August in New York (and the wanderlust of my mind)

Good almost afternoon, Monday. It's hard to write or think after this weekend. It's time for this country to stop saying "this isn't who we are". Because it very much is who we are. And we need prolific, Nobel Prize-worthy sea change.  It's hard to take. Extraordinary times. 

And to top it off, New York in August. Ugh. At the beginning of the Summer, I'm like "hooray Summerinthecity". By the end, I'm like "omg Summerinthemotherfuckingcity". 

Every time I am stuck in this town in August, I feel a sense of depletion and perhaps a smattering of defeat. Although it's beyond lovely to have what seems like the entire city to yourself most weekends, it's hot. And a little smelly. And there's a seasonal fatigue hanging in the air as we wait for the air to crisp and the leaves to turn and it feels a bit flatlined in terms of the typical sense of possibility one feels when living here.  I just found myself fantasizing about the French countryside and road trips and copious wine and earthy food.  And then I switched to laying in cool water somewhere, destination unknown. And then back to France. 

There should be a rule that we all need to retreat in August. Like the Europeans do. Otherwise, when left to my own devices, I'll just sit here and bum myself out (make myself feel better?) listening to Nico's "These Days" while I work. I go out walking...

But the good news about New York in August is surely September. Because it's just around the corner. And that whole rentrée vibe takes over in the city and it's almost time for sweaters and you order a hot coffee instead of an iced and then suddenly you're missing Summer in a wistful way that's poetic but you can't wait for Fall. Sigh. I love the seasons, don't you?

I just wanted to share my feels this (almost) afternoon. I'm glad I spent a week at the beach and all but it's August in New York and I can honestly say I'd like to be somewhere "other". I'm tired of all the awful news. I'm tired of the heat messing up my makeup. I'm just plain tired. Don't look at me.

Cause that's what's up this sleepy, sultry Summer day in the 212. Yours, in seasonal disorders and such. Where to next?  XO


On choosing a creative path...

Good morning, Friday. Let me start by saying that this week kicked my ass. Completely. I have no ass left. None. 

So as I continue to explore the evolution of my career, there are moments. Moments where you feel like you can't get anything right. Moments where people's obsession and agony over every freaking word makes you feel insane. Moments where you wish you were independently wealthy, interspersed with remembering how grateful you are for having work in the first place. All of those moments.

But as I continue to grow my creative career path, there are some inevitable bumps in the road. One of those bumps that has me reaching for a seat belt is vulnerability. I have never experienced such a deep sense of it in my work as I do now. What I mean by this is that although writing on behalf of brands is not "personal", it still feels very close to my heart and soul. My writing does. And when people rip it apart and agonize over my words it's tough sometimes. Very tough. I have learned through this process to never get too attached or fall in love with my ideas. It's not that I don't stand up for things when they are great, but I have learned what's worth fighting for and to only fight for the right things. But even when I wave the white flag, that doesn't mean I don't get a little beat up from the battle sometimes. At times, it's all just too obtuse. And exhausting.

Thing is, everyone's a writer. We write emails, posts, memos to staff. So everyone has an inevitable bias when it comes to words. It's entirely subjective and you could go around and around a million times over one sentence, mission statement, or headline.  It can rip your heart out.  And though everyone's a writer, being creative is a whole different thing. Completely.  PS this rule applies to most creative things now- take photographers for instance.  We are all endlessly snapping iPhone pics and thinking we're Avedon. There's some great stuff out there, but it complicates things for people who do this for a living. 

I just wanted to share how challenging it is to be creative for hire. And to get paid for it. Every job is hard and though this one is more fun than most, it can feel gnarly.  It's humbling to do work that is close to your heart and spirit. I'm not saying copywriting for brands is a heart thing for me, but my writing sure is.

That's why I need to dedicate much of my free time to writing my own stuff. As I do here. I appreciate the finesse of writing professionally, but I don't want to lose what made me love writing in the first place. And that's my voice. My POV. My words. Me me me basically. ;) My gratitude knows no bounds for having been able to shift gears and follow my passion, but you can't forget about why you did it in the first place. I'm tough enough to take the heat. But on occasion, I need to get out of the kitchen.

Hey So on occasion, I have to take a pause and remind myself not to get too down when it all goes to shit. Because it often does. But then it all somehow works out and you hit a home run and it's all ok again. I'm tapped into my most creative side right now and I'm willing to take the good with the bad because it's totally and completely worth it. And I realize it's all very much part of the process. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Well, maybe for my own novel or screenplay. 

Cause that's what's up this putting it all out there kind of Friday in the 212. Yours, in what are words worth? XO


A day late, but not a lipstick short

Good morning, Tuesday. I know I'm late to the party with this lipstick post (yesterday was a national lipstick holiday), but no matter. I wanted to write about some boy stuff yesterday. So here's one for my girls. That pic is by Marilyn Minter above, and don't you just? So stunning.

But great photography aside, lIpstick is like another world to me. I have a love/hate relationship with it. At times I think it looks vulgar- not on anyone else, mind you- just me. At other times I feel like it's too "makeup" and not really my style, even though I'm prone to dramatic eyes for daytime. Something about lipstick can just feel so artificial, and for me, the challenge is finding one that is like my lip color, but a little bit better. I tend to stick to rosy hues- I've talked a million times about my love for Dolce Vita from Nars- it's still one of the best neutrals out there. Soft and pretty and barely there. I also love the neutrals from Charlotte Tillbury- for a redhead (and right now I am Run Lola red and loving it)  she really gets the lip color thing- I'm digging on Stoned Rose big time right now.  The name alone...

But I digress. Because I like a bargain as much as the next girl and cheap lipstick is often just that. But I've found two formulas of the same genre that I like, and both are under 20 bucks. Read on.

Let me start by saying that the word "matte" terrifies me.  I have always been someone that preferred a dewy visage to a matte one. And when it comes to lipstick, I've always gone more gloss or sheer than not. Matte lipstick says high pigment to me, which is something I'm not that interested in. But on Prime Day (again late to the party) last week or so, I saw AOC's red lipstick was on sale so I went to check it out, hoping for a color that would keep me from looking like I'm in drag.

I did find a nice, nude neutral and man is this a MATTE look. But damn if this lipstick doesn't stay on a long time. I like this idea- because another thing I hate about lipstick is reapplying it. And at 16 bucks, it turns out it was a good investment, even though its back to its regular price of 22 dollars now. But the winner in the long-wearing lipstick game is none other than Sephora's own brand. I am crazy about this lipstick, and it's only 14 dollars.  I put this lipstick on in the am, and I swear it's still there when I get home at night, and even after I smother my dog with kisses. 

My favorite colors are Marvelous Mauve and my favorite, favorite Rose Redux. If you love a dusty rose vibe, omg. So gorgeous for real. 

Oh and in case you too have mattephobia, I'll tell you my secret. Make sure your lips are far from dry. And the best way to do that is to go for the Laneige lip mask at night. Dry lips will never happen when you use this product, even in the dead of winter. Y'all know this is an iconic maven pick. I've been using it regularly for a few years now.

So that's my little lipstick homage for the moment. And until next year most likely. 

Cause that's what's up this lip service of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in kisses and kisses. XO



Once upon a time at the movies...loving on Brad, Leo, and Quentin T.

Good morning, Monday. I had a week off at the beach which was not without challenges. I will never make myself so available again when I'm off the grid. The downside of modern life reared its ugly head this week when work came knocking and I couldn't fully power down. Merde. My own fault most likely, but still. It's hard.  I ended up with a decent tan but not as much relaxation as I would have liked. Oh well. There's always next Summer.  (Yea yea don't cry for me, Argentina...I get it).

So this weekend back in the city I went to see the new Tarantino, "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood". And let me tell you- I missed Tarantino. So very much. The movie was everything I had hoped for and more. Hollywood in the late 60s? Fantastic.  Wardrobe by Ariane Phillips? Yes, more, please. The gorgeous, sexy curves of Los Angeles by car with the radio blaring? Um, yea. Indeed. Yup.

But most of all my friends, Brad Pitt. And Leo. Always Leo. But Brad.

Truth be told, I've found my feelings for Brad Pitt troublesome throughout the years. Is he a good actor? Do I like him? Do I like his blonde, pretty boy thing? I mean, I loved him in "Fight Club".  And "Thelma and Louise" was a wonderful intro to his gorgeousness. But there were many films where I found him annoying, irritating. His use of food as props. His lack of perceived depth. And yea, I know every straight guy on Earth is ok with saying Brad Pitt is hot. Because he is. And if Brad is hot, this movie was equatorial in scale when it comes to his Pittness. I loved him so much.

The Redford vibe. The moccasins. The great tee shirts. The weathered texture of his face and his movements. This was an amazing testament to why he's amazing. And I'm not even mentioning Leo because hot damn if Leonardo DiCaprio is not always a gift. I adore him and as a washed-up western film star, he was stellar. His talents are tremendous, and he too has grown into his face; less pretty boy now and more expressive.  Watching them both onscreen was pure joy. 

We talk so much about women aging that we take for granted men age too. Now before you throw your bra at me, let me say- I get it. Men don't get dinged for aging, they become more "distinguished". I know all of this. But seeing actors from my generation coming fully into their own is inspiring- male or female. And with Keanu's newfound success, there's room for a few more at the table. And it's wonderful. For all of us.

If you're looking for a bit of your own inspiration, go see this film. It's terrifically Tarantino and fun as Summer movies can and should be. Is Tarantino the feminist hero that everyone seems to be looking for nowadays? Nope. He isn't. Margot Robbie's Sharon Tate is not wholly dimensional shall we say. But his undying love for Hollywood is beautiful to watch. And fun. More, please.

So today let's hear it for the boys. It's rare we say that nowadays. But I'm gonna say it today.

Cause that's what's up this all dudes love Brad Pitt kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in much-needed bro time. PS I need that tee-shirt Brad's sporting above. XO



A birthday post from the birthday girl

Good morning, Wednesday. No way around it- today's my birthday. And I'm feeling the feels.

Supposedly some craziness in Capricorn is making me emotional and I'll admit- I'm a bit of a puddle today. Not sad, necessarily. Just emotional.  I hate the cliche of being introspective on one's birthday, but it's unavoidable. One thing that keeps coming up for me is the notion of nurture. Or what it means to feel nurtured.

For me, nurturing myself always meant buying myself lovely clothes, shoes, skincare. It could also mean drinking too much or eating too much or indulging just too much I have always been a bit of a hedonist/pleasure-seeker so that's a slippery slope for me. Because true nourishment/nurturing of body and soul comes from taking care of yourself. And when you start eating right, for instance, it may feel like deprivation but it's really what you need to feel your best and be your best. And the constant bombardment of Instagram and Amazon Prime Day and an endless loop of emails promoting a hyper manic sales cycle, you can't help but feel manipulated by all of the messaging.  Like, maybe I really do need those Gucci shoes. Because they're discounted.  And yea, you should buy the shoes sometimes. But not all the time. For me to feel nurtured, it's not about having less a la Marie Kondo, it's just about spending less and having more time, money, and security. That's real nourishment. This is the shit you realize as you get older. Wild, right? Maybe I really don't need to be the girl with the most cake...

They say your cells and wiring change every 7 years. I'm at the end of a pivotal 7-year cycle and I can absolutely feel the changes coming. It's almost a non-negotiable now to live a more authentic life. And some lifestyle changes come with that. As do staff changes. I can no longer tolerate people that deplete me. There are levels of course. But I have to honor the fact that I'm an empathic, highly sensitive woman. And when those frequencies battle my own, see ya. I can't. And I won't. 

I've been dedicated to writing my own stuff more and more and that will be a huge focus for me for the next several years and beyond. I've broken ground on a whole new website/blog and I'll be sharing that with all of you come September. I'm feeling great about all of this and am strong in my intentions.

When I'm on a mission, I'm on a mission. And my friends, I am on a major mission.  Change is always scary for me but when I'm ready, I'm ready. I've ripped off a ton of band-aids this year. And now it's time to heal. Very grateful for this chance, and this time of life. I've never felt more connected to my deepest, happiest self. HIppie shit or no hippie shit it's true. I like to think that this year, blowing out the candles means more than wishing for something new- it means blowing out the old stuff I don't need to clear the way for moving forward.

Oh and here are a few things about my style that I'm seeing as the clock nears 50. (Not there yet. Yikes. Almost). Let's call this section "not intos" as in "no longer into it".  I think there are so many rules we subscribe to women of a certain age, and I'm having none of them. You'll see what I mean:

I'm not into high heels. I haven't been in a long time but those days are long gone. Long. I need to feel like I can move, run, and above all, be comfortable. That's that.

I'm not into anything overly dainty. It's funny- I've always loved very dainty jewelry and although I still wear my tiny star of David every day, I'm into bigger pieces of jewelry. Not more expensive, that's not what I'm staying. Just larger in scale, substantial if you will. That's where I'm at. Dainty feels too much like a little girl right now. And I'm far from that place.

I'm not into shapeless clothes. There was a time over the past several years that I wore clothes that felt potato-sack like. I'm talking to you, COS and stores of that ilk. I know when women get older, they tend to gravitate towards this look, and it is extremely chic. But because of my rebellious nature, I'm going the other way. I'm wearing shorter things. I'm wearing more body-skimming things. I'm into looks that feel a little sexier somehow and show the shape, and more importantly, honor the body I'm in.  That's what I'm in the mood for, and it has little to do with being skinny, fat, or anything else. I'm just in the mood for less Eastern bloc attire.  This is counter to what most people tell you about getting older but screw 'em. I still love some kaftan realness, though. Don't worry. I'm not crazy.

I'm not into shrinking violets. I know this may be hard for you to believe. But truth be told, I'm shy. Very. Lately, I've been feeling the need to not shy away from how I am feeling. To advocate for what I think is right and fair. Oh, and to dye my hair bright red. That too. Loud and proud I guess. That's where I am. Because of that, I do retreat from time to time. But I'm a Cancer. That's just what we do.

I'm not into rules. I love clothes. I always will. But I hate formality. And it's getting worse as I get older. I hate a fussy hairdo. I hate anything that is too "just right". I like things a little messy. Much like life. And when it comes to formal occasions, I'm going default style. A tuxedo jacket and pants. A simple dress. That's it. Keeping it simple when it comes to formal times. And then going big whenever the heck I feel like it. Like a Simone Rocha tulle dress with my Gazelles. That kind of thing. I'm into that. 

So that's my birthday post for you. Onward and such. Busy day today. Looking forward to celebrating with pals tonight at a favorite old haunt. Thanks for all the bday wishes. Love to you all and thanks for being in my life. Cause that's what's up this blowing out the candles kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in onward marching, with a bit of Alice in Wonderland because I remain "curiouser" and "curiouser" for what's to come. XO






Can powerful women be stylish? It's complicated ( or is it?).

Good morning, Thursday. I'm in an office in a caftan and I'm a-ok with that.

Which got me to thinking- the way we dress. For work. Such a thing. A recent Facebook debate on a friend's page inspired me to write this post about how we focus so much on the way women look. We're fixated on it. You know why? Because the way women look is super intriguing. And why should we take that away?

Now listen up. Lest you think I'm being anti-feminist, I am not in any way. I am not saying the way women look should be some sort of harsh judgment or should overpower a conversation on competence, intelligence, or general awesomeness. Not at all. But as someone who loves clothes and has pathologically studied style my entire life, I'm not favoring drab clothing just to be taken seriously. F that.  And if I want to make a statement, I'll make a statement. And I'm self-aware enough to take risks from time to time. That's just my vibe. Like the office caftan for instance. I'm owning it.  Yea I am a creative professional which allows me greater freedom and for that, I am extraordinarily grateful.

But I digress.  Let's talk about women in politics. AOC's red lip for one. Or the white caped look she wore to the State of the Union. That was intentional. Very intentional. And that red lip is not a shrinking violet move. To me, it says take me seriously, lipstick and all. She owns her ideals and her look and that's fantastic.  Why do we have .to deny our femininity to be taken seriously? Elizabeth Warren's no-nonsense style suits her just perfectly. Because she's a no-nonsense kind of woman and that's that.  And Kamala's style suits her too- strong, confident, don't fuck with me, fellas. More of that.

Further, the women's soccer team. I happened to watch the awards ceremony on TV (where our mayor cheaply inserted himself into the conversation around pay as he also reminded us of his Presidential run- #cheapshot) where that amazing group of ladies celebrated in ripped up jeans and tee shirts. Later on, the ESPYs were broadcast, and these girls were glam to death. Megan Rapinoe, my new girl crush (me and everyone else) was wearing the lowest blazer with nothing underneath and looked sexy as hell. And I loved it. All the girls came out to the yard and showed that they can be confident, strong, and stylish. Some more traditionally feminine, some less so, but all 100% woman. I can't even handle how inspiring those women are. Get off your ass, pro soccer and pay them NOW.

People always say why don't they talk about the way the men look when it comes to politics? Well, I say give us something to talk about. I think the whole point of politics on the male side is to look kind of middle of the road- not too flashy or "too" anything really. Beto's casualness is a nod to Obama's cool swagger, but really not so interesting. People say Obama had style, to me he had swag. The most stylish male president of all time was absolutely JFK. Hands down. If men in politics are judged more for their character, it's because they don't put fashion first.  I don't want to stereotype and say women do all of the time, but what's wrong with those of us that really like clothes and expressing ourselves through how we look? Not a damn thing.

I know this is a time for women to be unhinged and unnerved and pissed off. I'm mad too. Beyond mad. But I also think it's ok for women to acknowledge that style and dress and the way we look is important. If we want it to be. And that doesn't take anything away from the other stuff. Because today's women are the full package. Whether in Louboutins or Nikes or anything in between. 

Let's not squash that. And if people want to talk about how we look, let them. We'll be busy kicking ass and taking names. See ya on the other side. Now, where's my lipstick?

Cause that's what's up this turned out kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in best dressed and saluting women of all shapes, sizes, and styles. XO







Maven recommends: The best bathing suits at the very best prices

Good morning, Wednesday. I'm still under the duvet for the first time in a while. It feels very nice to stay under the covers for an extra hour. It's the little things.

So if you're like me, you like Summer enough but hate bathing suits. I have never understood how walking around in basically your bra and underwear is somehow ok at the beach but not in real life. Personally, I prefer a bra and underwear to a bathing suit but that's just me. And I haven't worn a bikini since childhood basically. So there.

Bathing suits have always cost me a tremendous amount of money. As somebody who's got a real body to contend with (boobs and the like), I find it challenging to find suits that suit. My default is usually Malia Mills, whose suits can cost 300 bucks or more. That's obscene. And I wasn't ready to pony up this Summer anything near that amount. For a simple look like my friend Jane Birkin wore so iconically above, why spend so much?

So I frantically searched the internet, looking for bathing suits that were sensibly sexy and not Bubby-like. I would rather eat my own flesh than wear a bathing suit with any kind of skirt or any kind of matronly festoonery.  I go to too many barre classes for that thank you very much. And those ridiculous "miracle" suits are more house of horrors than miraculous. Think ill-fitting sausage casing. No thank you.

So it was with great glee that I came across some really, really wonderful options at (wait for it) H&M. Yes, you heard me.

For me to spend less than 50 bucks on a bathing suit is a complete revelation. So on a total lark, I ordered 7 suits, and spent about 200 bucks or so, thinking I'd have a shot at maybe one or two of them looking good. 

When they arrived, all 7 looked pretty great, and I'm keeping them all. I was shocked. It's true I tend to wear only black bathing suits, sometimes brown, but mostly black or navy. These suits fit well, were super comfortable, and I was absolutely thrilled. Bonus for my leopard caftan score. At under 30 bucks, I'm over the moon to have such a chic option to cover up for such a low price. Genius.

So as summer is in full swing and you need to pick up a suit or two, absolutely check the stock at H&M.  Who knows how long they will hold up, but who cares really? A season or two is just fine by me at that price.

Here are my top three picks in the one piece category.

This ruffled girl is mad cute. I got it in black but love the paisley too.

This wrap reminds me of 70s Norma Kamali suits which is a very good thing- layer with a gold coin necklace and instant chic. Great for girls with boobs too. Love.

I didn't get this one but love a brown bathing suit because I do have a serious thing for 70s vibes at the beach. A brown suit is so pretty against golden skin. In love with the simple shape. Pretty cute in the polka dot version too. Cheap enough to buy both.

So go forth and Summer it up. But first, get a new bathing suit. One that doesn't make you cry, because it looks great and it's priced right. 

Cause that's what's up this well suited Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in looking forward to beach week. XO





In praise of the Summer job. Is it a thing of the past?

Greetings, Monday. I hope you had a lovely long weekend. Mine was a bit of a mixed bag but glad to have had some time to recoup and regroup. 

So was watching CNN's movie special last night which looked at movies from the 80s and 90s, with many sitting squarely in the teen genre. As a child who grew up on a steady diet of those, I loved the look back.  And as they were showing a clip from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", I began to think about something. Whatever happened to the Summer job?

Back before college, I had many Summer jobs. There was my Summer as a telemarketer. That was a bit of a bust but I was a high performer and actually talked to someone from Def Leppard on the phone, who flirted with me incessantly. It was, of course, possible he was not with the band, in case you were wondering.

Then I worked in a few clothing stores, though my favorite Summer job was most definitely my BS guard duty at the Philadelphia Folk Festival. That was a weekend-long music event where you camped and drank and smoked and enjoyed. If you "worked" the weekend, you could get in for free. So my friend Bev and I had a really difficult job. Guarding the gate to enter the campgrounds. By gate, I mean small footbridge. And by job, I mean drinking beer and smoking Marlboro Reds all day and Lord knows what else.  That's a true story, We sucked at that job. Who knows the number of ruffians that got in for free on our dime.

But I digress. Because shows like "Stranger Things" are showing what it was like yet again to be a kid in the 80s. And we all had Summer jobs. Most of my dude friends delivered pizza. One girl my sister's age cut Flashdance sweatshirts at the local record and jeans shop. A few of my friends worked in restaurants as hostesses (that, ps, was my college gig straight through to graduation). Some of them were camp counselors (never my jam) or mother's helpers (summerish nannies who would accompany a family to the shore). And of course, if you were lucky enough to be "down the shore" all Summer, you'd get a job at the amusement park or water ice stand or on the beach. None of these jobs were high paying. But they offered a sense of purpose and socializing and that was all good.  I think about the kids of today and wonder where their work ethic went, or whether their parents thought such jobs were beneath little Atticus or Persephone.

Not the case.

Because as I was getting dressed this morning, I was listening to NPR, who had a story on about this specific thing. Summer jobs. The fact is, after the recession, a lot of kids stopped looking for work in the Summer. And many ended up focusing on academics by engaging in school programs to get extra credit or a better shot at getting into a good college. 

But for me, I loved having some pizza fry pocket money in the warmer months. And I still got to work on my tan because the time commitment was not insane. There's just something about your first few jobs in life that really mean something. They're not indicators of any career path most likely. But they do give you a sense of what it's like to deal with people, be responsible, and even brush (phone) shoulders with a maybe rock star.  And now that I think about it, it seems a pretty good idea to open a record and jeans shop now. Who's with me?

Anyway, I was just thinking about this particular rite of passage and was wondering if it's reached extinction. Apparently, companies like McDonald's and Taco Bell are accepting applications aka "snaplications" on Snapchat, so I guess it's still around or a scant workforce is making it so as employers struggle to fill open jobs.  What were your favorite or most miserable Summer jobs and why?  Reach out and tell me.

Summer summer jobs it wouldn't be Summer without them. Cause that's what's up this odd job kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in seasons past. XO


Don't be afraid of your freedom: The Midlife Edition

Good morning, Wednesday. Happy pre-4th to all my patriots out there. Let's remember what's great about this country- we've always been an optimistic lot after all.

So I had a meeting at a we workspace this am and noticed, as I often do of late, that I was the oldest person in the elevator. 

That in itself is not strange. But what's odd to me is the very notion of boutique firms, start-up companies, or small but mighty brands are not only staffed by young people but started by young people. I'm not sure why innovation is a young person's game. 

Take the first dot com boom of the 90s. I was a young chick in New York, working in advertising way back then, everyone was a good deal older than me who had any power. And I appreciated that. The C Suite was full of people over 40, and it was good. And then to the left of me was an entire startup culture, brimming to the surface of New York work life in a way none of us had ever seen.

Admittedly, the whole vibe was exciting. It was the early days of the internet, and it felt like anything was possible. But I will never forget going to some rising, sexy dot com party, surrounded by children drinking from some luge, and I thought, hm. This won't last. Sure there were cute people. And yes the ping pong tables and perks were enticing. But the places were being run by children. And as someone who worked at big Madison Avenue ad agencies, this all felt childish to me. Somehow in my mind, I knew these newbies were going to crash and burn. And they did. 

Cut to now. The startup culture is thriving. The gig economy is keeping many of us alive. There is a whole new way to think about work/life as many telecommute, cowork, and Skype their way through the day. I love this. I think the evolution of work is beyond exciting and here's the difference from the first iteration of it I referenced above- I'm ready for it.

Let me start by saying as I've said many times, I have no issue working with young people, whose ideas and idealism and cultural relevance are vast. But when a culture or company is in its infancy, you know what's often missing? Experience. 

That's what muddied the waters in the 90s. And as I stood in that elevator this am, that's what's wrong right now. Imagine if all of us in Gen X and beyond started new ventures. Solo or together. There'd be no stopping us. I'm sure of it.  Think of all the awesome stuff you've done. Imagine how valuable that can be when in the right place. A friend of mine is going for a big job at a big corporation, and all I can think about is how brilliant he is and why he's not using his powers for good to do his own thing. It seems sad to me, given that most of those big jobs come with a mark on your head and a two-year shelf life. You know it's true.

So as we celebrate our freedom and independence, riddle me this, friends of a certain age. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and poke holes. Say you need a steady income and a big office and staff. I'll shoot you right down.

Because if you are feeling edged out of your chosen industry because you have crow's feet, consider DIYing the crap out of your career. Start your own thing. Join boards of companies just starting out and show them the way. Go freelance and never look back. Hopefully, you realize that one of the great gifts of working for 15 plus years means you have great connections and compadres. Now is the time to use them. Start with me. How can I help?

Don't let some asshole eye your corner office. Create your own. Oh, ye tired, poor, and huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Get off your butts and start something. I'll be here to collaborate. And hopefully at some point, I'll be in an elevator in a random we work building, and I won't be the only person who knows the theme song to "Laverne and Shirley". Go forth,  my friends. Let's take matters into our own capable hands and create new enterprises together. That's the real American way.  Last time I checked there was no expiration date on that.

Cause that's what's up this let freedom ring as you free yourself up to the possibilities kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in wanna be startin' something. XO




The crime of passion and why I need calm.

Good morning, Friday. TGIF my pals.

So last night was the second night of the Dem debates, and they got me thinking.

The playing field is insanely crowded, and we are living in crazy times, but between my constant watching of CNN and all the candidates trying to out 'splain each other, I'm exhausted. Everybody's yelling, and nobody's saying anything. I love how fired up Elizabeth Warren is and appreciate her conviction and planning, but stop screaming at me. Kamala, I love you and want you to rip Trump's face off at the debate, but wow, you're intense. And Bernie, the dandruff on the shoulders was far from a good look, and your angry Brooklyn finger wagging I did not find charming last election, and I find it less attractive now. 

And yea, I know. We don't need charm to fight the Old Yeller in chief. But can we have a little calm? Just a little quiet, studied, well-mannered sanity? Being passionate is becoming offensive to me. Because this landscape feels like rage vs. passion and I'm just craving a different style of communicating. We need to evolve past this current model of this frothy-mouthed, cuckoo town. I keep waiting for someone to have a heart attack on stage. 

That's why I was so enamored of Pete Buttigieg last night. His answers were cool, calm, and collected without being arrogant, cavalier, or dismissive. He was not asleep at the wheel. He is just someone who exudes grace under pressure and I admire that.  He's passionate but collected. More of that, please. Less of candidates and pundits gone wild. 

As someone who had a stressful career path as a producer for a long time, I always approached my work with calm or tried to. Because I realized panic spreads quickly and I was the one people were looking to solve problems. And I wanted to keep it cool. Even when my insides were on fire from stress. I don't like people that spread anxiety or yell too much. They are not my tempo and they never will be. 

Thing is Trump's fear mongering is a style I can't stomach. And now the Dems are yelling too, and everyone's screaming and I want to return to civility. I so appreciate Pete waiting his turn last night and not getting blinded by Biden's sparkly shark teeth. I have my eye on Pete, and I just wanted to mention it. This is not a political post- but more about my feelings and that I want calm in the storm. It's refreshing and beautiful and grounding. 

So I'm dedicating this weekend to some much-needed calm. Fighting fire with fire is debilitating. Cause that's what's up this keeping calm and thinking about 2020 kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in steady as we go. XO