maybe I should have let them make me take Home Ec

Your high school guidance counselor is 

a person who has achieved his full potential.

For non-US residents, the high school guidance counselor is the person whose job is to suggest colleges or universities or courses of study, to set up class schedules, and to process transcripts and applications. They also told your parents that you were not living up to your full potential, seemed unmotivated, and risked not becoming a well-rounded and reliable citizen. In four years of high school and one year of junior high school, I never met anyone who was living up to his full potential. 

And so it came to pass that I arrived home one early spring afternoon with a list of the following year's courses, to be presented to a parent for signature. Naturally I had read it before I jumped into the car of the cute guy du jour, and so to everyone's surprise I demanded to be taken straight home. The strategy was obvious - I would wash off the eye makeup, bang out the chores and be found laboring over the trigonometry assignment when Mom got home from work. I thought about putting an opera record on, but refrained.

Mom wasn't fooled for a minute, although years of dealing with woe and wickedness and the puberty of others had blunted her x-Ray vision just a touch. So while she was relieved to know that I wasn't planning to stay out all night, skip school with a rare disease that required days of lab tests, address envelopes for a dubious political campaign, etc. etc., she wasn't thrilled to be reminded that it was schedule time again. Funny how time flies.

This was the nasty surprise on the schedule: instead of Advanced Placement Chemistry I had been assigned to Home Ec. Mom and I supposed this had happened either because of the GC's personal animosity or because he had noticed a vacancy and had filled it the easiest way possible - with an "elective."

Scene: the Guidance Office. I have been instructed not to "pipe up." Thus I listened very carefully, and the conversation is embedded in my brain. I'd actually like to get rid of it and make room for something else, but like cockroaches and corporations, some things have eternal life.

        Mom:            I'd like a few things explained before I sign off on this. This line, for starters.

        GC:               She is entering her Junior year. All Juniors are required to take an elective.

        Mom:            I don't understand, why is it elective if it's required?

        GC:               Because it's not optional. She has no choice, she has to choose an elective.

The spectacle continued until it lost its power to entertain. In the middle of a discussion about the benefits of Home Ec for someone who had learned to use a sewing machine in 6th grade (this shows you how desperate to entertain a Scout leader can be), and how could there be no openings remaining in AP Chemistry anyway, I produced a note from the chemistry teacher in which he requested that the 4th period class with double lab time be added to my schedule, since the class had 2 open slots.

It was customary to take that Chemistry course and Physics the same year, or if that couldn't be accommodated, very close together. This leads me to my current project, which is related to the time, space and matter continuum.

We leave for London, Paris, Lyon in about 2 weeks and I am determined to fit the necessary clothing into a carry-on, but equally determined not to spend more than half an hour or at most 45 minutes per day obsessing over packing, with occasional time extensions as needed to exhume some things that might fit from the last time I failed to get off the weight from the winter travels in time for the spring excursion. And no, well, minimal, shopping.

I wound up getting a new raincoat, because my very very good one is Extra Long. This is great for protecting the knees and legs in city winters, but even without the lining there's too much of it for the carry-on or the overhead.

I grabbed the J.Crew Bonded Zip Trench, a single-breasted number with a really neat collar, as an alternative. Length is adequate, and fit is fine, except the belt loops are located 1 inch too high.

This is where I start wondering whether there might have been some benefit in Home Ec after all. In keeping with my developing minimalist attitude, I sought a "free alteration." J.Crew's alteration/tailoring was not up to the task. A salesperson consulted with the tailor, and reported back that it was a very complicated and timeconsuming job requiring special equipment, and it would cost upwards of $75.

Removing the belt reveals the "complicated structure" of the belt holders - each consists of a little tab with a buttonhole sewn on the coat. The related buttons are on the belt.


Here are detailed schematic drawings showing (a) little tab with button, and (b) corresponding little tab with buttonhole. The "complicated" task is to snip thread holding tab to coat, pin tab back on to coat but one inch below previous location, and sew each little end onto coat.

I wonder if I had "elected" to take Home Ec, would I have stayed in touch with at least one of the girls who had really chosen the course? I would have been able to do a good deed and put some probably very needed work her way. ("needed" work because after 4 years of high school Home Ec back in the day and no prospects of further education, would she be employable in today's economy?)

Instead generations of my female ancestors are dropping their haloes and falling off clouds laughing at my efforts to locate a thimble without leaving the house. Cab fare to and from M & J Trimming (and if you come to New York, this place is a must and call me because I love to go there) is out of the question, because I am determined to prove that I can do the "alteration" for nothing.

Alternatively I can return the Bonded Zip Trench - sounds like equipment for an armed bootlegger - and try the Madewell Travel Trench, which looks like bootlegger wear but without the dangerous-sounding name.

This little number is shorter (good to pack, not so good to wear), less expensive (good) but web-only and final sale. Brilliantly, no measurements are published. If anyone out there has actually tried the thing on, please let me know your reactions.

Meanwhile, this link will bring you to a good collection of views of trench coats a-travelling. Look how cute the longer coats look.

I think something in my closet is whining.

this'n'that

So after a lot of pinning and unpinning and repinning, the pinkish gauze skirt and I have said our adieus. The two extremes - shorter:

and not so shorter:

and all kinds of fugly in-between - none of them worked on me. By the way, the pinning was made simpler by not measuring with a tape, but by using a 5x8 index card.

And Happy Belated Independence Day -- yes, it took me this long to figure out how to add this YouTube video of the new Fourth of July "song."

A celebration of the First Amendment at its - um - most interesting. Well, chickies, good taste is truly timeless:

So here we are, all descended from people who came to this country or this continent from somewhere else, whether because their habitat disappeared, or because they were fleeing famine, persecution, prosecution, terror...  We are all descended from people who held on to hope, and who knew what to pack.

Hmm, that caveman's luggage looks familiar.

Come to think of it, so do his corduroy pants and quilted vest and duck boots.

Or maybe our forebears didn't pack - maybe the plan was to make do with what they found when they got here.

One last bit of shopping news, I bought a tube of LIME-AND-MINT-FLAVORED TOOTHPASTE. It's made by Crest. SAVE YOUR MONEY, it does not taste like a Mojito. It tastes like the morning after MANY MANY Mojitos.

the haul and the haul back

I haven't yet discussed our planned visit to London and Paris, because your intrepid correspondent and spouse will be accompanied by two rather young family members, and most of our computer time these past few weeks has been consumed by searches for things that they, rather than we, will enjoy. Example: climbing around an old castle is more fun than learning about Napoleon's triumphs. Including for us, because first we'd have to explain who Napoleon was. So, plan for summer: (1) organize trip; (2) take trip; (3) recuperate from trip and then - oh, look, October.

Age-appropriate activities and visits having finally been organized, I realized that in the heat of the summer, eating on the fly and picnicking, the old reliable travel togs were completely unsuitable. I have done what any red-blooded American girl would do: I have shopped. And I have returned.

Keepers:

probably this long skirt, but shortened to what used to be called midi length, except since midi now seems to mean "probably not a mini," I'll use one of the names that were in use before midi: ballet length or tea length.

this tank, which goes nicely with most of what will no doubt make the final suitcase cut.

this skirt - probably a keeper if it ever arrives, thank you, UPS Mail Innovations. Another pet peeve, why pay UPS to haul merch to the post office and mail it? Anyway, I caught a nice promotion and the print appealed. Plus, my brown silk tank with black piping is a sure thing here. I must have been having visions when I grabbed it last year.

these linen pants, in navy and in beige.

this cardigan, to award off over-enthusiastic airconditioning, and oh, look, does anyone remember this tee?









I thought a white jacket would go with most things, and my white jean jacket is getting a little tired. I tried a couple of linen blazers, but they seemed too dressy. This single-breasted cotton jacket - on sale at ralphlauren.com, on more of a sale at bloomingdales.com, with pockets works for me, and isn't something I'll want to toss at the end of the trip.

these sneakers:

discussion not required, they even look comfortable.

these pants, worn with navy silk tee or navy tank. They weigh nothing, nothing, I tell you, so ordinarily I wouldn't consider them for wearing at home or Out East, but for hot, hot days in a large crowded city, they'll work. And I got a great price. Navy tank, navy silk tee. Chie Mihara sandals that tone in with the coral design on the pants, how did that happen? I've had those shoes for 4 years.

Going - or gone - back:
       these skirts:

the green/blue floral is a great print, I love the length and the fullness, but sadly the material is so stiff that instead of draping forgivingly over my rear view, it juts right out and stays out. I tried on the poplin pleated skirt in navy, and the pleats behaved badly.

this purse:I wanted the small, and stalked it, and honestly I never thought I'd say this, but it has no capacity whatsoever. This is a disappointment, because the large version is large enough to hold whatever Himself doesn't feel like carrying, and I prefer to avoid the issue ...

this dress from the Gap - it's rayon, it has no straps, it creates lumps and bumps where I know I don't have any - I can't believe it's the dress I ordered, but life is too short to argue, it's going back.

this sweater, which was described as a drapey cashmere boatneck sweater. I didn't realize that the "drapey" part was most of the sweater, in fact every area but the neckline. I would have used the word "floppy" or "suitable for the female relatives of SpongeBob" because it's square. People might have been better informed.

I thought this silk tee would be nice, but it too suffers from squareness. It went back. However, I should note that it looks very pink on the web, but is a deep rich red in real life. At least the one that briefly visited me was.

An enthusiastic (fanatic?) statistician has tabulated and analyzed retail price patterns, and has computed how many days of the month J.Crew has a reduction, promotion, additional % off, and so on. I'm considering inviting that statistician to my Inbox which daily offers me great buys and once-in-a-lifetime reductions on everything from arch supports to hats to electronics, media, and clothing at all price ranges. I wonder if this can mean that consumers, on a large scale, are rejecting merchandise with inflated prices. If so, I can only say ¡Viva la revolución!

If I feel ambitious I'll discuss the study in greater detail in a future post. Essentially the study concludes that even if you don't want to be a "sale shopper," there are fewer and fewer days in the month when that's possible.

signs of spring at Flintstone Manor

We're still recovering from overindulgence in New Orleans, but we're making a real effort to eat and drink prudently for the next few weeks, as we'll be off to Paris (and London) soon. It would be nice - and no doubt better for the circulation - if our city-wandering clothes fit. At least until after the first few restaurants...

Abstinence doesn't agree with us, and so the discussions of which exhibits we should book in advance, whether we want to organize any day trips out of the city, which monuments that were closed for repair have reopened, are not placid. These discussions have usually taken place over a glass of wine, with some nice cheese at the ready. It's thirsty work. This time, the discussions are accompanied by bubbly water (me) and diet coke (Himself), no nibbles, and random snarls. Sigh.

One of the things on my to-do list is to check out the new H & M concept store, which is called & Other Stories. New branches have opened in both London and Paris. The mission statement mentions their wish to design lasting wardrobe treasures within a wide price range. The "lasting treasures" bit sounds good. We'll see.

Another happy note is a Chagall exhibit at the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris.  I bought our tickets today!

Some early rising to call and make restaurant reservations,  baleful gazes at the long-range average rainfall statistics from weather.com,  disingenuous assurances that a small carry-on will suffice (he believes it every time),  mutterings about the fate of last year's packable raincoat -  yes, these are the signs of Spring at Flintstone Manor.

a-hunting we have gone

"We don't need anything for the trip, do we?"

"We?" I said, buying time to consider.

"Well, you, I guess, I don't need anything, but do you?"

Detecting an opportunity to Go And Spend Money We Don't Have, I formed a very careful answer.

"Mmm, I was thinking that I could use a jacket that would go with some of the pants I already have but could also look kinda cool with jeans."

"Oh, I thought you had a jacket."

A jacket? This could be dangerous.

"Not leather, it might be rainy."

"No, didn't you get a jacket a while ago?"

(this is the subtlest interro I've ever observed, the man is a master.)

I look blank.

"When you went shopping."

I pass stores every day, and go into mobile shopping coma at the sight of the words "free shipping." Where does the dear man think I live? Who does he think has been living in this apartment with him?

"At that place. With what's-her-name. Where you bought something."

I have no idea why, but a lightbulb took shape in the sky above my head and went click. Four or five years ago an acquaintance invited me to a private event at an elegant thrift shop. She was on the board. I had recently been paid. I did in fact buy something. I bought a "ladies who lunch" suit. I resented feeling like I had to buy, I had no place to wear the thing, nothing to wear it with, and as you can see, shaky grammatical tools with which to describe the predicament. But I still have the jacket, and indeed its evil teensy skirt. I tucked both pieces away. The skirt does bad magic on my butt. It was made for a lady who lives on cigarettes and ipecac. The jacket, on the other hand - I hunted out the jacket.

Here is the jacket. It fits like a happy dream.

ahh, a fine Bordeaux ages well

Here are the jacket's credentials.

a thoroughbred

these colors don't run

The jacket has agreed to come to France with me in a few weeks. 

It's unlikely that we'll run into its first owner. 

Isn't it? 

Did I mention it's hand-made?

Key West: if it's so not-dressy, why is my suitcase so heavy?

Key West is a collection of little contradictions, the temperature's generally balmy, but it can suddenly turn cold and damp; the sunshine is beautiful, but it's rained every morning; when it's too hot for anything but a tank outside, the place you enter to grab a sandwich is so air conditioned that you can get whiplash from shivering. Add to that the need for hats to keep the rays from making my carefully faked lowlights disappear, plus which we'll be heading to Miami for another couple of days, then on Naples to see old friends, and suddenly you're talking covered wagon. Without the weapons and crockery.



and of course, with shoes. Not photographed: green jelly flip-flops.
so the KW part of the expedition required:

knee-length shorts, 1 white, 2 chino
jeans, 1 dark(-ish, they've been washed a lot), 1 white
tanks, bright, 5 (hot enough for a tank, hot enough to want a fresh one every day, and besides they don't take up any room)
short-sleeve tees, 4 (look, I did not come here to do laundry)
long-sleeve tees, 2
pale gray cotton sleeveless vest thing with hood (A/C, remember?)
dark gray cotton jacket (I believe it was called "foxtrot")
jean jacket, 1 dark
beige poncho-raincape thing, also with hood
ugly but practical dark green water-resistant rain hat
striped linen sweater
chambray beach cover-up
pj's
belts, leather, 1, braided white rope, 1
cotton scarves, 2
Add to that, one restaurant dress (Naples), one shawl (Naples), and one pair of silk-linen tweed pants (beige, Miami) with blue/gray/beige linen sweater...
and hats, cosmetics, mini flashlight, bandaids, hair dryer, hair stuff, chargers and small extension cord for same, and my coffepot, and Westward Ho! I mean, Southward!

KW cherishes its rugged individuality, possibly more than it cherishes its rugged individuals. There's a Hemingway look-alike contest every summer, so after Christmas the seasonally unemployed Santas start south to get to work on their perma-tans.



There's also a Hemingway write-alike contest, of which the least said the better, but in short declarative sentences. There are well-known deliberately shabby bars, where you can buy the same watery drinks your parents bought. Fancy cocktail mixing is making inroads here, but slowly and so far just where there are tablecloths. Every winter, the local government considers proposals to alleviate congestion, "deal with" the homeless, protect the environment, and make tourism more profitable without risking overcrowding. We used to see proposed regulations aimed at stopping the proliferation of tacky tee-shirt shops downtown, but the economy has solved that problem.

Another Hemingway-related activity is the tour of the great man's house. It's a terrific house, and worth seeing, especially if you're about to renovate a bathroom in your own home. That man liked his creature comforts, and he sure knew plumbing. It doesn't look like the home of a writer/journalist. Another guy who dropped his starter wife for an heiress...

In the course of the house tour, you will also learn about the Hemingway cats, who all descend from Ernest's original 3.


These cats all have 6 toes, well, 24 really, 6 to a paw. They have distinctive colorations of fur and eyes, and are colorblind. I don't know how the Hemingway House tour leaders know that, but they were most positive and seemed annoyed that I asked.

As to food in Key West, we eat excellent spicy conch chowder and fresh Florida pink shrimp at the Half Shell,

top-quality Mexican food and great sangria at Chico's Cantina,

Cuban sandwiches at El Siboney (sangria here tastes like diluted Hawaiian punch and is not recommended),

and that's about it.

Oh, right, the obligatory breakfast at Blue Heaven, which has gotten very civilized and expensive of late, but is still good.



We also still like the restaurant now known as Pisces, very high standard of cooking, but we go there as a treat rather than a casual meal.

Every so often people urge us to try something different, the last time was to go to Seven Fish for the meatloaf. Don't bother, is the kindest thing I can say. Someone should start a charitable foundation for Drunks Born Without Tastebuds, motto "oh please don't sit here!"

A marching band concert tonight, and on to Miami tomorrow. I hear there'll be snow in New York.

on the road again: plans, packing and zero-sum shopping

Remember Mr. Creosote?

This is the immortal Fernand Point,
who started it all

so, we leave a week from today. Once again, Brussels (2 dinners), train, Paris (5 dinners, some lunches as well, including Spring, about time!), on the road, Mionnay (1 dinner), Lyon (2 dinners), on the road, Nice (2 dinners), Monte Carlo (1 dinner). Think that's it. Some more lunches while on the road, possibly. Um, naturally. October is game season, you never know what you'll find.

Hmm, just realized that Mr. Creosote and Fernand Point may have been separated at birth! How appropriate for trip planning!

Checking weather forecasts obsessively, and it seems that at this time of year, France is like New York, in that nowhere on this expedition south does it look like one day will have remotely the same climate as the next. I feel like I'm packing for a Girl Scout sleep-out - what if it's cold? rainy? pouring? warm? hot? humid? dry? Be prepared! - only with what I hope are cooler outfits. So far have decided to bring the famous Donna Karan cashmere wrap coat and a raincoat. Which raincoat is where indecision and neurosis have a party.  A short raincoat packs better, is better in cars; a long raincoat is heavier, but better on city streets, where there are splashes from thoughtless cars and busses, and nicer over a dress.

Restaurant dress: for hot weather, the blue silk print from last spring's trip plus that green lace vest. The vest works really well with the undertones in the blue print and that vee neck in real life needs a little cover. For cooler nights, have had an old dark red paisley wool challis dress updated; reset the shoulders - have decided I won't live long enough to welcome the return of pouffy shoulders and if I do I'll want new stuff anyway. Re-cut the neck - don't like turtlenecks in restos, now it's a high vee, good for necklaces. Or a little chain. Hemmed to mid-calf. I love it. Bought it a dark blue sparkly belt that picks up some of the blue bits in the paisley. I could hear it saying Merci!



On the road: jeans, tees, jacket as needed. City daywear: dark jeans or black slacks, silk shirts, blazer (ahem, a blazer is a jacket that has lapels, a collar, sleeves, and buttons and buttonholes). And my gorgeous Chie Mihara shoes, which - guess what? are comfortable!

the Chies I'm
thinking about

the Chies I have -
black, brown, taupe

Thinking of getting a second pair of Chie lace-ups (different colors, different pattern). I know they cost a bomb, but not having a pained expression on my face from aching feet will make me look years younger and more energetic, much more so than, say, a jacket whose partial lining gives rise to worry. My mom used to say that nothing makes your face look old like aching feet, and nothing makes you sound old like talking about how your feet hurt, so enough of the shoe/foot conversation.  Update: bought the Chies - they were marked down by 30% while I dithered - and am taking some other merch back to stores ! Zero-sum shopping?

A thought: at the end of October, Nice will be winding down for the winter but still warm, so I might finally get to wear my "flame" orange-red paisley skirt. And not a moment too soon! After thumping self on back in triumph for snagging this beauty before it sold out, there wasn't one occasion all summer for which it was suitable. OK, that skirt is coming along to earn its keep. Hah. Have made Some Progress. Now it is time for a rest. Oops, just realized I never finished the posts about the lovely meals we had in Seattle and San Francisco week before last. Bad blogger. Back to work.