the world according to sherimaven

Good afternoon, Thursday. It's just shite outside and I'm feeling a cold coming on so laying quite low. 

So I've been going to my local bookstore a lot of late as I really enjoy scoping out beautiful new books (I'm a sucker for pretty pictures you know)- I bought this gorgeous monograph on Loulou De La Falaise, infamous bohemian chic muse of YSL and amazing beacon of French style. I've pored over the book and can't get enough of her chic more is more approach that somehow never looks overdone. Some pics to validate my undying devotion to this style icon:

And since I have some time off, I've been doing a lot of thinking about inspiration- and from where it comes and how it starts. For me, it's always been a rather happy accident. For instance, I bought the book on Loulou and then found myself in Prospect Heights for lunch with a friend and her gorgeous baby yesterday. Amidst the cold, damp weather, I happened upon the most fabulous vintage store, called 1 of a Find. They had the most fabulous stuff and I was glad I was early to meet my pal and could spend some time there, amidst loads of gold threaded boho dresses and pieces from the 70s that channeled my love of all things Loulou. I didn't buy anything, but I loved that feeling of inspiration served- happening upon a store by chance that was a full on homage to someone I had just recently rediscovered.  The store had a great vibe and lots of fun pieces- the girl in the shop had studied fashion design in Florence and we chatted about the joy of small dogs and she told me great stories of Italy.  I recommend this shop and moreover, I'm intrigued by this very cool neighborhood I've known little about. I'll be back for sure to check it out. 

And as all of that was happening and as I sit here feeling less than perfect, I can't help but feel that you can't push inspiration or force it to happen, and I'm taking that approach to my life too. I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing- exploring, discovering, unearthing and know that soon, all of these happy accidents will form something great. I feel lucky to have a bit of time to check out new neighborhoods, read some books, and rediscover the things that make me tick. Inspiration can come from everywhere- it just can't be forced. And as I look to figure out how to start my own business, I'm going to think of Loulou and her effortless approach to inspiration- my spirit enjoys feeling free. This much I know. I may be dressing more minimalist these days, but I'm the free spirit I've always been and feel like there's good stuff on the way.  

Cause that's what's up this inspiration is everywhere kind of Thursday in rainy day Brooklyn. Yours, in taking my time. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. It's not cute outside today and I feel like getting back under the duvet. I'm lacking the necessary motivation to get moving, and since I've already taken a barre class, I feel it is within my rights to do not a ton for the rest of the day. But I've got stuff to do and have to find a way.

So Renee Zellweger is all over the internet with people wondering what on Earth she's done to her face. I am in the camp that finds it sad she needs to render herself virtually unrecognizable, and judging from my Facebook page, many of my friends on social media agree. But there are those that find the critique of her new look as mean and hateful, and I can't disagree. I would hate to be the subject of so much scrutiny, but looking at her it's hard to understand why she is so clearly trying to change her appearance as she rounds the corner of middle age. It's sad to me, and I'm sticking to that.

But for me, I'm glad I've always been the quirky girl, and here's why. 

If you were one of those girls that was the prom queen, cheerleading captain, or president of Tri Delt, I feel for you. I do. But you're never going to look the way you did then, but I understand why you would want to. For me, there's not a single amount of money that would make me want to go back to my late teens or 20s, so why would I want to look the way I did then? If we grow as human beings, why would we expect our looks to stay the same? Yea, thought so. Oh and one other thing- find some other stuff that makes you attractive besides your great ass and cute haircut. That should not be all you've got.

There are those of us in this world that have a more quirky appeal- maybe we're not traditional, perfect beauties but we've got more going for us.  I found a personal best that I was extremely happy with. I worry that for girls who are complete babes in high school and college, there will always be a chasing the dragon moment to pursue some vestige of that perfection. It's not good. I'm glad I was on the outskirts and the fringes and celebrated my own unique beauty and style and world view; and I love the Catherine Deneuve school of thought (who by the way is still a great beauty) about getting older- where one feels that growing into your face and wrinkles is a great honor, a badge that you have made it through some major bullshit. You've earned that face. Leave it the heck alone.

I have friends on social media who have gone too far with plastic surgery, and I'm sure you do too. I think it looks awful and fake and bizarre but I can't hold it against people. I'm not anti surgery, what I'm anti is taking it to a place where your face is no longer your own. As a woman who has always had more of a unique appeal, my face aging is not bumming me out as much, because I like who I have become, I like the character I have grown into. Sure, I slave away at Pure Barre and spin to keep my shit together, but honestly, I'm not chasing the way I used to look. I'm cool with who I am. What makes me sad for Ms. Renee and all of the crazy bad plastic surgery and injectable overload I see is the belief that women are not good enough as we are. It's startling to me that we have come so far in this universe and our status has never been stronger, but the constant quest for youth seems like a big step back- why would anyone want to go back to the way things were and not focus on moving forward? Why do so few men get plastic surgery or fixate on fixing their faces? I'm not talking about occasional Botox, I'm talking about way more. 

And this is not me being on some natural high horse- but I'm not trying to look like an aging prom queen. I just want to look like me, and since I am infinitely young at heart, I'm not super worried about chasing youth. I've always had my own notion of what it means to be beautiful, and I've never tried to be something I'm not. I'm happy to be a bit of a quirky bird because nobody expects me to get hair extensions, Botox, or be a size 2. I'm saying I just want more women to celebrate who they are, and redefine beauty the way we have redefined our lives. Sure Renee should not have to justify why she wants to look the way she looks, but I find it disturbing not just because she doesn't look like herself anymore, but that we pick apart how women, particularly those in the public eye, are aging and how they look. (Even more upsetting to me is here is a woman whose role as Bridget Jones celebrated a quirky, adorable character, yet all anyone could talk about is her weight gain for the role).

I guess the point of this rant is I am happy with myself for the most part- I may do little things to accommodate some changes in my face and figure, but I'm not going to change myself to the extreme. I'm focused on moving forward and not going back, and I wish more women felt that enjoying who they are now and who they will become is a great honor, not something to toss aside in favor of something they once were.

And that's what's up this happy to be quirky kind of Wednesday in Brooklyn. Yours, in keeping it real. Here's to not being the prom queen- not then, and not now. XO

Good morning. Gloomy Gus in New York today. Going to do some work at home and chill.

Last night, we all got the news that Oscar De La Renta had passed, and although he lived a full life, his loss will impact the American fashion landscape for years to come. Because before normcore, before Rag and Bone pajama jeans, and before fashion became so extraordinarily democratic, there was Oscar. He made dresses and pieces for women who loved to dress up, who loved to eat fancy lunches and have a chauffeur and live life in style. His point of view made American fashion a classier place, and although I'm not exactly an Oscar girl, I enjoyed seeing his beautiful take, particularly on evening, on classic style.

I had to post this dress because it's one of my favorites of his of all time- this striped and strapless dress was made for the Spring/Summer 2013 collection, and to me, it had Michelle Obama's second term inaugural dress written all over it. I loved the choice of stripes to make the dress feel more spirited and casual, but that shape was so elegant and sophisticated and all American. I just can't quit that dress, and I'll never forget it. Perhaps if she had chosen that dress like I had recommended, Barack's term would have been a little better received? A girl can dream, and today, I'm dreaming of Oscar.

RIP Mr. De La Renta. Cheers to a true American classic. And that's what's up this well dressed Tuesday in the BK. Yours, in evening wear and ladies who lunch. XO

Good morning, Saturday. D is en route after a week away, and needless to say, Khan and I are anxiously awaiting his return, and before I head out to Tribeca to touch up my roots, I thought I'd give you some thoughts on one of my favorite yet also most troublesome pieces of clothing, the jumpsuit.

So the WSJ, whose fashion and lifestyle prose of late feels more USA Today than economic stronghold, published a piece this past week on the long lasting appeal of the humble jumpsuit, a new wardrobe "staple" that has surprised fashion insiders like Rebecca Taylor as less of a trend, and more of a long lasting option for women who like an all in one approach to dress. I'm one of those girls and ever since my Miami days when I discovered the wonders of a good dress, I'm all about a more uniform, non thoughtful approach to dress. Yes, I'm lazy. Yes, I'm at ease in this silhouette that can be both forgiving and flattering. And yes, I'm also surprised at how long this grown up onesie has stuck around. Just the other day, I saw the sickest gold threaded voluminous jumpsuit at Electric Feathers (not on their site but so many other great jumpsuits there), and immediately began scheming how I could live a life where all I have to wear are about five different versions of this one piece and be done with it. (Chic commune, anyone?)

Jumpsuits are the answer for an easy, comfy chic vibe that will most likely have you looking cooler than anyone else in the room. But really, and to be transparent, jsuits suck for an obvious reason, and that reason is toilet time. For this reason, jumpsuits are the ultimate Iove/hate wardrobe item of all time. 

Whether you drink too much coffee or too much tequila, the jumpsuit is no friend to the weak or alcohol infused bladder. There's no delicate way to say this, but really, there's no way to feel more vulnerable and alone than to sit in a bathroom stall with not only your pants down, but your top down too. It's fraught with cruel intentions, embarrassment, and weird vibes. Because at any moment, somebody could bust open that door and there you are, in your bra, sitting on the toilet. That ain't right. 

So as much as I love my jumpsuits, I wear them, but with caution. If I am going out for the evening in the East Village (ha, as if that ever happens anymore), I'm not going to wear one. Nor am I wearing one on a day when I know more than one iced coffee is happening. Nor, and as much as I would like to for comfort's sake, wearing one on a plane. OMG. Plane bathroom. Top down. Oy. (Tip for those that want to experience jumpsuit joy but have the blessing of full frontage- if you are larger up top, go for one a piece that has more volume like the one in the picture above from Electric Feathers- it will be easier to get on and off vs. fighting with a too tight top half.)

So the moral of the story is this- if you are neurotic, jumpsuits can be wonderful because they suit most body types and make you look fabulous. But if you are neurotic, you're probably going to panic through the course of the day and/or night because the exposure required to wear this jam is far from ideal. Oh, well. Maybe wearing a jumpsuit is the ultimate staple for a more human approach to dress, because sometimes, you may be caught not only with your pants down, but your rack out as well. You just gotta be cool with that.  So you tell me, Wall Street Journal, if designers are "betting" that this look can be a wardrobe staple, can they provide a pep talk to those of us that find the look fabulous but the utility not as much?

Cause that's what's up this post trend cautious kind of Saturday in the buttoned up 718. Yours, in hesitation. XO

Good afternoon, Thursday. I've been quite the little shut in and if I could bottle this feeling of warm fuzzy laziness I would. For those moments when I'm feeling spun out. It's been a great week, and I've enjoyed going to the gym at noon instead of 6 am, and shopping in Trader Joe's when there's nobody in there.  I'm beginning to think this work thing is overrated.

But I'm not here to talk about my housewife envy. I'm here to chat a bit about fashion and an item I'm super coveting and loving for the Fall. Though it's been balmy out, I'm feeling like Fall is turning the corner and pulling up to the curb.  And as the need to get cozy and warm takes over, I want a fisherman sweater, because I'm an East Coast girl who loves a good chill in the air, and with a healthy dose of preppy cool to boot. Or perhaps it's the virtual "gone fishing" sign I've hung over my head as I enjoy a bit of time off that has me craving a salty look.

The iconic sweater is a hallmark of classic American chic- i wish I knew what happened to the outsized LL Bean version I had in high school, because although I used to wear it with penny loafers, I'd love to wear it with boyfriend jeans and ballet flats, or with skinny black tights and high heeled ankle boots.  I love how badass Steve McQueen looks in it, and how classic and gorgeous Grace Kelly works that cable knit goodness.

The Row's outsized version is of course, everything, but I also love how this blogger is wearing it with jeans and stripes, very cute.

LL Bean is doing a cropped, sleek version for chicks on their site, but I'm partial to a more oversized version to hide out in as the temps drop- so I'd go with one from the men's department, which I'd probably pair with some leather pants and pearls, just to muddle the message a tick.

In any event, it's easy to find this sweater anywhere- from vintage shops to LL Bean to Urban Outfitters. Don't mess with a classic basic, my friends. You can't go wrong here. Bonus points to those who rock this look with something formal, like a full skirt and sparkly necklace for evening. So good. I love this chick's version to bring some feminine fun to a tomboyish look.

Plus, it's a sexy throw over on chilly mornings with the LOYL when getting out of bed to make coffee, bedhead required of course. We all have our go to pieces as the seasons change, but this is one I never tire of. If only I could motivate to go get a new version, but for now, I'm hanging out enjoying a much needed bit of freedom. And that's what's up this well knit Thursday in the 718. Yours, in Fall fashion. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. Been a hot minute...

So I'm trying to retool this blog. I'm quite simply bored with the layout and want to make it better. I haven't had a second to think or breathe until this week and I'm very much enjoying some solitude after months of back to back projects. Look for a new look soon, and I'm scaling back on posts because posting is reminder of how much work I have to do to make this whole thing great. If you have any ideas, you know where to find me.

And another thing I've been thinking about is something sort of trend focused in terms of how we work. I've been asking myself this and wondering if the rest of you multi/slash types are asking yourselves the same thing: Is it better to be an expert at one thing vs. being a generalist and jack/jill of all trades? 

I'm asking this because recently I had the pleasure of dining at Sushi Nakazawa, an incredible sushi experience with near epic difficulty in securing reservations because of their incredible sushi chef lured from Tokyo right here to NYC. The whole meal is sushi, and nothing else. Full stop. 

I found myself feeling weirded out by that- no soup? Nothing warm to break up all of the raw fish? I have no choice in what I'm eating? (The chef picks. That's it).

And the pleasure of eating such a decadent meal was not only because of its excellent fish, but because true decadence is eating a meal that is composed of a single concept done exceedingly well. If raw fish is your specialty, simply serve fish. I loved the one note luxury of this meal (whose complexity I may be underselling- it was all fish but a huge variety of flavors and types), and it got me thinking about life in general (as a good meal tends to do). I realized that my distrust of such a meal spoke volumes about my tastes- I've gotten so used to having so many options I've forgotten how amazing it is to focus on something so perfect on its own. 

I started thinking that maybe this culture of generalism we have all found ourselves in may not be such a great thing. As a lifelong ad chick, the last ten years or so have seen a rise in upper echelon ad execs touting the praises of hiring people that are more generalists than experts- maybe you are a producer AND a writer, or maybe you are a art director AND producer. This never works in agency life, ps. I feel that many say they want the multitalented, but in essence, advertising distills down to a sweet spot- I have never been hired to do anything but production at an agency, and I'm cool with that. I'm good at it, I know tons of people, and that's what I'm known for in agency life. And I think that's true of most positions in adland- writers are writers, strategists are strategists, and account services peeps are account services peeps. Maybe in advertising being a generalist is desired, but it's rarely embraced. 

As a freelancer, I assess my value as someone who could often do more than one thing- I love to write, I love to produce, I love to work in the trend space and come up with what's next. But am I diluting my personal brand by being this master of none? I suppose if you're amazing at everything (not saying I am of course) and stay true to your point of view, then you are the rare breed. But for most of us, this whole generalist thing can cause some muddling. I'm not talking about people that spend a lifetime in marketing and then become bloggers. That's a logical extension. But I'm talking about a multi offering. I'm suffering from a hardcore case of expert envy, and here's why. 

I look at people like Sam Smith with that gorgeous voice or some sushi chef deity or an athlete that was born to dunk.  Those people are the lucky ones. They know they were born to do something- and in our era of "finding me", it's become apparent that all of us have the very difficult task of "finding our passion" as well. Some of us never will, and others of us are so blood thirsty for passion and purpose, we forget who we are completely. How lovely it must be to know you are here because of some supreme talent. Malcolm Gladweel famously noted that it takes 10,000 hours to be an expert at anything, and perhaps the tunnel/single vision lens needed to be an expert is something we should focus on more- I'm not sure it's true and that generalism is dead, but I love the idea of doing one thing, and doing it beautifully. It's a great gift to be able to focus on one thing, and really know who you are amidst a sea of slashes and mixed offerings.

With so many options, I feel brands are feeling this pinch as well- there's nothing wrong with doing one thing with exquisite focus. In fact, when you think of most big brands, you'll most likely think of the one thing they are known for. Take Nike. They make scads of things but really, they are known for sneakers. Or Levi's, who also makes tons of stuff, but they are famously known for jeans. Of course there are exceptions- I think of celebrities like Jessica Alba or Gwyneth Paltrow who were successful actresses that became lifestyle brands- but it was the movie star cred that got them in the door in the first place. And for actresses like Alba, whose acting jobs were a bit suspect to begin with, following her passion and starting an organic baby product company is a logical extension of her brand.

I'm not sure I'm making a point here, but lately I feel pulled in a million different directions, with the age old question of "what do you want to be when you grow up?" swirling about in my brain. With everyone trying to be everything to everybody, I'm starting to feel we are exhausting our talents.  I think there's something to trying many things, but I can't help but notice that being great at one thing has real equity. For many of us, that may not be an option, but perhaps we should stop trying to be so many things and go back to the power of one?  Anyway, that's my thought. Feel free to rebut. Is doing less so much more?

And that's what's up this single focus Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in expert opinions.   XO

Good morning, Thursday. I'm all up in the Hudson and I love it here so much. Going to DIA Beacon today and have enjoyed our stay at the lovely Roundhouse- more Hudson Valley recap tomorrow if at all humanly possible. Still enjoying my vacation lethargy oh so much.

But wanted to give you an itty bitty fashion tip this season- it's all about a good denim jacket to make that transition from Summer to Fall.

Denim jackets have always been a classic staple but feeling like they are having a real moment again- I've had a million different versions of them (and still covet my best friend's vintage Helmut Lang number from the 90s- mine were more often from the Gap and Earl Jean) but am now digging a more oversized silhouette vs. the more close to the body versions we've seen in recent years. I guess you'd call it more of a trucker jacket situation, and my heart almost stopped when I saw the R13 denim trucker cape online, and then it almost stopped again when I saw the price. I'm not a thousand dollar denim jacket kind of girl, and that's the truth. I'm not sure you should be either- it's like I don't even know you anymore...

But I was inspired by its coolness and decided I'd try to replicate in a less spendy version, and on a late weekend stroll through my 'hood in Brooklyn I stumbled into Free People and found the answer to my more attainable prayers- I love this oversized jacket that can function as more of a shirt to layer over sweaters, etc. I bought mine in the black/grey but the classic denim is super cute too. And it's a little more than a tenth of the cost of the R13 version, so wear with joy. And if you really feel like you can't spend over $100 on a denim jacket, go vintage and comb the piles of dudes denim for a more oversized vibe. I bet you'll find what you're after. And that's what's up this keep on truckin' on kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in outsized denim. XO

Good evening, Tuesday. I'm a lazy baked potato so sorry for the silent treatment. I just can't be asked to think or do as I'm too busy not thinking and just doing for a change. Having a lovely few days to myself which is divine. Back to it next week.

So it's impossible to keep up with all the fashion weeks- all I know is the American shows were fine but not mindblowing, (but that Row show really stands out) the London shows were ok, the Italian shows were made even more fabulous by the very retro cool Gucci show (Frida rules), but those Paris shows- HOLY MERDE. So many good looks- from Chanel to Chloe to Saint Laurent and everything in between- so in love. Karl Lagerfeld's staging was once again amazing- to recreate the Paris streets in the Grand Palais with a vive la revolution kind of tip was just too good. And Spring is all about a new/old rebellion- from hippie dippie vibes at so many runways to Marc Jacobs military looks to hedonistic glam/punk/ disco looks at Saint Laurent, I couldn't help but get swept up in some of my favorite times in fashion history- 60s and 70s looks were everywhere and with the world the way it is, it's not hard to see why. I hope the times are changin', and happy to see the runways full of clothes for a new enlightenment, even if it feels derivative to some (not entirely modern), it's a real reaction to a time of turmoil and angst. PS- one of my favorite Chanel shows in many years. Karl killed it.

But with so many choices and so much to look at, the head spins and the mind reels. And if you are no longer a babe in the woods, you're kind of left scratching your highlights wondering what in the world you're going to wear in 2015 (it's probably not going to be Saint Laurent- gold lame and a plunging neckline is best left to the young). I find myself fixated on Phoebe Philo, not just because of her spectacular looks at Celine above (super modern and beyond amazing- that black coat and one shoulder situation were beyond), but because of her indomitable simplicity when it comes to dressing herself. With so many choices of what and how to wear and spun out street style gone wild, I worship at her sneaker clad feet. 

At the end of her show this week, Phoebe came out in a simple boyfriend sweater, some cuffed wide leg trousers, and some sneakers. I found myself more smitten with that look than any others I saw on the runways these past few weeks, and upon further Google searches, I went way deep into a Phoebe rabbit hole. To me, she is the epitome of true style- for in a swirling sea of trends, she keeps it real and basic every time, and to me, that's the most revolutionary thing there is. And it's not about the Gap's new tagline of "Dress normal", it should really be rewritten as, albeit with better grammar, "Dress perfect", because that's what girlfriend does. Amidst so many party girl,  60s and 70s wild child looks, I feel like Phoebe perfectly captures where I am now- I've been through my wild child phase and now I just want to be cool and have a life and not be hungover by anything, fashion included. 

 And that's why I'm so charmed by Phoebe. Transcendent and simple and ageless and cool beyond cool. I couldn't ask for more. And when I find myself trying to pack for a trip or stressing over about what to wear to work or dinner or drinks, I'm simply going to ask myself what would Phoebe Philo do? Problem solved. Boom.

I would chat more but I'm currently searching online for the perfect pair of wide leg black pants- I've already got scads of sweaters to steal from David and enough sneakers to roll up anywhere in for the next few seasons. Cause that's what's up this perfect Tuesday in the Nuevo Yorko. Yours, in Phoebe fandom. XO

Good afternoon, Saturday. Yea, a post on a Saturday. Weird, right? I'm just trying to get my head right on this flight back to NYC.

So I've been on a real production bender this week with four locations and an awesome team of people I'd take with me into battle should the need arise. It's rare that you can look around at everyone you're working with and feel that all of them are cool enough and smart enough to share a bunker with, but these guys were just the best and that's that. I'm so glad Delta and W+K would have me on this one, because it's been a fun gig.

And one of the most fun things about production is the banter. If you are lucky enough to be with a funny group of people (which I insist upon as it makes a four hour traffic jam with a shitty a/c all the much more bearable), you will most likely engage in some funny conversations about some truly random, and most likely inappropriate shit. You can't help it when people are walking down the streets of Seattle with tails and animal heads or when some lunatic jumps on to a Venice rooftop in an incident that seems like a Chapelle Show sketch. Thankfully, we did not experience this firsthand, but we did see our share of weirdos, and we had words about most of them as I watched our photographer literally laying on the street to get the perfect image, as loony after loony tried to eat our Swedish fish, grab at something they could steal, or yell at us. Needless to say, our running collective monologue game was TIGHT.

One of my favs from the week came out of our Val Kilmer sighting at the Viceroy Palm Springs. Val pulled up in a decent looking Porsche (don't look now but I think that's Val Kilmer) but clearly did not want to be seen. Over Mexican food at some weird spot on the strip in Palm Springs (pesto guacamole- strange), we pretty much resurrected the Iceman's career. We speculated about how amazing it would be to have him in every shot we took- from the pool to the beach to the sidewalks of Venice to that hot shot in First Class.  We chatted about how it was entirely possible that Val came out to the desert to take his own life in some dramatic fashion, or how he was looking to dry out after having a Fear and Loathing in Los Angeles existence for the years it's been since he was a sexy beast (you know he was). We thought about how we could kidnap and lure a much skinnier Val to our pass van, so that he could answer the many questions we had for him. We plotted and schemed about going back to the hotel and finding Val Kilmer, which really should be a filmed production in itself.  We pretty much explored the deeply wrinkled, dark crevasses of everything Val and went on and on and on and on. Then some people jumped in the pool and I went to bed.

My point being this- life without adventure and meeting new people and banter is a life not really worth living. Just ask Val Kilmer. He's jonesing for a good production like the one I was just on right about now. I do hope he makes it back from Palm Springs ps- though admittedly it's less fun now that we have left, of this I'm certain. 

I just wanted to snapshot you in for a minute and break you off a little tale from the front lines of this thing called my life. I had the best time this week and completely lost track of everything happening during the Spring shows (though Dries holy merde amazing) and watched in disbelief the whole insanity with ISIS or whatever they are called (ISIL?) from my room at the airport Doubletree with a lack of sleep hangover yet an aching desire to just keep the party going.  And now that I'm on a plane I'm pretty stoked on seeing my two sweeties at home, one of the fur variety and one of the human variety. I'm taking next week off but I'm back at this cuckoo week after to go make merry in London with these pranksters. Looking forward to a bit of respite and then back to it. Do you think Val Kilmer would want to join, ps? He's not busy right now as far as I know...at least he'll be there in my mind.

Cause that's what's up this stream of conscience/exhausted/wound up kind of Saturday high up in the sky. Yours, in witty repartee and working with people who make it all worth it- you know who you are. XO

Good afternoon, Thursday. I'm tired as could be and have been on the road doing production all week- from Palm Springs to Malibu to freaky deaky Venice. It's all been done and I know it's the Jewish Holiday and I'm just wishin' and hopin' and prayin' that G-d is going to be cool with all of this travel and lack of apple and honey eating or temple going. But on to some other stuff.

On my way out west, I watched a killer documentary on Elaine Stritch, who died on my birthday of this very yea- I think she was about 90. For those of that don't know her because you are not in tune with dowager workaholic countesses who live in the Carlyle Hotel and don't wear pants, you may know here from her role as Jack Donaghy's mother in "30 Rock". 

In any event, this documentary made me laugh and cry at the same time- laughing because of Elaine's insanely foul mouth and salt water countenance and crying as I watched her forget her lines to her favorite Sondheim classics due to an epic bout with diabetes. 

Now Elaine was a broad, but a classy broad all the less. It's true she drank too much, swore too much, and did not have much use for pants- her style was kind of bananas in the good way- think crisp white mens shirts, legs a hat, enormous eyeglasses, and some tights with legs for years- oh and a Carlyle shopping bag as a purse. Yes. And yes again. 

All I could think about while I watched this film is I must be getting really old because I've suddenly fallen in love with old people. When I was young and kind of a moron, I was fearful of them. The fact that they were so close to death, the unpredictable vulnerability, the creaky body parts- the moth balls. All of it. Hated it. Ewww.