does one care for a guy or gal like this? And why did I feel so guilty that I really did not want to have him in my home? I love animals, but for some reason, this shelled creature was not one I could picture crawling around my apartment. But if he was a stray, of course we'd find a way to foster him, until we found him a proper, tortoise friendly home. David was feeling responsible for him somehow. I just wanted to know why and how.

And then David got in touch with someone (after I talked him out of releasing him into the wilds of Brooklyn) who said it's one of three scenarios:

1. The turtle belonged to the tenant.

2. The turtle belonged to the tenant and they lost it thus forgetting it was there.

3. Somebody put the turtle in the home on purpose.

It finally occurred to us to call our landlady's sister, who we send our rent check to. I was nervous to do that because A TURTLE IN THE HOUSE.

So David texted her asking if she knew anything about it and here's what she said:

"Oh yea. That's Bertram. He's lived there for 15 years. He lives under the radiator in the winter and comes out from time to time. And he's not a turtle. He's a tortoise".

BERTRAM. Could there be a better name for  a New York tortoise pet than Bertram?

Apparently he half hibernates in Winter so said landlady had no real reason to tell us of his existence. He doesn't really eat all winter, but how would we know that? Immediately I went out and bought him some organic butter lettuce to eat, which he devoured. David also fed him a house plant leaf because he was worried that he would starve to death. Then he worried he had poisoned him. OMG. The drama. Oh and the college grad what's app'd us from Thailand to tell us NOT to worry about him or even feed him.  Gone went the butter lettuce, even though he had eaten a bit of it. Maybe I need to hibernate for the winter. Excellent weight loss tactic.

Seriously though- who has a free roaming tortoise with the first name of an endocrinologist in their apartment (fun fact- Bertram was the name of my mother's long time endocrinologist)? And forgets to tell the people watching said apartment about him? Thus concluded the excitement for the afternoon. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally departed for our walk, relieved Bertram was not a homeless turtle that escaped from a local brownstone. A tortoise lives in Brooklyn. And he doesn't need our help. Only in New York, kids. Only in New York.

Cause that's what's up this wacky Monday in the 718. Yours, in hard shells and funny times. XO

Good afternoon, Friday and TGIbloodyF. It's been a long, cold week and looking forward to a chill weekend, including Super Bowl Sunday I suppose.

So sometimes I channel that aforementioned psychic/intuitive ability I mentioned the other day and then realize I want to share it will all of you. For instance, today I was watching CNN when they announced Cory Booker running for Prez in 2020. Admittedly, we've all been watching him for a minute and it's not a huge surprise. But damn if that field is not becoming overcrowded and hard to distinguish. And it just turned 2019.

Obviously we know this is a reaction to the polarization Trump has caused in this country. And everyone is ready to jump off the deep end. But a word came to me this morning and it's stuck with me all day. It whispered quietly in my brain as I watched the news and that word is/was "discernment".

Hmm. It's a popular word of late as we continue to explore mindfulness and intention and all of that fun stuff.  But truly, it's a perfect word for how I'm feeling. And I think I may smell a trend in the near future. Instead of too much we should probably go back to just enough. 

Take social media. Many people I know are opting out of Facebook and choosing to stay on Instagram and/or Twitter or whatever depending on what suits them. So instead of the constant bombardment of "like" culture, we are now choosing/discerning which networks are right for us, and which we can actually stand to look at.

Another reason discernment is top of mind is because I've been thinking a ton lately about finances and work and my relationship to both. As many of you know, I love stuff. But lately I've chosen to live with less, and buy a lot less of said stuff. Essentials only. Need vs. want. You name it. My shopping is becoming more discerning as I focus on building my writing business and simply because- I am so overstimulated when it comes to the constant barrage of "sale sale sale" and feed feed feed of clothes shoes whatever you want. Back in the day, people lived with less and it was way ok. Now because of fast fashion and our consumption addiction, we all have too much. And we buy too much. And as I get older, I want good things.  So because of that, it's all about less. And being mindful and discerning when it comes to what constitutes a true "must have".

And it's not surprising that this coordinates with the work I do- I'm trying to be more discerning about the work I take on, who with, and whether it's a step in the right direction, a means to an end, or just a whole lot of fun.  Kind of a quasi resolution of mine- choose wisely when it comes to work.  Oh and food. Of course, food. Just be more mindful of what I'm putting in my body in general.  It's really appearing (the d word) in every area of my life. So I need to trust it.

We are more than fortunate to have the choices we do. But when I look at things like a major election, it's hard to keep score. And as a nation,  I think we need to be alpha discerning when it comes to choosing our next President. So with everyone jumping in the pool, I can't help but worry about drowning. Drowning in options. Drowning in voices. And drowning in too much being, well, too damm much.

I'm not sure if any of you meditate-  I do on occasion but not nearly enough- but that word "discernment" is coming up for me hot and heavy as the work week comes to a close. How will you choose what to wear, what to do, and what to eat this weekend? You might want to give some of this stuff an extra think. Oh and that KKW lipstick the other day? I know. I don't need it. But being able to write about it was well worth it. 

Cause that's what's up this choosing wisely kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in- you guessed it. Discernment. XO

Good morning, Thursday. Needless to say, STAY WARM. OMG.

So I love to hate the Kardashians but in the past year or so I've warmed to them. I know it's weird. But I have. Perhaps it's the fact that they're a bit more mature- somewhat less bratty and perhaps I just somehow appreciate their cheeky family values, however fake they may be. But I've prided myself on resisting any product offer they may have. From Kylie to Kim to Khloe and back again. That is, until last week.Gulp.

I happened across Kim's Instagram (wellI I follow her so...) where she posted the most gorgeous video of her having her new red lipstick applied. Her face- flawless. The red, called "Classic Red"- seemingly perfect. It's been a minute since I've bought a red lipstick and at under 20 bucks, I decided to give it a whirl. It's still not here yet but I bought it and then couldn't believe I did. Contributing to her success still makes me feel a little funny, and my beauty aesthetic is fairly far from Kim's so what was I doing? I know, I know. It's just lipstick. And a good red is a good red, regardless of who makes it. Plus it's almost Valentine's Day so a red lip feels, oh I don't know, so right now. That's smart marketing.

I'll wait and see how good it is when it arrives, and if you want to check it out, it's here. And I'm still me. I don't think I'm having an identity crisis but if I start getting major league hair extensions and wearing flesh colored bodysuits with leggings, send for help. 

Cause that's what's up this this seeing red of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in makeup and reality superstars. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. Still here in my gym clothes, writing from my sofa and working on a million things at once. I love it. I'm happy Thank goodness. I'm enjoying being a shut in so very much. At some point I may go nuts, but I'm LOVING it right now.

So something I've noticed in the past year or so is an interest in the occult or witchcraft or astrology, even. I noticed a ton of holiday gifts this year centered around astrology (good gifts for Leos, best colors for Cancerians, etc.) and I literally received three witchy kits as gifts which included a smudge stick, some Palo Santo, and things like feathers to help bring good vibes into the home. I'm wondering if it's because of who's in the White House and the whole me too movement right now- and if women in particular are feeling the need for protection and to get into their power as much as they possibly can. And we all know the phrase "witch hunt" has been trending since Trump has been tweeting it nonstop. Interesting that.

I've always been fascinated by the positive force of something otherworldly- and some of you may know I have my own psychic abilities when I'm tapped in to them. I suppose we all do, really. I have always felt that for me, organized religion was not really where I found spirituality, because my intuition is my spirituality. When I'm fully committed to it, it will never steer me wrong.  The force is strong within me. Ha. And I think that women are drawn to things like witchcraft and astrology because intuition is a major feminine trait. I'm not at all suggesting men don't have it- but most of the women I know are guided by intuition and when they trust it, there's no stopping them.

So this past weekend I saw a show at the Guggenheim which confirmed all that I thought about intuition as a spiritual guide. If you have not yet been to the Hilma af Klint show, you must, must go. Like, literally fly into New York and go see it if you don't live here. And if you live here, go now. Today if you can. It's the coolest show I've seen in years. Her use of the color pink alone just gets me in my feelings in the best of ways.

 Hilma was a Swedish artist who is often called the mother of abstract art. She was born in the 1862 and died in 1941. Her paintings were a visual representation of spiritual ideas and visions she had. A physical manifestation of the spiritual realm. And good Lord- they are magnificent. She was part of a group of five female artists called Da Fem (I need four more ladies to form a group with that name, which I absolutely love) who shared her ideals. These ladies often held seances and were deeply in touch with something otherworldly.  She created works for an imagined temple- that they should only be shown there- and not coincidentally, the temple itself resembled the Guggenheim, so a more perfect setting for her work would be hard to find.  She was not well known in her lifetime, and even caveated that her paintings could not be shown until 20 years after her death. The show also includes a ton of sketches and notebooks and is a fascinating revelation into the life of a pure creative soul, guided by something bigger than her. I'm in love.

So what does this teach us or what was my takeaway from the show? Recently I've been doing a ton of work on myself- working with a coach to help uncover what's next for me. Needless to say, I'm well aware that I find my way by figuring out what I don't want. The work I did with the coach was amazing, but the elaborate business plan we crafted did not fly with me at the end of the day. Because I know in my heart that all I truly want to be is a writer. My intuition has always led me there. In my 20s I was never, ever in touch with my intuition (murky times) so it makes sense I lost my way when it came to writing back then. I literally did not write a word for most of that time. Cut to many years later, and here I am. Tapped in to where I need to be. I do feel as women get older, we get far more in touch with our intuition, because so many other things go out of whack- our bodies change, our tastes change, the way we think of ourselves change. But our gut becomes like a beacon. And I for one am paying attention. 

So whether you are a churchgoer, temple dweller, or sonic twirler, listen to that inner guide. It won't fail you if you trust it. And go deep to get to it. Seeing Hilma's show, an artist who left this earth a long time ago, made me feel so very present. And as I write this on my sofa with candles lit around me, I'm right where I need to be. And that's the best I can do right now, or ever, really.

Cause that's what's up this in touch kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in spiritual guidance and female intuition. XO

Good morning, Tuesday. It's a gloomy day and probably the last of any semblance of warmth. Rest of the week looks brutal. It is winter after all...happy to be nesting.

And even though we're all hibernating, you've no doubt noticed of late that less people are drinking. It's pretty crazy considering the state of things, but it's true. I'm not sure if it's the millennials who are keeping it sober are supporting this trend but many of my non-millennial pals are tee totaling as well. Even I find myself succumbing to alcohol on rare occasions, or when I'm seated next to someone fun at a dinner party who keeps refilling my glass. Otherwise, i've left alcohol in the dust. Admittedly, watching the news these days makes me want to chloroform myself. But I digress. Because lots of us are just not drinking much.

According to CNBC consumption of beer, wine, and alcohol is down for the third year in a row in America. But that doesn't mean people won't seek other ways to alter their states, and I'm beginning to see a lot more stuff in the mindful space. And of course, the buzz around legalized Mary J is legitimizing pot use in a way. I don't know if new audiences are really going full tilt into weed world, but I do know a lot of people who already partake are feeling empowered and are far more casual about their usage than ever before. And CBD oil is everywhere and is being used for everything from anxiety to major pain- they're selling a salve at my barre studio that hardcore workout folks are swearing by for aches, pains, and soreness. 

Maybe it's that weed and drugs like Ahayuasca have perceived health benefits. Pot can help with pain and pms for instance, while a good Ahayuasca trip is said to open the mind and clear out past trauma and help with addiction issues.  If you're not familiar, Ahayuasca is a spiritual brew that is has high hallucinogenic properties. It's a traditional ceremonial tonic used by indigenous people in the Amazon. And it's now at a yoga studio near you- hush hush of course, but you can still go on a vision quest in Tribeca, dressed in all white, if you so choose.  Or of course you can go down to Kentucky, the setting for my new favorite show from Vice, "Kentucky Ahayuasca", where a former bank robber/prisoner with very little dental work is now the shaman-in-chief of a tripped out church where heroin addicts and trauma victims can come and transform their lives.  My friend and I were fascinated by this, but admitted we would prefer to do this at somewhere far more fabulous, like Amangiri, where we'd be clothed in beautiful white caftans with thin gold thread, while our supermodel-like spirit guides would gently dab our mouths of puke as we laid our heads on super high thread counted sheets while Alice Coltrane played softly in the distance. Fyre festival much? ;)

I'm also intrigued by a new category called Euphorics. The other day on an Insta stroll, I came across the brand Kin, a company whose tagline is "Euphorics for humankind" and whose hashtage states "#risewisely". Kin is a beverage composed of what seems to be something called Nootropics( GABA, phenibut, 5-HTP, tyrosine, and some other goodies)  and and the newly trendy adaptogens, a group of plants said to help "balance the body", according to the Kin site. My husband recently attended an event at the more poshly spiritual version of Wework, the Assemblage where adaptogen cocktails were served. He claims that during a group meditation, he went into a fairly trippy state thanks to said adaptogens. 

According to Kin's website, "Kin was born from the desire to unite all creators through meaningful connection. We believe in a night where social isn’t sinful and self-care doesn’t stop at sunset". Pithy for sure, also expensive (each bottle is $47) and also completely sold out unitl February. My trend hat has me predicting a big, big interest in non alcoholic beverages that serve a higher sort of purpose. Kin is clearly cashing in on the trend. Here's a review on Vogue.com. I have to check this out for sure. Oh and best of all? No hangover. 

With so much interest in mindfulness and purpose and things that bring you joy, I expect a big cultural shift towards more higher minded ways to unwind and relax.  Interesting that. I'm completely open to all of it- I've never been shy when it comes to better living through chemistry, so bring it on. WWHTD aka What would Hunter Thompson do? He'd probably ask for a side of raw ether; rumor has it it goes well with euphorics.

Cause that's what's up this I want a new drug kind of Tuesday in the 718, Yours, in healthy, happy trails. XO

Good morning, Monday. Had a lovely breakfast with an old friend and now back at it, trying to get in the groove. Good weekend spent doing New Yorky things like museums, walks, and brunch with friends. All good. Now on with the work week.

So the couture shows in Paris. Blah blah blah, right? I mean- as a fashion nerd I can't help but gawk at them, and that Valentino show was surely one for the fashion books.  See image below. 

It was transcendent and beautiful and absolutely over the top in the best of ways. Dreamy clothes for the .000000001 percent.

And as a (not so) casual observer, I couldn't help but note the explosion of tulle all over the couture runways last week. It was the 80s all over again with frothy, fluffy confectionary dresses that could make your teeth hurt, as well as you wallet.  Love the Viktor & Rolf wink at the top of this post. Clothes with a sense of humor always make me smile. And as a thoroughly modern type,  I don't love a fussy dress. It does not work on me at all. But I do love that girly girl looks are everywhere, as are more modern silhouettes. Case in point at last night's SAG Awards. 

Two of my favorite looks felt very different in tone, but both so gorgeous. I always adore everything Emma Stone does on the red carpet. This look from Louis Vuitton was just the end. Modern, formal, and altogether perfect. And loving the darker red hair color- Megan Mullally sported a dark red do too and I very much approve.

On the other side of the spectrum was the marvelous Rachel Brosnahan, whose ice grey/blue Dior gown was so traditional, yet updated and modern but super feminine all at once. So stunning- the makeup, the hair, the earrings. I died. She really wears a dress so beautifully.

So regardless of which way you swing when it comes to style, there's something for you. And there's not one influence or one silhouette or one reference that we all want to emulate or copy. Instead, be girly. Be a bit more masculine. Be whatever you want to be. As fashion becomes more democratic by the hour, there's as much a place for couture powder puffs as there is for boiler suits. I like this. I like it a lot.

Today I passed by Wildfang on my way back from breakfast and admired the very androgynous pink jumpsuit in the window. I love that the very definition of female dress has caught up to the times. Well played.

Cause that's what's up this mode of a Monday in the 718. Yours, in having all the cake, and eating it too. XO

Hiya, Friday. Had the chance to catch up with an old friend last night and it's truly amazing to me how easy it is to take up where you left off. Something to be said for that. Not sure what but it's a powerful thing. I feel very lucky to have such lasting connections in my life.

And on that note, I'm vibing very heavily into a frequency that is less than pleasant, but equally powerful. I've heard from a lot of my friends of late that they're hurting, and feeling alone and a little lost as the new year takes hold. This is certainly not uncommon for January, but it feels really heavy right now. As an empathetic person, I can't help but want to wrap my arms around everyone who needs a hug or a hand or a chat right now- I feel these things so deeply. And if you're in that boat, please reach out. I'm here to listen. Life is really tough right now. This government shutdown is hurting a lot of our own citizens deeply, and damn if that does not have an effect on every single one of us in some way. And if it's not upsetting you, regardless of what side you're on, I don't know what to say. It's just awful in every damn way.

I really think we need to help each other as much as we can right now. This is not all woo woo at all. But this whole every person for themselves model does not seem to bi working. I challenge you to find someone or something you can devote yourself to this weekend. Whether it's protesting or simply calling someone you know would love to hear from you or adopting an animal in need. Just do something. I believe that if we all stand together and do compassionate things, maybe we can tip the scales and change the frequency. Enough is enough. And for those feeling strong, self care this weekend could mean caring for someone else who needs it. Doing good things is a wonderful way to take care of yourself. When I was working on a project some time ago for Dress for Success, I realized the incredible potency of sharing stories that are hard and painful to tell, and the grace of hearing those stories and feeling compassion for people you know very little. And how asking for help and realizing they needed help was putting something very good into the world- because on the other end are people who are willing to lend a hand and bring some good into the world.

And don't worry if you're feeling down or lonely or a bit desperate right now. These are beyond trying times. But just know that asking for a hand or help when you need it is never a bad thing. I know it's hard. When I'm down I completely close up and don't want anyone near me. That's the Cancerian in me- I head straight for my little crab shell.  But we need more push/pull happening and the idea of asking for help and getting help may just help tilt that axis to something a little more pleasant in the future. Oh and turn off the news. Just turn it off. I decided to listen to "Exile on Main Street" this morning instead of watching CNN. I can't.  And you shouldn't either. It's just too much. My pal in the local UPS store in my neighborhood (no doorman at my casa so I see him a lot) says it's better to give yourself an hour and listen to the BBC News Hour and then be done with it. I'd have to agree- they're far less prone to dramatics than our media folk.

Cause that's what's up this help is available kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in reaching out and turning off the news. And keep going. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. Gloomy but warmer today in the BK.  The element of surprise was alive and well this morning when I spontaneously decided to take an early spin class which happened to have a sub which happened to make it a brutal class which happened to lead to a whole lot of unexpected extra level sweat.  OK then.

So as I was cooling down, I spotted this Burberry story in February British Vogue, shot by Willy Vanderperre and featuring my girl crush of all girl crushes, Stella Tennant. How do I love Stella? Let me count the ways. Ok I can't. Because I love her to infinity. So regal, so stylish, so traditionally beautiful but not all at once. And that HAIR. How can you not love a Bowie/Stella kind of vibe like this? Over the top? Yars. Fabulous? Uh huh. Totally. Which gives me pause. 

Because I've been trying to grow my hair for a minute or two now and to do that, I simply throw it back and off my face so I can forget about it. A recent cut got me to that place I love more than anything- the shaggy Keith Richards vibe I'm always after. But any time I see Stella, it makes me want to hack it all off. As a long time short haired lady, growing my hair feels futile. But I persist. Because change is good. And I need change. But Stella...argh. You get it. You get me. And yea, I'm not Stella Tennant. But channeling her is always a very cool idea.  I could never do that slicked back vibe but that short hair is just the most chic.

Hoping this is my biggest drama of the week ps. I'm feeling in my zone lately and don't need any setbacks, of the follicle variety or otherwise. Cause that's what's up this STELLAAAAAA of a Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in to trim or not to trim.

Good morning, Tuesday. Cheers from the deep freeze. It's bonkers outside. But even worse are the heat pipes in my apartment- I can literally hear them sizzling. Thank goodness for humidifiers but skin really does take a beating in weather like this and heat like that.

I've written about how much I love Laneige's lip mask to keep chapped lips at bay. But a recent trip to Sephora for a random whatevs yielded a great gift to winter skin- and that's Laneige's Water Sleeping Mask for the face. I am OBSESSED with this gel based miracle. In the winter I always switch to a more heavy duty moisturizer that is more like the consistency of embalming fluid, but this moisturizer is whipped and cool and so light. it feels wonderful on dry skin and using it at night has made a huge difference on my skin.Now if only I could find the perfect hand cream- something I've never, ever needed before ps. Aging is FUN. Any recommends?

Oh and the best part? A big tub of this stuff is 25 dollars, and should last you most of the winter because you don't need to slather it on to excess. They also have a cooling Eye Sleeping Mask which is great on dark circles and costs 35 dollars. I know the idea of cooling is a hard sell in this weather, but that's what parched skin requires.  I love the idea of fixes while you're sleeping. Why not multitask during REM sleep? WHY NOT?  Both products won Allure awards, and they know a thing or two about a product or two.

Hang in there cold weather friends. We'll get through this. You just need the right gear,  and that should most definitely include the right products. Cause that's what's up this ice, ice baby of a Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in better living through skincare. XO

Good morning, Monday. I'm not sure why the work gods smiled upon me the past few weeks, but grateful to be working from home right now because it's insanely cold outside. Hope wherever you are, you're staying warm. It hasn't been this bad all winter, yet here we are.

So something on my mind- about a week ago I posted an article  from the NYT (link here) about mom style in Brooklyn, and how it involves a No. 6 clog boot and something called a Salt strap, a fancy, crafty looking strap that you can attach to all of your favorite handbags for a bit of funky flair. I knew nothing of the strap ps although I can swear one of my fav stylish moms in Boston shouted this out a few years ago. Anyway, I'm well aware of the clog boot. Every mom and non mom alike in my neighborhood of Cobble Hill rocks them everywhere. I'm a big fan of a clog but somehow never bought these- I have a cool pair of No. 6 clog pump type things and a few pairs of Rachel Comey clog like objects. I've never been without a clog of some type in my wardrobe come to think of it, and I'm not even a mom. Mom by osmosis because of where I live? Perhaps. I was taken by how many of my friends had opinions and comments on the piece, with an almost overwhelmingly positive response while a few asked if the clogs were truly comfortable. I've always been intrigued by Brooklyn mommy style- the clogs, the oversized silhouettes, the hair in a bun revealing expensive highlights but lack of a hair brush. The perfect, fresh faced skin. Sure there's some that look a bit worse for wear from all night marathons with baby, but in general I've been amazed by how great and stylish the moms are in my neck of the woods.

I got to thinking about mom style and its evolution, as one does. I've always been a geek for fashion history, so I couldn't help but think about how mom dress has changed throughout the years. Obviously we are no longer in an era of leaving it to beaver in terms of style- the nipped in waist, full skirted look has not been in since the 50s. In the 60s I think many moms defaulted to the Jackie O. if they were not doing the hippie thing. My own mother was super chic with her blonde beehive and sleeveless sheath. This photo is from the 60s when my sister was wee and I just love it. You can see where I get it from, right?

Anyway, if I can look at my own mom, the 70s were a bit of a mixed bag- the true emergence of a more casual, laid back approach when it came to mom style- note the mom bun on my very own mom above, as well as some pretty tasty bell bottoms. I don't have a ton of pics from the era, but I recall a lot of silk head scarves, bell bottoms and button downs tied at the waist (that's my dad's mom, my dad, and my mom looking super duper fly). My mother was always a stylish type and I never, ever remember her dressing like a typical mom, whatever that implied. And then of course the 80s came and went. I will say this- I don't recall that many sexy moms in my come uppance, not like we see today. Or "cool" moms for that matter. Moms were just, well moms. 

That's why I'm having a hard time recalling what they dressed like in my true coming of age. All I have as a barometer is my own mother, who wore a ton of CP Shades and panne velvet in the 80s. Oh and a ton of gauze in the summer time. By a company called New Hero. It was cute. And bright. A lot of turquoise and coral if I'm remembering correctly. Here she is above with her popped collar and pearls and my ever present well dressed father, clowning for the cameras as per usual. He was a huge fashion plate too- and I now realize he was kind of hip hop in a weird way. Tons of Polo, Porsche Carrera shades, and shell toe Adidas.  I do recall that my own mom did not wear a ton of jeans once she hit her 40s, and neither do I. Strange that.

Enter the 90s and the ubiquitous mom jeans era. When those suckers became ironically stylish again, I almost threw up. That's a never, ever silhouette for me and that's that. Also- enter Peg Bundy, the mom who gave not a single F and dressed like a floozy and embraced a ton of mom do nots like NOT cooking, NOT dressing appropriately, etc. Her wise cracking, outsized tressed version of motherhood was refreshing, not to mention the mothering style of Roseanne, or lack thereof. Both of these sitcom moms came onto the scene at the tail end of the 80s, and dominated the 90s with their rebellious version of mommyhood.  Oh and coincidentally, this was also the era of "Sex and the City" where the notion of singledom and non motherhood became not only acceptable, but chic. I think that show affected me more than I care to admit. Suddenly, the option of tons of friends, tons of shoes, and no babies was completely ok. True I got married, but I can honestly say I never, ever felt societal pressure to have children. And I never imposed that on myself.

And now that most of my friends are mom, I'm the odd one out. My style is not reliant on picking up kids at school, play dates, or soccer practice. In that same NY Times article, a particular winter coat simply referred to as the "Amazon jacket" was mentioned, and to be honest, I had no idea what it was. As someone who follows fashion with a savant like ferocity, I felt remiss in not knowing about this phenomenon. And then my cool friend showed up wearing it at Balthazar for breakfast the other day. And she's the coolest mom I know. It's interesting how a phenomenon like that jacket can completely pass you by if you're not part of the mom brigade. I wondered if it would be weird if I wore one, though I do have a fur child so surely that could count? 

And then last night on Shark Tank I saw a very pretty young woman come on promoting her company, Sonnet James, a dress company for moms who are not the clog type and more the dress type. I admit I looked at these dresses and judged them as prissy at first, but then her story of a difficult childhood and then single motherhood had me flipping to her site and darn if I didn't see some really cute things there. I was touched by her journey and though I chalked her up initially as yet another Type A mommy from Silicon Valley, how wrong I was. Judging mothers is not nice by the way. And in my guilt, I bought a dress from her site. This leopard one. Because supporting other women is beyond important to me, even though I'm not a mom I figured I could pull off this dress. PS- aware of the obvious homage to Peg Bundy. 

What's striking to me most of all is there are plenty of options for all mommy styles. And though I've often thought about what my generation of "cool parents" will be like for all the kids who have to deal with parents in slouchy ski hats and designer sneakers, I think it will all be ok. Like everything, fashion evolves and flexes and I think it's cool that moms are even talking or thinking about preserving their personal style as their lives become more about the kiddos than spending hours in their closets.  And as I've aged out of dressing with too much this or that hanging out, I think I've embraced a bit of mama style myself. I often wear yoga pants all day, I crave comfort over everything else, and although I spend a good bit on my hair color, my hair style is often bed headed beyond bed headed. I suppose the bottom line is this- there's no big difference between mommy style and grown ass woman style. We all want the same things from our wardrobes. We all have busy, always on lives. And we all want to be stylish, but not spend too much time, money, or effort thinking about it.  And I do think the fact that women have babies so much later nowadays contributes to their desire to keep their personal style, and their sense of selves, intact. Case in point? One of my style icons, Christine Barberich, one of the founders of Refinery 29.  She just had a baby at age 49, and look how incredible she is. That's her above. I give her so much credit for doing it, and no, I'm not getting any ideas other than style tips from her. 

Just thought I'd share some thoughts on mom style, and the fact that although I'm well aware I live in a very chic style bubble known as New York City, I appreciate the rocking moms I see everywhere, looking fab as they juggle a million things all at once. Cause that's what's up this moms rock kind of Monday in the 718, Yours, in mom jeans and everything in between. XO