Hiya, Tuesday. Since I am feeling rather "up for it" (down for it?) these days, I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about a place that’s on my radar- and that place is Nashville, baby.
I am fortunate to be married to a man who supports my hyperactive imagination. I am prone to crushes and whims and spontaneous obsessions and outbursts and getting flushed in the face and carried away. I’m aware this sounds like textbook bipolar, but it ain’t (trust me, I checked). He listens and watches as I get all kinds of excited about some random band, some new kind of ramen, or some pair of shoes I can’t imagine life without. This time, my lather is all about a place- Nashville to be exact. I can’t get enough. Oh and have I mentioned I’ve never been there? I haven’t. (Not exactly true. I was there as a 15 year old teen tour type, where I flirted with the white water rapids ride attendant at Opryland, who flirted back, and then proceeded to soak me with fake rapids, much to my hair and insecure teenaged angst’s chagrin.)
It all started a few months back when I received a photographer’s promo, a gatefold number whose back had “NASHVILLE” in big, marquee letters, gold ones, on black. Don’t ask me who the promo was from because I can’t tell ya. What I do know is that mailer made it to my inspiration board in my former office, where I would often stare at this lovely typeface spelling out a city I had yet to fully explore, but was intrigued by, nonetheless (oh the joys of a good typeface).
Type or not, something is telling me to go there. For a long weekend, in March. This sounds crazy I know, but I’m honoring this little intuitive message and planning a trip to Music City, US of g-ddamned A. Yes it’s true that Jack White and Karen Elson live there (she owns a vintage store called blank), and that it is home to all things country music (not my fave by a long shot but can get way, way down with some Merle or Waylon), but I don’t feel blinded by star filled eyes. After living in New York and Miami and spending lots of time in LA, I’ve seen enough stars in my greenish/hazels to last me a lifetime. Nope. This town has some other appeal, or maybe its lifestyle and coolness does.
Before I posted this, I asked a dear friend what she thought of Nashville, having spent much time there. She told me it is a town full of music and stories. I love both of those things more than chocolate so felt confident this little nudge could be relevant. She told me that every bar you go to, it’s entirely possible that someone like Willie Nelson used to close the place after a few sets at the Opry. That sounds awesome to me. I am drawn to places with stories, and lots of them.
And as a Northeasterner, whose former home region is tweedy, academic, and cynical, I have always found that Southern charm delicious and would love a bit of a twang in my every day cup of coffee. (Plus the South widely embraces eccentrics of all sorts, so may not be a bad place for the likes of my freaky ass.)
And I did some research and found that there’s some cool stuff going down there- with the aforementioned Jack White having Third Man Records there, his record store and studio and cool musician’s clubhouse. His wife Karen has a vintage spot called Venus and Mars, in which I can only guess are treasures, curated by a tomato tressed supermodel (ok maybe I do have a little bit of stars in ze eyes. Shoot me). And I read with intrigue about denim spot Imogene and Willie, who make their own denim, hold music events complete with tacos, and welcome customers with open arms to learn about their process. And those arms are embracing a new partnership with none other than J. Crew, who they are collaborating with on a line. They’ve been on my radar since they opened back in 2009.
I myself have a fantasy of going to this town full of stories, falling in love with it, and opening up a vintage store, called “Visions of Johanna”, for you non-Dylan fans, that’s one of his best songs in my humble opinion. ( Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet ?)
After coffee with my hubby and puppy, I would open up the shop and sell flowery dresses (some vintage and some made by me), lots of necklaces and floppy hats, and channel a young Janis Joplin circa Pearl kind of aesthetic. My husband, who I just asked what he would do there, said he would go shot for shot with the locals at his bar for people and their dogs, English pub style. Sounds good to me.
Tell me you have never played this game with your spouse- the game of where would you go, and what you would do there. And for you singles, this is not only a game for duos. You can easily play this with yourself, any time you like. It’s better than Facebook, I assure you.
That’s why it’s Nashville or bust. I’m going soon, and you bet I’ll be blogging the whole time as I try to figure out what the hell the place is trying to tell me, or if it’s going to tell me anything at all. I’m learning to embrace the things I think and fantasize about and go check them out. Too often we think of things, dismiss them as crazy, and put them to bed. But the literal writing is (well was) on my wall at work every day, beckoning and summoning and I am no longer ignoring such things. I recommend playing this little game once in a while and spelunking for those things that seem a bit crackers but could really be just what you’re looking for.
And that’s what’s up this funky fantasized Tuesday in the very non Nashvillian MIA. I’ve attached some pictures of Nashville for visual cues. Here’s to the journey, which maybe one day I’ll drink to, clad in feathers and a wool floppy hat, in my husband’s bar, with Khan by my side. What’s your Nashville? XO
LINK LOVIN’:
http://www.venusandmarsvintage.com/contents.html
http://www.thirdmanrecords.com/about.html
http://www.imogeneandwillie.com/
